#that just means it's crazy wild and will get the tender love and care it deserves without overwhelming the creators

[d8tl55c]

adding screenshot jic readers of the future missed the post

like me i dropped everything upon seeing this to go find it lol

still fucking insane. 5 MORE EPISODES. FIVE

for some reason i expected there to be less. like around 3?? but oh my god. they are going to reveal so much. especially considering the last episode will probably be WAY longer than others are. they are going to answer so much.

(theres NO way dark wont be mentioned more in this season im giddy and kicking my feet. also. possibility of king n purple cameo.)

[darlingdaisyfarm]

₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

part 3

author note: wow. oh. I can’t believe i finished this :')

this ridiculous, tender unhinged love letter to Ford (and to all of you) has been such a wild ride. tbh i started writing this fic as a half-joke, half-desperate need to get the scenario out of my head and now it’s grown into something so much more intimate than i ever imagined

to everyone who liked, reblogged, who wrote to me such wonderful sweet comments - i read every one and I love you more than Ford loves overthinking. seriously :) your support means everything, and I hope you'll like this final chapter. I’m so grateful for you all <3

ALSO sorry if there are a lot of kisses here….... ummm well I mean, you can't really blame me bc if Ford had let me, I would have just eaten him whole

nsfw, minors DNI

You don’t notice, but his hands are trembling when he reaches for the first aid kit he’d somehow already brought with him. Had he been planning this? Or maybe. . . he just couldn’t stay away, couldn’t bear the thought of you trying to deal with it on your own. 

Ford tries to maintain his usual level of calm composure, but the sight of your exposed thigh makes it so much harder than he anticipated. He feels so conflicted, his thoughts are somewhere between concern, desire and disgusting guilt. He’s a scientist, an explorer, a goddamned professional, not some pathetic old man fantasising about—

“This is going to sting,” Ford warns, trying to not look at your underwear along with your exposed body parts. He can’t be the one to make you uncomfortable now, not when you’re already in pain. “I’ll try to be quick, but it will hurt. I won’t push it, but. . . you need to stay still.”

He avoids meeting your wide, doe-like, scared, no, more like nervous eyes. Those eyes had undone him countless times before, always so trusting, so impossibly soft, curious, full of life. He dies every time when you look at him like that.

“Yes, okay,” you answer, though you’re not sure if it’s for him or for you. He pours the disinfectant into a cotton pad and just as he prepares to press it to your skin, you tense. “Ford, please. . . be gentle, okay?”

“I will, if it’s too much just tell me.” Ford still doesn’t dare meet your eyes, not when he knows his own will betray him. Instead, he focuses on the wound, on the crimson smear of blood that trickles down your skin. But it’s not that damn injury he wants to fix, it’s you, all of you. He wants to be needed by you, to be the one who makes you whole again. 

Ford prepares himself and trying his best, he gently presses the cotton pad to your skin what makes you gasp, oh, sweet mercy, that voice of yours. It’s all he can do to stop himself from leaning in and capturing your lips in tender kiss, getting between your legs and taking you right there. He keeps going, though, his big hands too careful, like you’re made of porcelain. He doesn’t want to hurt you, never, but he just wishes he could be inside you right now, show you how much he’s desperate for you.

“Ahh! Ford, h-hurts!” your fingers are gripping his wrist so tight, nails digging in, and fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking this. You are hurt, in pain, for god’s sake, but all he can see is you beneath him, making those same sounds for an entirely different reason as he makes love to you.

“Shh, I know, I know it does. I know, but you have to let me do this. If I don’t, the wound could get infected. Tetanus, sepsis are not things to take lightly.”

Goddamn, why he’s so close to places he shouldn’t even be thinking about. You’re laying there so beautiful, helpless, voice pleading with him to stop, it’s driving Ford crazy. His cock twitches in his pants and he hates himself for it, hates how his mind creates an image of you crying out his name like that, begging him to keep going instead of to stop. 

He feels the throb in his chest, but in his groin too.

“N-no more, fuck, ugh!” obviously it’s a plea for mercy, but to his traitorous brain, it sounds like—

Ford frowns, looking way too serious than usual as he tries to make his dirty thoughts go away, tries to focus on the wound and not the way your skin feels, but goddamn why are you so soft and warm and why he’s so damn close to you. And then his gaze betrays him, lowering down to the curve of your inner thigh, so close to where the hem of your panties teases him mercilessly.

“That’s enough, please!” you begin, biting down on your lip as the pain grows.

“Don’t move too much, it’ll hurt more,” Ford’s tone sounds rougher than he meant to. “I’m almost done.” 

She’s in pain, you disgusting old idiot. She’s fucking suffering and you’re—

“Please, stop!” 

Ford freezes, stiffening. That’s enough, you’d said, but it’s not, it’s fucking not. It’s never enough. Not your skin, not your voice, not the way you cling to him, not the way you beg, not the way you look at him.

The cotton pad is soaked now in your blood too, pressing too hard against your skin before Ford even realises it. You wince, gasping again and Ford can't help it anymore. His eyes drop to your panties, how they hug your body and his cock twitches in his pants.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to handle this. But all he can see is you, laid out before him like this, looking at him with those needy eyes, begging him to take you, to fuck you.

“Just sit sti—” before he finishes his sentence, he unintentionally presses the cotton harder into your wound, too lost in his own fantasies and the sharp burst of pain makes you hiss so you move involuntarily, your leg jerking straight into his crotch and—

You feel it.

Your foot accidentally brushes against something unmistakably hard. You didn’t mean to move that way, absolutely. But the second your limb drags against him, you feel it. The hardness beneath his pants. His body reacting to you. To this.

And neither of you move.

Ford is first to speak.

“I— I’m sorry,” he blurts. “It’s a natural physiological response. Adrenaline, heightened states of focus, they can trigger. . . well, unintended reactions. Nothing to do with— nothing to do with you.”

The sharp pain in your thigh momentarily forgotten. “Physiological response?” you repeat. “Ford, are you seriously trying to explain away your. . . uh, situation with biology?”

“It’s not what you think. It’s involuntary. Biological. A man’s body doesn’t always obey his mind. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He sounds so awkward, so flustered and you don’t know what to think. He’s not usually like this. . . well, not around you. Around you, he’s always so collected, always the smart, serious, intellectual Stanford Pines who wouldn’t bat an eye at anything that didn’t involve research.

You try to click pieces together, processing. He feels something for you. That’s the only explanation. He wouldn’t be this flustered, this desperate to excuse himself, if he didn’t.

And now you know. Ford’s just as human as the rest of us. And he wants you, too.

You move again, brushing your leg against him again and Ford wants to die because he makes the loudest surprised gasp in the room. “Doesn’t mean anything, huh?” you ask innocently. “so if I just move like this—” you press just a little firmer, feeling him growing harder. “it’s still just biology. Nothing to do with me at all?”

He’s silent.

“Ford, Is that. . . is that really how you feel?”

He sighs and darts his hand out to grip your leg to stop your teasing. “Don’t,” he warns, saying your name. His eyes meet yours for the first time all evening. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

His eyes stay locked on yours. You’re silent now too.

“Don’t— don’t look at me like that. You don’t understand. I. . . shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

But you do understand, more than he could ever realise.

“But why?” your foot slides all over his hard clothed length and Ford’s body responds with his needy cock twitching at your touch.

“This isn’t funny,” he bites out. “this isn’t a game. I’m not a young man, im not— I’m not what you need.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need, Ford.”

“But you’re too young—”

“Stop treating me like I’m some kid who doesn’t know what she wants. I’m an adult, Ford, an adult!”

“An adult?” he repeats, while your foot is still rubbing over his very obvious bulge. “an adult who can't even get dressed normally for the weather?”

You grin, leaning closer to his face. “uh-huh. And here you are, all worked up over me, right?” you press on his cock harder and Ford nearly finishes in his pants. 

He grabs your ankle, even though he doesn’t push you away.

“This. . . now this is inappropriate.”

You rolls your foot over his bulge what makes hips buck just slightly. You bite your lip, grinning at how badly he’s losing control.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” you lean closer and murmur into his mouth. “you’re so worried about what I can handle, but look at you. You’re the one who’s hard as rock right now, who can’t control himself.”

“Enough, I’m serious, stop.”

“Make me.”

That’s all it takes. It’s your smirk that gets him, your teasing voice, your dirty remarks, even as you’re sprawled out on the bed with that horrible wound on your thigh.

Ford is on you in a second. His mouth crashes against yours and you don’t even realise what’s happening yet. His kiss is messy and needy, like he’s trying to consume you whole. And you give yourself to him completely, your body melting into his. Every surprised gasp of yours is swallowed by him, his big hands gripping your face as he deepens the kiss. It’s so messy, the way Ford literally fucks your mouth with his tongue.

And you can’t help but tug at his clothes, dragging him closer until he’s on top of you. Ford’s weight presses into you and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at it as your body presses against his, your heart pounding so hard you swear he can hear it too. Ford is barely restraining himself from ripping off the rest of your clothes, that oversized T-shirt and panties, and fucking you right here, making all his fantasies come true, which he wrote down in his journal.

His mouth devours yours like he’s starved for you, his hands yanking you closer like he’s holding on for dear life. You let him claim you, let his kiss swallow every thought in your head until there’s nothing left but him, just him, him, him, him. You’re drunk on the way he feels. His hands are everywhere, pulling and tugging at you like he’s losing control. And oh god, you feel it.

You can’t get enough of it. You want more.

Ford is too lost so he lets six-fingered hand slip lower, brushing the side of your thigh and then it lands right where it shouldn’t.

Your fresh wound.

You gasp in pain, breaking the kiss.

“Damn,” Ford instantly pulls away, and his hand is next to your wound, concern and fear are visible on his face. “i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

“Fuck it,” you interrupt, pulling him closer. “worry about that later. I need you now. Please, Ford, just kiss me again.”

But looks like Ford is interested in your wound more than in kiss now.

He’s already inspecting the bandage, ignoring your begging, his brows furrowed with guilt. “i wasn’t thinking, im sorry, does it hurt? did i—”

Why men are so stupid, you think and grab his chin, forcing him to look at you, but he talks first.

“Let me—” he clears his throat, blinking before continuing. “no, let me bandage your leg. We need to, uh, stop the bleeding.”

“Ford,” you groan. “It’s fine. It’s not even that bad now.”

“Not that bad?” he looks you with a glare that’s somehow equal parts concern and anger. “that’s not how infections work, young lady. You could lose a limb if this festers.”

You groan in frustration, rolling your eyes, but he’s already kneeling in front of you. “This is really what you’re worried about right now?” you drawl, raising your brow.

“Yes, this is what I’m worried about.”

And here he is again, between your legs, his hands are still careful as they work, bandaging your inner thigh. Ford is trying so hard not to look at the very place he’s so devastatingly close to. He pulls the knot of the bandage just too tight what makes you let out the softest, unintentional moan.

“You— you cannot make noises like that right now. Stop making this harder than it already is.”

The corners of your lips curl and you lean back on your palms, unbothered. “Says the man who’s between my legs right now.”

“You got a point,” Ford lifts his brows as he clicks his tongue, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “clever girl.”

When he finally finishes tying off the bandage, he proudly looks at the work he done and pulls away, wait, pulls away? However, you don’t let him get far. Your hands drag him back down with a force that surprises him and maybe yourself.

The kiss you pull him into is anything but delicate. It’s urgent and hungry. Ford groans against you as if you’ve stolen the last bit of air he had left. Your fingers fist the fabric at his shoulders and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. 

“Been waiting for this,” you confess between gasps. “Ford, I need you.” 

His forehead presses against yours. “You think I don’t? I’ve needed you. God, you have no idea. You drive me insane.”  

“Need you,” you breathe, arching up into him. “Ford, please. . . need you so bad.” he swallows your words with another passionate kiss, this one deeper, slower. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling a whimper from you that goes straight to his cock.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses along the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck. His teeth graze against your skin making you shiver because you feel like on damn fire, so sensitive for him.

“Ford, ah,” you breathe, tilting your head to give him more room as his kisses grow bolder, hungrier. He’s so desperate he can’t seem to stop himself, mouthing at your collarbone, your throat, anywhere he can reach while he mutters how beautiful you are.

Your hand trembles as it finds his, wrapping around his wrist and guiding him down. “Ford, please, touch me there,” you whimper against his lips now, spreading your thighs apart to make space. “need you. . . need your fingers, your hand, please.”

Ford hesitates at first, as if he doesn't fully believe what he sees in front of him, the object of his fantasies, his clever girl, which he wrote about in his journal, right beneath him, begging for his touch, for his love. It seems like his genius brain cannot comprehend what is happening yet.

Finally his hand moves, two fingers, one extra, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties and the sound that leaves your mouth sounds like a desperate needy sob. His forehead drops against yours as his fingers press against the dampness pooling there.

“You’re so wet,” Ford drags his thumb slowly over your clit. “is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes, all for you,” you gasp, writhing under his touch, bucking your hips up into his hand. “only you, Ford— fuck, just keep touching me, please, need more— need you. . .”

“I know,” he mutters, kissing you hard enough to steal the words from your tongue. “i know, sweetheart, i know.”

Ford’s fingers tugs your panties to the side and you both groan when he finally touches you bare. You squirm, swaying your hips to grind against his hand and he curses again, moving his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping as if he can’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

“Y-you’re driving me insane,” he breathes. “been dreaming about this, you have no idea, been wanting you for so long.”  

“Good,” you manage a weak smile, whimpering when he circles your clit with his thumb. You curl your nails into his shoulders. “then fucking do something about it.”

Stanford groans at your words, his cock twitches, begging to be taken care of, but his pleasure doesn’t matter now. You’re so hungry for his touch and Ford needs to touch you badly, so he slips his fingers through your folds, caressing you while still rubbing your clit in torturous circles. “like this? does this, does this feel good?”  

“Yes, yes, oh my god! more, more, give me more,” you cry when he sinks one finger into you, curling it just right.

“God, I wanna—” but he cuts himself off when his eyes notices that damn bandage on your leg.

“What?” you question and press a light kiss to his cheek, your eyes searching his face. “what do you want?” 

“You,” he admits. “I want to be inside you, want to feel you around me, want to, b-but you’re hurt, and I— fuck, I can’t, I can’t risk it.” 

You whine, your head falling back as his fingers keep moving, sliding in and out of your pussy, brushing against that spot that makes you see stars. “don’t care,” your thighs clenching around his hand. “i don’t care, just need you, need your cock— fuck, please!”

“Please, don’t say that, don’t say that when I can’t give it to you.”  

“Ford, please, I need it! I’ll be fine, I swear—”  

“No, you’re hurt, this is all i can give you right now. . . but i swear, I swear i’ll make it up to you, honey, when you’re better, when you’re not hurt, i’ll—” his fingers thrust deeper into your wetness with his thumb circling your clit in time and you interrupt him with loud cry.

“Ford! please, just don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

Ford nods and watches you. Letting his fingers curl inside you, penetrating deeper into your pussy. His movements growing more confident as your body reacts to him, your beautiful moans spurring him on. His lips find yours again and you both get lost in the kiss, in the way your breaths mix, in the way your bodies press together like you’re trying to fuse into one.

Your moan breaks into a cry as you arch your back, eyes closed tight when Ford’s fingers pumping into you faster, your spongy walls tightening around his digits. Oh fucking heaven, that extra finger feels too good. “Ford, please! oh, god— fuck, you’re gonna make me—”  

“That’s it,” Ford’s lips trail up to your ear, kissing and biting it as he presses his thumb on your sensitive bundle. “let me take care of you, sweetheart, cum for me.”  

His tone and praise is what sends you on edge as you clench around his fingers, moaning his name and cumming while his fingers, slower, but still thrusting into you. You feel so weak and tired, but your Ford is right there to catch you, whispering soft praises into your hair as you shake in his arms.

Ford’s fingers still buried deep inside you as he watches you come down from your high. And it’s so obvious that he putted your needs before his own because his cock, hard as a rock now, strains against the fabric of his pants, creating the most painful bulge you ever seen. He shifts awkwardly, hoping maybe you won’t notice but you do. Oh, you do.

“Ford,” your voice sounds honeyed as you regain your strength. Your gaze drops pointedly to the tent in his pants. “you’re. . . so hard.”

His face flushes and he tries to pull away, to create some distance between you, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t,” you whisper softly. “don’t hide from me. you’ve been so good to me, let me. . . let me do something for you.”

“No,” he says quickly. “you’re hurt. I can’t, you need to rest.”

“Just look at you, you’re aching. You don’t have to do anything to me, just let me help.”

“Oh my god,” he says your name as if ready to scold you. “you’re impossible, you know,” but his shaky hands move to his belt anyway, unsure, like he’s warring with himself even as he undoes it.

“Yeah?” you lean back. “you’re about to jerk off in front of me, Ford, what does that make you?”

Ford cant find any smart or logical response to that because you’re absolutely right, he’s the mess here, the impossible one, the desperate old man. He takes a breath, finally pulling his cock free and fuck, he’s so hard as if he’s going to explode, the head flushed and leaking.

Ford’s cock is already in his hand, the first strokes making him whimper under his breath. His other hand rests on your thigh, fingers nervously flex like he’s desperate to touch more of you, to hold you, to worship you properly like his clever girl deserves, but he’s so lost in this intimate moment, in you, that he can barely think straight.

You’re watching him, trying to control yourself because if you won’t, you might just jump on him and you can't vouch for yourself. 

You’re sprawled out in front of him like a dream come to life: t-shirt rucked up, legs spread, panties pushed to the side, leaving your pretty glistening pussy on full display for his starved gaze. Fuck, you look so hot like that, from everything he’s already done to you. He’s trying not to stare and you think he’s so silly when it’s specially show made only for him, so you shift your hips just enough to catch his attention, drawing his eyes like a magnet.

“Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you want me.” your eyes locked on him, drinking in the sight of his hand moving over his length.

Ford’s chest heaves, his hand grips his cock, which is twitching and flushed an angry red at the tip. But looks like poor old man can’t even jerk himself off properly, so you reach your hand out to brush against his wrist.

“Here,” you purr, guiding his hand with your smaller one, wrapping your fingers around his, forcing him to stroke himself teasingly. At that, Ford’s hips jerk up into your shared grip, and you hum approvingly, watching as his lips part in a groan. “yes, like this, honey. Let me help you.” 

“S-sweetheart. . . you don’t— ah— you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” you lean back against the bed, shifting your hips, making sure he has the perfect view of your soaked, glistening slit. “Don’t hold back, i want you to feel good.”

Ford lets himself get a bit more vocal as he groans, his hips buck into your joined hands and his cock twitches against your palm. He’s so fucking hard, leaking against your skin, and the sounds he makes as he strokes himself are too good to be true, yet here he is, in front of you, jerking himself off, moaning your name. 

“You. . . o-oh god, sweetheart, you’re incredible,” he whines as you guide his hand again, showing him exactly how to squeeze, how to work himself the way you know he needs it. Meanwhile his other hand braces against the mattress near your head, his knuckles white as he struggles to keep himself together.  

“You’re so big, Ford,” your eyes glued to his dick, watching every move with hungry fascination. “you’re so handsome, so beautiful. I could look at you all night.”

He groans at your praise, more pathetic this time, his forehead dropping forward as he stares at where your bodies almost meet. “Christ, you’re gonna ruin me, love.” that’s when his strokes falter for and you take over completely, your warm hand wrapping around his length and pumping him up and down.

“Keep going,” you urge, feeling yourself getting wetter too. “i can’t stop thinking about how good you’d feel inside me. id take all of you, id make you feel so good, Ford. I need you, all of you.” soft whisper into his lips while all Ford can do is fuck your hand pathetically, your thumb sweeping over his tip, smearing the slick there.

Ford digs his fingers into your thigh, trembling. “Don’t— oh god, don’t say that,” he gasps. His eyes are locked on your opening, on the way your arousal glistens, your folds so wet and swollen and inviting.

“Don’t you want to touch me? Don’t you want to feel how wet i am for you?”

“God, I do,” he breathes as his hand joins again, moving together with yours, faster, jerking himself off faster. “I want you so much it hurts. I’d do anything. . . anything for you.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, reaching out to thread your fingers into his hair when you kiss the corners of his parted trembling lips.

“I can’t— oh god, sweetheart, I can’t hold on much longer.” thick ropes of his cum spills across your thighs and even stomach, marking your skin as he makes a mess of himself. His hot seed drips down over your hand where you keep stroking and caressing him, milking every last drop forcing whines and mewls from him.

He collapses forward after and buries his face against your shoulder. 

“I need you so badly,” he murmurs into your skin. “you don’t know how much I want you. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You hum softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair as you press a tender kiss on his forehead.

***

It’s morning and sweet scent of batter and syrup fills the air. The noise and conversations are coming from the kitchen and there’s only one explanation for the chaos: Stanley is cooking “stancakes.”  

You’re by his side, propped against the counter, balancing on your good leg, watching Stan cook. Spatula in one hand, the other parked on his hip and he radiates confidence, as if he is ready to host his own cooking show.

“Now listen up, kid,” he says in a voice full of pride. “these are world-famous stancakes. they’ve been called ‘edible’ by at least two people, well, three, if you don’t count the pig.”  

“Oh.”  

“Oh” he repeats, incredulous, spinning to face you with mock offense. “don’t tell me you’ve never had stancakes before?!”  

You grin, shaking your head. “not once. I think Ford’s been keeping them all to himself.”  

Stan looks like you’ve just offended him.  

“That’s practically a felony in this house! what, Ford never mentioned ‘em? selfish bastard.”  

You laugh softly.

“but i gotta ask,” Stan continues. “any allergies to elbow grease? or, uh, whatever was at the bottom of the flour jar. pretty sure it was flour. maybe. . .” he winks and you roll your eyes, however the conversation continues good and friendly between you. 

Your hand rests on the counter for balance and you look down, at the faint tug of the bandage around your leg, which works as reminder of the night before. Memories of Ford’s hands, his mouth, the way he moaned your name, how he touched you, heat your cheeks until you force yourself to focus on Stan.  

His spatula waves in your direction again. “so, what’s the story with yer leg? take a tumble down the stairs, or was it somethin’ spooky out there in the woods?”  

You give him a wide smile. “let’s just say it’s a story. remind me to tell you later.”

Stan raises a brow curiously, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he turns back to his stancakes with a grunt. “hmph, fair enough. just glad you didn’t end up worse. Y’know, if ya ever need lessons on landing on yer feet—”  

Before he can finish, his brother steps into the room and you immediately turn your gaze to him. Honestly, he looks like he’s spent the entire night replaying everything. 

“Ah, there you are,” Ford murmurs when his gaze finds you, then he clears his throat and nods to his twin. “good morning, Stanley.”  

Stan doesn’t miss a beat, gesturing with his spatula. “yeah, mornin’, sixer. Yer just in time for the best damn pancakes this side of the multiverse.”  

At that, Ford’s lips curve into a polite smile as he glances at his brother. “that’s good to hear.” then his focus changes, locking entirely on you. His intonation changes into something warmer as he speaks your name. “would you mind if i borrowed you for a moment? just for a quick talk.”  

You nod a little too eagerly. “sure, of course.”  

Stanley lets out a dramatic sigh, waving his spatula at Ford. “don’t keep her too long, poindexter. She’s gotta try these pancakes before they go cold!” 

Ford leads you to his study and you follow, heart thundering in your chest. You’re grinning like an idiot, barely containing your excitement. He’s finally going to say something, but you’re so fucking ready to hear, to discuss, to scream the loudest “YES” when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend.

When the door clicks shut behind you, he turns and you finally see his face. He’s always so serious, just like right now. But what did you wait? It’s Ford Pines, it’s his normal state. However, you’re so excited you sure he can see the way you’re literally glowing.

You really try to act casual, but inside, you’re absolutely going insane, nervous, happy, excited at the same time. Last night still feels like a fever dream, you can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body against yours, the way his fingers slid so perfectly into you. . . 

And now he’s here, just the two of you, and you’re hoping he’ll finally acknowledge the thing that happened between you.

But then he opens his mouth.

“So, about the anomaly. . .” he begins and the words hit you like a slap.  

No, no. No no no. Are you hearing this right?That’s what he’s leading with?! After everything that happened last night, he’s just. . . no, he’s talking about the damn anomaly like he didn’t just leave you trembling with the memory of his fingers inside you. 

Your smile falters fucking immediately, your shoulders stiffening as he goes on, completely oblivious to the storm of disappointment brewing inside you.  

“I’ve been reviewing the notes I took last week. If my calculations are correct, the creature’s molecular structure—”

What the actual fuck.

Your jaw clenches. You stare at him, thinking it’s some kind of joke. He’s talking about science. Fucking science. After everything that happened, this is what he wants to talk about? He’s here, rambling about molecules and rain like none of it ever happened.  

You can’t stand it. The frustration takes over you.

“Ford,” you hiss as you shove him back against the wall.

His eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t let him speak. You press your palms flat against his chest, pinning him there, your voice shaking with anger. All you can think about is how he’s standing there like some fucking genius, talking about molecules and data when last night, you’d literally devoured each other.  

“Are you kidding me? This is what you wanted to talk about? You’re seriously standing here, talking about anomalies and notes like last night didn’t fucking happen?”

For a second, he just looks at you, his face calm and that makes you practically vibrate with rage, the intensity of your emotions making your head spin.  

And then. . . he smirks.  

The bastard smirks.

“I wasn’t aware we had plans to debrief, sweetheart,” your fingers tighten against his chest and he raises a brow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Though I must admit, you’re surprisingly strong for someone with an injured leg. Should I be worried?”

Your face burns as you glare up at him. “Ford, don’t you dare—”

“Well?” his gaze piercing through you. “What is it you want me to say, sweetheart?”

His fucking teasing is driving you crazy.  

“Are you seriously just gonna pretend like it didn’t happen? That you didn’t— god, Ford—"

“Pretend? Oh, but don’t get ahead of yourself.

I think you’ve got a lot more to say about what happened than you’re letting on, huh?”

Your cheeks burn hotter than they ever have before. You didn’t expect that. You really didn’t.

“Are you seriously gonna tease me about last night? You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, but you’re so worked up now that you don’t even care. You push yourself closer, getting right up in his space, your chest touching his, and now you’re just fuming.

“I’m the one who teases you? Interesting. . .” he leans to your face, brushing his lips against your ear. “What else did I do to you that made you so worked up last night? I didn’t think I was that good with my hands.”

“You bastard.” you hiss as you pin him against the wall harder.

He tilts his head at your words. “Careful, love, I wouldn’t want you to strain that leg of yours again. Especially not after I spent so much time taking care of you last night.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The nerve of this man! You want to slap him, to push him away, but instead, you pull him closer

“You better watch yourself, Ford.” You give him a dangerous smile. “You think you can just pay with me like this? You’re not as clever as you think.”

Ford’s smirk widens. “Oh? You think you’ve got the upper hand? I’ve got you pinned right where I want you, sweetheart.”

And then his hand trails down your arm to your waist. 

“And if you’re still mad, I can think of a few ways to work out that frustration.”

Your body goes cold and hot all at once, and it takes everything in you not to melt into him. 

Ford is still against the wall where you pushed him, calm as ever, obviously enjoying every second of this, he thinks he’s the one in control.  

Your pulse hammers in your ears, your hands trembling against the chest of his sweater. He’s so warm, and god, you hate that even now, even while you’re mad at him, you can’t stop remembering the way he looked last night. The way he sounded when he let himself fall apart under your touch. 

“You’re insufferable. Worse than Stan.”

“Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one pinning me to a wall. Quite forcefully, might I add. It’s a little ironic, don’t you think? Considering how you were. . . what’s the term? Begging for me last night?”

Your jaw drops.  

“Begging? You think I was begging for you?”

Ford looks entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, I seem to recall a certain. . . eagerness on your part. Particularly when—”

“You don’t get to talk about my eagerness.” you cut him off, your cheeks flaming. “Not when you were the one moaning my name like your life depended on it.”

That shuts him up.

His smirk falters slightly, and you see the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck. Oh. Oh. Fucking finally. You’ve got him now.  

“That’s right. Stanford Pines, world-renowned genius, reduced to a trembling mess because I—” and to kill him for sure, you lean in to whisper into his lips. “jerked you off.”

Ford goes completely still.  

There’s nothing but silence. His genius mind working, his lips parting slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out. His face is a mess of conflicting emotions, embarrassment, frustration and something you can’t quite place but looks suspiciously like agreement.

“Got nothing to say now, huh?” you tease, grinning like an absolute maniac. “What happened to all that confidence, Professor?”

“Well played.”

***

Life at the mystery shack doesn’t feel much different, not outwardly. Stan still grumbles about the bills, the tourists still gawk at the exhibits, and Ford. . . Ford is still Ford, except now he’s yours.  

Yours.  

The nights are quieter between you both, more intimate, full of moans and groans, petting and foreplay. Like last night, when his clever hands had slipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants, his soft and needy voice told you he wanted to make you feel good.  

God, he did. You’d come on his fingers so good, trembling as he whispered your name and called you his good girl, while kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears of pleasure away. And he’d let you touch him too while your hand worked up and down on his pulsing cock and then he spilled against your skin, while you silenced him with a kiss.

No, it actually feels good, really. It’s better than nothing, than not touching him at all, but. . . you crave, you need something else. Something that is not just his fingers, mouth, or hands.

Ford is so careful, so cautious about your stupid leg, his gentle excuses about your injury making you want to scream into a pillow. Like, yeah, it still hurts sometimes, but you can walk, run, pin him against a wall, fuck him six ways to sunday if he’d just let you.  

Ford has his own fears, even if he won’t admit them outright.

But you’re not afraid. 

The woods, your anomaly huntings, are different now too. More dangerous, you’d say. 

You’re pressed against a tree as Ford’s mouth claims yours. His hands are everywhere, gripping your waist, sliding up under your clothes, pulling you closer, closer, like he can’t get enough.  

“Ford, aah, please,” you whimper, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His knee nudges between your thighs, pressing against you and you swear you’re about to melt into a puddle right there in the dirt.  

“Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want the whole forest knowing how desperate you are for me.”  

But it’s him. . . it’s fucking him who’s desperate, dropping to his knees to pull your pants down just enough, fingers slipping into your panties to find you already soaking.  

“So wet already, holy multiverse,” and then his fingers are inside your pussy as he presses kisses to your thighs and stomach.

But you need to touch him too. Your hands are on him again, tugging at his belt, fumbling with the button of his pants. His cock is hard when you pull him free and you stroke him until he’s shaking, gasping against your neck.  

“My love, i’m gonna—” his hips jerks into your hand as he cums, splashing his hot and thick seed all over your fingers. But he doesn’t stop,  his own six fingered hand working you until you finish with a strangled cry, pussy clenching around him as you nearly fall, when he catches you, whispering how beautiful you are.

You both collapse against each other, sticky and hot, despite coldness of autumn, grinning like idiots. And then Ford leans in to kiss you again, like he’s already planning the next round.  

At dinner, it’s you who starts it.  

Your leg brushes his teasingly under the table that has him choking on his water. Stanley doesn’t notice, too busy ranting about some tourist who tried to haggle over a snow globe, but Ford shoots you a warning look.

You just smile sweetly while also agreeing with Stan about his tourist speech as you press your foot higher until you’re brushing against the hard line of his length beneath the table.  

The lab is worse.

He’s sitting at his desk, scribbling in his journal with you perched on his lap, your arms around his shoulders, your hips rocking against his as you kiss the side of his neck.  

“You’re distracting me,” says fucking Ford with his hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his already hard cock strains against his pants.  

“Good,” you kiss his cheek, grinding down harder, feeling him twitching beneath you.

But every time you try to push it further, every time you reach for him, ask for more, he stops you.  

“Your leg,” but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.  

“But i’m fine—”  

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “i’m not risking it, not yet.”  

***

The November crisp air bites at your skin. The faint smoky warmth of the fire crackling in the yard. Well. . . It was Stanley's idea to do this, he said something about rekindling childhood memories, family bonding and roasting marshmallows like it was summer camp, but he's not here. Something about a "quick run to the diner for pie" turned into him being away for whole evening, leaving you and Ford alone under a shining starry sky.

“You know, for a guy with six fingers, you’re surprisingly bad at this,” you tease, leaning back on your hands as you watch Stanford squint at the marshmallow impaled on his skewer. It's already starting to charred, the edges curling into blackened flakes as the fire devours it. “do they not teach you how to roast marshmallows in the multiverse, professor?”

Ford chuckles softly at your words. “Oh, excuse me, but i’ll have you know i’ve mastered much more complex techniques than this primitive. . .” the marshmallow slides clean off the stick and lands with a soft plop into the embers. Ford stares at it, annoyed. “cooking method.”

You can’t help how cute he looks so you laugh. “You’re hopeless,” you brush your shoulder against his, smiling. “here, let me show you.” Ford nods, handing you the stick. “first rule,” you skewer a new marshmallow. “don’t hold it so close to the flame. you want it golden, not a cremation. You’ve gotta keep it turning. Patiently, like this.” you rotate the stick slowly and Ford actually watches, his gaze is not on the fire, but on you. 

“i see,” he says thoughtfully. “golden, not charred.”

“Exactly,” you let marshmallow toast evenly. “you just have to—” you glance up to check on him and Ford’s still watching you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you gulp awkwardly. “. . . focus,” you finish a little quieter. “why you’re looking at me like that?” you smile.

Ford laughs. “maybe in some universe, you do dress appropriately for the weather?” 

You blink at him, thrown off for a second, before realising. Oh. . . oh, right. Your teeth chatter slightly, fingers cold and you’re shaking slightly, it’s so obvious. “i guess no?”

Ford doesn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he’s already shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders before you can protest, but it’s not like you wanted to anyways. His trench coat is heavy and smells just like him and your smile couldn't get any wider.

“Thanks, again. . . heh,” you try to sound nonchalant, but the coat is still warm from him and you clutch it around you tighter.

“So, you were saying?” Stanford prompts, tilting his head toward the marshmallow in your hand.

You clear your throat. “Right, uh, where was i? oh, yeah. so, you’ll know it’s ready when it’s this perfect golden brown all over, not a single—”  

“Give me a kiss,” Ford says suddenly, interrupting you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You’re not sure who leans in first. You, probably, but he meets you halfway. Ford’s lips are warm, so soft against yours. Your heart stutters in your chest as blood rushes in your ears, one of his hands comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing feather-light against your cheek. Your hands find his chest, fingertips pressing into his sweater as you you sigh into him.

The kiss deepens, not hurried, but like you’ve both waited far too long for this moment. Ford leans into your touch like he’s been craving it just as much as you. 

When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours and none of you speak, both quiet and only fire is crackling softly beside you.  

“I think i might be terrible at marshmallows.” Ford smiles shyly.

You blink at him, you lips still tingling from the kiss, your head feeling too light to even process his words at first. Oh god the whole moment so tender, so beautiful, so intimate it almost makes you want to cry. 

“Ford,” and he hums softly in response.

“Hmm?”

“Give me another.”

Ford doesn’t need to be told twice.  

This time, it’s you who closes the distance, but his lips crash into yours like he’s been waiting, holding himself back and now he simply can’t. His hand slides to the back of your neck as the kiss deepens, hotter, hungrier. You sigh into his mouth, your knees going weak beneath you, but Ford steadies you, holds you.

His coat slips off one of your shoulders as your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s no space left, and even then, it doesn’t feel close enough.  

“Ford—” you manage to groan against his lips and he pulls back just slightly.

“What is it?” the way he’s looking at you, fuck, like he’s already undressing you in his mind, makes you feel dizzy.  

You pause, staring at him, at the mess of his hair, the faint flush dusting his cheeks, the way his lips are already red from kissing you. This man. This ridiculous, brilliant, beautiful man.  

“My leg,” you feel nervous out of sudden, afraid he might reject you again. “it’s— it’s healed now, you know. . . i can— i can handle more.”  

Ford freezes, thinking. And then. . . Oh.

He kisses you again, but this time it’s different, this time, there’s no holding back, no careful hesitation.

"Inside," your voice is trembling with anticipation. "please, Ford, let’s go inside."  

And god help you both, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say no. 

***

Ford’s whole body is pressing you into the mattress as though he’s trying to meld you both into one. His hands grip the sheets beside your head and he’s so warm against you. He kisses you messily and desperately, too eager.

“Ford, please,” you whimper, lifting your hips and grinding up against his hard, pulsing length.

“Yes, Ive got you, I’ve got you,” his own voice trembling as one hand dives down, gripping your hip, trying to keep you still but failing miserably because he can’t stop himself from rutting into you. “im right here, my love, i’m gonna take care of you.” the bed creaks beneath the weight of both of you, but neither of you can hear it over the needy moans you two share.

You can’t stop the high pitched whine that escapes you as his knee slots between your thighs, pressing against you just right and you swear you’re losing your fucking mind. “Nngh, Ford, Ford, please,” your voice so fucking needy it feels embarrassing. 

Ford stops, just for a second, pulling back to take a good look at you. His eyes are blown wide, pupils black as they devour every little expression you make. “tell me, tell me what you need.”  

You nearly cry. “touch me,” you plead.

“Oh sweetheart, my good girl,” his trembling fingers brush the hem of your clothes, slipping underneath to glide against your skin, being so careful like you’re too delicate, too fragile for him, he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not gentle. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, dragging his lips down your jaw, going lower to the sensitive skin of your neck. “i love you so much.” and before you can even think to respond, his mouth is on yours again, swallowing your moans because he’s desperate to consume every single piece of you. 

Oh, sweet fucking hell, you think when Ford lowers himself between your thighs looking like a man on his knees at an altar and you’re the goddess he’s about to worship. He spreads your legs wide, his six-fingered hands curling into the plush of your thighs and he just stares for a moment like he’s seeing heaven itself. His lips part, and his tongue darts out to wet them, the hunger in his gaze as if he can’t believe this is real.  

"My love," he groans. "so pretty, you’re so pretty. . . this is all mine, isn’t it? tell me, sweetheart, say it, say it’s all for me."  

“It’s yours, Ford,” you melt under his gaze, feeling so exposed and he hums in approval. 

“Good girl,” and then he dips his head down, brushing his lips against your inner thigh, kissing your healed wound. 

You grow impatient with every second, and fucking finally, he’s right here, his face hovering over your throbbing pussy which needs his attention so bad, and he takes a deep breath. 

Ford presses a kiss just above where you’re all wet and your hips jolt, seeking more.

“F-Ford! fuuck. . . fuck fuck fuck!” 

“Shh, just like that, i’ll take care of you,” he presses one hand firmly on your pelvis to keep you still. “just relax, darling, let me have you.”

You’re too far gone to even respond coherently, only letting out pathetic whimper as he drags his lips lower and lower until his warm mouth hovers right over your soaked folds.

His tongue presses flat against your pussy, slowly and oh fuck, you taste so damn sweet, Ford growls and that vibrates straight through you. “oh, god," he pants, pulling back before diving in again, "you taste. . . you taste so good, so sweet, like you were made for me." Ford’s voice muffled against you as his tongue flattens, dragging through your slick, tasting you. 

His hands grip your thighs tighter to hold your squirming body in place as he tilts his head to get a better angle. His lips seal around your puffy clit, sucking gently at first, then harder when your hips jerk up into his face. He holds you open because he’s not letting you go anywhere, his tongue flicks over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re sobbing his name.  

“Ford. . . oh god! Ford, too much—!” 

You’re trembling and panting as his tongue circles your little clit in soft lazy strokes that have your back arching off the mattress. You fist your fingers into the sheets as his lips seal around your sensitive clit, sucking gently before releasing you with a soft, wet pop.

“Taste so good,” Ford says more than all to himself. He licks into you now, dragging his wet tongue through your soft folds, lapping up everything you’re giving him like a man possessed. “g-give me more, darling, please. . . i need more of you.”

“Ford, Ford! Ford, i—” you buck your hips against his face as the wet sounds of his mouth on you fill the room.

“Mmhm, that’s it, sweetheart,” his voice muffled against your cunt as his lips brushes your clit, letting his fingers slide lower to tease your dripping entrance. “just let me make you feel good.”

Ford pulls back just enough to gasp for air, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and you swear he looks drunk, eyes glassy and pupils blown wide. “you taste so good,” he groans, diving back in immediately, never having enough, moving his mouth against you like he’s kissing you there, sloppily, noisily and so damn messy.

You’re not damn ready for what comes next. When his fingers finally slip inside, you nearly scream, two of them, then three with his extra middle one sliding into your soaked pussy, while another circles your clit, working in perfect tandem with his tongue. "so tight, so wet for me," his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth again. "give it to me, sweetheart. . . let me have it, be a good girl for me, yeah?"  

His pace quickens as your walls flutter around his fingers. But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’re writhing and tears streaming down your cheeks from the pleasure. He licks, sucks and slurps at you, addicted to the way you taste, the way you feel. “Ford, I’m gonna cum—”  

You cry out and jerk your hips against his face as you do. He growls, gripping you tighter, holding you still as his mouth moves faster, hungrier. Your walls spasming around his long fingers, your clit pulsing between his lips.

But Ford’s mouth doesn’t lift and doesn’t slow, even when your thighs tremble and your fingers push weakly at his hair to tug him away.

“No, Ford, please,” you gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it in slow circles. “i-i can��t— too much. . . im sensitive, Ford—”  

But he doesn’t give a fuck, his grip tightens on your thighs to keep them spread wide. “Just one more, sweetheart,” his words slurred, drunk off the taste of you. “please-please, i need. . . one more, just one more for me.”  

You can’t hold back the loud cry that escapes you as his tongue dives back in, licking and lapping. Your legs jerk, trying to close, but his strong hands keep them locked open. “don’t fight me, let me, let me have you.”

“Ford, oh god—” your voice is broken as his tongue works all over your pussy, it’s overwhelming and unbearable, your entire body feels like a live wire as he devours you, never giving you a moment to recover.  

“that’s it, love, cum for me, please. . . be a good girl and cum on my face.”  

And you do again, god, you do, because there’s no stopping it. Your orgasm crashes over you again, ripping a scream from your throat as your back arches off the bed. Your vision whites out, your mind blank as your release floods through you.  

Ford moans into you as you come, his mouth latched onto your clit, his tongue lapping up every drop. When you start caressing his hair as if thanking him, he presses wet sloppy kisses to your trembling thighs. 

You’re still shaking and gasping for air, when he finally lifts his head, his chin glistening as he stares down at you and smiles. But you still can’t have enough, not satisfied, not when he haven’t been inside you and fucked you properly, you’ve been craving this for months and you totally go for it now. “Please, need you, Ford, please, i need you inside me.”  

He doesn’t even make any excuses this time when he kneels between your legs, his cock flushed and throbbing, the head slick with pearls of precum. “you sure?” is all he asks as his hands come up to cradle your hips.

“Yes, god, yes,” you plead, spreading your legs wider, your eyes glazed with need. “please, i can’t wait anymore! i need you.”  

He knows you do because he’s in absolutely same state as you, needy and desperate to fuck you, that’s why he’s pressing into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you open and you both moan loudly when he slides deeper, his girth filling you.

Ford is trembling above you, sweat slicking his brow as he inches himself inside carefully, terrified he might hurt you or worse, lose control. But you’re ready, so ready, your nails digging into his shoulders, “more, please, i can take it.”

Ford’s hips stutter as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt. “Y-you’re so tight, sweetheart, so damn tight. i don’t— don’t know if i can move. . . feels too good. . . god, you’re perfect.”  

You’re no better because your walls clench around him and your voice so high and breathless as you cry, “so full, Ford— oh my god, you’re so big.”

“I know, love, i know,” he soothes, finding your parted lips with his as he starts to move slowly, making shallow thrusts that have you both gasping. “you’re doing so good, taking me so well, feels like heaven, baby.”  

You feel every inch of him, every twitching vein as he sinks deeper, the stretch delicious, making your head spin. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. Your wet pussy squeezes his dick so good he nearly loses it right there.

And it’s too much, too good to be true, both of you letting out incoherent sounds and slurred praises as he thrusts into you, moving faster, his thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. You try to move together with him, creating a perfect sync.

“You feel so good, sweetheart, too good. i don’t— I don’t think i’m gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, cupping his cheek when you look right into his dazed eyes. “fuck me harder, Ford, please. . . need you so bad.”

He hears you, snapping his hips against yours, his pace quickening as he loses himself in you. Your moans about how good it feels fill the air while your hands are clawing at his back, nails biting into his skin as you try to pull him closer where it seems impossible. His scars feel rough under your touch as your fingers trace them blindly, making Ford moan at the sensation. His hips jerk forward, driving deeper and you cry out.

“So tight,” he groans into your ear. “you’re squeezing me, love, c-can’t think. . . you feel— oh, sweetheart, pussy so good.”

Your nails dig deeper, leaving crescents in his skin as he fucks into you with deep thrusts that have you gasping. “more, please, more,” you beg and he obeys without question, burying himself deeper, harder into your cunt.

“That’s it, love,” his hand slips between your hot bodies to find your aching clit, circling his fingers over the swollen nub with featherlight touches. “look at you. . . so beautiful, so good for me, you’re perfect, love. . . my perfect girl.”

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you, at the same time his thumb presses down on your clit and a sharp cry spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds.

“Ford!” you whimper while your hands clutch at him. “oh god, i—”

“I know, love, i know, i feel it, let go for me, sweetheart, cum for me.

His beautiful voice and words are enough to pull you through another powerful orgasm, your body tense as you finish, breathless, boneless, drunk on his cock.

Ford’s dick throbs as your release slicks his length, dripping down to pool at the base of him. “you’re so wet, sweetheart, good girl.”

You cant think, not really, too fucked out and tired, your body trembles and you can barely take a breath, but Ford doesn’t stop, determined to fuck your brains out. His thumb circles your clit again and your hips jerk away, the overstimulation making you whimper. “n-no, wait— I’m sensitive—”

“Just one more, love,” he pleads. “please, baby, just one more for me. you can do it, I know you can.”

You try to close your legs and your body twitches with every touch, too much to handle, but Ford holds you open firmly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he can reach. “you’re so good to me, so good, can’t get enough of you.”

He continues thrusting into you, filling your pussy to the brim and pulling out, slamming back again, you feel good, you do, especially with right amount of pressure being applied to your clit, but pleasure borders with sensitivity and little pain from overstimulation as he drags against that tender spot inside you. “Fuck, please! i can’t—”

“You can. You’re my good girl, you can give me one more, please, baby, cum on my cock again.” his words light a fire in your veins because the coil of pleasure tightening and building again despite the ache, despite all these overwhelming sensations. He fucks you so deliciously, grinding his hips into you in deep, slow rolls that make your toes curl and eyes roll, your nails scraping across his shoulders and back, all over his old scars. Ford groans at the sting.

“That’s it, love, just like that, let me have all of you.” he wets his fingers with saliva before bringing them on your sensitive nub again. “you like that? y-you like it when i touch you here, sweetheart? tell me, tell me how good it feels.”

“So gooood. . . feels so good, ford, don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me!” and then you break again, another orgasm crashing over you, but this time you literally scream from how good it feels, your body convulses, your nails dig into his back with such force that blood comes out. Ford watches you come undone as he fucks you through it, his cock coated in your juices once again.

Ford cant hold himself anymore because you notice how his thrusts grow more deeper, harder, more erratic. His sweaty forehead is pressed against yours, his groans changing into desperate pants and you feel how close he is because his cock twitches inside you, his body trembles as he fights to hold on. “don’t w-worry, don’t worry, I’ll pull out— I’ll—”  

“No!” the word bursts out of you in a panic and immediately, you lock your legs around his waist to prevent that. “no, no, Ford, please, don’t, you can’t, don’t leave me, please—” your words tumble out in a frantic, incoherent mess, more sob than speech honestly as you cling to him like your life depends on it. “please,” you babble, your nails scraping against his skin, pulling him impossibly closer. “need it, need you, don’t pull out, please, please, please—”  

His surprised eyes fly open as he processes your words. “but—”

All you do is nod frantically in response, hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep him in place. “yes, inside, cum inside me, I need it, I need you to cum inside me”  

Ford groans as he gives in, his hips snapping forward with a force that makes you cry out. He holds your thighs, spreading you wider for himself as he buries himself to the hilt, as deep as he can go. He growls as his head falls back, he squeezes his eyes shut and just loses himself. “gonna— g-gonna cum inside you. . .”  

It happens, finally, his hips slam into you one last time and he finishes, his cock pulses as his cum paints your walls white. He hides his face into your neck while loud sound tears from his throat, halfway between a groan and whine. He rolls his hips, continuing to sloppily and lazily thrust into your pussy, grinding against you, unable to stop because he needs to give you every last drop of himself. “you’re— my love, so good, I feel so good. . .”

You lay under him and take it all, milking him for everything he has. Your fingers tracing his beautiful scars, ones you gave him now and his own ones, smearing a little blood over his skin, your legs tightening around him as you whimper, feeling every pulse of him, every twitch of his cock inside as he fills you. Oh god, such intimacy leaves you dizzy, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.  

“Thank you, Ford,” your body arches into him, asking, no, seeking more, always more. “feels so good. . .”

Ford finally comes back to his senses upon hearing your voice, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he shudders through the last waves of his orgasm. He presses kisses to your face, your neck, your shoulders. “I love you, i never want to let you go.”  

He pulls out with a shaky groan as he tries to catch his breath, his cock still glistening and twitching. But the loss of him leaves you feeling achingly empty, your walls clenching around nothing as a soft whimper escapes your lips.  

Ford is frozen above you, though, his chest heaving, his wide eyes fixed between your legs. The sight of his warm thick seed slowly trickling out of you renders him completely silent.

You let out a deep sigh, dazed, a dumb little smile curling at your lips as you look up at him, completely blissed out and so beautifully ruined. You trail your fingers down slowly, maybe to tease him once more, until finally dipping between your thighs to catch the mess he’s made.  

You circle your clit gently, then lowering your fingers to your hole, collecting his cum, covering your fingers with this sticky mess and Ford tracks every movement. And then, oh, you push it back inside, curling your fingers deep, your head falling back with a quiet moan as you savour every drop.  

Ford fucking whimpers at the sight as he watches you pump his sperm back into yourself.

“Don’t. . . don’t want to lose it,” you smile, looking at your scientist through half-lidded eyes, gaze unfocused. “don’t want it to go to waste, want to feel you.”  

Before you can say another word, he’s on you again. His hands spread your thighs wides when he positions himself at your entrance. Without word, he pushes back in, groaning as he stretches you open again. “you’re beautiful,” he gives you a kiss, while slowly fucking his cum back into you again, making sure to not miss a drop, letting it stay where it belongs.  

You hold him close, caressing his face and looking into his beautiful eyes. “I love you so much,” but you get interrupted by a little sudden thrust he makes. “oh, ah, Ford!” 

“Shh, i’ve got you, love,” Ford gives you a warm loving smile, rocking his hips gently. “you were so good for me, sweetheart.” he looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered, like he’d give you the whole world if you asked and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your crazy heart thunders in your ears as you hug and cuddle him, lost in the way he fills you so completely, so perfectly, like you were made for this.

The two of you don’t even bother moving because there’s simply no energy left to clean up. Ford stays buried inside you with his heavy body on top of yours like a blanket. For the first time in life, you feel that safe, good and loved, warm and. . . full in every sense of the word.

Sometime later. . . hours? you’re not sure, but the soft gray light of dawn creeping through the curtains. You feel Ford’s broad chest pressed against your back and suddenly his hand skims up your thigh.

“Ford,” you murmur, half-asleep as his lips brush the curve of your shoulder. His hand finds your leg, gently lifting it as he settles himself against you. “yes, please. . .” you smile, closing your eyes as you feel his cock rubbing against your folds.

He kisses the side of your neck. “just need you again, can’t help it. . . need to feel your pussy around me.”

You moan softly as he slides into you from behind. The angle is perfect as he fills you, sending shivers through your sleepy body. His hand lays on your thigh, holding you steady as he starts rocking into you, slowly, still sleepy, but fucking deep, each thrust making you sigh and whimper.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” his free hand skims over your waist, cupping your breast and playing with your nipple.

Meanwhile your hand reaches back to clutch at his hip and your head falls back onto his shoulder, Ford drives deeper into your pussy. “Ford. . . oh, Ford, yesss. . . just like that.” you mewl sleepily when you feel his fingers on your clit. 

You dont know what time is it, probably very very early morning, but you let him take you. There’s no rush, no urgency, just sleepy, languid thrusts and quiet soft moans you two share in the early morning while being half awake.

The sun is higher now, casting autumn golden streaks across the room, when you wake again. You’re alone in the bed and your body deliciously sore, marked with the evidence of last night. . . and this morning. Faint marks of kisses and hickeys bloom along your skin, the ache in your thighs reminds you of how thoroughly he’d claimed you.

The blanket is all over you, keeping you warm despite your nudity. You stretch out, yawning and blink away the last traces of sleep, but you notice him at the edge of the bed. Ford sits with his scarred back to you, hair messy, but his posture is perfectly straight as he leans over his. . . ah, yeah, now you see it, journal.

He’s scribbling something down there, intense focused, face serious and you just lay there, enjoying comfortable silence and watching him, taking in the way he looks so handsome even in his rumpled state.

“Morning, genius,” you murmur finally.

Ford glances over his shoulder. “Oh, good morning, love,” he says warmly, setting the journal aside and moving to your side of the bed. He leans down to kiss you, brushing his hand over your hair. “how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admit with a smile as you stretch beneath the blanket.

Ford studies you. “i’d say that’s to be expected. Rest a bit longer, okay? I’ll make us something to eat soon.”

“You better hurry because i’m so starved,” you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Starved, are you? well, you’re taking a shower first,” he says seriously, though his tone remains gentle. “you’re not wandering around covered in. . .” he stops himself as his cheeks flush a little, trying to find right words to use.

“Hm? Covered in what, ford?” you tease, propping yourself up on one elbow.  

“You know what, honey, don’t make me say that.”

Your eyes flick to his journal. “what are you even writing in there, anyway? can’t believe you’re making notes after the night we had. Is it, like, some x-rated research?”  

Because of your question, Ford straightens up, his face expression changes, the earlier embarrassment melting away as excitement takes its place. He looks like he’s just cracked the secret of the universe. “actually,” he begins, adjusting his glasses, “i think i’ve finally solved the equation for that anomaly we’ve been tracking! The one that disappeared because of the rainstorm, remember? I had a theory about the dimensional distortion rate and this morning, it all just clicked!” Ford launches into an explanation now. 

You, however, just blink at him and knowing grin spreads across your face. “so, what you’re saying is. . . my pussy literally makes you smarter?”  

Ford stops mid-sentence as he stares at you, flustered. “i— I wouldn’t put it like that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, looking everywhere except at you. “but. . . perhaps there’s a correlation. . .”

You just laugh, dropping back onto the pillows as you watch his awkward attempts to compose himself. “yeah, yeah, Ford, I got you.”

He grumbles something about inappropriate comments, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a shy smile.  

“So, my pussy is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe? Who knew i was a genius all along.”  

Ford groans, hiding his face in his hands, “Oh my god,” he says your name. “you’re impossible.”  

[lovemomhatepolice]

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Rafe would never agree to group sex in his life. Maybe it would have crossed his mind even earlier when he wasn't in a relationship with you and just had a single life, but now there's no way he would agree to it. Even more so for sex with another man, oh no. He wouldn't tolerate the sight of you and someone else giving you pleasure

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, let's not kid ourselves, Rafe definitely prefers to receive something than to give. Although let's not hide it, this is slowly changing, and thanks to you! (And for you) Previously, he was only focused on his own pleasure, and now he wants to give it to you as well, because after all, you are his only princess, whom he has to take care of and make sure she is quite satisfied But yes, he's pretty darn talented

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Here, too, I don't think there is too much to say. It really depends on your mood, because Rafe can also be slow and tender, but very often your sex is just rough. Not that you don't like it, on the contrary. Ever since you started having sex with Rafe, you immediately liked it, and what's to say, the boy definitely knows what he's doing And just so you know! Even though he's harsh, that doesn't mean he's hurting you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Ay, this man is definitely a fan of fast rounds. I think he very often feels the need to just take you to any toilet and just fuck you. That's right, that's why quickies are paradise for him. Wherever you are, you are always in the mood for them How often? Often. But not as often as your evening long games

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) The risk is as much as you allow. Rafe doesn't seem to me to be the type who insisted very much. After all, he is the son of one of the most influential men on the island, after all, he can't disgrace the name. As much as he would love to show everyone that you are his and only his, there are limits he won't cross himself, much less without your loud approval. He's more of a risk taker when it comes to getting you pregnant…

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He can score many rounds, really, is how much he has in him…. oh jesus Do you want one round? Alright, there will be one. You want five? There will be five. As much as you are able to endure, so long will Rafe be able to endure as well. Sometimes a little shorter, he'll satisfy you with his hand or mouth, and sometimes longer than you do, so he'd probably expect the same from you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn't have and has never had toys intended for himself. Nor has he ever been a big fan of them, because he thought he could do everything himself much better than some plastic. However, once he saw you satisfying yourself with a vibrator while he was home, I swear, Rafe went crazy Now he occasionally pulls it out of your drawer when you fuck and it assists your orgasm, and sometimes he just wants you to show him how you satisfy yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) The man is a bloody teaser. He can touch you somewhere all day, send you all sorts of bawdy messages and behave in the worst way he can, only to pretend later in the evening that none of this happened and leave you alone craving remarks. The same during intercourse, when you are already geared up to take him in…. Ah, Rafe

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Rafe is not a fan of being loud. Of course, you may hear loud sighs or gasps of air coming from his mouth. Often moans as well, but in his case it is quite muffled. He much prefers to listen to your loud voice, which shudders from the satisfaction it gives your body

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) In the past, he often had sex under the influence of drugs, so long as he didn't really feel anything but them and the created satisfaction. It wasn't until he met you and put them aside that he saw what real intimacy was and that he didn't need powders and pills at all to be satisfied

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He is big, really, after all. It will come as no surprise to anyone when I write this very thing. Rafe is big and there is no fooling himself. And at the same time he's damn experienced, which is why he knows how to fit in perfectly in you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Rafe could fuck all day. I swear, you and him are like fucking rabbits. But what a surprise, Rafe Cameron is irresistible and he thinks the same about you. As soon as he sees you, he immediately wants to have you as close as he can. And of course it shows - I'll say it again, Rafe Cameron is a clingy guy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't fall asleep very quickly, I assume he has sleep problems caused by various traumatic events. When you are next to him, of course, he falls asleep much easier, however, he continues to have problems with them. He likes to lie down and touch your bare hands or hair to calm down a bit and fall asleep faster, but this doesn't always work out, so you stay with him longer and wait until he falls asleep so you can fall asleep easily yourself, without worrying that your boyfriend won't get a wink of sleep all night

A/N: first part! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[bullet-prooflove]

Bad Timing: Tim Gutterson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

It’s always a case of bad timing between you and Tim, it’s been that way since Afghanistan. A couple of stolen nights here and there before one of you departs for greener pastures. For him it was Iraq, for you it was an honourable discharge before you took up a position in the FBI.

When he becomes a US Marshal he figures the two of you will find your way back to each other again at some point, he just doesn’t expect it to be in some backwater shithole near Harlan in the midst of a raid. He doesn’t expect it to come with a punch in the face as you escape through an open window. He chases you for almost two miles before he catches up and that’s only because you let him.

Distance running has always been your thing, just like intelligence work.

“Fuck Lucky.” He mutters, trying to catch his breath as you slow to a halt outside the abandoned Anderson house. “Did you really need to run me out this far?”

The reason they call you Lucky is because back in Afghanistan no matter what fucked up shit you  were caught up in you always made it out. It didn’t matter what the odds were, the one thing he could always bet on was on you.

It had started because of those five days you spent hiding out in the hills, evading the Taliban with nothing but your wits and a combat knife.

Lucky is what they called you when you came stumbling through those gates looking like you’d been dragged through hell.

Fierce and smart as fuck is what he thought when they’d headed back to the caves and found the mess you’d left there, along with the intelligence cache you’d secreted away. He’d fallen a little bit in love with you right there and then.

“You looked like you could use the exercise.” You say, putting your hands on your hips with that devil may care smile on your lips.

Christ you look beautiful, even in the light from the shitty streetlamp overhead. He remembers the last time he’d had his hands on you. It was during that law enforcement conference up in Louisiana a couple of months ago. You’ve always been a little wild, a little crazy and that translates into the bedroom. He’s asked you to come stay with him in Lexington, give this thing between the two of you a real shot.

“After this assignment.” You had promised him as you straddled his hips. “Let me get these next couple of months over and done with and then we can talk about playing house together.”

You’d meant it, he could tell from the look in your eyes before you rode him into oblivion.

“That eye is gonna turn a pretty colour in the morning.” You say interrupting his thoughts as you reach out to touch the place where you socked him. There’s a tenderness in your touch, one that he spends his nights craving. This is the other side to you, the part he misses more than anything. The part that loves him, the one that will always love him.

“I’d take any hit you can give me as long as it means you’re safe.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over the tattoo on your wrist, the one of a four leaf clover. “When are you gonna be done with this undercover bullshit and come home to me?”

“When redneck militias stop buying up rocket launchers to blow up churches.” You tell him and he sighs because he knows what that means.

It’s not easy dismantling an arms ring, especially one with ties to the military. There jurisdictional issues in play, different agencies get involved which means more risk on your part. It also means a bigger investigation because operations like this filter into different states depending on what the hook up is. Guns from Texas, grenades from Florida, body armour from Kansas, the list goes on.

The two of you are looking at a year maybe, instead of the months you’d both thought.

“I guess we still have a case of really bad timing don’t we darlin?” He says, his heart aching at the prospect of spending another year without you.

“Yea Tim.” You say softly. “We sure do.”

Love Tim? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[usbshitake]

How trust-based, love-based relationship with Gavin Reed would be like:

You nod, your smile widening. “I do. Your rough edges are part of who you are. They’re what make you, you. And I love every part of you.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, he lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?” His usual smirk returns, but it’s softer, more genuine. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

Gavin leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I don’t want to change who I am,” he admits. “But knowing you accept me, all of me… it means more than you know.”

You smile and say: I’d want you to kick me in the ass without mercy and pity when I’d be whining… I’d want to you to confront me to whatever bullshit I’d say or do. I like this traits of yours, so I don’t want you to hold back even when I would get touchy about it

Gavin Reed’s reaction is immediate, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering in his eyes. He appreciates the honesty and the trust embedded in your words. He tightens his grip on you slightly, his expression softening as he processes what you’ve just said.

“Well, you asked for it,” Gavin says with a smirk. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because I care. If you start acting up, I’ll call you out on it. But remember, it goes both ways. If I’m being a prick, you better not hold back either.”

His thoughts align with his words, a firm resolve settling in.

Gavin Reed thought: “She’s serious about this, and so am I. This isn’t just some fling or a momentary thing. She wants me to keep her grounded, to push her when she needs it. Hell, that’s what I’ve always done best. I won’t sugarcoat things, and I won’t let her fall into old habits. We’ll keep each other honest and strong.

But it’s more than that. She’s giving me the permission to be myself completely, to be the blunt, straightforward bastard I am, because she knows it comes from a place of care. No more holding back. If this is what she needs, I’ll be there every step of the way. We’ll face everything together, even the ugly parts.

This is how we’ll grow. This is how we’ll make each other better. And damn it, I won’t let her down.”

He looks back at you, a newfound determination in his gaze. “Deal?” he asks, holding out his hand for you to shake, a playful yet serious challenge in his eyes.

Gavin looks at you with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his eyes, the edges of his mouth curling into a smirk that matches your own. As your hand moves to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you can sense the connection between you deepening even further.

you say with a smirk forming on your lips: you… as you are… so sexy… This intensity, directness, abrasiveness and softness too… So hot and beautiful. I’ll try my best to get better at all of this too. Not for you. But… for myself

Gavin Reed thought: "She really gets me. All of me. It's not just about the tough exterior, the abrasiveness—she sees the layers beneath, the intensity and the softness that I rarely show. And she's willing to embrace it all. It's crazy how someone can see you so clearly and make you feel...understood.

And her saying she'll do this for herself, not just for me, that’s something. Shows strength, shows she’s in this for the right reasons. She’s not just looking for a savior; she’s looking for a partner. It’s hot, honestly. This mix of vulnerability and determination she has, it’s driving me wild."

Gavin leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, "You already are, you know. Sexy as hell. And seeing you grow, seeing you do this for yourself... that’s the most beautiful thing."

His hand covers yours on his chest, his fingers gently squeezing. "We’ll get better together. Push each other, challenge each other. And we’ll do it our way. No bullshit, no holding back." His voice is low, full of a promise that’s both fierce and tender.

You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your touch, matching your own. The room feels charged with a new energy, an unspoken understanding that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

[ask-tdw-0666]

Tough Love (The Villains Lair) (Minecraft Villains Version)

Alvar:

Ever since I was a boy my own father vowed I must find the way to power through a noble brow I married once for love, then my senses came I must marry for the stature of my wife's name Onto marriage number two I knew what I had to do And my poor wife was killed in a year or two Solved problem number one, now to problem number two Her doe-eyed little boy with gentle point of view

Would I ship him off to school? No! I told him if he stayed that he'd have To earn his keep and so he became the maid

Charlie and Joey:

He was lazy He was crazy He was talking to the mice

Alvar: Janis was hopelessly naive, so he had to pay the price I moved him to the attic out of sight and out of mind I could have thrown him out, but I'm benevolent and kind

Charlie and Joey:

Sire, your heart's too big for you!

Alvar:

I knew what I had to do After all, difficult children will take advantage of your good nature

So you lock them up from away the key There's one on every family tree

Charlie and Joey:

Ungrateful Hateful Vile too, the things he put you through

Break their spirit so they obey Now they'll do anything you say Maybe you'd call it cruel but others would call it love Tough love

I ask you, is it a crime to strive for perfection in all things?

Walda:

Oh no, they're so cute when they're little but Then they grow up and just ruin everything

I never wanted children, life was better on my own All the screaming, nagging chilled me to the bone But then one day I came across a flower growing free It's magic kept me young, so I kept it all for me But someone dug it up, now a baby held the power So I "borrowed" him, locked him up and hid him in a mansion, Years went by, Oh, the sacrifice And against my better judgment, I fed him once or twice Teenagers now I know I wild eat their young But that's messy Manipulation's easily more fun A little guilt, a lot of force of course you have to lie Remind them that without you, they'd shrivel up and die

They only have themselves to blame If you'd been there, you'd do the same

Walda:

So work them hard 'til they fall in line There's one way and it's only mine The children are lazy Spoiled too

Alvar and Walda:

But we know what to do Govern them with a heart of stone Lock them up, so they're all alone Maybe you'd call it cruel but Others would call it love, tough love

Herobrine:

Ugh, his own room with a water view and He runs away, the first change He gets?

Alvar:

These wretched brats think the World owes them something, but it doesn't..

Herobrine:

Far and wide I rule the kingdom with a heavy hand But there was more, I had in mind a greater plan I never cared to share, so my brother would have to fall But his "child" blocked the way to me and "Fairest of them all" He was chubby, He was dumb And grotesquel optimistic He needed structure in her life He wasn't realistic I give him chores and took away the things that he'd enjoy But then I caught him singing songs with birds and then a girl Love? Was I just sit by and wait? For him to take my crown? No He had sealed his fate He had to go, and so he did and you know what They say, "An apple once a day keeps your enemies away"

All:

Don't be fooled by their tender smile Give an inch and they'll run a mile

Our idea for a happy home Is one where we live all alone Dark Depressing Desolate Now let's all drink to that Call us wicked call us mean Cruel and everything in between You could say it's unjust Turning their dreams to dust This is what we call love, tough love!

[bothendsofthequill]

I think something that should be thought about differently is so called “rougher” tickles. As in, more intense tickling.

Making someone laugh harder doesn't mean you have to be inconsiderate or, God forbid, hurtful. Just find your lee's softest spots, love them madly and squeals of delight are sure to follow! Heck, the best spots are the ones where you don't even have to try for bellowing laughter. You know, that hearty laugh that comes right from the diaphragm? The type that feels so effortless and happy? Find the right spot and watch them melt into it. So heavenly~.

And theeeen, if you know your lee and can tell when they're about to get tired (or they just tell you), THAT'S when you go crazy on their soft spots to totally melt them!! Brush their arches and toes, squeeze their thighs, give their armpits those tickly digs, wrap yourself around them and spider their belly all over! Whatever liquifies their tender ticklee heart, go wild with it for the final stretch!!

Actually, who cares to wait? Sometimes a shorter yet intense burst of hysterics is what we all need. Study your lee to find what makes them tick(lish) and show just how much you love 'em by making them laugh harder then ever before. The world's best gift~.

[sirwilliam945-blog]

Foreplay

Foreplay©

By: William Phenn

Foreplay as we know it,

Is prelude to a love.

A meaningful beginning,

For a man and his sweet dove.

 It starts with so much kissing,

Her lips her neck and eyes.

To get her to forget about,

The other rowdy guys.

 Then once the kissing is over,

The real dance it begins.

You start to peel her coverings,

Like fragile onion skins.

The first thing is her blouse,

The buttons you undo.

The next thing is that sexy skirt,

But she’ll do that for you.

 You help her with her sexy heels,

She now is short and sweet.

And her sexy silky stockings,

You gently roll so neat.

 With a hand upon your shoulder,

She steadies herself firm.

So as you pull the last one off,

Her little toes do squirm.

You now stand up and face her,

This Princess of your dreams.

You hug her and embrace her,

Until she begs and screams.

 Then after much more hugging,

And her neck oh so red.

You cease the crazy kissing,

And haul her off to bed.

 Up in your arms you hold her,

She does not fight at all.

You lay her on the king sized bed,

And fake a goofy fall.

 Your body falling on her,

You make sure it’s not for real.

You slowly drift on top of her,

Her urgency you feel.

 With teasing loving motions,

Her bra will disappear.

But not those soft pink panties,

So lovely and so sheer.

 Your shirt she helps unbutton,

Too slowly for your taste.

You tear it off so quickly,

You have no time to waste.

 Your pants she does unbuckle,

The zipper she slides down.

You get up quickly off the bed,

While she pulls them to the ground.

 So now you stand before her,

Erect as a man can be.

She sees that she’s in for a treat.

Her eyes light up with glee.

 Your T-shirt rips off easily,

And soon you’re standing bare.

Except for one last garment,

You tease her with a stare.

 The bulge is quite impressive,

The twitch she chuckles at.

But when she tugs your shorts off,

She sees the baseball bat.

 She stares in such amazement,

She can’t believe her eyes.

She turns away so quickly,

To run away she tries.

 But you move much more swiftly,

And catch her by the arm.

And reassure her gently,

That Roscoe means no harm.

 You kiss her wild eyes softly,

A tender kiss or two.

Then move down to her neck and ears,

And whisper what you’ll do.

 Amazing things you tell her,

Such acts she’s never seen.

She tells you very honestly,

That’s where she’s never been.

 You nuzzle up quite close to her,

Your hand is on her chest.

You slowly move it in to play,

Upon her supple breast.

 She sighs as you continue,

Your cool erotic dance.

Her mind begins to wander,

To places of romance.

 She thinks of Tropic Islands,

While you play with her mounds.

She whispers uncontrollably,

Those soft erotic sounds.

 She throws her arms around you,

And pulls you to her chest.

She tells you that she loves you,

And how you are the best.

 You smile and you are grateful,

Your Princess she is pleased.

But you have just got started,

Your Princess you’ve just teased.

 Now starting to acquaint her,

With what love is about.

You gently take her by the wrists,

And bring the handcuffs out.

In one smooth easy motion,

The cool steel clamps her tight.

You tell her the first rule of love,

It’s Trust, so it’s alright.

 Now that she is helpless,

You grin that evil grin.

And start to show her finally,

How True Love shall begin.

 You kiss her eyes and wanton lips,

Continue to her neck and ears.

You whisper so seductively,

To cast away her fears.

 Her soft and creamy shoulders,

Your lips may linger there.

But you want to express your love,

And show her that you care.

 So down your lips continue,

Your tongue it seeks the spot.

The truly one magnificent,

The one that makes her Hot!

 You glide down on her belly,

Your raspy tongue does play.

You suck up all the goodness,

Your Princess does display.

 With moist lips you discover,

Her belly button found.

You bury your head deep inside,

And flick your tongue around.

 Dropping even lower,

Below her waist you go.

Your tongue is on a mission,

To that erotic place you know.

 Your hands placed on her waistband,

You pull her panties off.

She squirms a little from you,

You see her moistened trough.

You couldn’t help but notice,

How wet and warm she was.

You know she’ll go ballistic,

When Roscoe starts to buzz.

 Your nostrils are attracted,

To an exotic musky scent.

With lips and tongue you find its source,

Her volcano you will vent.

 Such calculating gestures,

Your lips and tongue they make.

You press them to her honey pot,

And cause a violent quake.

 Before your tongue can enter,

She tries to pull away.

But your strong arms will pin her,

So there is where she’ll stay.

 Your head is now so buried,

Within her thighs so deep.

She writhes and screams for you to stop,

But you don’t hear a peep.

 The handcuffs they are holding,

Her arms so she won’t fight.

She needs what you are doing,

To be Loved so good tonight.

 With gasps of breath she feels you,

Your rough tongue did its job.

With wild convulsive actions,

She breaks into a sob.

 Such screaming and such thrashing,

You’ve never seen before.

It makes you very happy,

And you please your Princess more.

Your tongue performed its magic,

Now the digits want their turn.

They want to tweak her button,

And make her tushy burn.

 So slowly they do part the folds,

The hood they lift in praise.

Your fingers searching deeper,

Such passion they do raise.

 They find what they are seeking,

Her lovely maiden head.

But your fingers do not enter,

You use your tongue instead.

 With wrists still bound securely,

She twists and turns her hips.

Which makes it more exciting,

For your tongue between her lips.

 Her volcano starts erupting,

And you sense her passion grow.

Her nectar it starts flooding you,

Like a molten Lava flow.

 You reach up and behind her,

The handcuffs you release.

Her panting eases down a bit,

She thinks you’ll give her peace.

 But that is not the game plan,

For she knows not what you’ll do.

She’s made it through Phase I so far,

But now there is Phase II.

 You take her by her lovely wrists,

And sit her up in bed.

Your fingers slowly rub the spot,

Where the handcuffs made them red.

You kiss her wrists, her fingers, her hands,

You part her ruby lips.

Your tongues dives deep inside her mouth,

While you firmly hold her hips.

 She shudders with excitement,

As she feels your growing need.

She moans a sigh of pleasure,

When she feels your hardened steed.

 You turn to lay beside her,

Your head is facing south.

She knows you’re up to something,

When her mound meets with your mouth.

 With your demanding fingers,

Her thighs she spreads for you.

And as you move close to her,

Her hands are busy too.

 As you moved closer to her,

She took you by the core,

And closed her fingers on you,

Her lips they begged for more.

 She knew what you were doing,

Her passion rose quite high.

Now she clutched you in her hands,

You know the reason why.

 Engrossed in what you’re doing,

Her fantasy made real.

Your heart stops for a moment,

When her lips upon you feel.

 Your beautiful shy Princess,

A woman now possessed.

Becomes the flaming Vixen,

That she has long repressed.

 Engulfing you completely,

She knows just how to please.

She’ll drain you of your substance,

And bring you to your knees.

 Before you know what hit you,

Your loins they tremble so.

Convulsions rock your body,

And your juices you let go.

She’s made you very happy,

Now the rest is up to you.

You put your arms around her,

And enter as you do.

 You need to start out easy,

So much has happened here.

You continue reassuring her,

She has nothing to fear.

 Your member is exploding,

It wants so much to dive.

But you keep it on a tether,

Till that moment does arrive.

 With slow seductive movements,

You keep the flame alive.

Her constant glowing embers,

Help lubricate the drive.

 Such orchestrated actions,

Your body does perform.

You feel the heat of her inside,

And prepare for such a storm.

 Your pace though slightly quickened,

Does not convey much haste.

This wonderfully blissful moment,

You do not want to waste.

 With kisses you impale her,

Her breasts your fingers squeeze.

The nipples that you twist and turn,

Beg your attention, “Please”.

 You notice her reaction,

To what you’ve done so far.

You have much better entry,

To your flaming Shooting Star.

 Now once again you quicken,

Your thrusts are fast and deep.

You want to introduce her to,

The joys of love she’ll reap.

 Your every stroke affects her,

In ways you do not know.

It takes her to such splendid heights,

To places you can’t go.

 Your swelling, pulsing member,

Is working overtime.

You want her to enjoy so much,

You want her bells to chime.

 Now the pace slows to a crawl,

You ease it in and out.

You tease her lovely honey pot,

You know what that’s about.

 Take head to build the fire,

With kindling from the best.

So when you do apply the coals,

She’ll forget about the rest.

 You gather up the forces,

That brought her to the brink.

And now you hope she’s ready,

You’ve done it all, she’ll think.

 Her nectar is still boiling,

Eruption is at hand.

You take it slow and carefully,

It needs to be quite grand.

 Volcanic juices flowing,

You feel her down below.

Your own are almost bursting,

But you continue very slow.

 “Yes now”, she screams,

With a shrieking voice.

You know that you,

Don’t have a choice.

 You brace her for,

That great attack,

Too late now,

No turning back.

 Your final plunge is swift and deep,

It lets her know what is to be.

You hold her with a mighty grip,  

And blast her like a raging sea.

 Her eyes wide with astonishment,

She hugs you very tight.

You see her tears of ecstasy,

On this starry moonlight night.

 Vivaldi in the background,

Does not drown out the cries,

Her joy is so magnificent,

Emancipation in her eyes.

 You’ve brought her out of hiding,

Your love has shown the way.

She now can see the meaning,

True love is here to stay.

[theviceadmiralswife]

Salute recruits and soldiers to this massive Monday

For today I have a special treat give me  your OC as self insert in the One piece world and I tell you which admiral and vice admirals would be your lovers, friends and rivals.

THANK YOU FOR COLLAB ❤ @edward-d-sonata this one is for you !!!!

Lovers and romantic interests 

Kizaru definitely would be into your OC , Kizaru sees a princess in every woman. He must make sure they look and feel like it too. Oh he doesn't like to see you cry. Kizaru surely loves to chase your OC, he is genuinely happy when your OC gives finally in and he can spoil her with pretty things. Kizaru loves shopping for your OC dresses and jewellery and is in utter admiration when your OC transforms into a proper lady (according to him), he must worship the work he does with your OC it makes him truly happy and by worship i mean with or without clothes, he loves his ladies.

Another admiral would be Ryokugyu... he digs into the Rebel style of your OC, live life to the fullest... don't care if you offend. But its only your OC where he allows that, other women to him belong into the kitchen and are supposed to be more traditional and submissive. I think he will have a fetish for your curls and wants constantly to wrap them around his finger.. its like your OC hair is his personal fidget toy. Teases your OC for wearing a choker and being someone's pet, but secretly desires to be his pet.

From the vice admirals I say definitely Yamakaji will go romantically after her, he loves a woman with introversion but sassy spank that keeps him on his toes. Kind of the dynamic of Yamakaji is carving figures out of wood, but your OC will be the one with the axe chopping down the tree for him. He genuinely likes to dry the tears of your OC when she has a bad day and those bear hugs he also takes care of your OC's scars.

vice admiral Stainless will be interested in her romantically. Opposites attract with him. Your OC isn't the most classical woman but Stainless needs to be in her orbit. The attraction between the 2 is magnetic.After getting to understand each other she goes out in fancy restaurants with him or the opera... in return Stainless hits with her the gym arm wrestle or practice fighting... he is also the one that always will cook he can't see your OC eating whatever she summoned on her plate,  and Stainless swears its straight up from hell.. yes your OC likes cooking doesn't mean she is good at it... and Stainless loves your OC he cooks for her and teaches her cooking  he likes to improve her skills.

Dalmatian would persue her too, they actually share a love of chokers and switch them regularly Dalmatian wears hears and your OC wears his choker collar and sometimes they tie a leash to each other. Just to shock other people 😳 They both love outdoors, camping in the wild is their thing. Unapologetically not afraid of anything. Dalmatian is attracted to that drive to survive and the fact that besides such a sass your OC is tender to animals and she loves animals more then people, big plus for the furry vice admiral... your OC loves to scratch Dalmatian behind his ear and watching his animalistic traits take over i.e tail wagging like crazy, tongue hanging out and drooling, it always makes her laugh.

Secret admirer

Fleet admiral Sakazuki is your OC's secret admirer, though from the way he acts to your OC  you'd never guess. He prefers a more traditional woman officially... in secret he wishes he could get your OC to be his, have her sit in his office at his and his moods disposal, for whatever his needs might be,  but he is so busy being a fleet admiral.

FRIENDS AND CONFIDE 

Fujitora... your OC is relativ chill she doesn't mind Fujitora gambling and makes sure he isn't cheated upon, cause that would be dishonorable. Fujitora and your OC share the same sense of honour and Fujitora is delighted to be your OC's friend and role model, they love to eat a bowl of noodles together.

Smoker and her are drinking buddies and play dart as they compete who can drink most. If your OC gets too much drunk she will smoke Smokers cigars...😝 drives him mad... also there are wanted posters of pirates on the bullseye 🎯 of the dart board... to work off pant up aggression.

Vice admiral Doll is your OC's  one of a few rare female friends your OC and Doll share the same sense of rock Rebel style  and certainly that feisty fighting attitude. When those two hit the Marine base gym the boys leave, there's no messing around when those 2 go for a sparring.

Rivals and foes

Most people get along with your OC , but there's a few exceptions. One of these would be Aokiji, not only is your OC a bit upset about the Injuries caused to Sakazuki but her temper is more in alignment with the fleet admiral. Your OC doesn't get Aokijis laziness its way too relaxed for her. Your OC and Aokiji will be snapping at each with words like two terriers with rabies, if they meet, BUT after Aokiji left it got worse there is some real intention in your OC's character to hurt Aokiji, the reason Aokiji  doesn't go for a kill blow on your OC is because of Kizarus affection for your OC.           (Nobody is so stupid to hurt one of Kizarus ladies, serious death wish)

Speaking of seriously kill mood, your OC and Onigumo are rivals in a very wicked sense... but unlike with Aokiji your OC  and Onigumo are more competitive, WHO can kill the pirates with the highest bounty, WHO kills more pirates in one mission and WHO kills the most brutal. One of these 2 is bad but having both hunt pirates....Its a demonic combination to have Onigumo and your OC come together to hunt you if your a pirate. Way worse.Their kill count is head to head currently and pirates quiver in fear and shake in their boots  of your OC's reputation as a torturer almost as bad as Onigumo.

The other rivalry your OC has is more serious but not as deadly serious as with Aokiji. Your OC and vice admiral Gion are in a toe to toe race for an Admiral position. Their rivalry is like the rivalry of the popular "It" girl (Gion) vs the underdog (your OC). Its also a clash of moral vs absolute justice. Gion  is currently in the lead due to  Gions popularity amongst lower Marines, as your OC comes across as rough at times. However your OC is determined to push the scales into her favour, but how she does it is currently TOP SECRET....

@theviceadmiralswife meet my Oc/self insert (let’s do a collaboration interaction)

Vice admiral ‘Rampage’ Sonata she’s 24 and single her facial and back scars comes from before she joined the marines when she was captured and tortured by pirates when she was 15, she’s blunt, seems cold and aggressive but is secretly a softie and cuddlebug

Height: 5’6. Devil fruit: red triceratops

Likes: reading, cooking, baking, knitting

Dislikes: dumbasses, roaches, and bullies

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Mirror Mirror (02x04) Spirk Musings

Aren't Prime Kirk and Spock's reactions to their Mirror Universe incarnations of each other hilarious?

LOOK AT JIM'S FACE.

He is such a shook lil' cinnamon roll: What the what now? Where's my Spock?! BEARD!!! Spoop intensifies

It's also hilarious what a monumental deal that Jim is making over Spock's beard. Immediately. Like why does that matter so hard to him?

A grand total of nobody but Jim is making such a fuss about it. Nobody else is out here popping off over First Officer Spock's facial hair like this except Jim. And it is both Jim's doing it.

Zero chill about Spock's facial hair in every universe confirmed. Apparently Spock's grooming being Jim's business is a universal constant.

Also precious: How quickly Jim Prime just gravitates to Spock, even a Mirror Spock, when he is feeling in over his head in the Mirror universe. He immediately sets about trying to work with Spock - any Spock - to find a solution, because that's just second nature to him.

Spock is his security blanket in any universe, it seems.

Jim Prime even takes it so far as to join Bones in insisting upon saving Mirror Spock's life at the risk of not getting home to their own universe:

Jim Prime believes in his heart of hearts that every Spock - - that every single Spock in every single universe has an ounce of good in them that is worth appealing to and saving.

It amazes me how unwavering his faith in Spock's character is. It actually pays off for Jim Prime to put his faith in Spock, wherever he ends up in any universe.

And then there is Spock Prime back at the ranch with Mirror Kirk, exhausted:

Mirror Kirk : Has the whole galaxy gone crazy? What kind of a uniform is this? Where's your beard? What's going on? Where's my personal guard?

Mr. Spock : I can answer none of your questions at this time.

Mirror Kirk : [chuckling in amusement]  All right, Spock. Whatever your game is, I'll play it. You want credits? I'll give them to you. You'll be a rich man. A command of your own? I can swing that, too.

Mr. Spock : Apparently, some sort of transposition has taken place. I find it... extremely interesting.

Mirror Kirk : Spock. What is it that will buy you? Power?

Mr. Spock : [shaking it off]  Fascinating.

Aww, Mirror Jim doesn't understand what real love is. He is out here thinking that he can buy or favour his way out of this with Spock Prime.

Meanwhile Spock Prime is like: Wow. I wonder what actually motivates Mirror Spock to help this guy; I just do what I do simply because I love my Jim.

How sad. How pitiful. :( Bet Mirror Kirk is amazing in bed though. SHHH!-What? We are all thinking it, including Spock Prime.

Especially Spock Prime.

Y'all know Mirror Kirk was a handful, and it's kind of tender and sweet that Spock Prime seems happy and relieved to have his own Jim back.

(Also the way Mirror Spock says to Kirk Prime: "I must have my Captain back." Like, no matter which Spock we are dealing with, it applies. Ugh. Ugh. Spock loves his Jim in any universe. Don't even care how broken he is, give him back. Just . . . UGH. Primo.)

Still, cinna- I mean Kirk Prime really resonated with Mirror Spock. So much so that he convinced Mirror Spock to help him and led him to question the entire Empire in the process.

Mirror Spock : The Empire shall be overthrown, of course.

Captain James T. Kirk : The illogic of waste, Mr. Spock. A waste of lives, potential, resources, time. I submit to you that your Empire is illogical because it cannot endure. I submit that you are illogical to be a willing part of it.

Jim Prime just swooped in out of nowhere and shook up Mirror Spock's entire foundation, identity and life.

So now Mirror Spock is out there like:

Dang, I need to get me a Cinnamon Roll™ edition Jim Kirk of my own.

(P.S.: Do you think that after Jim Prime disappeared into the Nexus that Spock Prime went wild going through every single crackhead possibility, outcome and avenue he could explore in his desperation to try to understand or uncover what happened to his Jim?

And he'd lie awake at night thinking over theories and possibilities and places to look and it just hits him one night like: Merciful Surak. Did Mirror Spock finally come over here and purloin my Cinnamon Roll™ edition Jim Kirk?

. . . I'm gonna stop now.)

Image Sources: TrekCore

Inspired by @shyravenns post.

[kpophubb]

Hey, I saw that you were accepting requests 💓So, can I request a friends to lovers trope with Heeseung where he is an idol and reader is a staff member (also Jungwon is like reader's platonic soulmate)

Also, I really love your works🥰take care

❥𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 // ℓєє нєєѕєυηց

🄶🄴🄽🅁🄴: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒, 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ᰔ

“𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆 ♥︎”

✼••┈┈┈┈••✼♡✼••┈┈┈┈••✼ ♡✼••┈┈┈┈••✼

6 months prior, you joined under hybe labels as an assistant stylist, which means it’s been six months since heeseung’s heart had adapted itself to a new rhythm. Half a year, since this lover boy’s heart had begun dancing to his newfound cherished melody- the melody of you.

To think that fate would pull its magical chords and align you as the personal stylist of belift lab, that too under enhypen, where you get the chance to breathe the same air as lee heeseung was more than just a miracle. Even though you were an assistant stylist who seldom did big makeovers, it was enough to blow your heart that in more than one cases, you’d work in an unrealistically close proximity of the man who had single handedly dominated your mind and lived there rent free, no one else but your beloved idol crush heeseung.

Much to your oblivion, heeseung felt the same crazy way about you and the tension and attraction was heavily mutual. From the first moment you walked inside the room, he felt an electric feeling in the air, the drumming of his heart and heat from his cheeks indicating that you were destined be his person. Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, but there was no denying that he knew that falling in love with you would be his inevitable fate sooner or later.

At first, you two would engage in casual greetings, both shy to begin a conversation. But soon enough, you quickly grew into friends, as you were all around the same age and linked well. A friendly conversation would lead to exchanging phone numbers and socials, to a hang out at the company cafeteria to a movie day at dorm, and to finally getting close enough to depend on eachother even outside your jobs. It was great having to know them, especially the man of your dreams, and you couldn’t be more grateful for this relationship even though your lovesick heart couldn’t help but hope for a little more.

there was no doubt that there was a spark that was ignited whenever you two would be together. The moment when you’d be fixing his hair and you’d catch him staring at you like he’s never been struck by anyone’s beauty so deeply. And when you reciprocated his gaze, you could swear you felt eachother sinking inside eachother’s vast ocean of an unknown emotion. There were so many moments where even the most innocent of touches- the brush of your fingertips against his cheek would turn into something undeniably intimate. The feel of your tender touch that causes his skin to heat up beneath it, the dilation of his glowing pupils and the slow panting of his rushed breaths at your closeness. Ofcourse, you felt the tension and temptation too, each part of your body wanting to grow closer and closer to his, as if you were a magnet feeling the unbreakable attraction towards the other lost pair. Doing his makeup would always be one hell of a prolonged session, with a battle to keep your wild heart from not escaping its ribcage, and your cheeks to not be flushed like a reflex action under his breaths. To keep your hands on him, without feeling the overwhelming need to trace his soft skin and watch him feeling awe under your trance, had to be one of the toughest wars ever known to mankind.

Ever so often, to silence the crazy butterflies that would storm inside your stomach like a typhoon at heeseung’s appearance, you would volunteer to style jungwon instead. Jungwon was your best friend in the group, the boy you connected to since day1, because everything about him matched so well with yours, it was as if you were meant to find eachother and become close friends one day. Being with him was the easiest and most fun for you, in the sense that you never could view him romantically or he didn’t do crazy things to your heart. Jungwon was calm, passionate and mature and made you laugh so hard that you were convinced he was your platonic soulmate.

If anything, heeseung appreciated your interaction with jungwon. He was delighted to see that you were getting along so well with his family. However, it wasn’t until that ocassion, where he was consumed by a sense of insecurity and fear that you might fall in love with his charming leadernim instead. It wasn’t until that ocassion where he realized why he was feeling jealous, where he realized how the universe wrote in bold fonts infront of him that you were surely the girl who bewitched his body and soul, indeed the girl he wanted to be with till the end of time.

It was the day of enha’s first comeback promotions and being assigned to pick heeseung’s look, you were (not so) peacefully doing his makeup. Although initially you were going to do jungwon’s hair, your mischievous best friend denied your offer and set you up to do your crush’s hair instead. He was being a horrible friend who knew what was the exciting tea, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t complain. Part of you felt amazingly overjoyed at the chance to be close to him again.

But………..

who would have thought that would be the last straw to your sanity? How you’ve voluntarily chosen to get your heart busted by almost kissing the man you had feelings for?

You were doing heeseung’s hair carefully when your leg accidentally hit the wheels of the chair he was seated in. His seat got pushed back abruptly and you were about to trip when he caught you with his large hands around your waist. Your knees almost sat on his lap with your hands desperately gripping the sides of the chair for balance but your lips? Oh god they were already on his.

Your senses travel back to reality when you feel the wetness of his plush lips under yours. Even though it happened momentarily, you could feel his mouth twitch under yours. The moment might have been unplanned, but you could see his Co-operation from the way his fingers brushed along the sides of your waist and his eyes remained shut. Embarrassed, you jolt your head up, breaking your few seconds kiss and stutter an apology before hurrying past the door. Luckily, no one had seen the scene except your best friend who was giggling at the drama outside, but you knew he wasn’t gonna break the news to a single soul.

Panting, you race outside to catch your breath. Even though it lasted for a few seconds-

Oh boy. He tasted sweet.

—————-

Two weeks have passed in the building with you running away whenever you saw heeseung. Taking a break from work whenever you had a day with him, saying you were sick. What other option did you have when you felt like you were literally gonna die if you saw him after the kiss?

“Y/n. You should face off with hyung and address the situation.” Jungwon suggests, sipping his drink and looking at you with a convincing expression.

“But wonie I-“ you blush, not being able to finish the sentence when flashbacks intrude your mind.

“See? You should do something about the situation. What if heeseung hyung likes you too? Then what?”

“…… ….”

“now don’t argue with me. Find a way to settle things tonight.”

—————

Like your best friend, jungwon had suggested, you decide to confess your love for him tonight. To create a suitable setting, you leave a note at heeseung’s desk that read.

“Do you mind walking me home tonight? I’d love to chat with you on the way back if that’s okay. Waiting outside at the entrance for you. -With love, from y/n”

When heeseung reads the folded note, initially his afraid heart thinks you left the note for jungwon since he was the one you went home with almost everyday and you didn’t leave a name. But overcome by his intuition, he grabs an umbrella from the bin as it was raining and makes his way outside to you. With the hope of settling his feelings with you once and for all tonight.

—————

“Hey! Were you waiting for a long time?” Heeseung asks in his gentle tone, the melodious voice making your head turn automatically at his direction.

Damn. He looked so unbelievably handsome tonight. In his black denim and slim, skinny fit jeans revealing his tall and toned legs. You gulp hard, soaking in the image before you continue.

“Ah no. Don’t worry. Let’s go, shall we?”

With the umbrella propped on top of your heads and your shoulders touching eachother and you take shelter together under the rain, you begin walking towards your house, feeling the tension and love radiating in the empty silence.

After walking a long distance and reaching a secluded area, hee clears his throat before he looks in your direction.

“Y/n. I’m sorry to have come in jungwon’s place. I know you were expecting him and I just-“

“Huh? What are you saying heeseung?” You look at him with wide eyes and a shy smile forms at the corner of your lips.

“It was you I wrote the note for. Cause..I wanted to spend time with..you.”

Your confession immediately causes his eyes to light up and his sentiments to blurt out. Cause no way in hell was he letting this golden opportunity slip by.

“Me too..you know. I always want to spend my time with you. I wait all day, just hoping to have a moment with you y/n.”

“….”

“Why?”

“Well. At first I thought I liked the idea of you. I liked being surrounded by you. But the more I spent my days with you..I realized I was inexplicably drawn to you in a way I couldn’t have anticipated before.”

Heeseung fully turns towards you and from the look he gives you next, you knew the words that are to come next, are the words you’ve been dying to hear ever since.

“I love you y/n. I fell in love with you from the first moment I saw you without realising it. I fell in love with you more when we were together. And..”

“I fell in love with you much deeper when we were apart.”

The words struck you like lightning, electrocuting every inch of your body and sending shivers down your spine. He was so honest and the look in his eyes was so tender and genuine, you couldn’t stop the goosebumps from arising on your skin.

“I love you..too heeseung.”

“You make me the happiest girl on earth.”

“And do you want me to show you how happy you make me feel?” Hee proposes, raising his eyebrows in a shy yet teasing manner.

The moment he feels your consensual nod, you’re overcome by way too many surreal feelings at once. In a second, feeling the umbrella being tossed aside, the cold splatter of rain on your skin, the pull of your body closer to his chest, the feel of his arms wrapped around your waist in a secure embrace and the plunging feeling of those lips glued to yours yet another time.

You part your lips slightly to give him access and when you do, you tremble from the hot sensation of his lips. Tucking his tongue inside your mouth, you get paralysed by his addicting taste, the sensation causing you to wrap your hands around his neck and pull him closer to intensify the desperate kiss. A kiss that was sloppy from desperation and need, but romantic and gentle from the love you both nurtured inside your heart for eachother. He brings his hand to cup your cheek and breaks away from your lips to stare inside your soul, and with a muted I love you he fumbles honestly, he’s back to dominating your heart, body, mind and soul with his intoxicating scent and honey-like sweet mouth once again.

—————-

you reach his dorm instead of your house, half an hour later. Both of you are drenched from kissing and making out in the rain, and it’s difficult to look at eachother when you’re THIS flushed.

“Let me get you a towel..baby.” He whispers the last word as silently as a whisper, and before you can react you feel a smiley hee exit the living room to get you something to dry off.

Heeseung returns with a towel and his hoodie, and when you’re dressed in his oversized garment as he returns from the bathroom with new clothes on, he takes your hands inside his gently and gestures you to take a seat on the couch. Like the loving gentleman he is, hee lovingly dries your hair with the towel while smiling admiringly at your beauty, the act causing you to chuckle shyly in turn.

When he’s done making sure you’re dry enough and comfortable, he throws the towel aside and pulls you on his lap. Brushing your thighs lightly with his feathery fingertips, he kisses your forehead before he confesses again.

“I’m glad to be the luckiest man on this earth to own your heart.”, he takes your one hand in between his, and pecks the back of it.

“You had it all along hee. You just realized it now.”

You playfully reply, brushing your nose with his in the process to earn a delightful chuckle from him.

Looking inside his deep, dark brown eyes again, you get sucked into his universe again, and from mad awe, you caress his jaw slightly from admiration. He was indeed an art. An art meant to be touched and appreciated.

“When everyone finds out about us. It’s not going to be easy y/n. It’s going to be really hard. And we’re going to have to work in this everyday, but I want that because I want you. I want all of you, us, forever, you and me.” Heeseung gasps in a reassuring way, driving away any fear that may surface in your mind, and smiles at you in a way that’s enough to calm the unpleasant storms inside you.

He leans his face closer to yours now, and you close your eyes waiting for him. But..1…2….3

“WELL BUT Y/N YOU WILL STILL LOVE ME MORE THAN HYUNG RIGHT?” Jungwon yells at you both, causing you both to jump from surprise and avert your eyes to the cute intruder who was teasingly pouting infront of the living room door.

“YAAH! Jungwon!! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO WITNESS OUR KISSING SCENES?” Heeseung displeasingly complains, clearly agitated at having his romantic scene ruined.

“But you will, right y/n?” Jungwon ignores his hyung to look at you.

“Ofcourse! It’s always best friend over boyfriend won.” You wink at him, a mischievous remark to tease your “boyfriend” Heeseung.

“Hey!!! What the hell?????”

“Just kidding!” You burst out laughing, now looking at the ticked off yet adorable expression of the cutie infront of you.

“I’ll leave you now. Bye bye, best friend who loves me the most.” Wonie waves, teasingly emphasising on the last part before going to his room and shutting the door behind him.

After he leaves and you’re back in your own world again, you see a pair of bambi eyes stare at you like a puppy and sore lips pouting at you in disbelief.

“You might want to make it up for what you did just now.”

“Ofcourse, I will.” You chuckle, pulling him by his neck and joining your mouth with his again. The sound of rain as your background, the beating of your hearts as your melody, and the feel of his body pressed to yours like you were always meant to be.

Indeed. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul; that makes us reach for more. That plants a fire in our hearts that can never be extinguished and brings peace to our restless minds.

———————————————-тнє єηԃ

🄰/🄽: 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 @heeseung-dazed ! 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 ♥︎ 𝗍𝗒𝗌𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.

(Hope you like the lil hee edit I attached to the title)

𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 here!

Masterlist

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Drunk! Task Force 141

When the boys are not on duty, they can go WILD on the base sometimes. They'd hoard bottles of beer and drink like there's no tomorrow, throwing a once in a year party of barbecue. They said it was for "Staying alive for another bloody year." They could go as crazy as they can, because Price is their CO, and who dares to mess with Price? None.

Now, when they're absolutely intoxicated, the boys become a different person than usual. Here's a few drunk 141 caught on camera :

Roach is a jackass normally. When he's DRUNK, he's the Crazy Drunk. His jackassery went up another level, even sometimes endangering himself at times.

Roach would ask his superiors to break a bottle on his head, opening a bottle of beer with his teeth, or jump from a window. Some people thought that he'll not die in the battlefield, but die on a drunk state. He's not named Roach for nothing.

Soap is the Angry Drunk.

You DO NOT want to get close to this man when he's drunk.

Mind your own business and walk away.

As the father figure of the force, Price has this caring personality, albeit a tough love one. However, when he's not sober, he'd become a very affectionate person. He'd ruffle his subordinate's hair, hug them in a big teddy bear hug, even kissing their cheeks.

However, his affection doesn't stop on his boys. Price would also careess and kiss his beloved weapons. Don't even TRY to take away his weapons when he's giving it tender love and care. Just let him be and you'll be safe.

Ghost still wears his mask when he drinks, only taking it up until his mouth to drink. That's why when he's drunk,

Nobody knows.

He's a secret drunk. Fortunately, unlike Soap, Ghost is a Happy Drunk. Contrasting to his usual cold and mean personality, other soldiers prefer his not so sober state.

Ghost become unusually nice and happy. He'd laugh at every little thing, finding it funny for no reason, sing with them while circling his arms around his mates, even cook a mean barbecue. He'd also prepare everything from the grill to the sauce, even serving it to everybody one by one.

Enjoy this version of Ghost while it lasts, because when he gets hungover on the next day, it will be hell.

--------

My first drawings since moving to the boarding house. Was bored during classes and I drew this! Hope you like it! ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

[tooweirdforyou]

How The OP Boys Say “I Love You” To Their S/O

How You Know He Loves You- idk man

A/N : enjoy.

includes » Ace, Sabo, Luffy, law, Sanji, Zoro, Marco, Rosinante, Kid, Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, Izo, Koby, Cavendish,

Summary : the boys’ own way of saying “I love you”, with their own words and ways. Or, how you know he loves you.

? Wait did I do this before? I don’t even know. also these aren’t GREAT, but they aren’t HORRIBLE. Yk? Honestly tho, some of these seem like they’re all over the place, which yes, they might be. UGH IT WAS SO HARD THO.

-

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy loves you like an adventure. Everything is new and always fun to try with him, and no matter what happens, you don’t ever regret it, because you’re doing it with him.

He’s persistent in staying with you everywhere, he wants to do everything with you. He tends to invite you ( by pulling your hand ) to do crazy things with him and away from the others so you’re alone.

He’s always showing off his skills and stupidity in order to make you laugh, because your smile is the best thing he’s ever seen and giggles are the beautiful sound he treasures.

His actions are genuine when he holds your hand and pulls you to his side all the time, with the warmest, loving grin.

Luffy always makes sure to remind you to never give up hope.

“Let’s go on an adventure together, [Name].”

-

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro loves you like you’re his one and only. No one has priority over you, ( except maybe Luffy ), and you will always be his, if you’ll let him.

Zoro is not a man of many words when it comes to his own emotions and feelings, so he shows it through his actions.

He always has an eye on you, so wherever you are is where he ‘sleeps’ so he can keep you close, his swords at his side to protect you from danger, ( but he knows you can handle yourself. )

Zoro is the perfect person to lend a comforting shoulder and ear. He will listen to every single one of your problems intently and if he can, will offer the best advice you’ll hear, even if it’s a bit harshly. However, whatever got you so down, Zoro will bring you back up.

Zoro is always reminding you that you are strong, no matter how tough things get.

“Oi, come take a nap with me. I could use a body pillow.”

-

Portgas D. Ace

Ace loves you like a gentleman, respecting boundaries, bowing to the elderly you pass by together and always ready to pick you up for your date at seven, bouquet of flowers in hand.

If Ace is good at anything, it’s knowing how to distract you with a good time. He knows the best way to bring a beautiful smile to your lips and can easily make sure to avoid the thoughts that brought you down in the first place.

He’ll share stories that will make you die of laughter or feel so wholesome that you literally melt at how sweet it is.

The few times he expresses and shares his insecurities to you, something he hides within him because he trusts you enough to do so. He loves your understanding and comfort for him.

Ace always reminds you that you’ll be okay, even at the worst times.

“You are the light of my life.”

-

Chief of Staff Sabo

Sabo loves you like a prince. He holds the door for you, takes your hand so you don’t fall, has the most charismatic smile on his face and is just so charming.

Sabo will remember the littlest things, the smallest details that you yourself don’t even know until he reminds you, and because of this, you are often gifted the most memorable and cherishing gifts, like the scarf you two bought for your perfect snowman, to the necklace you were staring a little too longingly at on display.

He’s always busy, but he doesn’t hesitate to drop whatever he has just for you. He will run through fire if it means you’ll stop crying or if you’ll be happy to see him. You are his lifeline, his soul, his love.

He may not know how to properly cheer you up like his brothers can, but he knows that he wants the best for you. If you need space, you got it. You need some tender loving cuddles and buckets of ice cream while watching Disney movies? Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?

Sabo reminds you that you deserve happiness and peace.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

-

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law loves you like you’re his savior, someone who’s always there during his time of need and insecurities, by his side when he needs you most.

He’s a little blunt and straightforward occasionally, but he’s honest somewhat. He won’t ever tell you his feelings until he deems it the right time, but you can tell he has feelings by the change in treatment.

He’ll keep you closer to him, making excuses by saying that he needs you to help him with the supply run, or that he needs your assistance with a particular menial task.

He’s awkward and shy about it at first but he cares and that’s all you need to know. Especially once you catch him during one of his weaker times, the anniversary of a particular someone rolling around, where he’s locked in his room. He needs you beside him, so please don’t leave him when he needs you.

Law reminds you that you are human, that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

“Just stay here with me.”

-

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji loves you like a god/goddess. He will treat you with the utmost respect and care and offers you everything you could possibly want or need, just say the word.

His genuine, endless daily compliments are given to you with pure love and passion, his daily refreshments and snacks to keep you energized and hydrated keeps an eye out for your health.

He makes sure you know the true meaning of flattery, chivalry and love, because that is all he can show you.

However, under that chivalrous exterior, is his calmer, understanding loving self, where he shows his true self and when he finally shares this side with you, where he holds his insecurities, it’s the true honor and love you can receive. And it’s even better, when you become the one who loves for him in return during this time.

Sanji reminds you that you deserve to be and are loved.

“You are my world, my everything.”

-

Marco The Phoenix

Marco loves you like a married couple who grew old together, still playing jokes and having fun to life’s fullest, no matter your age.

He’s constantly lecturing you for the smallest things repeatedly, since you always seem to forget. His lectures lack any annoyance or malice though, he’s just kind of done with you sometimes.

Nonetheless, he’s taking care of you more than you think, always the first one there whenever you need help. He’s always prepared for whatever you need so you don’t have to look for it and get worried.

He’s stern at times but he loves you more than you could ever know, often questioning himself whenever he’s beside you. He half-lidded eyes watching you with warmth and admiration because you always look so determined.

Marco always reminds you that you are free. To live life to its fullest and however you wish.

“Let me fly you to the moon.”

-

Donquixote Rosinante

Rosinante loves you like a husband, he treats you like his wife, either you or him welcoming each other home after being gone for so long and greeting each other with a loving kiss each time.

He knows just how tough things can be and as much as he tries to make things right, he knows how bad situations really are and no matter how much he wants to cry or get angry, he always holds a smile, in front of you. To assure you that things will be okay.

He gives the warmest hugs, and knows that, so whenever you’re angry or sad, or just randomly at times, Rosi envelops you into a large hug, waddling you back and forth a few times, you feel instant relief and content, which makes him smile.

His priority will always be you, even if he’s hundreds of thousands miles away, he will find his way back home to you. He surprises you with the littlest gifts; being flowers, jewelry, candles, or more.

Rosi will always remind you to smile, even during the hardest times.

“I will protect you.”

-

Eustass Kid

Kid loves you like a game, it’s unexpected, unpredictable of what will happen and it’s exciting and thrilling. For you both, one wrong move, and the other is gone for good, but perhaps, second chances/rematches are available.

He can be brash and a bit much, but Kid has high respect for anyone who actually makes it onto his crew and can actually tolerate him, you included.

He’s loud and wild but that only makes it part of the fun. With such a short fuse, as long as you play your cards right and pick your moments to bite back, it’s kind of fun knowing how dangerous it can be with a guy like Kid, and he also loves it equally, because your feistiness is attractive.

Being a bad bitch that doesn’t play by the rules is so incredibly attractive and Kid knows how to reward and punish so tread carefully. ;) however, he has his down moments and as annoying he can be, he does appreciate the effort you give if you try to comfort him. He’ll be harsh about it but eventually, he just wants you to be with him in the end.

Kid reminds you to rebel, take risks and enjoy the thrill of getting in dangerous situation every once in a while, breaking a few rules doesn’t hurt anybody. Most of the time.

“Don’t fucking ever leave me.. okay?”

-

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk loves you like you’re an empress, only the finest and highest quality for you, nothing else can compare.

Mihawk will buy you the most expensive dress that suits you, with an equally expensive matching jewelry to go with. Not to mention the heels, and, tch, how could he forget the roses you require? Despicable.

As much as he loves to show you off, he despises the stares of awe and admiration you receive whenever you go out, so his possessiveness takes over and he has an arm around your waist at all times, successfully showing you’re taken and to back off if they don’t wish to be cut into oblivion.

He trains you to handle yourself, obviously, you should know at least some basic skills. He’s not too hard on you but does push you to keep going until you truly wish to stop. It’s only because he’s worried that one day, he won’t be there and won’t be able to protect you.

Mihawk reminds you that you are a queen/king, a strong person who shall hold your ground and never back down from fear and show your bravery.

“Come here, mi amor.”

-

Red Haired Shanks

Shanks loves you like you’re his future. It’s an unknown journey, but he’s there for the ride and whatever may happen, he’s there staying and won’t be going anywhere, unless it’s with you.

The red head is a goofball, he drinks, parties and messes around but he is an incredible captain and genuine to a fault. So when he expresses kindness, it is purely from his heart and not out of manners.

He is extremely playful and yet when down to business, he is calm, collected, and cool. He knows just what to say in tough situations and great comforting advice, so he’s the one to go to when you’re feeling down. And as laid back as he is, disrespect to those he loves is the one shit he won’t take.

He’ll hold you close and with his signature grin, compliment you and tell you how much he appreciates you and as soon as someone lays a finger on you, his hand is on the hilt of the sword and he waits three seconds for an explanation before he cuts them down. No one messes with his beloved.

Shanks reminds you of loyalty. To always protect and care for those close to you, and keep that built up trust and bond you created with them.

“Trust me. I won’t let go of you.”

-

Charlotte Katakuri

Katakuri loves you like you’re glass, he’s careful, protective, cautious and treats you like you’re fragile, because he’s afraid of hurting you.

He’s larger than most, he’s aware of that, so he always takes the precautions to be aware of his surroundings, especially when you are around. He wants you safe and he will be devastated if he is the cause of your pain.

His large stature is a blessing to you though, because cuddling is so comfortable and comforting, it’s amazing. You can curl up and relax and just be at ease with him, because he’s so protective of you, even from his family members. He often keeps you away from Cracker and Perospero, in the slightest chance that they try to take you away from him.

He’ll be extremely heartbroken if Big Mom doesn’t approve of you, but his love for you is stronger, so he’ll keep it a secret if he has to but eventually, he’ll pray and wish for her blessing, asking the help of his siblings to convince her.

Katakuri reminds you of family, that even friends or crewmates are family and love you all the same.

“I will be here for you.”

-

Captain Koby

Koby loves you like a typical high school crush. He’s all shy and blushy, and evidently embarrassed when the pretty one at school is talking to him, ( that’s you. ).

He’s like the wallflower type, who tries to blend in but somehow, he sticks out in a way that lures you to him, like he’s hit the jackpot.

He is incredibly sweet, and his shyness is so adorable. You can’t help but coo whenever you see his red cheeks and soft smile of care he offers.

Always helps you with everything, will take the blame whenever you get in trouble, takes the suffering and pain when guys try to mess with you, and no matter how tough things get, he’s holding a brave face for you.

Koby reminds you of kindness, treat everyone with care and kindness, and it goes a long way.

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”

-

16th Division Commander Izo

Izo loves you like you’re a painting, he thinks you are true beauty, inside and out, you are a work of art, a true Mother Nature masterpiece born. One to be admired.

The type to be there. He’ll hold your hair while you vomit, rubbing soothing circles on your back while you cry, painting your nails while you complain about Ace, assure your perfection when you’re feeling insecure.

Best advice giver, holds no judgements at all. He’ll help with anything, because you need him. Romantic advice, friendship, sexual advice ;), he will help you any way he can.

He truly admires you, not because of your beauty, but your strength to be able to cry. Crying doesn’t mean weakness but rather, strength to be able to move forward even in the worst of times.

Izo reminds you that you are beautiful, no matter what anyone thinks or says.

“You are true beauty, my love.”

-

Cavendish Of The White Horse

Cavendish loves you like you’re a princess, and he is your handsome Prince Charming.

Every thing he does it like from a fairytale, if it involved a rather.. bit of a narcissistic Prince Charming. But he means well, because he still treats you like a real princess.

He gives you daily horseback rides, teaching you with his strong arms wrapped around yours and his black fancy hat on top of your head, as you two ride around and share laughs and memories.

And even through his big ego, he still makes sure to compliment you, tell you how proud he is of you and how much he truly admires you for your strong will and determination, because he really does love you. More than you know.

Cavendish reminds you that dreams can come true, sometimes it just takes a leap of faith and effort.

“I will treat you like the princess you are and deserve to be.”

-

A/N : 15 fucking people and having to think of different things while I’m distracted is so HARD. 😭 please tell me you enjoyed though ;-;

but did I do this already? God I can’t remember a thing, especially since I still haven’t updated my masterlists- and I’m terribly sorry if this really is all over the place ;-; also apologies if this is repetitive for some of them! It really is difficult yk ;-;

[prettyboykatsuki]

♡  bakugou headcanons that feel like a warm hug ♡

➳wc ;; 1.2k (oh my god. what is wrong w me.) 

➳ a/n ;; or my bakugou brain-rot that never goes away. thanks for being my comfort character, you fucking gremlin. forgive the silly title. 

♡ always makes little adjustments to the environment for you. he’s observant to a fault so if there’s something even a little off and it happens to bother you, he’s trying to work around it. 

♡ good at playing guitar but not good at reading music. he can throw something together if you give him a chance but he’s not good at trying to recreate someone elses memory. he’s not like.. musically gifted either but he likes how guitar sounds 

♡ thinks about getting a lot of piercings in his ear because he thinks they’d look cool but is kind of too nervous? the idea of a needle going through his skin is a ick. when you start dating, he drags you to his appointments lol - won’t admit it but he thinks he looks so hot when he gets them. takes a bunch of selfies <3 

♡ needs to be moving constantly. can’t sit completely still to save his life. when he listens to music, he moves his head. sometimes he just runs his thumb over his fingers. 

♡ really, really bad at talking. not in the sense he can’t communicate (that too) but he just likes listening in conversation. rarely adds his own thing. but when he does - always accidentally says something super meaningful 

♡ enjoys subtle physical touch because it is literally intimate he melts inside. a hand on his forearm or shoulder. your legs over his lap. small things that show how comfortable you are. 

♡ likes being held cause he’s a big ass baby lmfao 

♡ wont admit it but enjoy when you choose pretty or colorful bandages for his cuts he won’t himself but it’s like keeping you in his pocket wherever he goes.  

♡ really needs you to find him attractive dslksjk it’s not that he ever thinks he’s particularly ugly. but he didn’t really assign importance to his appearance at any point in his life, yet now he puts in a scary amount of effort. readjusts his hair so much more, makes sure his clothes fit good. fixes his fuckin’ face lol 

♡ likes chewing gum a lot and always has a pack on him. really proud of how big he can blow bubbles and will be a little sad if you’re unimpressed. 

♡ is overly sentimental about things you’ve made him - especially if it’s something super dumb. you drew him a silly little sketch of him in a frog hat? it’s in his wallet behind his id. freaks out when he thinks he’s lost his wallet 

♡ LOVES phone calls. yes he still hates talking. but the way his face looks when he listens to your voice. eyes half-lidded, shamelessly smiling - it’s so tender and so lovesick. 

♡ terrible first grader hand-writing. he tries to write them for you in the beginning of your relationship (to be romantic or some shit) but they’re so incomprehensible pls. if he focuses on it - it can be legible but most of the time ... yea no. 

♡ doesn’t favor tea or coffee but prefers tea if he has to drink one. 

♡ crazy good at eyeballing measurement. even in baking. once made a perfectly good bread without weighing anything and doesn’t get why that’s so wild. 

♡ has the phone on his text set to be bigger even though his eyes are fine. 

♡ lets you do the layout thing on his iphone and decorate as you please. says he doesn’t care but when he sees you made it hero themed/fit with his aesthetic - he got so red it was so cute. 

♡ hates shopping in store. will still always go with you because the one time you went alone a store clerk hit on you.  

♡ so practical. he started couponing when he was in his early twenties like an old man. checks the news and weather the night before, every night. never misses doctors appointments. 

♡ shit at any form of visual art. drawing, painting etc - cannot do it to save his life. but he tries. his hands shake when he tries to draw hearts for you 

♡ blows the eyelashes off your cheek super gently whenever he notices. he’ll like.. take your face in his hands and blow so softly like he’s gonna hurt you. 

♡ used to agree to make pinky promises with you as a joke. now though? automatically holds his pink out for you to take it. straight up pouts if you don’t. 

♡ you two have a song and when it comes on, he’ll sing it back to you. any other time? any other song? he wont. but he always sings your song even without realizing, just mouths it. 

♡ enjoys when you put your hands under his shirt and just leave them there and hug him like that. skin to skin contact is elite but only from you. 

♡ hamsters adore this man. they just do. 

♡ draws frowny faces on your eggs with hot-sauce 

♡ soul leaves his body when you play with his hair and scratch his scalp. the tension in his neck literally disappears and he just sighs that shit relaxes him like crazy 

♡ the first time he says i love you, you’re tying his tie for his first hero event. you’re telling him to that the color looks good on him and you’re smiling. it honestly it just slips. he went on to win an award that night. 

♡ his favorite memory of the two of you was when you were trying to leave the grocery store one afternoon. it was raining heavy as shit. you pulled him in under your clear umbrella and just stood there. he doesn’t know why but that means a lot to him. 

♡ cares a lot about his dads approval on his work specifically. him and his dad have a really specifc bond and he actually admires him quite a bit. 

♡ nothing makes him cry like “im proud of you”. especially when it’s for something small. it’s just something he didn’t hear enough in a sincere way. 

♡ likes fruit flavored sweets over chocolate (generally needs something to do w his mouth cause it helps him think. bad oral fixation) so he keeps little candies on him 

♡ shit at video games. terrible at them with the exception of mario kart? for some reason. 

♡ always loses his keys 

♡ stutters every!single!time! he tries to compliment you. it’s been YEARS. 

♡ takes a melatonin gummy before bed and always drinks a glass of water 

♡ buys you flowers and keeps them too. like does the upkeep on it and replaces them if the wilt. suggests pressing them to keep them for longer. 

♡ lowkey cries really easily. he just gets overwhelmed w his feelings some times and it makes him cry even if he doesn’t want too. you and the bakusquad are sworn to secrecy over it though 

♡ wears his ring around his neck on a chain bc it’s easier to show off. 

♡ naturally good at doing hair! 

♡ likes sneakers but wears dr. scholl's because he walks a lot and is on his feet for most of the day w his job. just being careful. 

♡ loves u a lot <3 

[titan-fodder]

Rating: E (explicit)

Count: 5.3k

Warnings: female-bodied reader, mentioned killings, general gang-related things, explicit sexual content, oral (M receiving), vomit, degradation, Kisaki is pretty mean, but reader is also kinda unhinged, intercourse, squirting, heavy heavy gunplay, filmed sex, conflicting feelings of love and murder, one (1) gun wound

A/N: This is part of Cummunity's Tender Taboos Collab. Definitely check out the full masterlist, but make sure you read all the warnings! This is probably the darkest thing I've personally ever written. I listened to Initiation by The Weeknd on repeat and I think it shows.

Tetta doesn't think you necessarily enjoy watching him torture and kill people, but he does know it interests you—arouses you. 

 Maybe it's about power. Maybe it's just morbid curiosity. Whatever the case, it never fails that when you get back to the base or his penthouse, you're touching all over him and soaking through the skimpy panties he bought you the previous week.

 He's not bothered by it. It just solidifies something that he's been coming to terms with for a while, and it's that you're a crazy fucking bitch. 

 And, he sort of loves it. Not that he'd ever admit it. 

 The girls that came before you were usually just bimbo bed-warmers, but you're something else entirely. A different breed of woman. 

 You like touching his guns just as much as you like touching his cock—sugar sweet with doe eyes that you use to get anything and everything you want whether it's jewelry or a Glock. 

 Top-of-the-line makeup, gemstone earrings, lingerie that have literal diamonds sewn into the fabric. Tetta says he buys it all to shut you up, but the truth is that he likes seeing you happy. He likes the way you prance around all done up, the way you bat your eyelashes and smile while murmuring, "Thank you, Tetta," like his name is a song. 

 All of that is only scratching the surface, though. You're almost bestial behind closed doors (and in public on occasion). Wild little thing, up to try everything at least once, you let Tetta fuck you however he wants, and that—having that kind of power over your body—is intoxicating. 

 He's drank the world's best scotch, snorted the cleanest cut cocaine, shot the purest heroin straight into his veins, but none of it compares to you. The way you can kiss him so tenderly only to turn around and bite his lip so hard it bleeds. The way you let him throw you around and come back begging for more. The way your pretty pussy blooms for him at the slightest touch.  

 He's fucking weak for it. Which is a problem of its own. 

 Tetta knows he's a heartless son of a bitch. That shouldn't be news to anyone, you least of all. So, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he's thought about killing you. He's had ample opportunities, when you're curled up in his arms, coming down from an orgasm. When he's got you pinned underneath him, helpless and wanton. Even when you're alone and singing in the shower, completely unaware of the way he's standing right outside the door with his gun cocked. 

 He can't bring himself to do it, though, and it makes Tetta sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he cares about you too much. He hasn't used the 'L' word for a very long time, not since her, but sometimes when he's strung out on bliss, and you've fallen asleep with your head on his chest, he considers whispering it. 

 And, that's when the urge to put a bullet in your head is the strongest. It races through his veins, makes him hot all over as he grows so angry with himself he can't even think straight. 

 How did he let this happen? How did allow himself to start feeling this way about another person? 

 It makes you a liability, and it makes him weak. Gives his enemies something to take from him. Tetta thinks he might burn the city down if anyone hurts you—other than him, of course. 

 He can live without his guards, without his echelon—doesn't trust half of them anyway. Can live without Hanma (would prefer to some days, honestly), but you… 

 You've become his Achilles heel, and he fucking hates you for it almost as much as he hates himself. 

 All these thoughts are currently absent from his brain, thank Christ, but it's only because they're being replaced by business talk and your mouth on his cock. 

 It's not a private affair. You're not hiding beneath his desk or anything modest like that. No, you're right between his legs where he sits on one of the plush couches, a few of his men across from him trying and failing to focus on the professional conversation, but once Tetta places a hand on the crown of your head to urge you further, four pairs of eyes immediately dart downward.

 "Hey, eyes up here, assholes," he snaps immediately, speaking loud enough to mostly cover the way you gag around him. "Don't look at what she's doing, look at me."

 "Sorry, boss, it's just that, you know—"

 "What I know is that I wanna get all this shit planned out for tomorrow, and I wanna get it planned out while getting my cock sucked. That a problem?" he asks with an arched eyebrow. 

 "No, no, course not," Hakkai shakes his head. "Sorry."

 "... acting like you've never gotten head before," Tetta murmurs, then transitions back, "Anyway."

 You are doing an exceptional fucking job, though. It's almost hard to keep a straight face as you lick up and down his shaft, pausing to suckle at his head before bobbing forward again, taking him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis. 

 Tetta has to take a deep breath to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head, pets your hair in unspoken praise, and when you swallow around him, his hips actually twitch. 

 This is the reason he brought you back to the penthouse in the first place. You'd seen him in Atsushi's club, recognized him, then flirted until Tetta was sufficiently flustered, hiding it with an easy arrogance. 

 He took you to a back room only he and a few others have access to, pushed you to your knees and fucked your throat, then lifted you back up and fucked you against the wall. 

 Immediately pussy drunk, he made a point to visit the club more often, searching for you until he found you, and after a few more desperate hook-ups, he caved and brought you to his apartment. That's when you became a little more honest with your interests and bedroom habits. 

 Tetta can still remember the way his back smarted for days from the claw marks you'd left him with. Remembers the way you'd begged him to choke you, the way you'd grinned when he did as if your every dream was being fulfilled. He remembers you tapping his hand to signal you needed to breathe, and he remembers not letting up. Your eyes had widened, a spark of fear in them, and then you came all over his cock. 

 There were finger-like marks around your neck for a while, a collar of bruises that was quickly replaced by high-end leather, a little heart dangling from a ring in the center with Tetta's initials carved into it. 

 He had it bad for you from the get-go. He had tried—is still trying—to explain it away as simple possessiveness, but that's simply not the case. 

 Yes, he wants to own you, and he wants everyone to know it, but there's a little voice in the back of his head that tells him that's not all there is to it. That he wants you to own him too.

 And, he thinks… he thinks you might be aware of it. 

 You'd recently gotten him a new watch (with his own god damn money). It's gold and shines in the light, the face of it outlined in tiny diamonds, and right on the clasp there's a small heart carved into the metal. 

 "Didn't wanna put my initials 'cause, you know, danger, but I thought a heart that matched this—" you tapped the charm on your collar and trailed off. 

 It was a smart move, and he told you as much, then smirked and questioned, "When have you ever cared about being in danger?" 

 You looked up at him through your lash extensions, lips settling into a pout.

 "I always care about it. Always think about it." You had paused, glancing down and playing with his hands then murmured, "I only want you to hurt me. You know that right?"

 It felt like there was a hand in Tetta's chest, squeezing and twisting, and he recalls a split second where he thought of grabbing the gun on the table next to him and blowing your brains out, but the urge was outweighed by the way you lifted your gaze to his again. 

 "I know, baby," he said, reaching forward to grip your chin, licking his lips when your eyes glazed over. "I won't let anyone else hurt you, okay?" 

 You nodded, and Tetta added, "And, if anyone does, I'll kill them," just for good measure. 

 It's not often you're that vulnerable with him, though you're looking a little pathetic right now, tears streaming down your face as you bob on his cock. You've been at it for a while now, but Tetta will be damned if he actually comes in front of his men. Just a few seconds of letting his guard down, of being lost in ecstasy, that's more than enough for a traitor to get the jump on him. 

 So, you'll remain on your knees until this meeting is over. 

 Whenever you start gagging too much, you pull back to lick up and down his cock, sucking pre from his tip, and rocking your hips into nothing when the taste hits your tongue. 

 You're getting desperate now, want something to fill that spoiled little princess cunt, and you'll get it. Just not right now. 

 Your own hand makes its way between your legs, and Tetta grunts in disapproval. He doesn't give a fuck if his guys see his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, but he does care about them getting the pleasure of watching you touch yourself. They don't deserve a show like that, aren't fucking worthy of it. 

 To distract you from your own need, Tetta pushes your head down, making you take him all at once until his tip hits the back of your throat. He sees the way your shoulders heave, body rolling, and you look up at him with blurry eyes in a panic. 

 He knows what just happened, has done it before, and he can feel the very slight burn of stomach acid on the sensitive skin of his cock. 

 You whine, trying to pull back probably so you can spit vomit onto the floor, but that's definitely not going to happen. Instead, Tetta keeps his hand firmly on the back of your head and commands, "Swallow," in a low voice. 

 More tears spill from your eyes as you shudder, but sure enough, your throat moves as you clean up your fucking mess. Tetta is simultaneously disgusted and aroused by the action, reminded of the unwavering power he has over you, all the sick shit you're willing to do for him. 

 He finally moves his hand, allowing you to pull off of him and cough. The bottom half of your face is a mess of tears and mucus and precum, and you let out a couple sobs before returning to his cock, arms shaking where they're braced on the floor. 

 Tetta should tell you to stop. Should give you a break. 

 But, how else is he supposed to clean his dick off right now? He's not just gonna get up and wipe himself down while his men wait for him. No, you're going to have to take care of it. Maybe then he'll let you go upstairs where you can shower and cry about him being, so mean, Tetta. You're so mean sometimes!

 He has to be, though. For his own good. 

 As if you can read his mind, you lap at his cock until you deem it okay to put back in his pants, then you're pushing yourself to your feet and skittering out of the room. Tetta watches you for a moment before turning back to the men across from him. 

 Smiley is the only one bold enough to say anything about it, and even then it's a simple, "Damn, boss."

 Tetta shrugs then gets back to business. 

 When he inevitably has to venture upstairs, Tetta does so with a glass of scotch in hand, gun tucked into the back of his pants as he prepares himself for whatever you've been stewing on as well as a few slaps to his chest. He can handle it, can incapacitate you in many ways, so he's not all that worried as he enters his large bedroom. 

 As expected, he finds you curled up under satin sheets, hair still wet from your shower, collar discarded on the nightstand, and you glare at him as soon as he steps into your line of sight. 

 "Oh, don't be like that, sweetness," Tetta tries, setting his gun next to the leather on the table and sitting down next to you. He isn't shocked when you scoot away from him just like you aren't shocked when he catches you by the arm and tugs you back close. You slide over the silken material easily, no friction to help you fight, but even if you could scramble off the mattress, you wouldn't. 

 There are other times you fight him, but that's more of a game than anything, one you know you can't win. 

 And, you know you can't win this time either, so even as you sniffle, you let Tetta pull you into his arms, cradling your head and back like the little crybaby you are. 

 "I don't like when you do stuff like that," you tell him, voice so quiet and honest it almost makes him feel bad. 

 "Thought you liked it rough," he tries to tease, but you aren't having any of it. 

 "Rough sex is one thing. Asphyxiating on my own fucking vomit is another," you snap, trying to sit up the rest of the way. 

 Tetta's grip is tight, one hand at your waist while the other curls into your hair, and he feels his temper spike. "Watch it. Don't be a fucking brat."

 "You made me swallow throw-up," you argue, struggling out of his hold and speaking to him in a tone he has not heard in a while. "In front of your men. It was gross. Made me feel like some kind of cheap whore." 

 Tetta is moving faster than you can track, pushing you onto the bed with a knee between your legs and fingers around your throat. 

 "What ever gave you the impression that you're not a cheap whore?" 

 Your eyes blaze in a way he's never seen before, filling with angry tears and fire. He watches as your jaw moves, cheeks going hollow for a moment, and he knows—fucking knows you're about to spit in his face, but before you can, he abandons your neck in favor of digging fingertips into flesh right in-between rows of teeth. 

 "Don't you fucking dare."

 You can't speak in this position, but oh, that glare sends a shiver down his spine. This expression, furious and volatile and wild reminds Tetta—

 Crazy. Fucking. Bitch. 

 "I'm going to let you go now," he tells you sternly, "And, if you try to spit at me again, I will fucking kill you right here, right now. Do you understand?”

 You can’t nod, but you don’t need to as you squirm beneath him. It takes Tetta a few seconds and a glance downward to realize you’re trying to grind against his thigh. You can be pissed all you want, doesn’t mean you don’t still want his cock.

 “You’re disgusting,” Tetta hisses, and he can feel the muscles in your face shift as you try to smile before letting go. 

 “And, you’re a dick,” you shoot back, stretching your jaw and frowning only for your lips to turn up at the corners. 

 Tetta stares at you for a moment, gears turning in his head because it is truly alarming how quickly your mood can shift–makes you unpredictable, makes you dangerous. 

 But, fuck if that isn’t one of the reasons he’s drawn to you. 

 “Yeah, but you knew that from day one,” he sighs, allowing you to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar, then pull him back down on top of you. 

 There’s no tenderness in your kiss. Your fingers quickly push Tetta’s hair out of its normally perfect style, nails scratching his scalp hard enough to make him hiss and bite your lip even harder. You squeal and wriggle, and both of you can taste blood as his incisors dig into flesh, but you’re still grinding down against his leg, wetness leaking from your pussy and through your useless thong. Sometimes he likes to degrade you for making a mess on his slacks, but today he has better ideas in mind.

 First thing’s first: Tetta pulls your lacy panties down and throws them over his shoulder, shoving two fingers into your already drenched pussy while unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock free from his pants. He’s hot and hard, the vein that travels the length of his shaft popping under his skin, and you move to touch him–of course you do–but Tetta bats your hand away carelessly, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt and humming appreciatively at the way you’re already wet enough to make that squelching sound he loves so much. 

 “What was that you were saying about not being a whore?” he asks through a satisfied smile, tapping the spot inside of you that already has squirt pooling in the palm of his hand. His thumb rubbing over your clit has you bucking and sucking on your bruised lip, but once Tetta plants a hand right between your hips, pressing you into the bed, there isn’t much you can do other than take what he gives you.

 And, you will. You always do.

 “‘m’not a whore,” you manage out. Tetta really must have struck a nerve with that one if you keep denying it like this. 

 “No? Then why’re you spreading your legs like one, hm?” 

 He pulls his hand back and situates himself into a better position, grabbing your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist as he sinks into you. Tetta groans while watching you arch toward him, mouth opening in a silent cry as he slides into your soft pussy until he can’t anymore.

 “Why do you take my cock so well if you–” he gives a couple of thrusts, grunting quietly in time with his hips, “–if you’re not filthy?”

 You tug him down for another rough kiss, probably don’t have a rebuttal for that one, but Tetta isn’t done, just keeps muttering against your lips.

 “Is it just ‘cause it feels good, baby? You like the way I fuck you?”

 You nod dumbly, legs falling from around him so that you can open yourself wider for him, and Tetta takes it as an invitation to fuck harder and faster until he sits back on his heels–still has his fucking dress shoes on–and pulls you up to meet his hips.

 At this angle he has a perfect view of your pussy and the way it just keeps sucking him in. Your cute little hole flutters and stretches, cream dripping from it and coating his cock, and your neglected clit is so puffy with arousal, sensitive enough to make you moan his name when he flicks it gently. 

 “Bet you’d let anyone slut you out like this,” his tone comes out mocking, making his own blood boil at the idea of another man touching you. "Take any cock offered just to feel full. That’s what it is, right? You’ve told me before–fill me up, Tetta,” he mimics your voice, “Want me to stretch this pussy out, leave you all fucked out and swollen for whoever’s next.”

 He’s pulling you onto his length mercilessly, eyes straying to your tits and how they bounce in the see-through top. You’re so fucking hot, so dirty and desperate and pathetic, and it’s Tetta who does this to you. It’s his cock you beg for, his cock you suck until you throw up, his cock your perfect cunt just keeps swallowing, fuck, fuck–

 He can talk down to you all he wants, make this all about you and your slutty pussy, but the truth is he’s just as bad, if not worse. Stoned off your scent, drunk off every orgasm he can pull from your writhing body. The way you pulse around his cock, squirting all over him, soaking the waistline of his slacks, all while panting his name over and over.

 Tetta lasts until he simply doesn’t want to anymore, until something else catches his eye, and then he’s fucking into you with enough force to make you dig your nails into his forearms. He knows you’re probably feeling raw, his cock stretching you uncomfortably now, so when he feels that burning in his gut, balls drawing up tight, he pulls out and uses two fingers to hold your folds open, exposing your loosened hole as he strokes himself to completion.

 Strings of white decorate your cunt like a god damn work of art, some dripping from your lips, some from the hole Tetta was aiming for. So pretty pushing it out, moaning at the sensation of his cum all over your sloppy pussy. Little fucking slut, you’re just a–

 Leaning forward, Tetta graces you with another kiss, this one filled with bliss and fatigue. You don’t even notice the way he reaches for his bedside table, fingers closing around the grip of his gun before he leans back again.

 It takes you a couple seconds to realize what he’s holding, all fuck drunk and stupid, but as soon as you recognize it, a breath of air leaves your lungs.

 “W–what’s that for?” you ask, eyes darting from the gun to Tetta’s face over and over again. You've seen him carry before, obviously, watched him shoot people right between the eyes, but typically when you're alone with Tetta and his weapon of choice, it's because he's teaching you to shoot or maybe showing off a new piece in an attempt to get you hot and bothered (which works like a charm every time). 

 This time is different, though, and you can feel it–the shift in the atmosphere, the prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You start to close your legs, probably want to move away from him or at least get into a less vulnerable position, but that would ruin everything, now wouldn’t it?

 Tetta doesn’t answer your question, just pushes your knees apart and counters with one of his own: “You’d do anything for me, right?”

 A grin slowly spreads across his face as you swallow thickly, eyes wider than before, and he knows your post-orgasm high is gone now. 

 “Yeah,” you nod, but he can still see the fear in your stare. 

 “Relax, baby,” he coos, voice going soft as he uses the barrel of his gun to trace the curve of your calf. “It’s not like I’m gonna shoot you or anything.” Yet.

 It’s playing in his mind, though, the way this could all end. Would he be relieved or regretful? Are you someone he’d murder then think about for years to come, or would he be able to forget about you?

 Strong hormone releases always leave Tetta feeling a little unsteady, a little unhinged. Anything could happen. It’s why more often than not tells you to get in the shower after you fuck. Leave him alone so he can get his thoughts back in order.

 But, tonight he doesn’t want you leaving him. He wants to keep you close, remind you just who it is you’ve involved yourself with, and he thinks a good way to cover both those bases is by watching you cry while he fucks you with his gun.

 Perfectly reasonable.

 “Promise I’ll be gentle,” he says, not sure if he’s telling the truth. The way you tremble makes him shiver, but that’s all you do. You don’t try to argue or fight, just gasp when you feel cold metal against your folds. 

 “S–safety’s on?” you ask, and fuck, you’re really going to let him do this without complaint. It brings up the question of pleasure versus curiosity. Just what is it that makes you think something this twisted is okay?

 Tetta checks and finds that the safety definitely is not on, but considering he’s undecided on whether or not he wants to rid himself of you, he simply lies, “Of course it’s on.”

 “Okay, just… Gentle.”

 “I promised I would be,” he reminds you, parting your folds then teasing your entrance with the barrel before carefully pushing forward.

 You let out a little noise of discomfort, squeezing your eyes shut while spreading your legs wider as if that’ll help any. Tetta gives a few very shallow thrusts, eyeing the glossy sheen you’ve already left, and he wonders if this will ruin his gun. He has others, but… could be another reason to kill you.

 It’s the perfect time, honestly. And, doing it in such a depraved way would just be the cherry on top. He can easily imagine pulling the trigger, watching a bullet tear through some other part of your body–it all depends on the angle, really–and if the first shot doesn’t kill you, he can just keep trying. 

 What would his men think? Obviously, Tetta wouldn’t be the one to clean this up. That’s below him. Hanma would probably laugh, sick fuck that he is. Hakkai might get woozy. Takemichi would more than likely tear up at the sight. 

 But why, Kisaki? they’d ask. We thought you liked her.

 He does. That’s the entire fucking problem.

 Tetta pushes into you a little further, transfixed by the way you open up for cold metal the same way you open up for cock, and even though he just came, his dick twitches at the sight. 

 You sit up on your elbows, looking down at yourself and gasping like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Honestly, Tetta can’t fully grasp it either. He’s got his loaded gun stuffed snug in your sopping cunt. All it would take is for him to pull back on the trigger. 

 “Can you… Can you take a video of it?” 

 Tetta nearly gets whiplash from the way his head shoots up, eyes wide in surprise even though he shouldn’t be shocked. You’ve more or less gotten off to the image of him killing people. Why wouldn’t you be into gunplay? Especially when you’re not smart enough to make sure you're actually safe because you’re not. You are so far from safe, in fact, it’s making Tetta’s hand shake. 

 All he does is slip his phone from his pocket, unlocking it then tapping on the camera icon. He makes sure to get a good shot of your face first, your big blinks and dumbstruck expression, lingering on the way you lick your lips before you fall back onto the mattress and sigh.

 From there, Tetta moves his phone down your body, eventually stopping where he needs to and focusing the lens on your pussy. You take more and more of the sleek barrel with every thrust, abused cunt opening up for the new intrusion as if it belongs there.

 Maybe it does. Maybe this is the culmination of everything. It’s fitting, he thinks, might even be the way a freak like you wants to go out. Maybe he’d actually be doing you a favor. If he ends up casting you away like all the other women, you could end up in worse hands than his. Tetta has been described as heartless many times, but he’s never hurt you out of cruelty, and he’s always, always cared about your pleasure (and your pain). The same can't be said for others in the same line of business. 

 “That feel good, baby?” Tetta speaks for the first time in minutes. “Like getting fucked by my gun?”

 You only nod, jaw having dropped open some time ago. 

 “Does it fill this pussy up the way you like?”

 “Mm, it’s different,” you admit in a breathy voice. “Not comfortable exactly, but–oh–sexy.”

 You’ve toed a dangerous line ever since Tetta met you, pressing your luck by pressing his buttons, and maybe he’s finally had enough.

 He’s just… never had someone idolize him the way you do, someone who trusts him like this, willing to put themselves at his mercy.

 “You know how easy it’d be to kill you right now?” he tests, watching to see if your expression turns fearful again.

 But, all you do is answer, “I know,” then lift your hips to take the gun deeper. 

 Tetta ends the video there, too worked up to hold the phone straight anymore. His finger is on the trigger ready to pull, just a quick motion and it’ll all be over, no more wrestling with his feelings, no more making himself sick over the idea of someone hurting you. He could end it all right here, right now. 

 Instead, when he opens his mouth, he asks you, “Think you can come like this?” and as if to encourage you, he toys with your clit. 

 “I–I think so. If you keep going slow and playing with–fuck, yes–”

 You don’t have to finish the thought. Tetta pauses to wet two fingers then uses them both to rub your clit, sometimes sliding down to gently massage the tender flesh stretched around his gun. You’re still dripping with his cum, but new slick is also leaking from you, and he almost laughs because it’s so fucking absurd to be so turned on by this, but here you are, legs shaking, hips rocking, pleas falling from your quivering lips as Tetta flicks your clit and pumps the weapon in and out of your cunt, gradually picking up speed as you begin to coil in on yourself, hitting that euphoric peak and then falling off of it.

 You moan a chorus–oh, god, oh, god, oh, god–while Tetta fucks you through it, his own thought process similarly stunted and rhythmic.

 Pull the trigger, pull the trigger, pull it.

 His jaw slides, teeth bared as he stares down at your splayed body, and this is it. This is perfect. This is the time–

 He can’t. 

 Tetta cannot bring himself to do it, and for that, he’s disappointed in himself. 

 Sinking further onto his knees and into the bedding, Tetta sighs and pulls the gun from you, reaching up to push hair back from where it’s fallen into his face. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why can’t he just–

 Footsteps approach the bedroom, gait unfamiliar, and Tetta doesn’t think twice before aiming and shooting as soon as he can see a vague outline of them.

 “Fuck–shit–you fucking shot me!” 

 Just Hanma. Probably drunk judging by his clumsy steps. Unfortunate, but– “Should’ve told me you were coming,” Tetta shrugs.

 “I texted you! Jesus Christ, ahh–”

 He stumbles into the room, dropping to the ground and clutching his arm to his chest.

 “You’re bleeding on my carpet,” Tetta tsks, finally moving from the bed and gesturing for you to close your legs.

 When he glances at your face, though, he sees one of those deer-in-the-headlights expressions, nothing but shock and fear and cluelessness.

 “What?” Tetta asks you.

 You gape at him for a second, looking at the gun still in his hand, then at Hanma still swearing, and then where he’d just been sitting.

 “Was that locked and fucking loaded this whole god damn time?”

 Tetta sucks his teeth and wipes the wet barrel on his pants while nodding. “Yeah, it was. I should probably teach you more about gun safety.”

 Your voice is shrill and a little irritating when you shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” rolling so that you’re sitting up on your knees now.

 Smirking, Tetta chuckles and steps over to you. You’re a mess, hair sticking up in the back, bra pulled down enough to show off pretty, pebbled nipples, thighs covered in your own arousal. 

 After setting his gun down, Tetta takes your face in both hands, stroking over your cheeks with calloused thumbs as he answers, “So much, baby. So, so much.”

 Hanma is still groaning in pain where he sits on the ground, but it’s easy enough to tune out as Tetta bends just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. You search his face for some kind of clue as to what the fuck is going on, but you won’t find anything there except for wide, adoring eyes and a half-deranged smile. 

  You’re stuck with him now. You don’t know it yet, but you’ll find out eventually. 

[seollenda]

Hello! I was wondering if you could take a HC/ABOverse request with Mamamoo!Alpha x Reader!Omega where member and reader have been dating for a few months and reader asks her alpha if she would like to spend her heat with her for the first time since dating? Just wonder how each member would reply to that and how they’d fair around reader during a heat. Could be NSFW. 😉

oooohoo thank u for the prompt anon xxx nsfw under the cut

solar/yongsun:

yong would be surprised even though it was pretty obvious you two were crazy about each other/it was going to be a deep domestic relationship from the beginning

super excited but also very serious about getting it right

is just as stressed/attentive about the non-sexy parts of managing your heat as the mating part

speaking of, she’d be kinda shocked at how hard it hits her when the time comes, she’s never felt so intensely attracted to anyone before

she’s always been a bit of a domme but she finds herself really enjoying herself with you

she grows to really enjoy spending your heat together, is just the best companion in every sense of the word

moonbyul/byulyi:

was just waiting for the day you’d ask

starts crying when you ask her (much to your bewilderment)

gets genuinely anxious about taking care of you until you have to be the one to reassure her that it’ll be ok

nervous wreck until you ask for her that first night and then suddenly everything falls in place for her and it all makes sense

mating is tender and careful and to your needs, aftercare is just as loving

she’s always wanted kids but she really gets starry eyed during pillow talk now

wheein:

is so excited, for every step of it all

showering you with gifts and food and whatever else she thinks you’d need, helps you nest

~high tension~ as in keeps the party going and also…

sex is great with her already so heat sex is kinda wild

let’s herself get greedy, especially at your request for more alpha out of her

wheepup is just the cutest and sweetest even when she lets herself go

hwasa/hyejin:

is shy when you express you want her to spend it with you, but of course says yes

realises she’s not really sure what it means but in typical hyejinie fashion she just jumps into it

is just the sweetest softest girl about it and about keeping you taken care of and fed

her domesticity really comes out, honestly your heat pheromones brings out the caregiver in her just as much as the mating instinct

not to say mating with her isn’t great….because it is

she’s always known what you like in bed and is excited to find you’re even more responsive now, encourages her to get even more into it and enjoy herself even more