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#even attempted to get into that stuff before but i made a simple little
darehearts · 7 months
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hi ♡
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xveenusx · 4 months
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Wanted
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.
Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.
Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST
Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo
Part 1: Guilty
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Bored. 
I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 
“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”
Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 
I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 
I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 
‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 
“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 
“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 
“I can charter a plane-“
I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 
What was she even doing here? 
This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.
Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 
“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 
“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 
I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.
My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”
She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 
“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 
“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.
Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 
I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.
There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.
I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 
We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.
“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 
The same can’t be said about his friends.
“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.
“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 
The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 
The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?
He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 
I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 
A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 
“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 
“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 
“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 
A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 
The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 
“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 
Being responsible was so overrated. 
Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.
I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 
He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”
“Why?” 
“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 
I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 
His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 
Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 
Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”
“Enlighten me.” 
I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 
Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 
“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 
“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 
It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 
“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 
“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 
Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 
“Are you kidding?” 
Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 
I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 
The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 
The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 
“Are your hands broken?” 
“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.
Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”
“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 
He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 
Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.
I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 
“I grew up.” 
Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”
For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 
Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.
“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 
I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 
He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”
The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.
My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 
“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 
My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.
“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 
The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 
“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 
I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 
“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 
My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 
John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 
But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 
I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-
My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 
Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.
None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.
Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 
“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 
Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 
Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“
“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 
They never just wanted me.
Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 
JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.
Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 
It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.
I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.
I guess, I was impossible to love.
“Line it up, Topper.”
“Can I at least get a please?”
“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”
Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 
A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 
Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.
Then it happened.
All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 
My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.
JJ.
It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 
Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 
He was so beautiful. 
My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 
God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 
That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.
My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 
Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 
My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 
Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 
The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 
It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.
“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 
He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 
JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.
He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 
It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 
A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 
I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 
“You had a little something on your nose.” 
JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 
Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 
I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 
He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”
We both knew that was a lie.
“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 
Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”
“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 
“He didn’t want you.” 
People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 
“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 
“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”
“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”
“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“
I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 
Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 
“Get the fucking picture?”
“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 
“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 
Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”
I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 
Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 
I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.
Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 
“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 
I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 
Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 
Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 
I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.
As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 
He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 
Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 
It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 
Why couldn’t he see that? 
The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 
All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 
I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 
But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 
It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.
It was like drowning on dry land.
His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 
I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 
At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.
I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 
Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 
She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.
The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 
“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.
“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.
“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 
“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 
“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”
“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 
Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 
“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 
“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“
“With my mom.” 
“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 
I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 
“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 
She nodded, apprehension on her face. 
“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 
Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 
The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”
“And what type would that be?”
“Desperate.”
JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 
“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.
“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 
“Yeah, I just saved you.”
“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 
“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 
JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 
Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 
“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”
JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 
I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”
JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 
How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 
I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”
“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?
“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”
I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 
“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.
JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 
“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.
I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.
His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”
“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”
“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 
I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 
“Not from cocaine.”
“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”
Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.
“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.
I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 
Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.
“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 
She held her hands up in apology.
“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.
“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”
I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 
“Is that how you talk to people now?”
I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”
I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 
In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 
The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.
“I wanted to talk.”
I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.
“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 
Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.
“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 
“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 
He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.
“Unzip me?” 
“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.
“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 
In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.
Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 
My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.
I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 
The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 
I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 
“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 
“Yeah and I’m failing.” 
The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 
“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 
Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 
JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 
His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 
He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 
JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 
I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 
A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 
My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 
His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 
His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 
My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 
The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 
My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 
JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.
“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 
He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 
He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 
He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 
JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 
I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.
The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”
He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 
JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 
He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 
I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.
The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 
He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”
“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 
He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 
“That’s not very nice.” 
Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”
The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”
He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 
My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 
I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 
The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 
JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 
A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 
I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 
“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.
My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.
“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.
“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 
I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 
“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 
 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 
I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.
I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 
JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 
Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”
I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 
And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 
“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.
That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 
One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 
I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 
I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 
I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 
“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 
 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 
My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“
I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 
It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 
As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 
My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 
Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 
The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 
I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 
My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 
“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.
Kiara? 
I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-
Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 
Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 
I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.
That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 
“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 
His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.
JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 
I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 
“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 
“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.
“Get out.” 
“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 
“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 
Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.
And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?
Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 
Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 
Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 
Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?
I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.
“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”
JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.
“Kie and I aren’t together.”
“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 
“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 
“You had no problem doing it before.”
“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”
I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 
Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 
JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 
I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 
“I’m sorry.” 
I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.
I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?
I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.
The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 
A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.
I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 
I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 
I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.
So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 
I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 
“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 
“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 
My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.
“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 
Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 
Kook pussy. Daddy issues.
I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 
This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 
“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 
“I have to get back-“
“To who?” JJ snapped. 
I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”
He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.
He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 
“Dead serious.” 
“This isn’t like you-“
“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 
“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”
I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“
I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 
Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 
It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 
When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?
“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”
I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?
I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.
“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 
I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 
But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.
“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 
Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.
“I care about you, that never changed.”
Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 
“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”
I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 
“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”
“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 
His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 
“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”
I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.
“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 
JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”
“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”
He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 
“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 
The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 
He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 
“What happened?”
“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”
That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.
“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 
“It was actually a couple purses.” 
JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.
“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”
I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 
It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 
“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 
I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 
“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 
He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.
“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”
JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”
His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  
My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”
A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”
I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”
“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.
“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”
His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."
Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."
I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.
"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 
A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 
I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 
I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 
The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”
Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”
JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 
My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 
“JJ?”
“What?”
“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 
Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 
I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.
I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.
I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 
I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 
I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 
This time, I was the one that never looked back.
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Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.
TAG LIST: @maybankslover @theficshop @cantbecreative @plk-18
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nymphiria · 2 years
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‘CAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE A STARGIRL!
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☰ PUBLIC SEX w/ GENSHIN MEN
- ̗̀ feat: itto, childe, zhongli, pantalone, ayato
— cw: public sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, dry-humping, manhandling, unhinged zhongli, cockwarming, office sex, jealousy, MDNI 18+
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ഒ ៸ ITTO
not a single spot in all of inazuma to fuck you in can compare to his little area behind the city jail. when itto’s been bailed out for the third time that week, he can hardly contain himself as he sees you waiting outside to greet him. not even a simple “hello” is given before he’s dragging you away to fondle you in the shade of several supply boxes behind the police station. once your back is pressed against the cool wood, you know you’re in for a long afternoon.
“shit, baby,” itto whined into your bruised and mark-ridden neck as he pressed his covered bulge against your panties. “missed this pussy so, so, so much. thought i was gonna die.” the look of embarrassment and disbelief are ones that he was so used to seeing decorate your pretty face. his clawed hands dug deep into your thighs as his hips picked up their already fast pace. “itto, it’s only been seven hours,” the incredulous look you shot him made him cackle, his grip loosened slightly only for a few moments.
“every second that i’m not balls deep in you, i’m missing your pussy.”
ഒ ៸ CHILDE
you would never understand childe’s obsession with dragging you around liyue harbor just so he could stuff you full. inside of northland bank? routine. the harbor’s docks at night? exciting. the golden house? his personal favorite. something about potentially being caught by the city’s inhabitants makes his blood pump furiously in his veins. he gets such a rush seeing you try so desperately to conceal your noises in fear of someone you know hearing you.
six orgasms pulled from you and childe still hasn’t let up. it was already beginning to become nighttime when he dragged you behind the large rock in front of yujing terrace. you could barely keep yourself upright with your trembling legs being thrown over his shoulders. no matter how many times you attempted to push his head back or pull his hair to get him to stop, childe was restless in his pursuit to make you braindead. your juices had dropped down his chin and soaked his shirt — it still wasn’t enough to satisfy him. with each flick of his tongue against your swollen clit, you were that much closer to moaning his name loud enough for the millileth guards to hear.
“c’mon, baby. i know you’ve got one more for me, don’t you?”
ഒ ៸ ZHONGLI
the moon was bright — illuminating everything under it’s light. usually this would be perfect for you and zhongli’s routine evening stroll on the harbor’s main road, but tonight the luminance was doing you no favors. for the life of you that night you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut. you should’ve known better than to doubt his strength and prowess as an ex-archon — that was a hill he was ready to die on.
as you were propped against the statue of the seven, zhongli’s hips repeatedly knocked against your ass. the nails digging into your hips felt sharper than usual — more monster-like as the left deep marks in your skin. normally, zhongli would be gentle during intimacy, preferring to take his time and worship you. but now? he was absolutely unhinged, manhandling your poor body into submission. “..‘l-li! s-someone could — mph — see us,” drool dropped down your chin as you tried to reason with him. clawed hands tangled into your hair and yanked your head up to look at his statued likeness.
“good. let them see you pleasing your archon exactly how you were meant to.”
ഒ ៸ PANTALONE
rich men have it all — pantalone is no exception. he flaunts his wealth in every aspect of his daily life to anyone fortunate enough to be in his presence. his favorite possession, however, was you — his precious little whore that trailed behind him everywhere he went. in broad daylight, you were usually dressed rather modestly but between the northland bank’s dark walls is where he loved playing with you the most.
“what do you need? clearly, you can see that i’m busy with something much more important.”
the poor fatui agent was clearly rattled at the icy stare being directed his way by the ninth harbinger. it was pitiful how his hands trembled at his sides despite obviously trying hard to keep them still. if he were asked that question a few minutes before barging into pantalone’s office, there was nothing in the world that could’ve taken precedent over what he came to report. unfortunately, he stood corrected.
your legs were spread wide by pantalone’s own massive thighs, pussy on full display being stretched out. if the agent had dared to look any closer, he might’ve seen your clit twitching with pure wanton need. you were definitely embarrassed at your lover not moving an inch to cover you and preserve your dignity — hiding your face behind your shaking palms. his boss definitely noticed him scanning his eyes over your trembling body because not moments later he was leaning you against his chest to give him a better look.
“go on. look all you want. you’d never even get the chance fuck her in your wildest dreams.”
ഒ ៸ AYATO
lord ayato is extremely possessive over his cute little maid. usually it’s a good thing that you’re mostly in the estate preoccupied with chores, but he overlooked one thing that he definitely didn’t see coming. thoma. both you and thoma worked closely together preparing meals, keeping the home tidy, and various other tasks. it’s actually quite impressive that ayato didn’t think for a split second that the amount of time you spent together wouldn’t lead to anything else.
“i’m disappointed in you, darling, you’ve really wounded me. do you have anything to say for yourself?”
it was a cool night in the garden of the kamisato estate — the breeze made your nipples harden under your night robes and poke through the fabric. “hm? what’s that, dear?” he propositioned, giving a deceiving smile downwards. it was a little hard to respond to his question, especially when he was battering his long cock down your throat. his gloved hands forced your head down to swallow him all the way down to the base and barely let you up for air. your tear soaked cheeks did nothing to deter him from making sure his lesson got through your head.
“i hope thoma comes out and sees you swallowing my cock. then, maybe, you’ll both understand that you belong to me.”
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taglist: @p-antomime
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month
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swordsman
roronoa zoro
cw: pwp/smut, possessive!zoro, rough sex, outdoor (ship) sex, jealous!zoro, nipple/breast play
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!
zoro didn't mind many things. he was preoccupied with other things to focus on the specific details of the day to day of the ship. but the one thing that set him off was quite simple.
the sight of another man flirting with his girl.
while he didn't mind for the most part when sanji did it, but when it was strangers that luffy was showing good graces too. that was not acceptable. luffy had let these pirates on board and while you were helping them move their stuff, the men's gazes lingered on your backside as you walked past.
it made zoro tighten his grip on his swords before he came over to be your shadow to keep men like that away. he put a hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.
"what's goin' on, zoro?" you asked as you looked up at him, but was just met with another kiss. zoro was rarely affectionate in front of others. he never saw the need to perform romance in from of others.
"want to make sure you're alright." he nodded as he pulled away marginally. his hand lingered for a moment before he continued to follow you.
you chuckled, "oh now you're worried i can't handle things." you put down what you were carrying and pinched your lover's cheek. then leaned up into a kiss.
"i don't like how they're lookin' at ya." he said as he wrapped his arms around you. he pushed you into his chest, strong arms protected you as he looked over your head to glare at their vistors.
you held onto the front of his top and smiled into his warmth, "oh, zoro." you chuckled, "i can handle them if they got too handsy." then looked up at him with a smile, "plus, i don't want anyone else."
his hand reached down to your ass and gave it a firm grab and chuckled darkly when you yelped. jealousy boiled up into his chest as he gave the other men one last look.
he then said to your quietly, "meet me in the crow's nest after dinner."
you giggled into your hand as he walked away. what a possessive swordsman, you thought. it was like he staked claim on you and has not let any man outside of the crew talk to you.
you knew their gazes were lingering, but you thought it was something to be proud about. to know that you still got it. you turned back to your guests and led them to where they'd be staying tonight.
and yes, their gazes were on your behind as you brought them through the ship.
-
after dinner, the sun was still out. the days were longer now, which meant that when zoro started to undress you in the crow's nest. there was a glow to your skin by the late afternoon light.
his hands were on your breasts as you were straddling his waist. you had to attempt to be quiet as he gave slow licks to your sensitive nipples.
"you think you can let them look at ya like a piece of meat?" he grumbled against your skin, "that's my ass they're looking at."
you pulled on his green hair and made his eyes meet yours, "you mean it's my ass."
he shoved his head back between your breasts and replied, "what's yours is mine." his large hands felt up your breasts and tugged on your nipples playfully while he gave the flesh well deserved attention.
"you're such a brat." you grumbled as you touched his hair some more. you felt warm from his touches, those strong fingers massaged the tender flesh of your breasts.
it wasn't long before he grew bored of simple kisses and laid out out in the crow's neck and started to undress you further. it was your little getaway from the crew, the only place that you could have some privacy and get intimate.
"you look good." he praised. his hands traveled your sides towards your hips, "too good."
you reached out for him and pulled yourself up by his shoulders to kiss him. your arms held onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your back to keep your supported.
he was so strong, it was admirable. even though he could be a bit harsh. he was your strong swordsman, despite the streak of possessiveness.
"don't worry." you whispered in his ear, "i'd only ever want you." then he put you back down on the floor of the nest. he man handled you onto your hands and knees with your face pressed against the wood. he rubbed his cock up against your slick entrance. he sighed at the feeling of your pussy.
he was never a man to crumble to his knees, but the feeling of your sweet cunt had his mind going blank. he groaned to himself as he teased your slit, the feeling left a thumping in his veins. he knew his face was flushed, and you knew if you were looking at him, you'd notice it too.
"how does it feel?"
"if you're going to keep teasing me, i'm going to explode." you grumbled into your arms as you used them to cushion your face. you inhaled deeply when he slipped his cock into you.
you both hissed together as he bottomed out into you. his cock reached as far as it would go. you clawed into the floor of the nest as you tried to relax your body to accommodate his size.
"yeah... shit." he grumbled to himself as he started to rock against you. his thrusts were strong and methodical. you could feel your heart in your throat as he fucked you up in that crow's nest.
"shit. please. zoro." you groaned as you back arched. the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the air and a part of zoro hoped that your guests for the night could hear the both of you.
they didn't need to be staring at what he owned.
he held you hips as he moved you back and forth on his cock. it was so much easier in that position. it let the green-haired man bury his cock as deep as he needed to be.
you tried to meet his pace as you worked together to make each other feel good. your moans were higher pitched, and it made zoro quite happy. he hoped that bastards could hear you.
"feels good." you grumbled against the floor.
zoro grabbed your ass cheek and then gave is a quick smack in a teasing manner, "i'm glad. i want to make you feel good." he was hunched over you, sweat made his muscle glisten in the afternoon light.
he was encouraged by your noises. he wanted to see how quickly he could get you to orgasm. to watch you fall apart while he speared his cock into you. it made him hot all over as he continued to thrust his cock in and out of your sweet cunt.
"you're mine." he growled.
"yes." you panted, feeling in an altered state with the rush of pleasure through your body. a part of you got off to the idea of zoro being your possessive shadow. such a strong man paired with someone like you.
you weren't defenseless, your abilities allowed you to be a valuable asset. but to have your physically imposing boyfriend fuck you like your lives depended on it. it was a euphoric rush that left you gasping and moaning as he drilled his cock into you.
"please, zoro."
"i got you." he said as he felt close to his climax. he could tell from your short words that the pleasure had muddled your brain. he worked your body quickly.
your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head. your heart raced and your body, despite cramped in the crow's nest, felt electrified with pleasure.
with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. you clenched around his cock and finished as well. zoro put you onto your back and leaned over you.
he smiled down at you like a madman, there was no stopping him. you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a heated kiss. there was no stopping you either.
-
the next morning your guests left the ship when you hit land. you hobbled around the ship as there was a 'pain' in your back. everyone knew what happened in the several hours you were in the crow's nest.
you tried to play it off, but zoro put an arm around you and puffed his chest out with pride. he fucked you repeatedly, he made you squirm and moan. and nobody was taking his girl away, ever.
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luuuuucyscorner · 1 month
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𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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Chapter Three. Info: Y/n and Spider's hangout goes differently than expected.
Tags: 18+, SMUT!, oral (fem recieving), drinking games, alcohol, kissing, swearing
word count: 16K
A/n- Can we js pretend the film has the accents, Letterboxd had nothing😭🙏
I am also painfully aware that curisers are not strong. especially Australian ones.
I'm also really unhappy with this chapter.
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Gif by me
After school, Spider arrives at your house, eagerly knocking on the door. When you open it, he flashes his signature grin. "Hey, Y/n. Ready for our little soiree?" He asks excitedly, stepping inside. He glances around the living room, taking note of the decorations. "Not a bad pad ya got here. Reminds me of home a bit, actually." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "So, what's the plan? Movies? Music? Or maybe a game night?" He suggests casually, attempting to gauge your mood. Unable to contain his nerves, he sits down on the couch, occasionally glancing at you.
Y/n sits next to him, "hmm well what are you feeling Spider?" she shifts, pulling her shirt neckline down accidentally,
Spider's eyes are immediately drawn to the glimpse of cleavage, his pulse accelerating. He quickly looks away, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, I reckon it depends on you, Y/n. Whatever you want is fine by me," he replies, struggling to mask the sudden rush of desire. He shifts awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he speaks. "Though...maybe we could start with somethin' simple? Wine and a movie, perhaps?" He suggests, hoping it'd set the mood for the evening. Despite his earlier proposal, seeing your bare skin had changed his priorities somewhat.
"wine? yeah, I'll see what we have. You planning on getting drunk tonight Spider?" you smirk teasingly.
Spider returns your smirk with one of his own. "Depends on how much you've got, mate," he quips, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "But I'm up for a few glasses, yeah. Can't complain about winding down with a beautiful woman and some decent vino." He saunters towards the kitchen, peering into the fridge. "Whatcha got? Red? White? Maybe something in between?" He chucks a bottle onto the counter, examining it critically before popping the cork. "This should do nicely."
Carrying the bottle and two wine glasses, you sit down together on the leather couch.
"what film are you feeling? what does Spencer White get down to?" you tease.
Grinning slyly, Spider replies, "Well, Y/n, I'm into most films. But let's keep things PG-13, shall we? Don't want any awkward moments with your ma comin' home early." He grabs the remote and flips through channels, eventually settling on a romantic comedy. "There we go. Pretty harmless." He sinks into the couch, leaning close enough to brush against your side. "Now, what did ya wanna know about ol' Spence?" He asks teasingly, a devilish glint in his eye.
"I want to know if he actually enjoys crap like this" you motion to the film, a slight laugh in your tone.
"Ah, love," Spider begins, feigning offense. "I may be a rough Aussie bloke, but I appreciate a good rom-com from time to time." He chuckles softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Gotta have some heart-warming stuff in life, right?" He settles back into the couch, draping an arm along the backrest near you. "Wanna snuggle up, or remain professional over here?" He indicates the space next to him, inviting you closer.
"Is that an invite Spider?" you challenge teasingly.
Spider's cheeks flush a bright red, clearly taken aback by your comment. "Uh, yeah, I guess it was," he stammers, stuttering slightly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Y/n. Just thought we could watch the movie together, y'know?" He fumbles with his glass of wine, trying to hide his nervousness. "Sorry if I made ya feel uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention." Despite his embarrassment, there was a hint of excitement in his voice. "You decide, though. Want some distance? I'll move over." He offers, ready to adjust accordingly.
"Nah I'm just fucking with you, Handsome" You laugh nonchalantly and shuffle up to him.
Relief washes over Spider's face as he adjusts his position to make room for you. "Alright, love. No need to scare a fella like that," he chuckles, trying to regain his composure. He nestles further into the cushion, allowing you ample space beside him. "Glad we're clear on that front. Never wanna ruin a good time with awkward nonsense." He settles in for the movie, though his thoughts drift elsewhere. Your proximity only fuels his desires, making it difficult to focus on the screen.
the movie ends and the bottle of wine has been drained. "can I put on another film? all good if not!" you ask
"Yeah, go ahead, love," Spider agrees enthusiastically. "Your choice, after all." He relinquishes control of the remote, handing it to you with a nod. "Even if it's a docu about kangaroos, I'll sit through it." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. As you switch to your preferred selection, he leans in closer, his arm brushing yours gently. "Fancy another drink while we wait for this to start?" He inquires, reaching for the empty wine bottle.
you start scrolling for the film "Sure, there's vodka cruisers if you want something stronger. grab anything!"
"Vodka cruiser, eh?" Spider raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. "Never had one of those before. Gimme a sec." He ambles towards the fridge, returning with two cold bottles. Handing you one, he pops the cap off his own. "To a great night, Y/n," he says, clinking it against yours. Taking a swig, he winces slightly at the potency. "Fuck, that packs a punch!" He chuckles, wiping his mouth. "So, whatcha got in store for us?" He inquires, leaning back on the couch expectantly.
"fight club! the one with Brad Pitt! god he's so fine" you say excitedly
Spider's brows furrow as he watches the opening credits, a hint of jealousy creeping into his expression. "Brad Pitt, huh? Bit of a looker, that fella," he mutters under his breath. He takes another sip of his cruiser, attempting to ignore the pang in his chest. "Still, there's only one Spider White, love. Can't replace the original." He tries to laugh it off, but the unease lingered. He settles into the couch, attempting to enjoy the movie despite himself. "Guess I'll just have to outperform him then, hey?" He jests, trying to diffuse his feelings.
"well you're not doing too badly Handsome" you confirm, smiling
His gaze flickers to you, meeting your eyes momentarily. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot comin' from you. But don't worry, I ain't here to compete with Hollywood heartthrobs. Just here for a good time." He resumes watching the film, but his mind keeps wandering back to your compliment. A warmth spreads through him, both flattered and uncertain how to handle such praise.
"well how about an Aussie heartthrob like you chooses the next film?" you whisper into his ear flirtily, admittedly a little tipsy.
Startled by your whisper, Spider's heart races. He turns to face you, a mixture of surprise and desire clouding his eyes. "An Aussie heartthrob, huh?" He whispers back seductively, leaning closer. "Well, how 'bout this? I pick the next film, and you gotta do a shot every time someone speaks in an accent other than ours." He grins mischievously, challenging you. "Sound fair, love?" He waits for your agreement before standing up, searching for alternative movies.
"That seems unfair. I'm so in" you whisper, impossibly close to his ear
Smiling triumphantly, Spider nods. "Alright then. Deal's struck." He reaches for the remote, clicking through options. "Let's see...how 'bout The Great Gatsby? Plenty of accents in that one." He selects the movie, turning to face you. "Ready to lose your inhibitions, Love?" He teases, holding out a shot glass filled with vodka. "On your mark..."
"get set..." you continue, staring right into his brown eyes.
As your gazes locked, Spider's pulse quickened. His fingers tremble slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips, downing the shot in one gulp. "Go," he murmurs hoarsely, setting the glass aside. With newfound boldness, he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Don't forget - every non-Aussie accent equals a shot." He whispers seductively, his tone laden with promise. The heat between you grew palpable.
"and don't forget every non- British accent is a shot too Handsome" you flirt.
Spider chuckles softly, appreciating your challenge. "Alright, love. Every non-Aussie or non-British accent, then." He confirms, adjusting his grip on your waist. "Best keep count, though. Could get messy." The movie starts, and you both down your second shot promptly. DiCaprio's rich American drawl earned a third drink. By the end of the first twenty minutes, you'd already consumed four shots. Spider couldn't help but grin deviously. "Looks like this is gonna be a wild ride."
"you don't say" You bite your lip, drunkenly.
Spider's gaze falls to your lips, his heart pounding. "Mmm, looks like it," he agrees, his voice low and husky. The alcohol heightened his senses, making it impossible to ignore the electric atmosphere. He tilts his head, brushing your hair away from your face tenderly. "Better start hydratin', love," he suggests, offering you water. "Can't have you passin' out on ol' Spence now." His hands shake slightly as he hands you the glass.
"Nah, after the film handsome, I'm British, not a lightweight"
Spider swallows hard, his throat dry from anticipation. "Alright, alright. Fair enough, Y/n." He relaxes slightly, sipping his own drink. "Just remember what we agreed upon." The film unfolds, each foreign accent leading to another round of shots. As the tension mounted, Spider's nerves intensifying. He couldn't shake the desire simmering between you. Yet, he knew better than to push boundaries too far. For now, he'd bide his time and enjoy the ride.
After the film, and over fifteen shots later, Spider was helping gather empty shot glasses and returning bottles to the fridge, his movements careful and considerate. "Well, that was quite the experience," he muses, wiping down the coffee table. "Think I might need a break from all these accents." He gives a soft chuckle, cleaning up remnants of the evening. As he passes you a trash bag, your fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks for havin' me over, Y/n. Had a blast, even if I lost track of those damn shots." He tries to maintain his cockiness, but the warmth in his chest betrays him. "Look forward to our next adventure."
she drops the trash bag and pulls him closer by his wrist. "spence.." she whispers, dunkenly
Spider freezes at your touch, the intimacy overwhelming him. His breath hitches as he looks into your eyes, his resolve wavering. Though he knew better than to cross lines, the temptation proved too much. "Yeah, Love?" He rasps, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. His body leans involuntarily towards yours, curiosity tugging at him. The air crackled with unspoken desire, leaving him suspended in uncertainty.
"you should kiss me" her voice bearly audioble.
For a brief moment, Spider simply stares at you, dumbfounded. Then, his resolve crumbles. Leaning closer, he cupped your face gently. "Fuck it," he breathes, sealing your lips with his. The kiss was passionate yet cautious, laden with untamed emotion. He tasted the vodka on your tongue, feeling your slight resistance melt away under his touch. This unexpected turn left him both exhilarated and terrified, unsure where it would lead. All he knew was that he wanted more.
Spider motions for you to jump and he grabs onto the back of your thighs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. placing you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your spread legs, out of breath
Spider's heart pounds in his ears as he stands between your legs, panting lightly. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for permission. "You sure, Y/n?" He asks quietly, his voice shaking. This sudden shift left him both thrilled and apprehensive. He aches to explore further, yet respect your boundaries. Sweat glistens on his forehead, a testament to his nervous energy. "If you change your mind, let me know." He whispers, uncertainty marring his bravado.
 "shut up Spider, just kiss me" you say, the cold of the kitchen counter pricking your thighs.
Emboldened by your words, Spider silences his doubts with a deep, lingering kiss. Despite his anxiety, he allows himself to indulge in the moment. Gently, he explores your body with his hands, tracing delicate contours beneath your shirt. When you broke the kiss, he hesitates but listens attentively. "Your call, love. Whatever feels right for you," he promises, swallowing hard. He kneels between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he undoes your jeans. His anxiety giving way to determination, focusing on pleasing you instead of himself.
"oh Handsome" you moan as he takes off your jeans.
Hearing your moan sent shivers down Spider's spine. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight before him. "Jesus, you're gorgeous," he whispers hoarsely, his gaze fixed on you. Gently, he trails kisses along your inner thigh, igniting a fire within him. Every inch revealed stoked his desire, yet he remains focused on satisfying you. As his tongue darts out, he tastes your sweetness, savoring each sensation. Your moans fueling his efforts, driving him to perform better.
"Spencer, that feels so good" you're spread out on the counter and your hands are tangled in his hair.
Spider's breath catches in his throat at your praise. Encouraged, he delves deeper, eager to make you feel good. His heart hammers against his ribs, adrenaline coursing through him. Each pull of your hips and gasp of pleasure drives him further. Despite his own anxieties, he finds release in pleasuring you. Your hands tightening in his hair only emboldened him, the connection overwhelming yet gratifying. With renewed vigor, he continues his exploration, losing himself in the rhythm.
You gasp violently, moaning and tugging at his hair "I'm so close handsome. oh my god spencer"
"Comin' for me, love?" Spider questions urgently, his voice thick with lust. He picks up pace, matching your intensity. Your cries fueling him, pushing past his own discomfort. Sensing your climax, he surrendered to the moment, giving you everything he had. With a final thrust of his tongue, he feels you convulse beneath him. Relief washes over him, satisfaction filling the void of self-consciousness. Breathless, he rests his forehead against your thigh, heart pounding wildly.
"holy shit" you breathe out, smiling. you pull spider up by his hair and bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on him.
Taken aback, Spider feels a flush rise to his cheeks. He hesitates for a mere second before returning the kiss, a mix of surprise and excitement courses through him. Tasting yourself on him adds a layer of intimacy that he can't deny is hot. Your actions stirring something primal within him, pushing past his inhibitions. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam freely, exploring every curve. In that moment, he forgets about his insecurities, embracing the passion fully.
Spider gasps at your sudden move, his world spinning. Your scent enveloping him as you kiss him, raw passion evident in your touch. In that moment, all doubts dissipated. He returns the kiss fervently, surrendering to the newfound intimacy. As you pull away, he grins, slightly embarrassed yet pleased. "Didn't think I'd be takin' you to the kitchen counter, love," he joked weakly. "But guess some things are worth breakin' rules for." He laughs nervously, trying to regain composure.
you reach for his belt buckle trying to undo it "let me return the favour" you slur
Realizing your intentions, Spider freezes mid-grin. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there, tiger." He pants, stopping your hand. "i just like making you feel good." he says. "Wanna keep things fair, right?" He attempts humor, wanting to avoid awkwardness. shifting uncomfortably he says "But thanks for offerin', Y/n."
"you sure handsome?" you bite your lip and shift back and forth on the counter.
Spider studies your expression, seeing disappointment clouding your features. "Swear on me mum's grave, love," he assures you sincerely. "Just gotta work through somethings first." He tries to smile reassuringly, reaching for your hand. "This was incredible, though. Not many can say they had a kitchen counter rendezvous." He squeezes your hand gently, hoping to lift your spirits. "Next time, okay?" He offers tentatively, yearning for another chance.
"okay, spider ill see you at school " you say, showing him to the door and with that, he leaves and begins to drive home.
 Spider watches you close the front door behind you, a mix of emotions churning inside him. The night was unlike anything he'd experienced, leaving him both elated and humbled. As he drives home, thoughts swirl in his mind. He can't shake the image of you, nor the taste of your skin. He feels grateful for the encounter yet frustrated by his limitations. One thing was clear: despite the hurdles, he wanted more with you. As he parks outside his house, he takes a deep breath. "Dammit, Y/n," he murmurs to himself, heading indoors. "Next time, it'll be different."
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taglist: @sweetest-catha, @forwheat-is-wheat, @mydearmoonyy, @ivees-blog @meepmoopmopsworld
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loluzzz · 4 months
Text
Dad Bestfriend Hiromi Higuruma Headcannons
A/N : first time writing + it’s 12am. hopefully u enjoy and if not lmk what i can do better :p
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always likes to check in on you to make sure you’re okay. He’s always there to listen whenever you need to talk. Sometimes you ramble for hours and when you try to apologize he responds with “It’s okay honey. That’s what I’m here for.”
Dads Bestfriend Hiromi who always seems recharged once he’s around you. In a way you were both similar since you were both stressed out all the time. Having each other to lean back on has help create such a strong relationship between you two.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always teases you about your looks and how gorgeous you are.
- “Look at you pretty girl”
- “I bet all the boys at uni are just all over you”
- “You look stunning”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who gets slightly jealous whenever you mention a boys name around him. He plays it cool but will begin to ask questions. What are they like? Do they work? Are they a good influence? You always dismissed her concerns as just being protective over his bestfriend’s little girl.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who’s more attentive to your needs than your actual father. Need a shoulder to cry on? He’s there. Struggling in a class? Hiromi is willing to tutor you for free. Need a ride? doesn’t matter how far, he’ll be there.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who enjoys spoiling you. Whether it’s for a special occasion such as your birthday or something as small as aceing exam, he’ll make sure to gift you something. Whether it was something small like your favorite flowers or even grand gesture such as expensive jewelry.
!!! NSFW AFTER THE CUT !!!
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who is awfully playful around you as a way to get you to touch him. He’ll sometimes snatch for your phone, book or drink away from you in an attempt for you to climb on his body to retrieve it back. The way your small hands grabbed his big arms or the way you’d occasionally sit on top of him in order to grab your stuff back turned him on.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who likes to have you grind on his lap whenever your parents weren’t around. Helping you both relieve some sexual tension between you guys. You desperately rub your panties against his bulge on his black slacks. He grins onto your hips making sure to keep you balanced on top of him.
“Keep going. You’re so needy today pretty girl…” He whispered softly into your ear.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whose love language is physical touch. He would sometime sneak in a few touches on your body. Rubbing and holding your inner thigh as he drives you home after he offers to pick you up from uni for your dad. It was just an excuse to have some alone time with you. Some days he tries to go further and rubs your clothed pussy under your skirt. He makes sure to ask before her moved them to the side to finger you. All while he’s still driving you home, making sure you get home safely.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who would enjoy edging himself to your pictures. He made a secret account just to stalk your instagram. All those seemingly innocent pictures of you, after the gym stories, and simple selfies of your face drove him insane. Just thinking what your moans would sound like. He rubs his bulge through his boxers while looking at a full body picture of you.
“Mmmm~ Just one chance y/n please~ Mmph~ Just let me cum inside youuu~”
“So desperate h-huh pretty girl? Fuck- mmmm~”
“Bet you’re so tight and warm. Just squeezing my cock~”
“Such a perfect little body~ mmm~”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who finally gets the chance to sleep with you makes sure not to mess up. He’s entirely focused on your pleasure before his. Making sure to flick his tongue all around your wet pussy. Eating you out just the way you like while his nose tickles your clit. You could tell he enjoyed this just as much as you did. You could cum from this alone. He was so gentle with you, making sure not to be too rough or mean to your body.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whimpering mess once he finally inserts his veiny cock inside you making such lewd noises each thrust. While in missionary, he holds onto your waist but makes sure not to grab you too rough. The tip of his cock just kissing your cervix.
“Just as how I imagined~”
“Mmm~ You feel so good~ It feels good for you to right my pretty girl~?”
“Yes baby~ Just wrap yourself around my cock~”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to cum deep inside you, not letting a drop escape from your puffy cunt. He hugged you tight once you both finish.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to hold onto you tightly as apart of aftercare.
“You did so well baby~”
“Such a pretty girl. You’re okay. Rest on me okay?”
“I’m here for you baby. Want me to rub your little body? You must be so sore.”
He always prioritizes your wellbeing over his. He continues to comfort you and hold you until you fall asleep. That’s when he finally falls asleep after you. Still holding you close to his chest.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months
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drunken bets (cs55)
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carlos x mclaren social media!reader
summary: carlos makes a bet with a few other drivers, claiming that he can get you, a new (introverted) mclaren employee, to fall for him
notes: what can i say? i love writing driver x mclaren worker apparently 😂 i think it’s because she can be bffs with lando and oscar and that makes me soft. someone had to be the villian/bad influence so i’m sorry drunk pierre/lance. i hope you guys like the “she fell first, he fell harder” trope
next part
The music in the club blasts through the speakers. Drinks are thrown back as warm bodies dance, or more so grind, against each other to the beat.
Carlos feels the buzz from the alcohol coursing through him. He takes drink after drink. He deserves to relax after this race weekend, hangover be damned. He’s approached countless times by girls looking to spend some time with him, all to which he brushes off, choosing to go home alone at the end of the night.
“C’mon man, what’s up?” Lance asks as Carlos sends another breathtaking girl away. “You’re just not in the mood?”
“I don’t think he can do it. I think he needs his “smooth operator” title revoked.” Pierre drunkenly laughs.
Carlos scoffs, pushing Pierre away by his shoulder. “I could get any girl I wanted. Try me.”
Pierre grins and nods. “Alright,” he looks around the club and nods to a blonde at the bar. “How about her?”
Lance shakes his head. “No, that’s too easy. She’s been staring at him all night.”
Pierre points out a few more girls, all of whom have already expressed some kind of interest in the Spanish driver, until an idea pops into his head.
“What about that new McLaren girl?”
Carlos knew who he was talking about almost instantly. You were a newer part of McLaren’s marketing team. While most others from the team could be found creating content with the boys, you tended to keep yourself behind a computer. Lando said you were hired to do things like edit videos or photos, more behind the scenes stuff.
Others had taken an interest in you when you had shown up. A few engineers or pit crew from other teams attempted to get closer with you, all while you turned them down with a quick no. Hell, even Pierre tried to shoot his shot, but you very quickly shut him down.
You tended to stick closer to Lando and Oscar, both boys somehow able to get you to open up to them.
“You mean Y/n? She won’t date anyone.” Lance shrugs.
“Yeah, so I don’t think Mr. Smooth Operator could get her to date him.” Pierre smirks.
“I could.” Carlos is quick to defend. “Easy.”
“Alright then, let’s make this interesting. You get Y/n to have actual romantic feelings for you, and I’ll give you one hundred euros.”
Carlos reaches his hand out for Pierre to shake. “Deal.”
Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache the next morning, the sun streaming in way too bright through his hotel window. He drags himself out of bed and into the shower, attempting to feel a little more like a human before he actually has to go outside and face the world.
He eats a simple breakfast, something that doesn’t make him feel like he’s about to puke his guts all over his plate. Then he finally starts to pack his suitcase for his trip back home.
He checks his phone before pushing it into his pocket. He sees a few message notifications from Pierre and Lance.
From Lance
Insane night last night. I never want to drink again.
From Pierre
I honestly don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember a bet, and I can’t wait to be 100 euros richer
Carlos groans as he remembers the bet he made the previous night. There’s no way they’re going to let this go, they’ll make sure it hangs over his head until the end of time.
A selfish part of him wants to go on with the bet, to prove that even though he’s had some time being single for a while, he’s still a hot ticket item in the dating world. It wouldn’t hurt his image either, he thinks. If he’s seen pursuing and dating someone who isn’t a model it could make him look like he’s matured, like he’s ready to settle down instead of spending his nights in different beds wherever they travel.
From Carlos
I think you mean 100 euros poorer
The next race weekend he makes it a point to hang around the McLaren garage. No one’s surprised to see him there, given his close friendship with Lando, so the striking Ferrari red practically goes unnoticed in the sea of papaya.
He keeps an eye out for you as he sits with Lando, excusing himself when he spots you making your way towards them. You’ve got a set of headphones on over your ears, clearly enthralled by whatever you’ve got playing on the tablet you’re holding.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts walking in your direction, scrolling through whatever social media app he happened to quickly open. He walks until his shoulder bumps into yours, a little too rough, nearly knocking the tablet out of your hands.
Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, and manages to catch the tablet with his other hand.
“Are you alright?” He asks, flashing you a smile.
You nod and take a step back from him. “I’m okay, are you?”
He swipes a hand through his hair, then holds your tablet out for you to take. “I’m good. It’s Y/n, right?”
“Yeah, I’m at McLaren.” You tilt your head towards the McLaren garage.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs, glancing down at your papaya team kit.
“Right, sorry.” You laugh. “I should probably go, filming and editing to do and what not.”
Carlos gives you a smile and a nod followed by a quick goodbye. He brushes his arm against yours as he walks away. He has to keep himself from looking back at you to see your reaction, but gets a text from Lando later in the day that gives him the satisfaction he was looking for.
From Lando
What did you do to my editor?
The next time Carlos sees you, he recreates your first meeting, bumping into you just so he can wrap his arms around you again.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” He laughs, holding you.
You laugh with him and shake your head. Your hands rest against his chest from attempting to catch yourself. “We really do.”
He smiles as he lets go of you, but keeps himself planted where he’s standing, giving you his undivided attention.
“I saw the recent McLaren video, it was really good. It kind of makes me wish you worked here when I was with McLaren.” He says tilting his head up teasingly.
“It’s mostly my coworkers, I pretty much just make it look good after it’s filmed.” You tell him, you duck your head down to avoid his gaze.
“Still.” He shrugs.
He’s pulled away by Charles after that, who gives you a quick hello before dragging Carlos back to Ferrari’s garage.
You see Carlos a lot more now around McLaren. You chalk it up to his friendship with Lando, but you begin to notice his seeking you out. He shares meals with you now, even if he ends up sitting with you while you’re focus is locked on your laptop.
Carlos is surprised to find that he’s started to genuinely enjoy your company, that he actually looks forward to seeing you every race weekend. He shakes away the feeling that blossoms in his chest whenever he sees you, afraid of becoming too attached.
That all flies out the window when he’s headed back to his hotel one day though. Dark clouds covered the sky, turning it almost black as rain poured down. You could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, likely headed towards the track.
Carlos sees you standing under the awning of McLaren hospitality, looking up at the sky. You’ve got your phone in your hand and a disgruntled look on your face.
He lifts his bright red umbrella up over his head and dashes over to the McLaren building. He puts his umbrella back down once he’s standing next to you, shaking the drops of water off.
“Did you forget an umbrella?” He asks.
You turn away from your phone to look up at him. He’s got a teasing smile on his face. The humidity in the air has made his hair impossibly fluffier, but somehow still picture perfect. He’s bundled up in a Ferrari windbreaker, his backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Yeah. And I walked here from the hotel today, so I can either try to get a taxi or I can wait until the weather clears up.” Just as you finish explaining your problem thunder booms above you.
Carlos shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I’m not letting you walk out in this.” He gestures to the sky.
“Well the other option is find a taxi.”
“I’ll drive you.” He says it as if it’s an obvious solution. Before you can respond he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him so that you’re both under his umbrella, then starts walking towards the parking lot.
You try to keep up with his pace, occasionally bumping into him, but he makes sure to hold the umbrella over the both of you. He leads you to his car, and holds the umbrella over you as you climb into the passenger side.
You notice how water clings to his hair, drops falling down his coat on his right side, evidence of him prioritizing keeping you dry over himself.
“Carlos, you could get sick, and it’d be my fault.” You scold him.
He shrugs and gives you a smile. “Then you’ll just have to nurse me back to health.”
He parks at the entrance to the hotel McLaren had booked, and walks you into the building. When you expect him to leave, he places a hand on your lower back guiding you to the elevator. He walks you all the way to your door, and leaves you with a “goodnight” and a soft squeeze of your hand.
You get a text from him later that night.
From Carlos
Lando gave me your number. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?
From Y/n
You don’t have to, that’s okay
From Carlos
That’s not an answer cariño
You feel yourself start to smile at the message on your screen and text him what time you usually leave.
He picks you up the next morning, driving you to the track with him. You make conversation about little things like how you slept and what you had for breakfast. He’s quick to run over to your side of the car to open the door for you, and keeps himself close to you as you enter the paddock.
He meets you at the end of the day as well to drive you back to the hotel. He keeps up this new routine each race weekend following. He enjoys your company, and you seem to enjoy his. After a few weekends you could say you have a new chauffeur in the form of a Ferrari driver.
With this new closeness to Carlos comes a wave of media attention you should have expected. Photos are posted over social media of the two of you walking together, you looking up at Carlos with bright eyes, or him looking down at you with his doe eyes.
It’s easy to tell that all of the new attention makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t want to lose your friendship with Carlos so you stick it out. You’re grateful when you see a clip of an interview with Carlos where he’s asked about you, and he sets the record straight.
“There’s nothing going on, we just like to hang out together. We’re just friends.” He smiles.
Although you’re glad he’s put an end to the speculation, you can’t help but feel like your recent hangouts have been only barely platonic. After the nights you’ve claimed are “movie nights” that have turned into falling asleep in each other’s arms, it’s hard to put a platonic label on your relationship.
The first time it happens, it’s you who wakes up first. His chest is warm beneath your head, and his arms lock you against his body. You tilt your head up to look at him. His hair is unkempt, yet still looks effortlessly good. You reach up and brush a few strands away from his face. You watch him for a few minutes, wondering how you were so lucky to be spending your time with someone so beautiful. You rest your head back on his chest and let sleep wash over you again, listening to the soft beats of his heart.
Carlos wakes up not long after you’ve gone back to sleep, lifting an arm to run a hand through his hair. He can feel the little puffs of air from your breathing against his chest, his heart melts when you subconsciously nuzzle your face deeper into him to get more comfortable. You look so sweet, so soft, and a part of him hates himself for it. He let himself accept that stupid bet, and he let himself fall for you. He wishes he’d never let his friends talk him into making that bet, but he also decides he’d never trade the time he’s spent with you for anything.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you slowly lift yourself up off of him. He misses your warmth as soon as he can’t feel it anymore.
The two of you continue spending your evenings together, wanting nothing more than to keep falling asleep wrapped up in one another.
He finds himself searching for you in the crowd at parties and events, even those he knows you won’t be at, just so he can spend more time with you. He texts you everyday you’re apart to make sure that you’ve eaten and gotten enough sleep.
Carlos can’t bear the thought of being away from you for more than a week between races. He casually mentions that he’s going back to Spain for the small break, and asks if you want to join him.
You laugh and scoff shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious, it could be fun. You could relax a little bit. I could take you on my boat. C’mon.” He persuades you.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time off.”
“You’re not. I want you there, I promise. Please?” He takes your hands in his, swinging them back and forth. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes and bats his eyelashes at you.
“Alright, I’ll go with you.” You sigh, but can’t stop the smile from spreading over your face.
It’s different, sharing a space with Carlos outside of the four-walled hotel rooms you’ve stayed in for work. It feels intimate being with him in his home country. He books a private villa to stay in on the beach.
The trip quickly feels more romantic than friendly, what with him cooking your dinner for you, and your evenings in either the hot tub or curled up together on the couch.
You spend your days with Carlos on his boat. You reading a book you brought with you, and Carlos laying out in the sun to tan.
It’s hard not to stare at him, his tanned toned chest on display, while his swim trunks hang low on his hips. He has just as much trouble keeping his eyes away from you as well, he can’t help but watch you as you scamper around the boat in a different little bikini everyday.
Occasionally he convinces you to hop in the water with him, to which you reluctantly agree. You keep your arms locked around him when you feel something brush against your leg in the water. Carlos keeps a firm hold on your waist as he can’t stop laughing at your distress.
Eventually you get back on his boat and sit side by side on the edge, with your feet dangling in the water. You stare down at the crystal blue sea, looking for any creatures swimming around.
Carlos looks back out to the shore. The smile that’s been plastered on his face for the last few days falls when he sees a figure on the beach. They’re far enough away that he can’t really tell who it is, but close enough that he can see the camera in their hands.
He leans back and grabs a towel, laying it over your shoulders, covering up the skin you had on display. He wraps a protective arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, in hopes that the photos he knows will be everywhere in a few days won’t be clear enough to reveal you in them.
That night he decides to cook on the boat, which turns out to be a little more chaotic than he’d originally planned. He struggles to keep everything straight, but finds it all worth it in the end when he gets to see you surrounded by the sunset. You look breathtaking, looking out into the sea. The soft breezes wisps your hair away from your face. The sinking sun casts a gold light to wash over you.
He wants to tell you how he feels, but he knows he needs to come clean. Maybe you’ll forgive him, he hopes you will. He needs to put this in the past so that he can love you publicly and wholeheartedly.
You quietly share your meal, then break the silence simultaneously.
“I have something I need to tell you.”
“Carlos-”
“You first.” He nods.
You take a deep breath. “Carlos, I want to thank you for bringing me here, and really for spending all this time with me. I’m glad you bumped into me at the paddock because I’ve gained a new friend from it. You’re one of the best men I know, and I really appreciate you taking care of me.”
“Thank you.” He feels his chest tighten at your words.
“The truth is, I’ve come to care about you a lot more than I thought I would. A few of the other drivers tried to ask me out when I was first hired, but I told them no. I was happy when you didn’t try to make a move on me, and instead wanted to pursue a friendship with me.” You look down at your hands, and fiddle with your fingers. “But if you did try to make a move on me now… I don’t think I’d mind it…” Your last sentence comes out quieter than the others.
“Really?” Carlos asks, a soft smile growing on his face.
You clear your throat. “What were you going to say?”
He can’t tell you now. He can’t poison this perfect moment, after you’ve confessed your feelings to him.
“I was going to say that I feel the same way.”
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celtic-crossbow · 1 month
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 26
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Mainly just pregnancy stuff
A/N: I hope I pulled this off while keeping our archer in character. Be gentle.
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gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
You knew it was bothering him, it was evident in the way he moved. The jerking slices of the knife as he made bolts while he sat cross legged on the old railing across from you. You were perched on the porch swing—he had all but jumped up and down on it to make sure it would hold you safely—just watching him, guilt flaring to singe the inside of your chest. He wanted to go on the run, get the things that you and the baby needed, but you were scared. Hershel had said the baby could come any day. It was at your insistence that Daryl wasn’t going. You didn’t have to try hard, mind you. He was worried about leaving you as well.
Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him for the others to be risking their necks for his baby.
“Maybe you should go.” You finally said, picking at your thumbnail. You saw his movements come to an abrupt halt before continuing.
“Nah. Ya need me here.” He sniffed, starting up on another piece of wood. He had legitimate bolts with his crossbow, so you could only assume he was just trying to keep his hands busy. He was so undeniably torn and it was showing.
“I think you should. You know what I need. You’ve read the books. Maggie will be there to help with the medical side of things, the list Hershel made.” You sat up straighter, attempting to massage the little foot away from your ribs. Of course, Daryl noticed.
“S’wrong?” He was climbing off the rail and made it over to you in one long stride, giving you a once over before he sat down. He didn’t ask before taking over for you, lightly rubbing over the little form of toes with the smallest, gentlest of smiles. You’d almost consent to constant discomfort if it meant you’d see more of that expression.
“Thumper has a personal vendetta against my ribcage.” Your head found your partner’s shoulder, watching that same laser focus that had moments ago been on the wood he was carving now honed in on you. For a moment, you were just a couple expecting a baby. For a moment, the world hadn’t ended. For a moment, you had managed to find perfect. “I love you.”
Daryl’s hand froze but for a mere heartbeat before his fingertips continued chasing little toes as if he were playing a game with the baby, when in reality he was simply trying to divert the tiny digits away from your ribs. “So ya keep sayin’.”
“So you keep saying. Is that all you’re ever gonna say?” You weren’t angry, not even frustrated. There was merely a soft curiosity that sat in the back of your mind; along with the little voice that assured you Daryl was yours and you were his, even if he could never say the words.
“Dunno.” It always unsettled you when he spoke so quietly, small and fragile as if he feared his words would end in some sort of pain. God, you wanted to bury his father in a gopher hole, maybe even his mother and brother. It was normal for a person to be unsure of feelings, to question and explore before accepting what they were, good or bad. Daryl didn’t have that capability. He questioned. He explored. And then he feared, good or bad. He didn’t think he deserved good and he was so attuned with bad that it’s what came naturally in his own reactions. Perhaps he thought you were trying to fix him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t see anything broken. You saw someone who had never been shown what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t broken, he just needed to learn, and Daryl was good at learning. 
Still you persevered, your fingers finding their way into his hair, delicately tracing the scar from Andrea’s bullet. “Do you love me, Daryl?” Maybe narrowing it down to a simple yes or no would make it easier for him. Maybe you were pushing him. You would need time if the answer was no but you would be okay. He cared enough to be with you, to raise Thumper as a family. In the end, that was all you needed.
But then his hand stilled on the center of your swollen belly and he lifted his head to seek out your gaze. Even with all the emotion stirring in those stormy pools of blue, you could easily see the fear, but there was something else. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, the color darkening somewhat as it grew. Even with that comforting gesture, you held his gaze, heard his breath stutter, watched his lips move so, so nimbly without a sound. His free hand came up to brush back your own hair, tenderly tucking it behind your ear. As he leaned toward you, the corners of your mouth lifted into a welcoming smile.
“Y/N, I—”
“We’re heading out!” Glenn called from the doorway before stepping onto the porch. Daryl pulled away fast, his hands on his knees, eyes downcast. 
You were going to absolutely torture Glenn before you murdered him.
“You sure you don’t wanna go, Daryl?” Rick had joined Glenn and was checking his weapons before he finally looked up.
Daryl, though, only had eyes for you; his bowed head angled to see you, questioning. 
You sighed with a smile, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “Go. Try to find those bra pad things. Cloths suck and they hurt my nipples.” There was no deeper shade of red that could color his skin. You laughed, loud and true. “Go. We’ll be fine.” Licking his lips nervously, Daryl nodded and left the swing.
T-Dog held out the archer’s bag and crossbow. “Thought you might change your mind. Went ahead and grabbed these.” He only received a nod. 
The group began to descend the steps, but Daryl paused at the end, looking back to you. He closed the distance in seconds, a finger hooking under your chin to lift your face higher, even though you were already looking at him. “Be back ‘fore dark. Promise.”
That earned him one of your sweetest smiles. “We’ll be waiting.” You patted your belly. The rough hand at your chin, moved to your jaw, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I love you, Daryl. Be safe.” He hesitated, long enough for something to stir in your chest. Hope? Excitement? Then he merely nodded and was gone.
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You and Lori were given the least strenuous tasks. She was not far behind you. A few weeks, her belly almost as prominent as your own. Luckily, you found it helped for folding clothing before stuffing them in the correct bag. Your bare feet were propped up in a chair across from you, your ankles swollen, squeezed by the socks that you had to wear to keep them warm. Your body just ached all over. Thumper Dixon was playing field hockey with your internal organs and the nausea you had definitely not missed was threatening to make a comeback. You just felt awful.
“The last month is the worst.” Lori commented while packing away some of Carl’s clothing. “And it’ll take a while after the baby comes to feel human again.”
“Growing a human fucking sucks.” You groused, one of Daryl’s few shirts lying spread over your torso. “And goddamnit, I have to pee. I always have to pee.”
“Means you’re hydrated at least. Silver linings.” Lori tittered. If anyone had been watching the two of you battling to your feet, it would have been worthy of more than a few chuckles.
“Thanks for going with me. Daryl would have a kitten if I went alone.” When you straightened, there was an immediate feeling of change in your body that had you looking to Lori, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I can breathe but I feel like I’m gonna piss my pants and my hips hurt.”
She smiled and placed her hands over her own round bump. “The baby dropped. You're carrying differently now. I wish we had a mirror.” 
“Carrying differently? What do you—oh.” You immediately noticed when you began to massage the taut skin that the swell sat lower. You suddenly couldn’t remember a word the old man had said. Were you about to go into labor? How would Daryl know? You couldn’t do it without him.
“Easy, Y/N.” At some point, the other woman had crossed the small space and put her hands on your shoulders, your stomachs brushing against one another. “It just means the baby’s getting ready. Though, I think after this run, Daryl should probably consider staying behind on any others.” You nodded, trying to get your breathing under control. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Let’s go take care of business and then let Hershel do his daily thing, okay?”
You nodded again, a jerky motion while you trembled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You followed behind her, trying to keep your mind on the fact that if you didn’t empty your bladder within the next couple of minutes, you would still be incredibly anxious but you would be so with wet pants. “Maybe the little gremlin can’t reach my ribs now.”
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You felt like crap. All day, you felt heavy and sluggish, swollen and nauseous. By late afternoon, you just couldn’t stand it anymore. 
“Carol.” You spoke her name quietly, leaning onto the dusty countertop to pillow your head on your folded arms. You saw the concern on her face when she turned from canned foods with which she was planning small meals. You couldn’t even wave away her worry. “Do you need my help right now? I think I’d really like to lie down.” 
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She came to place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. It only succeeded in making your yearn for Daryl to be there, easing your fears in his own Daryl way. He would probably already have an aneurysm when someone told him that you’d done work, light as it was. And then you needed to tell him that the baby had indeed dropped. God, even if you didn’t tell him, he’d notice with that keen eye of his. Your stomach had shifted, still round but lower. There was so much pressure on your pelvis that you thought the bones might separate at any moment. Lori had promised that what you were feeling was normal, that it was simply new and you would take a day or two to adjust unless the baby decided to make its debut before you could.
“I just don’t feel well.” You stood straighter, nodding that she could remove her hand and you were fine. “I’d rather have Daryl come back to me feeling like shit and resting than to me feeling like shit and trying to help get things done.”
“I can’t argue with that.” She laughed. 
Carol was about the only other person in the group that Daryl dropped any of his walls around. With Rick, it was all business. There was respect there, but not yet friendship. You could see it though, the subtle changes in your hunter. He was getting comfortable around these people. It was a snail’s pace but if they were anything like you hoped they were, he would be granted their patience. God knew, he had earned it. 
“Come on.” Carol urged. “Let’s get you settled.” 
With each step, you whined, feeling less and less like the woman you had been only months before, like she had been left behind somewhere, starved or trampled by a herd. “I hate this. Is it wrong to hate this?” You grimaced at Carol who only chuckled breathily, her hand resting on your cheek.
“It’s not wrong. This is a lot. Our bodies do a lot.” A couple of soft pats and then she bent down to straighten the bedroll and arrange the blankets. 
You were watching, actually finding yourself excited to be off your feet and deciding that a nap wouldn’t be so horrible when there was a strange feeling low in your belly. It started as a gradual tightening but soon turned into an unyielding cramp, your stomach hard beneath your hands as you grabbed for your sweater. You gasped Carol’s name, could hear her clearly calling for Hershel but you couldn’t seem to respond, swallowed up by every fear that had been looming like a dark shadow for the past few weeks. The pain wasn’t even horrible, not like you had imagined at all. But it was terrifying. The only thing you could think of to do was hold the area that housed your little Thumper and whimper out Daryl’s name.
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A bed had been cleared, dusted, and made for you in the downstairs room. As you laid there, resting, and stared at the half empty cup of water on the bedside table, you overheard Beth and Carl animatedly re-telling how two walkers had shuffled by the driveway gate. The children had hid and remained quiet, reporting that no others were seen once those two had moved on. You weren’t naive enough to hope that it didn’t mean more were coming. The group would need to pack up and head out likely within the next day or so. 
“Braxton Hicks.” Hershel had stated matter-of-factly. He had expressed that he was actually surprised you hadn’t experienced them before then, added that maybe you had but they were so mild that you just didn’t notice. You had two more instances over the course of three hours but nothing since then, though your body seemed to be in a constant state of dread, waiting for another to happen; for it to be more than what Hershel had said. You were waiting for something to be wrong.
Beyond the dusty, tattered green curtains, you could see the light fading. Daryl would be back soon. Would he blame you for bringing this on by doing a little work? Would he be angry? He’d be beside himself with worry, that much was a given. Hershel had said you could do small chores, that it was good for you to be moving, but what if Daryl didn’t see it that way? The morning had started so perfectly. The conversation had been left unfinished but it didn’t seem to have been heading anywhere bleak. 
“Ugh.” You didn’t know what was more exhausting, your body or your brain. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind ran rampant with each and every wildly negative scenario it could possibly conjure. You groaned and rolled to your other side despite the effort and apprehensiveness of even moving. Letting your eyes close yet again, you fought against the intrusive thoughts, forcing images of what Thumper might look like instead. A little girl with Daryl’s eyes and your smile. A little boy with unruly light hair like Daryl’s had been, a constant scowl. You laughed softly, wetly, shedding a few tears around your smile. No matter the sex of the baby, you hoped for Daryl’s eyes. They were the one thing to always gave him away, no matter what expression he wore. With a baby that couldn’t communicate needs and wants, you would at least have that in your corner.
At some point, you must have dozed off, opening your eyes to the sound of the old truck Daryl was driving. Looking to the window, you could see the faint light of dusk giving way to the moon. He’d kept his promise, albeit barely. You didn’t care as long as he was back. Shifting and struggling, you finally made it upright just as you heard Glenn’s all too cheerful voice, though you couldn’t make out the words. Rick’s few words trailed right after. Then there was Daryl. He spoke but then there was nothing more than hushed tones. Hershel offering the day's events, most likely. A thud was followed by echoing stomps of boots pounding against the hardwood floors.
“Where is she?” Daryl roared, closer to the door.
“She’s fine, son. She’s resting. This is normal. It just caused a bit of a fright. She just—”
“Where. Is. She?!”
The old man must have nodded or pointed because the next thing you knew, the door was swinging open with Daryl’s silhouette backdropped by the soft candlelight in the other room. His shoulders were heaving in what sounded so close to sobs that you squinted your eyes for a chance to catch his expression before he moved, startling you with how quickly he had one knee on the bed and was leaning in to check you over himself. He was filthy, mostly dirt and grime, but spots of walker blood and a cut across his cheek that was no longer bleeding. 
“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his face but letting your hand hover in fear of hurting him.
“Don’t matter. Ya alright? Baby okay?” He was breathless, either from his haste to get to you or maybe just with worry. He was touching you without hesitance, his hands in a mad rush to feel your face, neck, your belly. You watched his eyes go wide and knew exactly what it meant. “Why’s it look diff’rent?” 
“Thumper dropped.” His eyes were dancing back and forth as he flipped through his mental catalog of reading material and Hershel’s words. Relief was evident in his posture when he recalled what he had been searching for, but he was still tense.
“Hershel said ya was crampin’. The fake shit. Does it hurt now?” You shook your head and watched him finally sink onto his hip beside you, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shouldn’a gone. Ya didn’t need to be alone through that.” 
“Hey.” You leaned as far as you could, to guide his hand away with one hand while the other used his chin to turn his face toward you. “I wasn’t alone and we’re okay. It’s just my body getting ready.” Daryl’s head tilted, his expression displaying his gratitude for your attempts at consolation but also heavy laden with guilt for leaving you there. “Daryl, you had to go.”
“Didn’t hafta do nothin’. Could’a stayed right here where ya need me to be.” 
He hadn’t asked what you had been doing. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him after all. He seemed to be more concerned with what happened and how you currently felt than anything. You truly needed to start trusting him as you wanted so badly for him to trust you. Your palm left his face and wrapped around the back of his neck, not needing much pressure to pull him to you for your lips to press against his. It was gentle and chaste, his hand leaving your belly to cup your jaw.
“We’re okay and you’re here now.” You soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just—no more runs until Thumper’s here, okay?”
“No more runs.” He agreed, his eyes closed, forehead against yours. “Ain’t leavin’ ya again.” His hand lowered back to your belly, rubbing back and forth. It was always the most tender thing you’d ever seen from him. You didn’t think him the type but he actually seemed to be calmed by the action. “D’ya need anythin’?”
“Just you.” You let him help you lie back, but he didn’t follow. 
“Need to clean up. I’ll be quick.” He made to stand up but you grabbed his forearm and pulled yourself up again, not stopping once you got there. He gave in to your incessant tugging and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re gonna need to change too now.” You sniffled, trying hard not to cry, but you were just so overwhelmed with relief that he was back in one piece, that nothing bad had truly happened, that he was going to stay. “Don’t cry, woman. M’here.”
“I know. I’m just—I’m happy. I have you and Thumper. And—I don’t deserve you, Daryl Dixon.”
Daryl scoffed, rubbing his cheek against the crown of your head. “Ya deserve way better than me, Sunshine.” He took a deep breath that actually shifted you against his chest and then he was tightening his embrace. “But I love ya. An’ m’here unless ya tell me to get lost.” He pulled away before you could say anything, heading quickly for the door with one last look before he walked out. You were stunned frozen, silent. 
He said it.
He said it and you could feel that he meant it. His actions had always conveyed it, but hearing it from his mouth was everything. 
Thumper rolled and kicked before going still, reacting to all the emotions you were feeding to them through your bond. When you laid down again, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep. No wicked images formed behind your eyes. Just those words replaying in your head, a baby’s tiny hand gripping a large finger. A child’s giggle. And then his voice again.
Your eyes didn’t want to obey when you bid them to open, the mattress dipping beside you, the sheets moving. A warm arm pulled you against an even warmer body, enveloping you in a veil of safety.
Everything would be okay.
Because you loved Daryl.
And Daryl loved you.
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wroteclassicaly · 1 year
Text
I Won’t Stand By - Part One
(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)
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Summary: Steve has always been worth more. And you won’t stand by and watch him get his heart broken again. He needs to know.
Warnings: Language, pining, unrequited (or are they?) feelings, heavy on the angst, happy ending… eventually.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x best-friend!female reader
A/N: After I made this post, I started thinking heavily on Steve, Nancy & Stancy, a little more than usual. And I just feel like I needed to write this and channel some energy into it, as it basically took on a mind of its own (we heavily into Steve, okay? He’s consuming me). It’s going to have one more part to it (which I’ve already outlined). It’s thick on the angst, but it’ll have a happy ending, I think? I tried some different stuff with Steve and his reactions, so I hope y’all like it? Lemme know ❤️💖
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“Are you stupid?”
You’d never insinuated, nor had you ever called Steve anything that would suggest he was ignorant, and you had known him since elementary school. You never made him feel like anyone else could, by a joke or an offhand comment, usually a backhanded compliment. But as he sees you standing under the entryway of the Family Video — three lunches in your hand, your neon pink windbreaker covered in rain drops, eyes steady in their focus on him and Robin — he’s never felt more like his IQ is non-existent.
Robin looks briefly confused, tapping her purple painted nails on the cheap wooden counter, unsure where to look. However, her mouth opens before she can stop it. “Hey, what’s going on? Is that a ham croissant I smell?”
You’d laugh if your lungs weren’t full of a scream that you’re sure is about to rip itself free. Your heartbeat is thumping so hard against your ribcage that it’s echoing all around your chest, playing ping pong. Steve opens his mouth to speak, starting to shift his posture enough that he can work himself around the counter to get to you. He can’t stand to see you this upset, especially at him. You don’t let him come within an inch of your trembling form, afraid that you’ll say things you can’t take back, or you’ll vomit your breakfast all over his green vest.
You want to berate yourself for the way he looks struck, physically recoiling as if to console himself. His sneakers stop on the rug you’re standing on, your wet loafers drenched and dripping. Nike and leather. You can’t take how good he smells, the way that it always greets you with a hug, but instead, you walked into his conversation with Robin about his upcoming date with Nancy. He really meant it, he saw her as his future, he never got over her, and now that she’s realized what she lost — she wants him back.
Steve is about to call a code for backup, when you decide to say something, stepping around him, paper bags full of food clenched and wrinkled in your vice. You damn near spit the words, tone laced with acidic venom. “Why would you do this to yourself?”
His chest aches with the bitterness of confusion, a hunger to understand that’s clawing at his throat and attempting to seize his tongue. He’s fumbling for words and that seems to fuel your excitement. Robin, meanwhile, her irises widen, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. It's a simple & soft, “Oh, shit.” As she watches your feelings unfold in real time, understanding.
You throw the sacks onto the counter, Robin barely able to catch them before they can slide off, and you turn back, right as Steve shakes himself clear and attempts to meet you. Your finger jabs into his chest, breath getting caught in your throat. He bites his tongue when he sees your sclera is flooded with unshed tears. You know if you blink that it’ll all be over for you. How can you convey how you’re feeling?
Even if you weren’t ass over elbow for the guy, you still wouldn’t want him back together with Nancy Wheeler. She might be your friend too, but you were there for Steve. You saw everything he had to go through, and even though you didn’t leave his side, he was still dealing with their relationship and monster land — alone, trapped in his head. It wasn’t until he graduated that he was able to let go of each mental blockage that she and the whole situation caused him to put up (enough so), and truly let you in. She didn’t share his goals and Steve deserved better than a relationship that seems like nothing more than pure nostalgia.
Neither of them should settle. They are still vastly different.
Fuck, you really need to scream. Your chest is heavy with it, weighted. You’re sinking, choking on oxygen, your body rejecting it. Panic.
Steve practically begs Robin for help, jaw unhinged and tongue slicking across his lips. He tries to find something to say — anything. You roll your eyes and the tears finally salt your lash line, cooling and burning. “Actually, you know what? Fuck this right now!”
And if customers didn’t just come in, the little bell dinging and electrifying your anxieties — you’d have run right out the front door. But you do the next best thing — your only other option. You dart for the family labeled restroom in the back. Steve doesn’t even have to ask, Robin nodding her head. “Go. I got this.”
~*~
You curse yourself for not locking the door, for Steve’s thoroughly kind behavior (why can’t he just be an asshole and make this easier?). You’re practically bent over the sink, sobbing quietly into the fluorescent expanse, and you hear the door open and close. His cologne invades your senses — all delicate traces of woodsy spice. His freshly laundered clothing, even his minty breath from the spray you know he carries in his back pocket. It’s slow motion when you meet his concerned stare in the mirror.
His large palm clasps over your shoulder, wrist watch catching in the light. He turns you, but you find solace in the tile flooring and your loafer covered toes. His fingertips, ever-so gentle and calloused, filter beneath your chin — tilting. You try to look away but it’s a pointless effort. Steve’s brown is pitched high in an attempt to understand, to relate.
Your torso wants to give in and collapse, legs dead and heavy, stuck to the floor. Your mouth is dry, but your throat is wet with tears. It’s suddenly Tina’s Halloween party all those years ago, and you’re holding Steve as he’s crying, showing himself like you had never seen before. Your nose wrinkles into a scrunch, you reach up to swat his hand away. He catches your wrist with his other, and shakes his head, thumbpad caressing the healing cut on your cheek, even a month later it still remains.
When you went to battle with Vecna and the four of you were attacked by his little tentacle hive minds, you’d gotten the sharp end of one to the face. That very fear settles in his stomach at the memory, sloshing about with the gnawing worry over what’s currently going on with you. He tucks a strand of hair back behind your ear, a line of goosebumps shrouding your arms like invisible sleeves. His voice is so gentle with concern that you choke on an outright whimper.
“Talk to me, honey. What happened? What did I do?”
To a fault, this man is too good for anyone. And that’ll be his ultimate downfall. That’s enough to push on your anger, because you’re already riding the inevitable tidal wave of heartbreak, just waiting for the water to drown you. You don’t try to move his hold on you, you’re more than smart enough to know that he won’t budge if he doesn’t want to. You force yourself to talk to him, voice wavering and weak, and the word puke releases. “That’s the problem, Steve. It’s not what you did, but what you’re going to do to yourself by going back to her.”
“Wait, so you heard me and Robin—“
“I heard you in the RV, I heard you in the fucking upside down, and yes — I just heard about your stupid fucking date.”
He shakes his head, thumb tracing over your healing wound, a brief look of guilt flickering, his voice hoarse and tired. “So that’s why you think I’m stupid then, huh?”
“Do you remember when you cried all night after Tina’s party? When you spent money on flowers for her, or lost your entire friend group? Yeah, they were assholes, but you gave up everything because you thought something was wrong with you, that you needed to change.”
He’s briefly glancing at his own shoe wear, an audible swallow heard from him. How could he forget that night? He couldn’t stomach the word bullshit for months after.
You continue, unable to stop if someone duct taped your mouth shut.
“You dealt with torture, with trauma, with being cheated on. You became a more mature person, but that doesn’t mean you were ever an awful boyfriend, Steve. And now that she and Jonathan have grown apart, now that she’s seen you — it doesn’t make it okay for her to decide that you’re suddenly worth something again.”
He knows you’re right. Fuck, he can feel your statement carve itself into his every internal organ. He can’t disagree, he can’t fight you, because he fought with himself one too many times since Nancy destroyed him. His pride wants to argue, wants to blame himself, defend her, but he also knows you. And he knows you’re not taking shots at Nancy, nor are you trying to hurt him.
You’re surprised at how calmly you’re able to articulate yourself. You keep going. He needs to know.
“We were all kids when everything happened, and I don’t blame her for dealing with her own shit. I’m not excusing how she treated you. But I understand, and I love her. I just know that she doesn’t want the same things you want, Steve. It’s like you’re both trying to fit pieces into a mold that was never meant to work together, past what it was in the first place… So I’m fucking begging you, don’t do this to yourself.”
His hand drops, far too quickly than you’re ready for. His back falls against the door, his tresses dusting his forehead. Your body feels as if it’s been paved into the asphalt, unprepared for what he says next. “Any reasons other than that?”
“Steve—“ Your voice wobbles.
“No, you’ve made yourself clear. Me and Nance? Bad idea — I got that.”
“It’s because —“
“Why? There’s more to it than what you’re telling me, I know there is. Don’t fucking lie to me!” You’ve hit that spot in him, that wounded pride. He’s lashing a bit, arms crossing over his chest, biceps flexed beneath his white t-shirt.
“Because, I..” Your sentence topples.
He inches forward. “Because you what? Talk to me!”
Does he realize? Maybe he has an inkling, maybe he’s pushing it. You aren’t able to decipher, your emotions swirling, everything becoming too much all at once. Your instincts fly out the window, shattering glass, heart catching on your throat as it leaps out of your mouth and floats into the room. You lurch forward and grab Steve’s cheeks, his stubble tickling the backs of your fingers — and you press your lips to his.
He’s stiff at first, arms remaining tight and bound together. You’re crying, salting his mouth slick. He tastes like peppermint and coffee, with a hint of that creamer you’ve gotten him hooked on. His mouth is soft, becoming pliant. He begins to kiss you back, but it’s for a fraction, yet it’s there. His nose nudges yours, bumping, your lips parting with a smack as he uses his hands (arms uncrossing), to pull you away, cradling your face.
Heated, like a syrupy honey, he talks to you. He’s got it this go around. “Why didn’t you tell me that this was going on?”
You go to leave him, he won’t dare let you. His hold tightens, index finger rubbing along your cut. Your eyes flutter closed, fresh tears dowsing the raw skin of your cheeks. The moisture pours over Steve’s fingers.
“Don’t.” It’s him who is begging, chained undercurrents cutting into the depth of his voice. “Please don’t cry.”
The way that he strokes you, his grazing thumb soothing your cut, like you’re right back in the underworld and he almost died twice over seeing you hurt. He swipes at your tears, trying to wipe them away, but they blotch. More keeps coming. You’re dangling over that precipice of an anxiety attack that he can also sense. Like he’s coddling a wounded deer, Steve pulls you closer, bringing his lips to your forehead — pressing, voice gravelly, mouth moving away to utter, “Come here. Stay right here.” And helps you rest in his arms, your head sliding beneath his chin.
Whatever you attempt to say, it comes out as gibberish whimpering. Steve’s own chest cavity is scorched, throat blazing, eyes misty. You find solace in his broad physique, nose at his sternum. He’s confused, so many things running through his head, that it fucking aches at the base of his skull. Your cherry lip gloss-flavored kiss lingers, making him think of things he thought were just passing feelings for you a while ago.
There’s many things he wants to say, but his brain has a case of coward, working him into a settled question instead. “How long?”
“Everyday since I’ve known you, I think.” It’s an automatic whisper, a ghostly caress of your broken voice, but he still hears your answer.
He’s nodding, an annoyance filtering, a sadness. How could you not tell him something like this? All those nights you shared, talking about everything. He’s been more vulnerable with you than he’s been with anyone in his entire twenty years. This, he has to call you on.
“In all of the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?”
Still buried in his embrace, you shake your head no.
“Is it — do you… Shit.” He isn’t sure how to phrase it, not wanting to make an ass of himself, the word also scaring the hell out of him.
He gets his answer, thankfully — when you speak. “Don’t ask me if I love —“ You cut yourself off briefly, before adding on, “— just… don’t, okay?”
His lids close, a sigh escaping. Holy shit, you love him. Someone else loves him, his best-friend is in love with him. And he could never see that? He talked about sex with other girls, about Nancy.
And not once did you ever stop him or act like it wasn’t alright. You hyped him up, you were always there to boost his spirits and his ego. He feels like a total asshole. His previous sigh has you shaking your head, especially after he lets out a quiet “I’m sorry.”
You break off his embrace, finding a hold on his forearms, squeezing. “Steve, look at me.” You find your courage again.
He complies immediately, rich hazel catching, nearly stealing your breath. You clear your throat lightly, inhaling through your nose to relax yourself. Steve’s hands are still on your face — unrelenting. “This thing with Nancy, it’s not even because of how I feel, not completely. You’re more than some trophy husband, you’re more than some minimum wage video clerk, even though I think your jobs have been pretty fucking cool.” His softened gaze dips off and he chuckles himself into that cheekily, familiar grin.
“Please don’t do this to yourself again, Steve. You deserve better than this. You always have. You’re the fucking heart of our group, don’t you understand that? Fuck the thumps on the head, fuck nostalgia. I’ve never stopped seeing what a good man you are, even when you used to be a bitchy jerk sometimes.”
He laughs again, music to your ears that gets you to stop crying briefly. You slide your fingers along his bare arms and he’s thoughtful, pausing, wanting to look away from you. Because what he’s going to say, he can’t bear the expression on your face. He just wishes, he almost begs the universe that Nancy hadn’t brought back her bullshit and confused him. And you kissed him and released a bunch of things he’d pushed away, things he didn’t even know existed.
Someone’s going to get hurt and he thinks it should be him, but as he’s gentle with you, fingertips splaying down the sides of your neck, he’s brought back down to the messy reality he’s a part of. “It wasn’t resolved on my terms. Honey, I have to try. Can’t you see things from my perspective, please understand?”
You decide instantaneously what you’re going to do, your ribs aching at the sudden drop in your heart rate, your throat feeling like it’s swollen to twice the normal size. Your hand leaves his wrist, combing the hair off his forehead — memorizing every mole and freckle, his cupid's bow, his jaw, those hauntingly warm eyes. He thinks you’ll get it, that you’ll stay. And you do get it, but the latter? You’re eerily firm, new tears seeping out, flooding your vision, making him a blurry silhouette.
It’s gonna be bad, he can feel the twisting in his gut. He tries to say something, beginning a reason. You cut him off. “I need you to understand that I can’t stand by and watch this. I care about you both, but you can’t ask me to watch you two try and sweep everything under the rug, and you can’t expect me to watch if your heart gets broken. I won’t watch you fall apart again. I can’t do it, Steve.”
“What are you saying?” He sounds pained, like you’d socked him in his stomach. It sure fucking feels like it. Even the tip of his tongue is aching, his own vision becoming cloudy. “How do you even know things won’t work?”
“If they do, then great. If she’s your person and that’s what was meant to happen, I hope it works for you.” If he’s happy, you mean that. But you just don’t think he deserves this, he deserves more, despite your feelings. And there’s some things that you just know.
He straightens himself against the door when he sees you reach around for the handle. He shakes his head and tries to keep your touch. You drop it, tears dripping off your lashes and onto the cheap flooring below. “Let me leave, Steve.”
“No, not happening.”
“Don’t do this.”
“You’re my best-friend, I can’t just be without you.”
“You have Robin. You can handle this.”
“I don’t wanna fucking handle this,” he lashes out, stepping forward and cupping your cheeks, making you look at him, his touch searing into your skin, “I want you.”
“Steve.” You’re a little heavier in your command, pulling his hands away, impulse leading. You lift onto your tippy toes and permit yourself a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
His breath is choppy, a sudden heat leveling off the room, his nose bumps, sliding off your peck, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss him back with everything in you, mouths wet and tear stricken. He’s crying too, everything wet, spit stringing as your lips separate.
“I really hope it turns out to be what you want.” You pant your sorrows against his mouth, drinking him in — seeing. You’re falling, abandoning emotions and nearing sobbing territory.
Steve’s hands drop as you say this and it gives you the leverage you need to leave him alone in the bathroom, one last pleading cry from him cut off as you close the door behind you. You keep your head down and you walk through the store alone, its popcorn and candy coated scent striking you. You only stop when you’re at the counter and Robin has a piece of her sandwich pinched between her fingers, a pitiful look on her face as she sees your tear-stained features. She doesn’t get the chance to ask you anything, not before you request, crushing her heart into pieces. “Make sure he’s okay. He’s gonna need you.”
And your presence is gone in mere seconds, that bell signifying something much more than anyone was ready to comprehend. You make it to your car, rain pouring around you, right as Steve leaves the bathroom pinching his nose and sniffling, watching you from the window. You don’t break down, not until you’ve driven away and found somewhere to pull over.
Over…
// Eat me paragraph //
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inferencesarchives · 7 months
Note
Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!
`•- Time for Yourself
pure vanilla cookie x fem reader
summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?
warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((
a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie
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Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.
Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.
That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.
You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.
He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.
When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.
"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.
"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.
As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"
You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.
a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear
thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao
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johnbassplayercutie · 2 months
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Man-U-Lip-U-Lator
Warnings: 18+, manipulation, fem!reader x stephen glass
Word count: 1.6k
Summary: You work with Stephen, and after a few times of hearing his stories at weekly meetings, you grow suspicious of him. You stay late one day at work when it's just you and him there after everyone's left. Your plan is to interrogate him or at least figure out if he's really telling the truth. You notice he gets up to print some stuff in the printing room and decide on snooping through his things in his office. Once finding incriminating evidence that suggests he's faking everything, he comes back catching you sifting through his stuff (aka his little black book from the movie with all his "info" in it lmao).
part one ♡
— — — —
Stephen finishes up collecting his printed copies and walks back to his office. He's too preoccupied to notice that you’re missing from your own.
Stephen enters, gripping his copies tightly and stands frozen in shock at you leaning over his messy desk of papers.
"What are you doing?!" He whines loudly, noticing you holding his little planner, open to a random page.
You whip your head to the office door and almost yelp out at his sudden appearance. It's too late now to back out.
"You've been lying, haven't you?" You state matter-of-factly rather than a simple question.
"What are you talking about?" Stephen questions as he feigns ignorance to the topic, "Give me back my planner, that's important for my sources!"
"Yeah, yeah. Your sources." You rolled your eyes and finger quoted sarcastically.
"Look, if this is about if Dave ever picked up from the Hackers Organization, I already gave Chuck the correct phone number. I got it confused with another one of my sources." Stephen tried to derail the topic.
"Stephen, I know you’ve been lying. And that goes for the Hackers Organization, too." You state, crossing your arms and holding his planner close.
You know he would try to snatch it at any chance if it means saving his ass from being fired. There was no way you'd let him get the satisfaction.
"Are you mad at me?! Did I do something wrong?" Stephen questions worriedly, "I swear I just made a few mistakes with the details, but I gave Chuck all the correct information!" He babbles on with an anxious tone and demeanor.
His attitude begins to make you falter. Maybe it's all just in your head and you're jealous of his success. You almost feel bad for him, he's practically about to beg on his knees.
No, no, no, snap out of it! You were sure of it.
Stephen steps closer to you, obviously trying to get his planner back. You distance yourself from him but back up into his computer, knocking over his pencil holder on the desk, the contents spilling all over the floor.
"Y/N, watch where you're going! You could've deleted the files on my computer, they’re important!” He whines out like usual. You scramble to the floor, attempting to pick up the scattered pencils whilst placing his planner down beside you.
Stephen eyes his planner down beside you but keeps up with the manipulation tactics. He’s hoping he will dissuade you from what he knows is the truth. He kneels down, helping you pick up the pencils off the floor and returning them into the holder. Stephen stares at you intently before speaking, sure of himself that this lie will work.
"Look, if you really don't believe me, you could always come over to my apartment," You meet his eyes, confused as to how that could even be a solution. He continues on and notices you're not buying it before quickly conjuring up more lies with ease, "I have the cassette tape recordings of my sessions with the Hackers Organization. I could play it for you if you don't believe me. I even have tapes from other editorials I did."
You ponder if he could be really telling you the truth. It wouldn't really hurt to try and hear him out. You still have his planner and you could use it against him as blackmail if all proves false.
"Okay....but if you're lying about this, then I'm going to report you to Chuck. I have this to prove otherwise,"
You reach to grab the planner but notice that it's not where you placed it. You panic internally but try to act calm, then noticing Stephen is grasping the planner for his dear life. You flicker to his hands and his knuckles are white and veins strained.
His eyes meet yours and you can almost see him smirk. Almost.
Damn it.
"Look, I really don't like the way you're treating me. I feel really attacked!" Stephen states, getting suddenly defensive and angry.
"I'm not– I-I just want what's best for our readers and everyone working here." You say softly, feeling put on the spot as he scolds you.
"You're one of my editors! You're supposed to support me, but you're taking Chuck's side over mine!" He raises his voice again, visibly upset, chest rising and falling in agony.
He looks sad, tears forming in his eyes, but something is off. He quickly falters, and you can see him forming a shy smile.
"If you really don't believe me, you can come listen to the cassette tapes..." He says softly and shamefully, like someone denied him of something meaningful. He completely avoids the fact that he just took the notes, spoiling your plans of questioning him.
You have no choice but to do as he says. Your only solution from this disaster was that note planner.
"Alright, fine. Let's go before it's too late. I have more important things to do than deal with this all night." You say exasperated, urging him to grab his things and get this over and done with. The sooner you can hear or not hear these tapes, the closer you are to deciding Stephen's fate.
Stephen takes the planner and stuffs it into his leather briefcase, zipping it up. He can't risk you snatching it away from him again.
He returns to his usual chirpy self, babbling on about random facts, talking about things in his office or his apartment. It's like whatever outburst he had a few minutes ago never happened.
He glances over at you, keeping a close eye on you as he puts his arms through his suit jacket. His gaze is intense and you feel the butterflies in your stomach. The urge to look away is becoming strong but his eyes lure you in. You flush red in the face and suddenly you’re squeezing your thighs together. Only a look from him and you’re already wet.
Stephen’s eyes flicker down, noticing your tension before he looks back to your face, biting his lip knowingly.
You have to admit Stephen was always handsome. You've always kept a watchful eye on him at work, only solidifying the fact. There's no denying that you may have a crush on obsession with him. How else would you suspect he was lying when all you do is eavesdrop and watch him?
Stephen gives a small smile as he adjusts his collar, walking up to you. You feel your heart begin to race at his closeness. He leans in closer, reaching an arm around you. You can hear your heart stop for a second.
A second later, the click of the mouse awakens you from a daze. You can hear his slow breathing next to your ear as he's against you, trapping you against the desk. He whispers softly in your ear, "Just have to save my work and turn off the computer before we go." You can hear him grin before clicking the power button and moving back to face you.
You're in shock at the proximity between the two of you. Your mind is misfiring, confused as to where the shy and boyish Stephen had run off to. No, he was right in front of you...right?
"Stephen, I–" You're about to speak but no words come to mind. You sigh quietly as his hand grazes against your hip, steadying you against his desk.
He quirks a brow, urging you on to continue. He's pleased, his smile coming through as he resists doing so.
"Uh—nevermind." You falter before looking anywhere but at him. His face is so close you could kiss him.
"Okay," He pulls away and shrugs. He's smiling now, flickering his eyes away playfully before turning toward the door. "You should probably grab your coat." Stephen walks over to the chair and grabs his briefcase and coat, waiting for you by the door. His finger rests on the light switch, ready for you to exit his office first.
You're blushing and it's clearly obvious now that he's got you in his trap. You turn to him before walking out his door, "I'll be right back."
You grab your coat and purse and quickly flick off your office lights, closing the door behind you. Stephen's waiting for you by the elevator at the end of the room. As you slip into your coat, Stephen is facing the elevator before turning to you as you approach his side.
"You, first." He states as the door slides open, his gaze holding yours with intensity.
taglist: @nananooti
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mahg-stuff · 9 months
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𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍
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Prompt: "Only God knows why"
Summary: Big Daddy just wants to try exploring new erotic themes with his sweet dolly but it involves a firearm, though she is wary she puts her faith in Elvis and God.
Pairing: bd!elvis x afab!reader
Word count: 13k
Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, excessive smut, 18+!, gun play, sorta naive reader, manipulative tactics!?, mentions of religion, age gap (isn’t directly stated), certain themes can be disturbing/dark, lots of manhandling, quick mention of Elvis’ health, implied butt stuff f!receiving (only briefly brought to the attention), first time giving oral m!receiving, use of the word daddy, pet names, Elvis at one point calls himself papa bear, might’ve missed a few...
AN: ITS HERE MY LOVELY'S! I know i made y’all wait so so long for this & I just wanna say sorry. Life just decided to get in the way again and took a toll on me but I'm finally back & ready to give you guys this story you so deserve!
Like I mentioned in my previous post this is my literal first attempt of writing something like this and about Elvis, as well as writing about religion. Hope you all enjoy it! I’m no expert so please go easy on me. hehehe (Though I will admit I had this story idea marinating for a quite awhile, let's just say Big Daddy is a handful.)
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 After wrapping up your usual prayer of gratitude to God for another day of life, something you had started doing since getting with Elvis. You noticed the time on the clock and realized that night was drawing near. Feeling a sense of peace and delight, you closed your eyes, ready to embrace the night and all the possibilities it may bring. You felt grateful for the moment and decided to cherish it. As you opened your eyes, you promised yourself to make the most of the night and enjoy every minute of it. 
 Getting up from your vanity's desk, striding to the bathroom with some pep in each step, and starting to wind down for the night by getting ready for a relaxing bath. You entered the bath and soaked in the warm water, letting your mind drift as you reflected on the events of the day. You remembered what Elvis mentioned earlier today, that he'd be getting his hands on a new toy for the two of you. You weren't sure what this toy could be at all, but you were excited to find out. You trusted him to surprise you with something delightful, even if it meant not fully understanding it at first. However, as you soaked in the warm water, trying to relax, you just couldn't help but wonder if this new toy would be something intimate and sensual, considering Elvis' comment about it being an "adult" toy. Regardless of your slight inexperience in this area, you felt safe knowing that Elvis would be there with you. 
 Finally feeling freshened up, you hop out of the bath, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel before heading to the closet. Looking through it, you spotted your new pink babydoll nightie. You couldn't help but beam at yourself, your thoughts going straight to him. Taking it off the hook, you slipped it right on after putting on some simple underwear. You skipped  towards the mirror, admiring how the pink satin fabric draped over your curves and how the lace details accentuated your feminine features. You couldn't wait for him to see you in it, knowing he'd be pleased. He always told you how pretty you were in pink and how it brought out the rosy glow in your cheeks. You turned your back to the mirror, looking back at yourself over your shoulder with a playful grin, then blowing a kiss to yourself, feeling like a ditz just at the mere thought of his approval. Catching the time on the clock through the mirror, you gasped, realizing Elvis would probably be on his way right now. You rushed back to the bathroom and applied some light makeup and a little bit of eyeliner, just the way Elvis liked it. Before letting your hair down and brushing it out, your natural loose curls flowing against the midsection of your back. Finishing up and giving yourself one last glance in the bathroom mirror, your hand naturally reaches to touch the cross on your necklace, a comforting habit you've developed over the past months of being with him.
You take a deep breath, and as you are about to walk out of the bathroom, you can hear the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. You feel a flutter of excitement in your chest as you know it's him. You were probably so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear his arrival. Composing yourself, you slowly walk out into the bedroom, and there he is, standing with his side to you. 
 He turns to you, revealing a better view of his tall and broad frame, slightly pudgy but taut at the same time. As you approach him, you observe just how tall he is, towering over you. His big shoulders stretch out the fabric of his shirt, and his pudgy belly that protrudes just barely over his belt. You can't help but feel small in his presence. Shyly meeting his gaze, you notice a twinkle in his eyes through his glasses, and you can't help but wonder why he held both of his hands behind him. His deep, honey-colored voice echoed off the walls.
 You felt a sense of security wash over you as you listened to him speak. "There's ma sweet baby 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍." 
 You practically pounced on him, embracing him in your arms, they hardly reached to hold him all. You nuzzled your face against his hairy chest that was revealed by his open button up, breathing in his distinctive aroma of musk with hints of cigar and his cologne, feeling safe in his embrace. As he held you tightly, you felt like a kitten being cradled in his large and heavy arms. As you pulled away, you gazed into his eyes but everted them due to his intense stare.
 "I missed you." you mumbled as you coyly ran your little digits through his chest hair. 
He then held your lower back tightly with one of his broad hands and kissed your forehead. 
"I missed ya too, ma sweet angel," he replied in his thick, southern drawl. 
As he spoke, you could feel the vibrations of his bass voice reverberating through your body, making you shiver. You knew that no matter what happened, his embrace would always be your safe haven. He looked at you with such intensity that it was practically begging you to look away. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he were trying to communicate something without saying a word. It was both exhilarating and unnerving, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Eventually, you broke the silence. 
"What ya thinking about, bub?" you voiced as you poked at him in a girlish manner.
He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, breaking his intense gaze. You felt relieved but also a little disappointed that you didn't get to uncover the mystery behind those blue eyes. You spotted him looking at you up and down behind his spectacles, and you were overcome with a rush of shyness. You were conscious of how little clothing you were wearing in comparison to him—you were just wearing a pair of underwear underneath your babydoll and were barefoot—as opposed to how fully dressed he was. He kept staring at you, and you could feel your heart pounding and your cheeks flushing. While you were already his, it took some getting used to the impact he had on you. Sometimes he left you almost woozy with the way he handled you. You made an effort to keep his stare in your direction, but soon you had to turn away since the intensity of his gaze became too much to bear. He made a muttering noise and stretched out to firmly grasp your chin to make you look up at him. The coolness of his rings and roughness of his large hand on your warm skin was a dangerous sensation you enjoyed but knew you'd never admit it to him. As he held your gaze, you couldn't help but feel excitement. You wondered what he was thinking as his thumb lightly brushed against your lips, making you shiver with anticipation.
 "Yur jus tha prettiest lil’ thing, ya know that sweetness?" in a low tone. 
You nodded to him with your doe-eyes, trying your hardest not to break eye contact. While holding his gaze on yours, gauging for your reaction, he let go of your face and slowly lifted your nightie to reveal your undies he stroked his fingers over the waistline, letting his icy rings brush across your belly, giving you goosebumps. His face lit up when he saw your choice of underwear, a simple pair of white cotton undies. You couldn't help but be embarrassed by his attention, but you also wondered what else he was thinking as he looked at you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but you couldn't deny the little thrill you felt of being so intimately inspected. You felt exposed but also desired, and knowing that he was the only one who could make you feel that way made him even more irresistible.
 Letting your nightie drape over you once again, he held out one of his hands. You took it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his big palm against yours. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck and trailing kisses down to your collarbone that left tingling sensations behind. You closed your eyes, trying your best to hold back any noise that urged to escape. 
"C’mon, tiny, give yer ol' man ah lil’ spin," he encouraged whispering into your ear as he leaned back. 
 You agreed compliantly and did a twirl for him, your nightie flowing up a  bit and revealing your clad butt to him, which he whistled at with praise. As you spun around, you couldn't help but feel a rush of giddiness. 
He liked seeing you this way, it was like you were his own little doll. 
 You liked the sense of being entirely in his hands and enjoyed playing, exploring, and being pleased with him. As he continued to admire you, you felt your body responding to his touch, with that fuzzy feeling in your belly and your panties growing slightly damp. You were immediately distracted when you noticed that he still held something behind his back. You wanted him so desperately. The same ache could be seen in his eyes, but you quickly fought the tension that was beginning to grow between your gazes, leaving only want in its wake.  
 "So, w-what exactly is this new toy you were getting t-today..?" You stuttered out as you wriggled towards the arm behind his back in a kittenish manner, but he was faster than you and withdrew away before you could get a good look. 
"Now, darlin’, you go ahead and sit yer lovely self on that bed there and keep those pretty eyes closed f’me, hmm.." was the command he gave in that thick drawl you adored. 
With a sneer look on his face, he gestured to the side of the bed, and you realized there was no use in disagreeing with him. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, wondering what he had in store for you.
 "Alright, babydoll, now hold out them gorgeous things," he said once you were comfortable on the bed with your eyes shut. 
His voice made you shudder, and you extended out your small hands, palms up, as he asked. You could feel something heavy, metallic, and cold being put inside of them, and you couldn't help but want to have a look. You opened your eyes and gasped when you saw a black pistol gleaming in your hands. You were aware that Elvis owned a variety of guns, but since they were lethal weapons, he never brought them near you. You gave him a confused look as you glanced up at him with wide eyes. 
 "Goddamnit, honey, did I tell ya ta open your eyes?'' He voiced it sternly. 
 You quickly shut your eyes again, unable to utter a word. 
 As you sat there in your and Elvis' shared bed with a gun in your hand, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline. You had never held a firearm before, let alone a lethal one. Your heart was racing, and you could feel the weight of the gun pulling down on your dainty arms. You knew you had to trust Elvis, even though you were unsure of his intentions. You tried to calm your thoughts, but the fear of the unknown was getting overwhelming.
 Suddenly, Elvis broke the silence, seeing the way your hands were starting to slightly shake, and said, "Darlin', now go ahead an open 'em pretty doll eyes f'me." 
You slowly opened your eyes, still feeling the rush of adrenaline, and looked up at Elvis. He saw the rushing thoughts in your eyes, making him feel a twinge of guilt but also amusement. He took a few steps back, and it looked like he was admiring the view. 
"Would'ya look ah that, mah two stunnin' girls look great together." He gasped as he stared in awe. 
The way he referred to you and the gun as his girls sent a shiver down your spine, a strange mix of fear and excitement. You never expected to find yourself in this situation, holding a gun in your trembling hands. But deep down, your assurance in God gave you a glimmer of hope that everything would turn out okay. As Elvis looked at you and the gun, you couldn't help but feel a rush of confused emotions. Elvis was looking at your expression, and he couldn't help but be entertained by your confused state, but then he saw as your expression went from confusion to overwhelm. Your rookie self was sitting there with that cold weapon in your trembling hands, looking at Elvis with knitted eyebrows and a pout. He sensed your emotions were becoming too much for you and quickly moved to ease your distress. With a gentle smile, he reached out and gently took the gun from your trembling hands, placing it safely out of reach on the bed.
 "I ain't mean ta startle ya, tiny. I ain't gon hurt cha." He said it softly, soothing your nerves slightly. 
You nodded hesitantly, still unsure of what was happening.
 "Good," he ushered as he stroked down on your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. 
You took a deep breath and tried to process what was happening. So this was the 'new toy' he went to get today—a gun. Elvis was known for his extravagant gifts and gestures, but this was different. He had presented you with a gun, and although he said it was out of reach now, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You continued to observe him, searching for answers, but he simply leaned in closer. 
"I trust ya, baby," he said, his voice low and smooth. 
"And I need ya to trust me too." You couldn't deny the allure of his charm, but the fear in your gut was still present. You had no idea what he was implying here. 
"El-" you tried to speak before Elvis interrupted you. 
"Now before you say anythin' darlin', lemme explain. Last night, ..." he paused, "it's just I had a thought, and, w-well, maybe I was wonderin' if you'd like ta bring that beaut into the bedroom, hmm? What d'ya say?" 
 You were taken aback by Elvis’ request and unsure of how to respond. Your gut was telling you to be wary, but you also didn't want to offend or disappoint him. Elvis was now taking off his slightly tinted glasses and placing them on the bedside table. Your eyes connected once again with his sense of urgency.
 "I understand if ya ain’t comfortable with it," he said softly, his words rolling off his tongue like sweet velvet, "but I jus thought it'd be fun ta try s-somethin' different, somethin' new, together." 
You weren't sure why, perhaps it was the brief tingling sensation that still lingered after your body responded to his touch from the events that occurred not so long ago, but there was something about his request that gave you a rouse deep down. Pushing that feeling away almost quickly and coming back to your senses and reality, you wondered how a gun would do any good in a setting of intimacy, which led your thoughts to race once again. Handguns are made for killing, they are no better for anything else, as you thought. 
 Building up the courage to speak, you expressed, "E-Elvis, I don't really understand, why, why you'd want to involve an item like that i-in our intimate space." 
Elvis looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out sternly, "Only God knows why, hon', everythin' appears for ah reason, an that is why this idea was sent to me." 
You paused for a moment before timidly looking up at the cross that hung on the wall of the bedroom.
 "Sweetheart, look, you may not comprehend it right now. That may not appear ta be fair. But God knows what he's doin'." Elvis interrupted your thoughts. 
He took your smaller hands in his big ones and gently squeezed them, speaking, "Trust in the Lord with all yur heart, and do not lean on your own understandin', in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight ya paths."
He had just uttered the following words from Proverbs 3:5-6 as he stared into your eyes. It was clear that Elvis was trying to soothe you and help you find peace in your current situation. Giving the cross another glance brought you back to what you had promised yourself at the beginning of the night after prayer, 'to make the most of the night and enjoy every minute of it'. You pondered for a while and thought that certainly this was truly God's notion, and he was leading you to embrace this unexpected and confusing situation as an opportunity for growth and a test of your faith. He was telling you to fulfill that promise right now. 
 As you looked back at Elvis, you felt a sense of calmness and knew that with him by your side and your faith in God, you could handle whatever came your way. Elvis gave you an encouraging look after observing your train of thought. You took a deep breath and decided to let go of any doubts or worries and instead fulfill Elvis' request by taking a leap of faith. While you knew Elvis wouldn't harm you, you were still a little wary about what role that particular object might play in the night's events. Eyeing the firearm where it now lay on the bed. You felt Elvis' large hand come into contact and rest on your bare shoulder, and your head shot back to his face as he gave you a reassuring smile.
 "Don worry, doll," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and affection.
 "I promise it'll all jus’ be like ah playful lil' game." 
With a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness, you sluggishly nodded to him, “Okay-y then.”
He then went to remove his heavy blazer, slipping it off and tossing it somewhere on the bed. You flitched a little at the sudden movement but couldn't tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze. The uncertainty in your eyes was replaced by a flicker of fever as he approached, his confident steps inching closer to you.  As he stood in front of you, he bent down to meet your gaze as you sat still on the bed. His broad shoulders and tall stature seemed to loom over you, emphasizing how bitty you were in comparison. With a coy smile appearing on your lips, you began to play with a lock of your hair, feeling oh so fragile in his presence. He clutched the back of your head and pulled you in close for a passionate kiss. In your overwhelmed state, your hands fumbled clumsily, unsure of where to go. He pulled back, staring into your eyes, and with a rough motion, reached for your arm, pulling you to stand up from the bed. 
You couldn't help but yelp a tiny, "ouch." 
His grip still firmly on your arm, he went and sat himself down on the bed. He pulled you into him right away and made you lay on your tummy beside him, he handled you like a ragdoll and pulled you over so your lower body was draped across his lap. Your uncertainty and exhilaration were both palpable as you lay there, consumed by a mix of confusion and excitement. His actions left your mind spinning, unsure of how to react or what he expected from you.  You felt his big belt buckle rubbing against your bare thigh, as well as feeling his slightly protruding belly pressing against your upper thigh. In a way, it brought you sensations you didn't understand but liked. You felt his large hand rubbing up and down against your back thigh, going higher and reaching under your nightie to your clad bum as he firmly squeezed it. Feeling your face flush at this, though it wasn't new to you, you still felt shy at his actions. He scrunched the bottom of your nightie, pulling it up and revealing your undies to him. 
"My, my, you are jus ah sight for sore eyes, honey." You blushed even deeper as his words sent a shiver down your spine. 
His touch, combined with his compliment, made you feel excitement. You couldn't help but squirm slightly under his firm grip. As his fingers traced the edges of your underwear, teasingly exploring the delicate fabric. Suddenly, you felt the coldness of something gliding up your calf. You glanced over your shoulder to see him holding the gun. Your heart raced as a million thoughts ran through your mind. Was he really about to use the gun in such a way? You gulped nervously, unsure of what to expect next. His eyes locked with yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he brought the gun more upward across your leg, grazing the tip softly over your delicate skin. You slightly moved to lift your upper body, feeling overwhelmed by this new situation.
 Softly you stammered, "Wait... E-Elvis...". His eyes softened as he looked at your frazzled state. 
“I want no harm done ta ma baby doll, hmm, it's only ah little fun," he rasped out. 
"Y'know I'll always take care of ya.” he caresses you with one hand while the pistol rests in the other along your thigh. 
 You start to feel more at ease as he reassures you, and gives you an encouraging look. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts. As you glance down at the pistol resting on your thigh, you look back at him and give him a timid but sweet grin. While keeping an eye on the pistol, your gaze shifts to the cross on the wall in front of you, providing a comforting sense that everything will be alright. He steadily starts to bring the gun more upward, grazing it on your back thighs and in-between them, slowly inching higher until it reaches over your clothed backside. 
 Despite the unsettling nature of the situation, your mind becomes foggy and your senses dulled. That fuzzy sensation rises as he traces the contours of your back thighs and rear end with the cool touch of the gun, heightening a mixture of nerves and anticipation. He brought his other hand to your hair, grabbing it, making you turn to look at him, and the way he ran the gun across your body left a trail of goosebumps along your precious skin.  
 In that moment, time seems to stand still as you stare into his eyes, a mix of fear and curiosity swirling within you. You watch as he inches the gun towards your undies, dragging it slowly along the fabric, teasingly close to the sensitive skin underneath. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, as you wonder what he has planned next. Every nerve ending in your body is on edge, ready to experience the unknown.
 As the gun hovers just above the edge of your undies, you can't help but let out a shaky breath, a silent plea for reassurances. He eyes you as he starts sliding the pistol in between you and the fabric, his gaze filled with both mischief and desire. The cool metal of the gun grazes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His other hand lets go of your hair and brings it to caress the cheek of your face, lightly squeezing it. With one hand gripping the gun and the other now firmly holding your face, he leans back slightly, to admire you. The contrast between his strong, supple thighs and your petite frame as you lay across his lap sends a jolt of anticipation through his body. As you rest against him, you can't help but feel both breathless and eager for what lies ahead. He chuckles softly, enjoying your muzzy state and the way your lips are slightly parted. 
"Mah sweet yittle baby is doin' so good f'me." You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal. 
His deep, even-keeled voice sends shivers down your spine as you obediently keep still, not daring to make a sound. The weight of his hand on your face is both comforting and controlling—a reminder of how much you love pleasing him and giving your all to him. As he continues to stroke your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, you can't help but surrender further to his control. The intensity of his gaze holds you captive, his eyes piercing into your soul, leaving you feeling displayed and vulnerable. Every word he speaks feels like a command, and you are eager to comply, to show him just how much faith you have in him. He lets go of your face and directs his attention back to your clad bottom, the gun still grazing under the fabric on your buttocks as he inched closer to your dulcet parts. 
 But then he stops and reaches with his other hand, coming into contact with the waistband, and swiftly pulls them down to your mid thighs, revealing your bare ass, and slowly but firmly starts grazing the gun over it. Every nerve ending in your body is on high alert, acutely aware of your every movement. 
 Each stroke is calculated, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in its wake. As the gun traces its path along your rear, you can't help but feel a strange mix of pleasure and danger—an intoxicating concoction that leaves you craving for more. You feel a tad bit jittery but stiffen as you feel him bring the pistol along your tailbone and drag lower along the middle of your buttocks, going lower until he reaches that sensitive area between your thighs. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of your quickened breaths. 
 He notices your state and coos again, questioning softly this time, "Tiny's doin' such ah good job fer me, ain't she?" 
Your cheeks flush deeper with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you nervously nod to him over your shoulder, yearning for his approval. 
As he continues to explore the sensitive area between your thighs, you can't help but feel a ripple of pleasure and shock shoot through your body when he presses the cold metal against your heat.
 "Oh—mmph," you gasp lowly, your words muffled by the intensity of the moment. 
The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before—a tantalizing mix of pleasure and the forbidden. As he continues to tease you with the cold metal, your mind becomes consumed with a dizzying array of thoughts. You find yourself surrendering to the intoxicating pull, losing yourself in the overwhelming sensations that ripple through your body. 
Elvis sees this and smirks, his grip on the gun tightens, rubbing it against your sensitive core, as he slowly speaks, "You enjoyin' that doll? See, I knows what's best for ya." 
You're too overwhelmed to respond, the mixture of fear and arousal fueling a confusing rollercoaster of emotions within you. He takes a peek and sees how your flesh is pressed against the pistol, he lets out a low chuckle, seeing the slickness of your arousal starting to glisten along the gun. 
"Oh, y’dirty lil' girl." he murmurs out in his smooth voice. 
The physical sensations and his words, combined with the undeniable evidence of his growing desire against your thigh, heighten your anticipation, leaving you flushed. Your face probably looks like a tomato by now, but all you can do is bite down on your lip from the new sensations you're feeling. Elvis decides to push the boundaries as he brings the pistol back up along the middle of your ass, leaving your throbbing core, but this time he goes in-between your cheeks, catching a view of your small hole. You shift in his lap as you feel the cool air hit it, and your breath hitches in response. The charged atmosphere is heavy as Elvis slowly traces the outline of your anus with the muzzle of the pistol, teasingly applying gentle pressure. Your mind races with panic at the unfamiliar commotion, and you try to slowly crawl further toward the bed and away from his lap. He had never been so close to that area, and the intrusion by gun both jarred and frightened you, you felt it was getting too much for your little self. 
 "Wha-, no-o, not there!" you shrieked out in a high pitched voice, hoping he would attend to your plea. Elvis smirked, his hold on you loosening. 
"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered huskily, his voice appearing playful.
 "Is this too much fer mah yittle baby," he said, as he withdrew the gun from your prohibited area. 
You relaxed, still feeling the tingling in your belly but also having scattered emotions. He went and placed his heavy hand on the small of your back and leaned down to kiss your bottom before giving it a light slap.
 "Y’were so darn good, f'me doll." He cooed out as he gripped your arm roughly, lifting you up from your lying position along his lap. 
You stumbled slightly as he pulled you up, your body still feeling weak from the intensity of the moment. As he guided you to your feet, his grip on your arm tightening, you couldn't help but feel a mix of conflicting emotions, excitement, and danger. You balanced yourself, feeling your nightie drape back down, but then heard the slight noise of your undies hitting the carpet under you near your feet, causing a sudden rush of embarrassment to flood over you. You glanced down, and so did he, both of you eyeing the wet stain you had left on them from the actions that had just taken place. Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you quickly looked away, playing with your fingers. 
 He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of your damp undies. Elvis stood up from the bed and towered in front of you, his presence commanding the room. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he leaned closer, bringing his larger hand to gently pet your head. He then gripped your head towards him, his voice low and filled with a mix of desire and control. 
 "Did ya enjoy that, Tiny?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. Your heart raced as you met his intense gaze, unable to speak. 
You nodded silently, feeling a wave of anticipation and curiosity wash over you. 
His smirk broadened as he noticed your reaction—a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. Slowly, he released his grip on your head and leaned in, kissing your forehead softly. Then he took your lips in a slow, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. As his enormous hands wandered down your body, the intensity of the moment grew, causing your body to respond eagerly. Your brain goes fuzzy once more, as your nipples harden under your silk pink nightie. As his hands trailed down your smaller frame, his touch felt intense and electrifying. His lips left yours and began to trail a path of kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and to the hollow of your throat. 
Your breath quickened, mingling with his as he pressed his body closer to yours, the feeling of his pudgy belly and big buckle adding a comforting weight against you. His desire was evident in the way his large hands gripped your teeny waist. His bulge grazed against your upper abdomen, and a surge of anticipation coursed through your veins, heightening the electricity between you. You felt yourself growing hotter, the slick between your thighs was starting to ooze out even more, causing your legs to clamp together involuntarily.  Elvis caught this, and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. He leaned in closer, and brought his hand to squeeze your breast over the silk fabric. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His fingertips danced over the hardened bud, teasing and caressing, as his other hand trailed down your back, giving your ass a light but firm squeeze. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, as the heat between you became almost unbearable. You could feel his desire pulsating against you, almost matching the rhythm of your racing heartbeat. He then dragged his hand down your body until it met the hem of your nightie, his touch tracing the delicate fabric.  
The impatience built within you, as you yearned for him to explore further. His massive hand continued its journey, inching lower and lower, until it reached under and to the center of your innermost desires. With a tender yet possessive grip, he cupped your exposed, sopping core, sending a buzz of electricity through your entire being. He starts softly caressing your sensitivity, carefully switching between light strokes and firmer pressure. 
 "God, darlin', yur drippin' like honey down there," he whispered huskily in your ear. 
The weight of his hand, combined with the coolness of his rings, made it impossible to control the rising tide of pleasure that threatened to consume you. As he continued his intimate touch, you could feel the heat building within you, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through your whole body, making your toes curl and your back arch. Elvis eyed your expression, your scrunched eyebrows, shut eyes, the slight agape of your small mouth, revealing just how lost in the moment you were. He smiled mischievously and pulled his hand away from your heat, leaving you feeling a sudden void that sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze filled with amusement. The air around you crackled with anticipation as he leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing your earlobe. 
"How ‘bout we take this lil' nightie off ya, doll?" Your cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and nervousness as his words sent a rush of tingles down your body. 
With a subtle nod, you allowed him to take control, trusting him entirely. 
He gestured for you to lift your arms up, and he carefully slipped the delicate fabric over your head, revealing the curves and daintiness of your body beneath. His gaze seemed to appreciate every detail, from the suppleness of your breasts to the gentle curve of your hips. As the nightie hit the ground, you stood facing him, captivating him with your shy yet alluring presence. He brought his hands to your boobs, kneading them, causing a surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. 
He admired them in his large hands, "You jus got tha prettiest, perkiest pair ah titties I've ever laid eyes on," he whispered in his drawl. 
You blushed deeply, even though he'd always say the same thing every time he saw them. 
 He leaned down into your breasts and placed gentle kisses along the curve of each one, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled further down, exploring the softness of your stomach and the curves of your waist. You arched your back, allowing him to trail his kisses down your abdomen, leaving a trail of heat on your soft skin. He started lowering himself until he almost got to your heat. 
He looked back up at you as he spoke out, "M'gon take ah look at cha doll parts, ok? darlin'." His voice was filled with a mix of lust and tenderness.
 With a mumbled "A-Alright", you watched as he positioned himself lower between your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, before you interrupted.
 "W-Wait, I don't want you t'get h-hurt on your knees." Elvis having health issues, you couldn't help but worry and didn't want him putting strain on his knees due to his age. 
"Don't cha worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Daddy's takin' good care ah himself." He reassured you with a gentle smile, his hands caressing one of your thighs. 
The concern in your eyes lingered, but his words provided some comfort. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to your throbbing heat, and a mischievous smirk played on his lips. 
"But right now, I think there's sumn else that needs mah attention," he whispered huskily, "M'doll is lookin' so pretty an pink down here." 
You felt a rush of heat spread throughout your body as his words sank in. 
His touch on your thigh sent shivers down your spine, but you couldn't help but feel torn between his desire and your worry for his well-being. However, as his hand moved closer to your throbbing heat, you found yourself giving into his touch, unable to resist the temptation that lay before you. He grazed his fingers against your hot flesh, feeling you shudder under his touch. 
As he leaned his face closer to your heat, he mumbled, "So perfect, jus f'me." 
He stuck his tongue out, giving your cunt a slow, tantalizing lick that made your body arch in pleasure. The intensity of the moment washed away any remaining doubts as you surrendered yourself completely to the passion and desire coursing through your veins. A symphony of soft moans filled the air as he continued to explore every inch of your moistness with his skilled tongue. He reached over and forcibly pulled one of your legs over his shoulder while the other remained balancing your posture and allowing him better access to your throbbing core. His hands firmly gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delved deeper, swirling and flicking with expert precision. He pressed his face closer into your heat, feeling his nose graze your bud, sending electrifying tingles of pleasure throughout your body. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, causing your toes to curl up and your breath to hitch in your throat. Every sensation seemed to be intensified, with every touch and movement driving you closer to the edge of bliss. Your itty-bitty fingers found their way into his hair, pulling gently as you gave in to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing. 
 As he continued to devour you with his mouth, his hands roamed your trembling thighs, gripping them firmly as he held you in place. With each flick of his tongue and every gentle nip, the tension within you built, threatening to push you over the edge. You could feel your body arching towards him, desperate for release. The world around you faded into a hazy blur, leaving only its raw intensity.
 "Elvis-s...feels s-so good," you managed to gasp, your weak voice barely a whisper. 
The words hung in the air, heavy with desire and need. His movements became more fervent, his lips and tongue working in perfect sync to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the slight familiar heat pooling between your thighs, your senses heightened as you yielded completely to the pleasure he was giving you. The sounds of your tiny gasps and the lapping of his tongue filled the room, creating a trance of pleasure that echoed in your ears, only pushing you more over the edge. Your body trembled with need, yearning for release, as the intensity of his mouth consumed you. Every nerve-ending tingled with pleasure, the sensation was electric and intoxicating. 
 With each passing second, the climax grew within you, the waves of pleasure crashing against your core. Your nails dug into his shoulders, desperately clinging to him as you rode the wave of ecstasy. His hands, strong and sure, held you steady, supporting your weight as you surrendered to the dizzying pleasure coursing through your body. Lost in the moment, you gasped for air, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. His mouth continued its assault on your dripping cunt, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing your swollen clit. Every touch sent electric shocks of pleasure through your overstimulated body, making it hard to think or speak. You tried to push his head away, tell him you needed a break, that you were reaching your limits, but he was stubborn as he continued licking up your release and savoring every drop. The intensity of his actions had you teetering between ecstasy and displeasure, your mind going numb. 
 As you struggled to regain control of your senses, you found yourself yanking his hair and grasping at his shoulder, trying to bring him back up to your embrace, but he wouldn't budge. The conflicting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity overwhelmed you, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. 
 Finding your voice, "Too much-h..t'much, daddy-y." 
You gasped, your voice trembling with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of discomfort. His actions had pushed you to the edge, and you needed him to ease off, even if just for a moment. As you tugged at his thick hair, you could feel his lips curl into a devilish smile against your skin. His grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continued to ravish you with his mouth. The intensity of his action nearly blurred your vision, and he pulled away to give you a look. You felt relieved but were still in a gasping and quivering mess as he held your hips to calm you and keep you steady. 
"M'sorry doll, seems like papa bear jus can't get ‘nough uh yer sweet honey," he murmured, his voice filled with appetite. You give a timid smile as you try to regain thoughts.
 With a strength you had never seen before, he rose from his knees, towering over you. His eyes glimmered with a mixture of hunger and adoration as he stared down at you, you couldn't help but rest your body against his from slight exhaustion. In that moment, he saw you as his cherished doll, a testament to his faith in him and the divine guidance bestowed upon both of you.  As he stood before you, you noticed a subtle shift in his posture, he adjusted himself, making his bulge more prominent. You couldn't help but feel a surge of desire as his confidence and craving for you became increasingly evident. And as your fingers grazed across his hairy chest, finally breathing steadily again, he couldn't contain his passion any longer. 
He took hold of your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him and gently guiding you towards the bed. Lying your naked, slender body down, grabbing the small cross that hung around your neck, he paused for a moment, his eyes fixated on the symbol. The contrast of the saintly necklace against the sinful scenario heightened the vague nature of it all. With a passion fed by the shared devotion, he kissed the cross, then left kisses against your collarbone and chest, moving lower, leaving a trail of holy desire across your skin. The sight in front of you made you purr with anticipation, every nerve in your body aflame with a mix of excitement and a tinge of fright. And in that intimate moment, the boundaries between sacred and profane melted into an ecstasy that intoxicated both body and soul. As he trailed more kisses towards your belly, he looked at you, eyeing him, he got up from the bed, and you sat up slightly to see as he tugged at his tucked shirt from his waistline and started unbuttoning it. 
  Your heart races with suspense, desire igniting within you as you watch him undress. The sight of his pudgy yet strong physique only intensifies your desire for him, appreciating every special detail. In this moment, he is perfect to you, captivating you with his raw masculinity and genuine desire. As he finally removes his shirt, your eyes drink in every detail, savoring the sight of his wiry chest and abdomen hair. The beads of sweat already glistening on his skin only add to his allure, making him appear even more irresistible. He watches as you're in awe of his beauty, a smug smile appearing on his face. He knows the effect he has on you, and revels in the power it gives him. Slowly, he walks towards you, his steps deliberate and confident. You can feel your heart race, and your breath quickens. 
"Y'wanna try helpin’ me wit these, lil' girl?" His words flowed smoothly from his lips with that mesmerizing southern accent, the drawl adding a touch of charm to his request to help him with his pants. 
You sit up more and inch closer, your legs dangling from the bed as you try to gather the courage to respond. 
"P-Please, I'd like... to," you stammer at him sweetly in that soft voice he adores , your cheeks flushing with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. 
 As you reach out to assist him, your fingertips graze over the firm bulge in his pants, making you momentarily lose focus. You quickly retract your hand, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through your body. He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watches your reaction. Your cheeks grow even hotter as you meet his gaze. He stares into your doe-eyes, his smile never faltering. 
"No need ta be afraid, hon’. Y'seen him before," he says, his voice filled with a hint of mischief.
 You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure, knowing it would be the first time seeing it so up close. 
With a nervous laugh, you reply, "Yes, b-but... not like this." 
He can't help but chuckle louder, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. 
"Well, darlin', consider it an introduction then," he teases, his touch sending shivers down your spine. 
 Despite your flustered state, you manage to regain composure and slowly begin undoing his big belt buckle, the trembling in your hands being noticeable. As you struggle with the clasp, you can't help but notice the stark difference in the size between his buckle and your hands. His deep chuckle vibrates through you, a sound of amusement. With determined focus, you finally manage to loosen the belt, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. And reach over to his zipper, your voice small and shaky. 
"C-Can I...can I undo this too?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.
His eyes lock with yours, a mixture of adoration and desire shining through. 
"Uh course, my yittle baby can do anythin' she wants," he whispers huskily, his hands caressing your flushed cheeks. 
 You start bringing his zipper down, and as you do this, Elvis' heavy hand goes and gives your supple breast a light squeeze, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The touch is both gentle and possessive, sending a surge of electricity through your body. You can feel the heat between your legs rise as you continue to undo his zipper, revealing his hard on as it springs out, you can't help but let out a tiny gasp as it captures you with his size and girth up close. Despite not wearing any underwear, his arousal is evident on his glossy red tip as a bead of precum glistens at the slit. Your curiosity grows as you bring your shaky hand to give him a teasing stroke from base to tip, feeling the throbbing pulse of his large member in your hand. The combination of his commanding presence and your newfound control ignites a fiery desire within you. 
 Your heart racing, never having done this before, you looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
 "Is this-s okay?" you asked in a shy, uncertain voice. 
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. 
In his deep, southern accent, he reassured you, "Doll, ain't nothin' to be shy bout’. Yer doin' just fine. Keep goin' like that, nice an slow."
 As you held his cock in your hand, you marveled at its size and how it felt, barely fitting against your palm. With every stroke, you tried to mimic the rhythm you'd seen him do before when he'd spew himself on your tummy. The softness of his touch on your cheek reassured you, making you feel more at ease with each passing moment. As deep, low groans started flowing out of his mouth, you felt yourself grow more wet. His grip tightened on your cheek. The sound of his pleasure, mixed with the rush of the moment, sent shivers down your spine. You kept stroking him as you eyed it in front of you, glistening with anticipation. The sight of his throbbing member made your heart race, fueling your desire even further. His breathing became heavy, and the way his hips involuntarily bucked against your touch made it clear how much he was enjoying this moment as well. As you continued to stroke him, you felt his grip tug at your face to move closer to his manhood.
 Panic shot through you as you gazed up at him with wide eyes and knitted eyebrows, unsure of what he wanted next. 
"Awh, darlin’, don be scared," he whispered lovingly, his voice filled with tenderness. 
"Jus wants ya to give him some gentle kisses, show me how much ya adore me," he said, his words both soothing and tempting. 
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart as you processed his request. This was so new to you, you'd never felt his with your lips or hands before. Slowly, you leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his shaft. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and with a mix of nervousness and desire, you pressed your lips against him, planting soft, delicate kisses along the length of his throbbing member. As you pressed your lips against him, his scent filled your senses, it was a distinct aroma that aroused you even further, making your heart race with want. The way his flesh felt on your lips was like velvet—soft and smooth, yet with a subtle roughness that made it all the more exhilarating. You could feel his pulse throbbing beneath the surface, echoing the desire coursing through your own body. 
 He reached out to hold your face, making you look up at him as he ran a swipe across your lips with his thumb, "How bout' cha give him ah lil’ taste, baby," he whispered in a low, commanding voice. 
 The words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned with a mixture of nervousness, knowing it'd be your first time taking him in your mouth. With a shaky breath, you obediently parted your lips, allowing him to guide his throbbing shaft towards your waiting mouth. As the tip grazed your tongue, a surge of electricity shot through your body, causing your senses to heighten and your arousal to intensify. You could taste the saltiness of his arousal mingled with a hint of his musky scent, a heady combination that intoxicated you further. 
 As you slowly began to take him in, your mouth stretching and adjusting to accommodate his size, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort washed over you. You were a bit clumsy and couldn't help but gag a little at first, trying to relax and focus on your breathing. Your rookie inexperience was evident, but you were willing to please him. Slowly, you went just past his tip trying to find your own pace and rhythm. You felt him buck into you, making you tense up a little and unconsciously attempt to back away a little, he then firmly brought his broad hand to the back of your head. 
"Relax, f'me doll, jus wanna feel more of tha pretty little mouth," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. 
You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to panic as you looked up at him with your big eyes. 
 His grip on your head tightened slightly, guiding himself deeper into your mouth. Starting to gag, you struggled to maintain control and suppress the instinct to pull away. The taste of him overwhelmed your senses, and the musky scent of his skin filled your nostrils. As his hand continued to grip your head, his pace quickened, and you could feel his desire building. Your mind raced with a mixture of fear and arousal, unsure of how to navigate this new territory. 
 His other hand went to caress your face, giving it a soft slap, "Doin' so good, tiny," he groaned out. 
The sensation of his hand connecting with your cheek sent a jolt of conflicting emotions through your body. You felt the corners of your mouth starting to burn due to the stretch from his size, and you couldn't help but squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to handle, but you liked this, you liked the thrill of exploring uncharted territory with him. It was a delicate dance between pleasure and pain, and you found yourself surrendering to the unknown. As his hand continued to explore your face, you felt him trying to horse himself in deeper, but you weren't letting him as you brought your hands up to rest against his upper thighs.
 He brought his large palm to stroke your throat, breathing out, "C'mon, baby, r-relax tha itty-bitty throat ah yours."  
His voice was low and velvet-like, sending shivers down your spine. You hesitated for a moment, but you did as he said. As you did this, he bucked straight to the back of your throat, almost fitting his whole shaft inside. The sudden intensity took you by surprise, causing a gag reflex to kick in. You fought against it, as you let out a tiny cry that sent vibrations to his cock and only seemed to heighten his pleasure. The tip of your nose is just barely grazing against his pubic hair. The sensation of his soft curls against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body, fueling the fire that was already burning within you. 
You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his arousal filled the air around you. 
 As he thrust deeper into your mouth, your eyes began to water. The taste of him, slightly salty and intoxicating, lingered on your tongue, further abusing your senses. Your mind became a blur of sensations, the taste of him, the pressure against your throat, and the sound of his ragged breaths. He groaned above you, the sounds of your sweet muffled yelps and his cock hitting the back of your throat seemed to just rile him up more. But just as he was reaching the edge, he suddenly stopped himself. Harshly, he pulled out of your mouth, his length glistening with arousal and your saliva. 
 "Goddamn, honey!" he panted, his voice filled with lust. 
You gasped for air, your lips still tingling from his intense assault. Your eyeliner smudged from the force of his movements, matching the chaotic state of your mind. The taste of his saltiness lingered on your tongue, intertwining with the bitter sensation of adrenaline that coursed through your veins. You went to wipe your lips, feeling the mess of him and your drool covering your soft lips and chin, but he grabbed your hand before you could clean yourself up. His eyes locked with yours, and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, sealing the taste of him on your lips in a deliciously filthy embrace. He pulled back, seeing your puzzled state, and reached up to clean some of your smudged eyeliner with the pad of his thumb. 
"Lordy, girl, ya sure make this old man feel young again," he chuckled, his voice laced with passion. 
You felt a rush of warmth surge through your body at his words. Not having a chance to answer, he gripped your face closer, giving you a harsher kiss. 
As he pulled back from the kiss, his grip on your face tightened, and he forcefully guided you back down onto the bed. You let out a low gasp at his sudden roughness as you lay there, arousal coursing through your veins. The sound of his pants and buckle hitting the carpet was heard in the room, only making you more aware of the intensity of the moment. You couldn't help but bring your hand and rub your small digits over your cunt, the ache almost paining you. Elvis saw the way you were growing needier and needier, and he let out a low chuckle. As he climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifted underneath you, sending shivers down your spine. You glanced up at him with your doe eyes, feeling both needy and shy at the same time. His gaze intensified, and his lips still formed a smirk, he brought his hand down over yours and pulled it away to catch a look at your throbbing core, glistening with desire. 
"M’god, yur all rosy an swollen," he teased, and he went to cup it in his hefty palm, relishing in the wetness that coated his fingers. 
You felt your body jolt at his touch, showing just how sensitive you were. Your breath hitched as he continued to stroke you, his fingers dancing lightly over your pulsing center. Giving your pussy two light slaps to heighten your arousal, he chuckled lowly, reveling in the way you flinched. He pulled his hand away and positioned himself in front of you as he pulled your legs apart and made them bend so that your knees were raised, exposing your most intimate area more to him. You watched as he reached for something, a dark glimmer in his eyes. As he retrieved the pistol another time tonight, a rush of anticipation and fear coursed through your veins once again. 
"It's alright, doll. Only wanna have more fun wit cha." The mix of arousal and trepidation overwhelming you. 
"O-Oki," you mumbled softly after some time, your voice barely audible as you tried to steady your racing heart. 
 You watched as he moved closer between your legs and raised his arm over to your face, grazing the barrel along your cheek and slowly moving it towards your mouth. You look at him, and he gestures to open your mouth. You're hesitating, but comply. He swiftly inches the cold metal into your hot mouth as it grazes over your tongue, it tastes metallic and foreign. You can feel the weight of it against your tongue, the coolness spreading throughout your mouth. He slowly moves it in and out of your mouth, staring at him, his expression filled with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. As the cold metal continues to dance against your tongue, you feel him withdraw it as a string of your saliva comes along the tip of the metal. You can't help but shudder at the sensation, a mixture of discomfort and a strange, illicit pleasure. He brings the gun down along your neck, brushing against your necklace, then to your chest, tracing a chilling path along your skin. The metal's touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Bringing the gun to your breast, he traces it over your hardened nipple. You let out a shaky breath.
"Daddy-y," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire. 
He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he replies, "Does it excite cha, doll?" 
Your heart races as you nod, unable to form words. 
Your body hums with anticipation as he continues his tantalizing exploration. The cold metal trails down your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan threatening to escape your lips. He stops the gun just above your lower abdomen, his fingers gently tracing circles across your sensitive skin. 
His voice drips with seduction as he murmurs huskily, "You want more, don't ya, tiny?" 
Your breathing quickens, as you notice how close he is to your aching cunt. Gulping, you watch as he hovers it just above the bundle of nerves with a quick motion. You reach to stop him, your mind filled with hesitation. But he was quick to raise his hand with the gun in his grip. 
“Aye now, none of that babydoll, hmm.” he asserts firmly.
You brought your balled up fists to rest on your chest and gave him an understanding pout, letting him graze the gun on your bud. As he does, a mixture of fear and excitement surges through your body. The dangerous thrill intensifies as you feel the cool metal brush against your hot, sensitive flesh. Your soft whimpers escape in short gasps as he rubs the barrel along your outer lips. As the tension builds, his touch becomes more deliberate, tracing the outline of your entrance with the cold barrel. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you feel yourself tense up as you feel him trying to push the gun inside you. 
 "Wait, wait!" you stammered, your voice trembling with nervousness. 
"Is-isn't.. this, too dangerous Elvis?" you stumbled over your words, feeling hazy and disoriented. 
The rush of adrenaline mixed with fear creates a dizzying sensation, clouding your thoughts and making it difficult to articulate your concerns. He looked at you with a stubborn expression, his gaze unwavering. 
"Come on, darlin," he said, his eyes gleaming with desire.
 "'Member why wer doin' this hmm, the Lord struck me with this vision, and I ain't one ta ignore His call." His words echoed in your mind, intertwining with the doubts that swirled within you.
 The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders, he leaned in towards you. Placing his forehead against yours as his grip on the gun continues toying with your entrance for access. 
"No, no," you stammer, your voice shivering. 
"I don't— f-feels wrong." 
Fear grips your heart as his eyes bore into yours, a flicker of anger crossing his face. His grip tightens around the gun, pushing against your opening.
 "Don't cha understand?" he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and fervor.
 "This is tha path we must walk together, doll, guided by His will." 
Your mind races, the conflicting emotions tearing at your soul. You look into his eyes and see a glimmer of hope—of someone who believes in something greater than themselves. In the midst of the intense moment, mingling with your feelings of desperation, you seek divine guidance. You hold onto the belief that, through this unsettling path, you and Elvis are bound by a higher purpose, walking together under the will of a greater power. As the intensity builds, Elvis places a hand on your cheek, seeing how your racing thoughts are slowly starting to disappear. 
"Attagirl, trust in Him, in Me." he uttered in his soothing drawl. 
As you look into Elvis' eyes, you find solace in his words and the comfort of his touch. In that moment, you give him a nod and surrender to the newfound growing faith, allowing yourself to trust in a higher plan. The pressure against your center intensifies as he continues rubbing it with the gun. Despite the unease, you remain connected through the shared purpose and the touch of his hand on your cheek. You feel as he retracts the gun from your entrance and backs up along your clit trying to give you pleasure in the midst of your discomfort, his movements becoming more deliberate and controlled. The combination of unease and pleasure leaves you bewildered, yet strangely more aroused. Your mind struggles to comprehend the conflicting sensations, but your body responds instinctively, arching towards his touch. He watches as you enter a state of bliss once more, the pistol getting easier to glide along your folds from all your slick. Inching the gun back towards your entrance, he presses it against you with a firm yet gentle pressure. 
"Quit clenchin', honey," he grumbled, his breath tickling your ear. 
You try to relax, and let go of the fear that still lingers in the back of your mind. As he eases the pistol's tip inside you, the cold metal sends shivers down your spine, contrasting with the warmth radiating from your core.
 "Look at cha tiny, yur doin' purfect." he purrs out as he lifts himself from hovering over you to take a look at how your cunt clenches at the muzzle. 
 As he begins to move it in a slow, rhythmic motion, you can't help but be amazed at the conflicting sensations overwhelming your body. The fear that once gripped you tightly begins to fade away, replaced by curiosity. The coldness of it all sends shivers down your spine. Elvis feels a mix of satisfaction, desire, and a hint of surprise as he sees how your body responds to his actions. He puts more of the pistol's barrel in, so you're taking about two inches of the gun. You hear him chuckle as he sees how wet and heated you are, and your face flushes deep with embarrassment. He moves slowly in and out at a delicious pace that has you letting out low gasps and moans of pleasure. As the pleasure intensifies, every movement of the pistol sends waves of ecstasy through your body. The combination of fear and arousal fills the room, creating an electric and forbidden ambience. With each thrust, you tighten around the barrel, your soft gasps and moans blend into a symphony of pleasure, driving him to push slightly deeper into you. The sensation of the cold metal against your walls only heightens the intensity of the moment, as you surrender completely to the dangerous passion enveloping you.
 "Daddy-y..I-." You start to feel that heat pooling in the low part of your belly, spreading through your entire body, reaching your fingertips, and curling your toes.
 Elvis sees that you're on the brink of pure bliss and pulls the pistol out of your throbbing heat, leaving you feeling empty, his eyes filled with hunger. With a mischievous smile, he grazes the pistol against your folds and up to your bud, and you can't help but shudder with anticipation. The cool touch of the metal against your sensitive clit sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. As Elvis continued to tease and taunt, you grabbed his wrist with both hands, barely able to wrap around it and pressed the side of the barrel more firmly against your bud while slowly moving your hips upward. 
Elvis saw this and was amused, smirking, “Look at cha honey, goin' crazy over ah piece of metal.’’
 Lost in bliss, you didn't pay attention to his words, you were so drowsy from the feeling and trying to chase that sensation you craved again. This ticked something in Elvis though, he had gotten jealous over the thought of something else but him giving you such grand pleasure. He yanked the gun from you with a growl, and threw it across the room, you let out a whine while looking at him dumbfounded. 
"N-no, Elvis-s!" You stammer, your voice laced with nerves and frustration. 
"W-Why did you, you do that-t? I was almost-." 
His eyes narrowed, and his voice was filled with annoyance. 
"You was almost wha, huh? Y’were gettin' lost in some dang stupid piece ah metal!" 
You bite your lip, the familiar sensation of nervousness coursing through your veins.
 "but.. but you.." you stutter, confused. 
He shakes his head, his bitterness evident as he moves over so he's resting against the headboard, "I jus... I don like seein' yur little pussy gettin' all soppin' wet if it ain't cause ah me. I ain't gotta be competin’ with no damn gun."  
Your heart races as his words sink in, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. You bite your lower lip, feeling a sudden rush of excitement coursing through your veins as you sit up and crawl in front of him. 
"But," you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. 
"I-I was only feeling so, so good b-because you were there w-with me." you said quietly.
 His eyes darken with a dangerous intensity, and a smirk plays at the corners of his lips. His mood instantly switching again.
 "Is that so, doll?" he growls out. 
"I reckon, ya c’mere nd make me feel better then," he gestures you over to his lap with a swift motion. 
Your heart races as you obediently move closer, your body trembling with desire, but nervous hoping he wasn't still angry. As you straddle his lap, you can feel the heat radiating from his body, igniting a fire within you. His strong hands grip your hips firmly, and you can't help but let out a small whimper as you hover above his hard throbbing cock. 
"Why doncha give me ah sweet ride, darlin' '', his blue eyes dark with want. 
You gulp, feeling the weight of his words and the intensity of the moment. With a raised confidence, you slowly lower yourself onto him while holding on to his broad shoulders for support, gasping at the slight stretch. Still not quite used to his size, you feel your legs quiver. His deep groan echoes in your ears as he tightens his grip on your hips, guiding you lower. 
"Lord, honey, this lil' pussy needs sum stretchin'," he blurts out in a low tone. 
You let out a pitiful cry as you took him in fully, your bodies becoming entirely intertwined in a passionate embrace. 
"Oh...oh god," you whine, your voice trembling with pleasure.
 You feel Elvis slowly beginning to thrust upward into your dripping heat, filling you completely with every movement. Each thrust sends waves of intense pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you powerless to resist his advances. As the intensity builds, the rhythm of your bodies matches the beat of your racing hearts. With each deep thrust, you can't help but surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, your senses consumed by the touch of his skin against yours. 
Elvis whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire, "Y'feel so good, tiny. F-Fuck, can't get enuff of yuh." 
His words sent shivers down your spine, adding to the already intense pleasure you were experiencing. As he continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate, Elvis let out a low moan that echoed through the room. The sound of his moan only fueled your own desire, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your body arched against his, seeking more of his touch, more of his passion. 
 The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of his musky scent mixed with a hint of sweat, a potent aphrodisiac that heightened the atmosphere. Each breath you took seemed to draw you deeper into the moment, as if surrounding yourself with his essence would somehow bring you closer to him. The sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin echoed through the air, creating a trance of pleasure that drowned out all other thoughts.  
 As your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, you couldn't help but run your hands through his chest hair, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips. His groans filled the room, fueling the fire that burned between your legs. The feeling of his large arms wrapped tightly around your small waist provided a sense of security. You felt him ram into you deeper and couldn't help but let out a wail of pleasure as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, building towards an inevitable climax. His lips found yours, their touch igniting a fire within you that matched the one consuming your every sense. 
You pulled away, “Oh, I, I can-n feel it in m’tummy.” you softly cried out.
 "Is ma yittle d-dolly feelin’ all good in... er t-tummy?" He panted, sending shivers down your spine.  
 "Mhmm," you moaned, barely able to form words as the pleasure intensified. 
As his thrusts continued, the sensation in your stomach intensified—a delicious ache that made you yearn for it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling of desire ready to explode into an overwhelming release. He held you even tighter, his thrusts becoming more passionate. Your vision blurring, you felt his other hand glide over to your bundle of nerves, pushing you to reach your peak of ecstasy. Each movement drew you closer and closer to the edge, until finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. With a breathless cry, you shattered into a million pieces, waves of pleasure washing over you and leaving you completely spent. Collapsing onto his hard yet soft chest, your legs trembled above him as you both basked in the impact of your intense orgasm. You could tell he was still yearning for release, his need was evident as his cock still throbbed and thrust inside you. 
 Catching your breath, you felt him shift underneath you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He flipped you over onto your stomach, positioning you exactly as he desired. You gasped in shock, but your jumbled mind prevented you from fully comprehending the situation. The aftershocks of your orgasm only made you struggle to process what was happening. As he entered you again, every thrust sent waves of pleasure and confusion coursing through your body. His hands firmly gripping your waist, he guided the rhythm, leaving you vulnerable and powerless to resist. Although your mind was clouded, your body arched in response to his commanding touch, willing to surrender once again to his insatiable desires. The weight of him pressed down on you, enveloping you in a delicious mix of pleasure and submission. Every movement seemed to blur the lines between pain and bliss, blurring the boundaries of your own identity. His chest brushed against your bare back, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already electrifying experience. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine, making your breath hitch and mingle with his own ragged exhales. The occasional sound of a low, guttural growl escaped from deep within him, further fueling the fire that consumed both of you. And then, unexpectedly, another climax crept up on you, taking you by surprise and leaving you gasping for air.
"E-Elvis" you wailed out.
Your voice cracked with desperation, and your body quivered with the force of the pleasure coursing through you.
“Mmf, h-hang in there, baby.” He comforted trying to soothe your overstimulated mind and body.
He continued to move against you, his own release imminent, but he didn't falter in his rhythm, driving you to the edge once again. As your mellow moans filled the room, the air crackled with a raw and primal energy, and you could feel the intensity of his desire he was clawing at. The world seemed to blur around you, your senses consumed by the blend of pleasure and drowsiness. Your mind was clouded, lost in a sea of sensations that left you highly sensitive.
 Every touch, every stroke sent electric currents coursing through your body, heightening your pleasure to an almost unbearable level. The intensity became too much to handle, pushing you to the edge of sanity. You felt your body exhausted and your mind going empty, the only thing you could do was clench the sheets beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself in some semblance of reality. The room around you felt like it was spinning, a dizzying carousel of colors and shadows. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, the air feeling heavy and suffocating against your skin. He lets out a gnawing grunt, pulls himself out, and sits up on his knees. Swiftly stroking himself until he spews his release onto your ass. You feel a sense of relief and soreness as you try to come down from your powerful orgasms and still your breathing. 
 He chuckles weakly, spreading his cum over both of your cheeks with his smooth tip, "T-Tiny, yer lil’ booty sure looks even p-perttier covered with mah babies." he pants out.
If even possible, your face heats up even more at his witty comment, and you gather the strength to look over back at him through half-lidded eyes, the feeling of drowsiness and contentment consuming you.
 "D-did I do good, b-bub?" you murmur, your voice carrying a soft, low tone. He smiles wearily, his hand gently stroking your hair. 
"Y'did more th-than good," he slurs, his voice filled with exhaustion yet affection. 
You are can feel his weariness as he lies back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling heavily as beads of sweat glisten on his forehead. The room is filled with a comfortable silence and your breaths as you both bask in the aftermath of the erotic, hazardous experience. Slowly, he reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch tender and loving. 
"You were perfect…perfect f'me, sweet, yittle, doll," he murmurs, sleep already taking him. 
As his hand caressed your hair, you couldn't help but feel a sense of divine connection. The words wrap around you like a warm blanket, and you know that you have pleased him, fulfilled his message. The intertwining of the pleasure and fear you faced made you question the boundaries of your faith. Still drowsy, you inch closer to Elvis and rest your head against his fluffy, warm chest, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. You looked up at his face, his eyes were closed in peaceful contentment. The room is dimly lit, with the soft glow from a lamp in the corner as you both lay in each others mess. On the wall, the cross hangs, casting a shadow that dances alongside the gentle sway of his snores. You close your heavy eyelids, cuddling closer to his warmth, succumbing to exhaustion from the nights events as sleep overtakes you both.
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norman-fucking-reedus · 4 months
Text
Had this fabulous lighbulb moment where I thought of putting a submissive Daryl on a leash, and then I thought of giving him a mommy kink AND (drumroll) a little bit of a gun kink
THIS IS FOR ALL THE NEW SUPER HOT SEXY BABES THAT ARE ENJOYING MY WORKS AND FOLLOWING ME?? IM GONNA MAKE OUT WITH ALL OF YOU RN
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
ON YOUR KNEES FOR ME 💋
Extremely submissive daryl x female reader
(The yummy stuff: very light bondage, choking kink, mommy kink, slight gunplay(not loaded obvs), riding, did i mention daryl has a little praise kink?)
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Daryl had to learn the hard way that you were a woman of surprise, and he would never guess your next move even if he tried to. Almost every night that he came back to the house in Alexandria, you had a new activity planned for the night.
He was first greeted with a kiss, a short one that lingered on Daryl’s lips as he toed his boots off, anticipation already flowing through him.
Tonight, however, was going a lot differently than he was used to.
Instead of being greeted with your usual affection upon entry, he was met with the sight of you standing in the living room, playing with what looked like red rope in your hands.
The rope wasn’t the only thing he noticed.
You were standing tall in a pair of chunky black heels he had found you, a skimpy red skirt, and a lacy black cami. His mind was going a hundred miles per hour as he could feel his cock pulsing at the sight, blood starting to rush to his head.
His heartbeat picked up speed when you slowly walked over to him, heels tauntingly thumping against the hardwood floor. Daryl’s throat went dry, and he was at a complete loss of words when you stopped in front of him, eye level thanks to the heels. “I’ve been waiting all day for you, Daryl. Aren’t you gonna take your shoes off?” God, your voice was like warm honey as you spoke. He wordlessly kicked the muddy shoes off, eyes openly roaming your whole body.
“Hell’s the rope for?” He practically whispered the words, staring down at the red material. A wicked smile adorned your face. “Its for you” You giggled as you seductively wrapped your arms around Daryl’s shoulders, bringing the slightly rough material to settle at the back of his neck, gingerly wrapping it twice before giving it a pull and tying a knot, right at his adams apple.
He groaned softly as sweaty hands began to fidget with his belt, his nervous habit evident as you took a few steps back to admire your work. The simple yet alluring red rope hung gorgeously from his large neck, matching the color his face was turning under your gaze. You were throbbing at this point, mind filling with all the things you wanted and were going to do to this poor anxious man. Fuck, you had to go upstairs immediately.
You tugged at the rope a few times, checking for any discomfort as you had a brief moment of concern. “Is it too tight? Does it itch?” He shook his head to both questions, face burning hotter as he attempted to hide his embarrassment behind his curly hair.You gave him a soft, reassuring kiss, before you tugged the rope again, this time leading him to follow you upstairs, where you were going to gladly take his soul.
Daryl was getting harder by the second in his pants as you full on walked him like a dog. The way you had the rope woven between your fingers and clutched in your palm made his gut pool with pure arousal. His hands couldn’t stop fidgeting with his damn belt, although he was worried about you falling in your shoes.
The bedroom door closed and you turned to him, feeling a power surge run through your body as you saw the vulnerable state he was already in, still hiding his embarassed face with his hair as he stayed close to the door.
“Daryl. Look at me” You said it softly at first, standing with your arms crossed. He didn’t move the first time, eyes decicing to be glued to the way those heels made your legs look. His head was hazy with thoughts, his body was starting to hurt.
“I said, look at me” His head was suddenly pulled foward, and he stumbled a little, wide eyes landing on yours as he was yanked out his trance. “You should really listen to me the first time, sweetheart” You shook your head and made a face of disappointment, and it made his heart sink a little.
The last thing he would want to do was give you the feeling of dissatisfaction in the bedroom. He found himself stuttering out a weak apology. “M’s-sorry” You smiled at how small he sounded, staring straight into his eyes and down into his core, making him feel raw under your gaze.
“Get on your knees”
The request made Daryl’s mind finally draw a blank, blinking a few times as he searched your face. “Tha hell-“
“I said, on. your. knees. Don’t make me repeat myself thrice, country boy” You narrowed your eyes and shifted on your hips, watching intensely as Daryl slowly lowered himself down onto both knees, staring at your legs until the rope around his neck was roughly yanked again, tilting his head back and tossing all his hair, giving you a clear view of his face. His lips were parted as small whimpers came out, cheeks a deep red as he stared up at you, pupils blown so wide that there was only the tiniest amount of blue.
Oh, what a treat he was to look at down there. Fully clothed but obviously itching to get rid of them, especially with how hard his cock was straining against his already tight jeans. His hands had moved from toying with his belt to gripping his thighs, nails digging into the skin through the denim.
You felt yourself dripping at the sight, and slid your free hand up your thigh and past your skirt, flashing the wet fabric underneath. Daryl’s eyes watched intently. “Are you gonna listen to me the first time, or is this gonna be difficult?” He nodded quickly, and you pulled at the rope and shook your head. “Use your big boy words, baby” Daryl huffed in exasperation. “Yes! M’gonna listen to ya” You smiled at that and dropped your grip on the rope, walking over to the bed to sit on the edge of it and erotically spread your legs. “Come here, Dar” To which he automatically began to stand up on his feet, only getting halfway before the familiar sound of a handgun being cocked echoed in the room.
“Crawl.” Your tone was saturated in pure authority, and Daryl could only groan deeply as he lowered himself back down only this time, planting his large hands in front of him as he literally crawled towards you. You bit your lip as to not fuck him there and then.
He crawled until the barrel of the gun bumped against his forehead, eyes immediately landing on the wet spot on your underwear. The cold, metal weapon trailed down his face, and he had to surpress a moan as you did it.
You placed your leg over Daryl’s shoulder, watching his hands twitch where they now rested on the floor as they resisted the urge to touch. He had never been this goddamn hard in his whole life and it was starting to hurt. He badly needed some sort of relief, but it clearly wasn’t up to him.
“Take my panties off for me” You told him after what felt like forever, spreading yourself even wider as you watched his hands hesitated before running up your legs, gripping your thighs before he hooked his fingers around the hem of the soaked material and quickly pulled them down, lifting your leg off his shoulder briefly to toss out them out the way, eyes meeting yours for a split second. You winked and spread yourself open more.
Daryl’s eyed your dripping cunt like a predator, hands now firmly on your thighs. He wanted to be good for you, waiting a little impatiently for your next instruction, or hell even waiting for permission. “Think you can make me cum the first time? I wanna be able to give my babyboy special privileges afterwards” You looked so powerful above him, and his ears started to heat up when he realized he was super into this.
“J’st wanna please ya, make ya feel good” He panted lightly against your thigh, and you gently tugged the leash, giving him the permission he needed to finally satisfy his hunger, face disappearing under the short skirt.
Daryl had always been really good when it came to using his tongue and you couldn’t help but moan as he gave your cunt a few warm licks before settling on your sucking your clit, swirling the tip of his tongue around it as he did. You subconsciously keep a vice grip on the rope, keeping your boyfriends magical tongue right where you needed it.
You could tell that Daryl was starting to become to restless, and that’s when he truly got desperate for you. His cock was still painfully hard in his pants, and each one of your moans alongside the taste of you on his tongue went straight into his gut.
Daryl brought his two fingers to your folds, skillfully massaging and rubbing between the folds, feeling your slick drench his fingers enough that he slid them in, relishing in the moan he pulled from your chest. He could tell you were getting closer by the way you clenched around him, and the way you breathed shallowly. He sucked your clit harder, tip of his tongue moving against the more sensitive part of it, causing you to jerk your hips and pull him in closer.
The rope around Daryl’s neck got increasingly tighter with each pull, and he could feel his breathing becoming restricted in the best possible way and his dick was starting to leak, the tip of it becoming sensitive where it lay trapped against his stomach, smearing precum on the skin.
Your moans became loud, and your body began grinding down against him, chasing the feeling of your orgasm building rapidly. “You’re doing so good baby, making me feel so good” Your voice sounded more fucked out than expected. Daryl finally released his suction on your clit to continue using his tongue basically threw you over the edge, his fingers curling inside sent burning waves of pleasure through your body, and you felt your eyes roll back.
When Daryl emerged from underneath the fabric, his lips were slick, swollen, and red. It was the best look you’d ever seen on a man. “You did so good babyboy. I think it’s time to finally get you out these clothes” The sudden praise only added to his arousal as you slid you leg off and stood up over him, tugging the rope for him to stand as well.
You quickly but also slowly removed his dirty vest, sliding his shirt off and pulling out the rope, which looked delicious against his bare chest. Your hands unbuckled his belt, and instead moved to cup his boner, lips moving against his jaw as his hands settled on your hips, eyes fluttering shut as you squeezed him, making his tip leak profusely.
He could feel you working big hickies into his neck, hand moving to unzip his jeans so slowly while the other gripped his shoulder, keeping you steady on your heels. Daryl could feel the way he was losing his grasp on reality, internal breaking down as you gave him everything yet nothing at once.
“Y/n please hurry, I- I can’t take it anymore” He whispered, hands tightening where they rested on you. You pulled away from his neck and laughed to yourself when you saw the damage done. He might as well have gotten attacked by a walker. “But you can, Daryl. C’mon, lets get you full nude and on the bed” He groaned before moving to pull his pants off, cock finally springing free. The tip was a dark and angry red, precum dripping down from it. God, you wanted him inside you so bad. You chewed on your bottom lip as you spun him, shoving him down onto the bed and quickly straddling him, staring down as if he were prey.
When you rocked your hips back, warm folds sliding on his cock, Daryl shuddered and shut his eyes, the sensation already becoming too much. Somehow the gun had been discarded on the side of the bed, so you reached for it and pressed the barrel against his forehead, only this time around you pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked, and Daryl’s hips jerked at the sound, eyes opening and analyzing the way you held the weapon, only get that much more turned on when he realized you were using his gun. His cock tip throbbed as you continued rocking down on him. “I want you to beg. Beg for me to give you what you want, beg for me to fuck you” Daryl was so weak. He blinked back the feeling of tears threatening to fill his eyes as he stared into your face, burning the savory moment of you above him into his eyelids.
“P-please?” You tutted, hips beginning to slow as you cocked the gun again, other hand wrapped in red pulling it tighter around his neck, his vision blurred in the corners as he wheezed from the pressure. “Please! Mommy please just fuckin’ fuck me already I can’t- I can’t-“ He babbled, fat tears filling his eyes very much against his will.
You stared down at him for a moment, listening to his small sniffles and tiny gasps for air. “Mommy? Oh Daryl. How could I deny you when you ask me like that?” You trailed the gun down to his chest, watching the way it rose quickly before placing it on the pillow next to him, needing both hands in order to ride him properly.
His heart pounded erratically as you gripped the base of his cock, tauntingly lowerly yourself as slowly down as possible, making sure he could feel everything. By the way his hands dug into your meaty hips, it was definitely working.
You gave a few small bounces, rolling a few patterns with your hip. Just as you were about to fully slam down onto him, you realized your top was still on, and Daryl was fixated on your perky nipples. You quickly pulled the garment off, and tossed it onto the floor. Now you could really get busy.
A strangled cry ripped from Daryl when you lifted yourself up to the tip and dropped back down, moaning at the way he perfectly jabbed into your sweet spot, hips moving at a needy pace. The room filled with so many erotic noises, and they each fueled Daryl’s already throbbing cock. Fuck, he felt so goddamn incredible, head lulling to the side as nothing but pleasure pumped through his veins.
You could feel the harsh throbbing of his dick inside you, beginning to breathe heavily as a burning sensation licked through your thighs, however that didn’t slow the hardcore pace you set for yourself. You redirected Daryl’s head to face you, as you wanted to see his adorably scrunched face, tears rolling down his red cheeks. “Feels so good mommy, ya feel so fuckin tight and wet around me” The name was starting to do things to you, even more than the way Daryl was sloppily rambling, hips jerking upwards as he started to climb his peak. Right as he felt himself about to topple over, eyes rolling in anticipation, you ceased all movement.
Daryl’s eyes flew open and he whined desperately. He opened his mouth to plead with you more, and felt the rope become increasingly tighter, a hard, strained moan fell past his lips as he was now barely getting air, hands shaking as they reached to grasp at the rope. You furrowed your brows, worried that he genuinely needed to get some air. As your hands joined him to losen the knot, he shook his head. “No! J’st- please… please keep goin” One of his hands gripped your wrist where it rested on his neck, adding more pressure on it. He was so,so gone, even more so when you began to bounce on his cock again, this time, using his marked neck to help you keep steady. He was blissfully running out of oxygen.
His vison began to darken, heart pounding loudly in his ears as all he could think and feel was you, you, you. His hips once again jerked, chasing so desperately after his own release, you knew just how badly he needed it. Once again, you stopped moving, pulling your hands away from his neck and feeling his chest rise at the large gasps of air he was taking.
“C’mon momma’s baby, I know you can handle this and it’ll be worth it in the end” You whispered against his lips as you beckoned him to sit up on his knees, turning to lay face down, ass up. Daryl wasted no time as he bent over you, large hands resting on either side of your head as he snapped forward, burying himself back in your warm cunt. The rope spilled out in front of your face, and you instinctively grabbed it, giving Daryl the impression you wanted him to go much faster.
It felt soo good to pound deep inside you, panting heavily as the rope once again constricted his breathing, and the urge to cry from sheer pleasure had become strong. You moaned freely as he railed you, the lewd sound of him wetly sliding in and out of you filled the room, filled his head. You could tell he was right on the edge when his body began trembling and his head fell into the crook of your neck, biting down hard on the flesh.
When you gave a final tug on the rope, it was all Daryl needed in order to finally exploded, tossing his head back as he gripped your hips and pulled out, moaning deeply as he rutted between your slick folds, blushing as he watched himself cover your red cunt in cum, still rocking against you.
He almost immediately collapsed onto the bed, breathing harshly as you shuffled to undo the knot and take the rope off him. You could feel his release smearing and running down your thighs. You sat on the edge of the bed and kicked the heels off, sliding the skirt off and not caring as you used it to clean the mess between your legs. “I liked that skirt” You heard Daryl mumble, as he had been watching your every move.
You sighed and climbed into the bed with him, dominace officially leaving your body as Daryl wrapped you up in his arms, kissing your neck softly. “Ya never cease ta amaze me” He whispered, voice hoarse and heavy with sleep, you smiled softly as you gazed upon his sleepy face silently for a few minutes.
“You amazed me with your mommy kink for sure”
“Shut up and go ta’ sleep”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
I so badly just wanna consume his entire body like I literally wanna start tearing into his flesh like a fucking walker and spend my whole day fulling ingesting him into my body so we can forever be one #girldinner 🎀
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
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hotpinkstars · 4 months
Text
-> shenhes reaction to different love languages
synopsis -> how shenhe reacts to different love languages. pretty self-explanatory.
w/c -> 1.5k
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-> quality time
as we all know, shenhe is certainly not one who knows love. so when you first introduced the topic of quality time to her, she just kind of cocked her head and looked at you. she was someone who quite literally needed assistance to keep her homicidal nature at bay, and you were someone who could barely harm a flee. why ever would you want quality time with her, she thought? although the both of you are a couple, she won’t ever understand all of that stuff that normal couples do. 
it takes a minute or two (more like a couple futile attempts) to get her to open up to spending a lot of time like that with you, but once you get her to maybe get a bite to eat at a cuisine in the harbor, she warms up to the idea a little bit more. she still doesn’t understand why couples like to do this- she was put under the impression of relationships being kissing, hugging, and sleeping together. 
soon enough, she’ll be the one to request to do some of these things that you showed her. depending on how much she wants it, you might have to take the hint, or she’ll just blandly tell you directly. 
“i would like to grab a meal in liyue harbor like we did last week.”
“shenhe, it’s two in the morning… but as soon as the sun rises, sure!” 
well, she’s sure got the spirit!!
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-> words of affirmation
the first time you even said something as simple as “i love you so, so much,” this woman kind of just froze and asked you to repeat that. 
she doesn’t get it. she probably asked you why people say that at first, and then she got it. she already kind of knew, she just wanted to be sure she heard you right. and that she did. a few minutes after you said that to her she could feel a nice warmth in her chest and a little grin coming onto her face. 
even things such as “i love the way you did your braid today!” make her feel so grateful that she was able to date someone such as you. sometimes cloud retainer wonders what's got her in such a good mood these past few months, considering how sour she sometimes can be.
another one she tries to reciprocate once she gets used to it. (spoiler alert: she does it for all of these lol.) she’ll sometimes tell you that you look particularly nice that day. in her eyes, you look glamorous every day, but she saves that for when you two go to a fancy restaurant and you’re all dressed nice.
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-> acts of service
acts of service for shenhe seem pointless in her eyes at first. she has learned to take care of herself, why should she need someone else to do the things she does for own good for her? she can make her own bed, she can put toothpaste on her own toothbrush, and she can cook her own meals. so, when she first saw that the bed was all made, the pillows were fluffed, and there was already toothpaste on her toothbrush from when you were last in there, she seemed a little.. shocked? it was very hard to tell what she felt, but she felt, once again, a warmth in her chest. she came out of the room to ask you about it, and saw you making breakfast. 
“well, i just decided maybe you’d like it! if you don’t, i can stop…” 
“well… i.. really like this.. act of kindness. but i do not know if i understand it yet.”
you laughed and motioned for her to sit down as you served two plates and decided to chat her up a little bit about what you were going to do that day. she ate her food with a small smile, and engaged in the conversation. 
sometimes, she’d come home to find little samples of some foods she likes with a little note on the side of the plate saying something like “i made something i picked up on you liking. i hope you enjoy it!” 
this was one she decided to take little steps to show. she’d do basics that she didn’t even realize she was doing before, like tidying up the room a little bit or putting the dishes away or folding the blankets. all she knew is that it made you happy to see the house so nice and clean, so she continued to do it whenever she was available to. 
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-> receiving gifts
talk about something she isn’t all that familiar with.
the first time you put a little trinket in her hands- for instance, a keychain, she just looked at you curiously. 
“what is this?”
“oh, nothing really. i just thought it would be cute to dangle from your vision. see, it even matches your hair color!”
she handed it back to you and told you to hook it somewhere on her vision. she looked at it with a mirror and a kamera, smiling gratefully, even though she didn’t think it was all that necessary. she got used to your constant gift giving though, and, once again, didn’t understand what the occasion was, she still cherished them silently. the first time you gifted her something bigger, like maybe a pair of heels, she thought she missed something.
“y/n, what is this for? is there some occasion i am not aware of? it’s not your birthday, or my birthday, or our anniversary… is it maybe a holiday?”
“nope!” you replied. “just saw them on sale in liyue. i bought them because they looked like they matched your style!” 
she took another good look at these and put them in the closet. you saw her wear them with her combat outfit a few days later, indirectly trying to show them off to you.
she’ll try and get you gifts too, but she’ll go to the traveler or cloud retainer for help. the traveler has met you a few times, so he/she probably knows what you like just based off of how much shenhe talks about you, and just by your bubbly personality. 
paimons always the one bringing the gift idea up to shenhe. if she likes the idea, then the gift will be given to you as early as possible. 
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-> physical touch
if she’s gonna be starved of any of this, it’s gonna be physical touch. she’s gotten a few pats on the head or shoulder by cloud retainer or her fellow adepti companions whenever she’s done something well, but that’s the extent of it. she has never been tackled to the bed and cuddled before, she’s never really been hugged, and she certainly hasn’t slept in the same bed in a super touchy manner with anyone else before you. 
the first time you rolled over to her side of the bed and latched onto her back, sliding your arms around her waist and propping your head on her shoulder, she was understandably stunned. at first, she tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let her. so, she was stiffer than a board the rest of the night to be careful not to roll on top of you, and immediately brought it up to you in the morning. you told her it’s just what you do, and was always what you did since you were a child- you felt the need to constantly hug something in your sleep, and you decided to hug her. she just slightly nodded, still not understanding, and walked away for a little while to process what happened the night before. 
she’ll eventually be much more open to the idea of allowing you to rest on top of her or hugging her, still being fairly stiff. but the first time you asked her to rest her head on your chest, she declined, saying she was “too strong and could potentially cut off your airways if she wasn’t careful.” you brushed that thought off and slightly begged her until she sighed and very slowly let her weight fall onto your body. she genuinely liked the way this made her feel, and continued to do it much more often- when she was sad, upset, stressed, or just felt the need to lay on your chest for a few minutes.
when it came to hand-holding or hugging, she wasn’t opposed. she just made a strict rule that there is no hugging or cuddling in public. you agreed, and only did those things when you both knew that there was privacy. the last thing the both of you wanted was to scare each other off. that would be crushing to both ends.
 she was much more open to cuddling and hand holding and all that comes with it later into your relationship- you realized she was a woman who needed an indescribable amount of patience, and that you were willing to give.
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pinkcandyhearts04 · 6 months
Text
morning quickie | johnny cage x reader
johnny has an early morning meeting and you don't want him to leave yet
18+ ACCOUNT AND POST, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
im not 100% fan of no johnny whimpering but this is a quickie, he dont give a damn about NAYTHING
warnings: afab reader!, degradation if you squint, not men whimpering but a 3rd more desperate thing, porn without plot, do not read this if you actually want some story
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"leaving already?" johnny glances over his shoulder at you, giving you one of his signature smiles. your arms wrap around his waist as you bury your face into his back, sighing softly as you feel the way his chest rises and falls with every breath he takes. "i have a meeting with my manager. he's already pissed of as it is." he chuckles softly, his hand finding one of yours and squeezing it gently. "he can wait a little longer, can't he?" johnny can't help but laugh a bit at that, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. "don't tempt me with a good time. but unless you want us to start taking public transportation, i should go and see what he wants." you pout a bit when johnny manages to leave your grasp, even still turning to press a kiss to your forehead. before he can pull too far away, you grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him with a passion that sends a chill down his spine.
he barely makes any attempt to pull away, a soft grunt leaving him before you break the kiss. a string of saliva connects the two of you, staring into each others eyes; you can see that all too familiar flame, a mischievous smile spreading on your lips. "fuck it. i can make this fast." you can only manage a quiet giggle when johnny kisses you, hard and wanting as he starts to tug off your shorts; he doesn't dare to take off his button down that's practically hanging off of you, a simple piece of fabric doing things to him. you don't make any attempt to stop him or even make him slow down, gasping when two of his fingers start to pump into you fast and without much warning. "fuck, so wet already..it's not even 10 o clock yet." he groans softly, letting your shaky hands start to undo the buckle of his belt. once he's sure you're ready, he wastes no time in flipping you onto your stomach pressing your face into the covers. his free hand holds your hips up as you squirm underneath him, trying to get some friction already.
"shh, let me do this, hot stuff. you wanted this so bad, you enjoy the ride." johnny snickers, collecting some of your wetness on his fingers to stroke over his cock. without a second to think, johnny pushes into you up to the hilt. the two of you moan in unison at the heat growing between you two, making you bury your face into the sheets as he rocks his hips into you with a rough pace from the get-go. soft gasps leave you every time he pushes back into you, your fingers gripping the sheets at the sound of his groans behind you. "fuck, baby, so fucking tight.." he grumbles, his hand holding your head down now trailing to your breasts. he gropes one of them roughly, making your back arch as you start to match his pace with your own hips. "goddamn, feels like you were fucking made for me.." with how erratic he starts to move, you can tell he's close. soft pants leave johnny as you look over your shoulder at him almost the same he had looked at you only moments ago, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes. "w-wanna..cum, wanna cum a-at the same time.." you whine out softly, your pleading voice only further cracking johnny's resolve.
johnny groans as his hand almost instantly moves to your clit, rubbing rough circles against it. that motion alone elicits a loud cry from you, turning to jelly in johnny's hands as the other hand not playing with your clit holds you up. "j-ohnny..." you whine, barely able to make out any words as you feel the coil in you start to unravel. "i k-know, dollface, i know, fuck.." johnny groans, finally letting loose as he presses his hips flush against yours. you let a long, desperate moan when you cum only seconds after johnny, feeling the way he seems to almost endlessly fill you up.
idk how to end this lol, johnny aftercare is not my strong suit although i know he would DEFINITELY BE GOOD AT IT
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dixondystopia · 3 months
Text
From the Forest: part 1
Masterlist
~Meeting Daryl in the woods~~Daryl Dixon x Female Reader~ This is just set up for the rest of the story :)
Warnings: Typical Walking Dead violence/abuse, references of past and current abuse.
Word count: 2747
-The divider is my own-
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“Yo, Y/n!” A voice called out to you from the path.
You were out washing laundry the old fashioned way, a bucket full of water and a washboard, squatted down next to the creek. Your arms were soaked to the elbows, your short sleeved shirt speckled with water droplets that had already sunk into the fabric.
Your head turned to see a guy walking down the path to you, a familiar yet not entirely friendly face. It was the spunky ‘kid’ from your camp, and you searched his features in an attempt to remember his name. Short black hair, skinny, rounded face but his cheekbones were sunken. Ahh yes, the kid who always seemed to be sporting a black eye, Randall.
He smiled at you. “Hunter wanted me to tell you that we are headed out a bit for some target practice… You mentioned you wanted to learn, so I guess he remembered that.”
You watched him for a moment, smiling. You were weary about this camp. You had only been here for a few days, but some of the guys here did not seem like the friendly type. Most of the women were decent though, and you had actually made ok friends with some of the wives here. But hey, a little target practice would protect you from the randos right?
“Great! Who all is going?” You ask, turning back to the washboard and continuing to scrub down your clothes.
“Just a few of us, me, Hunter, Gabel…” Randall said. “And a couple other guys I don’t know the names of.”
You nodded. “What about Mavis and Margaret? They mentioned they wanted to learn.”
“I dunno, they might be coming,” Randall said. “Hunter can tell you the details, I've got to finish my chores. We’re headed out in an hour.”
You looked at him. “An hour? It’ll be dark by the time we make it back.”
Randall nodded, seeming slightly hesitant. “Yeah, but they wanted to go huntin’ first thing in the morning… Right now is the only time they could fit it in.”
You hesitated.
“Look, you want to learn or not?” Randall said. “If you do, meet us by the supply tent in 45 minutes…” And with that, Randall left you sitting there.
You looked down at your wet clothes against the washboard. You really did want to learn: it was the only way you would be able to defend yourself out here. Not to mention, the people in the camp hadn’t given you a reason to doubt them before. If they thought the best time to go out was now, who were you to argue?
40 minutes later, you met Randall by the supply tent. You had gotten changed out of your wet garments and into more durable clothes, and a pair of hiking boots someone had found that was surprisingly in your size.
It was only Randall and a couple other guys there so far, people you didn’t know the names of.
Randall smiled, getting off of the truck bed he was sitting in and walking over to you. “Well aren't you early.”
You returned the smile out of politeness. “Better early then late,” You say, looking at the other, bigger guys standing there. “What guns will we be learning with?”
They exchanged a look with Randall, and Randall looks back to you as he walks over next to the guys. “Just some basic stuff, pistols, rifles if you're feeling brave. Hell, even a crossbow if ya want it.”
You chuckle, leaning against the truck next to him. “Crossbow would be quiet.”
“Yeah, but ya have to hunt down the arrows and that’s a whole thing,” Randall pointed out.
You nodded your head in a so-so manner. “True.”
You and Randall continued the small talk for a while. It was nice to chat with someone about simple things, and the longer you talked the more you trusted Randall. He was just a funny, spunky kid from no-wheres-vill, who probably couldn’t have survived a day without this camp. That didn’t matter though, he was still an ok guy to chat with.
Soon another guy, Hunter, the ring-leader of the camp, approached the truck with another guy behind him. “Y'all ready?”
The other two guys nodded with a smile, and Randall gave a thumbs up.
Hunter turned his attention to you. “You ready to learn?”
You nodded, “Yes, more than ready.”
Hunter gave a curt nod. “Good. Let’s roll out!” He announced, and the guys gave a whoop of agreement.
How you got stuck in the backseat, you didn’t know. Randall was on your left, some other guy on your right. Hunter was driving, his second in command in the passenger side. The last guy was begrudgingly in the truck bed, watching the grass go behind them as they drove.
Being surrounded by the big guys was making you uncomfortable enough, not to mention their smell. It was clear to tell that they hadn’t bathed in at least a month. Randall kept looking over at you with a small smile, which was nice in a weird way. From what you had seen today, and around the camp, he really did just seem like a spunky kid getting dragged along in all of the bigger guys stuff. Like a sidekick almost.
It was a half an hour before Hunter pulled the car to a stop, removing the keys and shoving them into his pocket. The truck had driven through a field before finally passing some trees. When the trees got thicker and thicker, turning into a forest, they parked.
Everyone got out of the vehicle, grabbing out some guns. Actually, you counted five guns, but there were six of you. That struck you as odd, but figured that you didn’t all need one at once.
It was another half our hike before you all made it to a small clearing. It was one large cleared out circle, a small pile of ash in the middle. This was one of their campsites for hunting.
You smiled, breathing in the smell of fresh air. It was heading towards dusk now, and the whole forest was getting darker.
“Now you gotta be careful, don’t go wandering, this forest is full o’ Walkers,” Hunter said, and the other guys chuckled. You didn’t respond. Was that supposed to be a joke?
“So where do we start?” You asked, and a couple of them smirked.
Hunter nodded his head to the side before stepping back into the middle of the clearing. “Come over here and we’ll show you how to load one.”
Randall was behind you, hands on his hips with a small smile.
You glanced around, taking a cautious step forward, following Hunter.
Your internal dangor radar began going off as Hunter looked at you, a smirk on his face as he stepped slightly closer. Before you could do anything, he took a hold of your arm in a hard grip, putting his face close into yours. His other hand snaked down, holding your hip.
“Hey! What are you?!” You struggled against his hold, only making his grip harder, his knuckles turning white, your hand tingling as the blood flow was cut off.
You looked around at the other guys, who were approaching you now. You looked towards Randall with panic, but he was still smiling.
Flight or flight kicked in immediately- your breath and heart rate speeding up, eyes wide with fear.
You sent your knee up into Hunter's groin, slamming it between his legs.
He immediately let go, crumpling the ground.
One of the other guys took a grip on your other arm, pulling out a knife from his pocket. Before he could do anything with it you yanked your arm free, catching his knife in the process, the blade running down your arm, leaving a large cut. It immediately started bleeding and the pain set it.
You turned and started to run, someone catching a fistful of your shirt. You turned on your heel, turning your hips and punching him square in the face.
Randall reached for you himself, and you ran.
You ran, crashing through a set of thorny vines, cutting up your legs through your pants.
“Where you goin’ girly!!” One of them yelled, and it was followed up by another guy laughing.
“Tons o’ Walkers out there girl!!” Another yelled. They were whooping like animals.
You ran, feet coming down against the ground hard with each step.
They were right behind you. You could hear them.
You passed one, maybe two Walkers who were attracted to all the noise, but instead of going after you they went after the loud men chasing you.
You heard gunfire, and your hands immediately covered your head, ducking as you ran. They were shooting at Walkers, but you didn’t want to get caught in the firing.
The forest was getting darker and darker.
You could hear stray animals in the distance coming to life in the night, owls, dogs, Walkers… But more importantly the people behind you, chasing after you. The people who had lured you into the woods just to use you then discard you…
The sun…
Finally…
You could tell by the brightness of the forest that it was getting to be daybreak.
Your running had turned into walking, then finally desperate stumbling throughout the night.
The men had given up following you after an hour or so, hopefully heading back to their camp.
Exhaustion was setting in now, your feet sent sharp pains through your body, and you felt weak with blood loss from your arm. You had taken off your shirt, wrapping it around your arm desperately in an attempt to keep it from bleeding out… But it was soaking through your shirt slowly.
You shivered again. It was Georgia, so the warmth of the day would be back in no time, but being in just a sports bra was making you cold and exposed.
Your head felt fuzzy as you wobbled along.
Footsteps… Behind you?
Growling. Groaning. The hiss of a desperate long dead thing searching for its next meal.
You stumbled somewhat faster, seeming like a toddler desperately staggering about to keep from falling.
One root- boot getting caught- and you fell to the ground with a groan, rolling onto your back, trying to catch your breath as the Walker stumbled above you, its drooling maw opening and closing as it hissed.
You squint your eyes shut, holding your hands up, bracing for the impact of the Walker above you…
Thunk.
You opened your eyes as the world started spinning in circles, the Walker collapsed on the ground, an arrow sticking out from its mangled eye socket.
You look up, taking breaths as the world kept doing its pirouettes.
All you saw was a figure- a silhouette of a person as the sun was rising behind them.
You heard the voice of a man, his tone low and accent thick, as the world faded away in a dance of swirls.
“Ya’ ok…?”
Birds… Light…Trees?...
The world slowly came into view, your eyes fluttering open. You took a slow moment, watching the birds hop around in the trees above you before you fully came into consciousness.
You sat up slowly, wincing once, looking over at your arm. It was wrapped in a chunk of fabric, your torn shit, but better tied together so it wasn’t bleeding anymore.
“Ya’ bit?” A husky male voice asks, and your head turns towards him, eyes focusing against the brightness.
It was a man. He was holding a crossbow, an arrow clicked into place ready to fire, pointed at the ground. He had a small amount of stubble, squinted eyes, and unwashed brown hair. He was wearing a vest. It was buttoned up, but it was clear that he wasn’t wearing anything under it. His pants looked pretty scuffed up, too.
You watched him for a moment, taking in what he looked like, deciding if he was a threat.
“Ya’ bit?” He repeated, a little more forcefully this time.
“No,” You muttered. You were startled by your own voice, it was hoarse, your throat dry.
“Scratches? What are they from,” He grunted, watching you from above.
You squint, thinking back bitterly. “Men.”
He squinted at you. “Men…?”
“Not Walkers if that’s what you're asking…” You mutter, swallowing nothing. Your whole mouth was dry.
“Ya’ sure? The one on your arm, what was it cut by?” He says hesitantly.
“A knife, I think… The ones on my legs were from thorns,” You say.
He gives a curt nod, seeming to believe you. He bends down next to a tree, grabbing a canteen you hadn’t noticed was there before. He hands it to you with a nod.
Your eyes widen at the sight. You didn’t want to accept it from a stranger, but your thirst took over. You unscrew the cap with your good but still shaky hand, swallowing down a few gulps of water. You lower it from your lips with a satisfied sigh.
“Thanks.”
He nods. “Ya got a name?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n…” He repeats. “Why did they attack ya?”
You shake your head with a sigh.
He doesn’t ask you to answer again, just waits.
You look over at the wrappings on your arm. It looked much better than when you did it, and it was wrapped together sturdily. For the first time you notice that you were also wearing a shirt. It was a red-orange button up, way too big for you and smelling of sweat and mud.
You use your good hand to hold the bottom of the shirt in gesture.
“This is yours?” You ask.
He nods.
“You fixed my arm wrap?”
He nods again.
You wait a moment before speaking. This was the first time anyone had actually taken care of you since the apocalypse began. You had a family before… But now…
“Thanks…” You mutter.
He nods, accompanied by a grunt.
“Why did you do it? You could have let that Walker eat me and not waste your time,” You ask, watching him.
“I ain’t like that. Couldn’t just leave ya for dead,” He says, shifting his crossbow over his shoulder, deeming you not a threat. And even if you were, you couldn’t do much of anything in your condition anyways.
“I’m lookin’ for someone, a girl,” He says. He holds out his hand in a gesture of a child's height. “ 'Bout yay high, brown hair, carries ‘round a doll.”
You shake your head. “I haven’t seen any little girls around.”
He nods. “Those men coulda gotten ‘er?”
“Doubtful… They're miles away by now…”
He grunts. “How many of em?”
You shake your head, sighing. “I don’t know… Pretty large camp… I had only been there a few days.”
“How long you been runnin’? How far away is their camp?”
You shrug. “I ran all night… They drove us there… Hard telling.”
He grunts. “Not planning on going back are ya?”
You shake your head. “No way in hell.”
“What did they do to ya?”
“Those guys… They tried to…” You suddenly found yourself self conscious of how pained your voice sounded. This wasn’t the first time men had attempted doing that to you since world broke down. You cleared your throat with a small cough. “They tried to use me. Five guys. They said we were going out for a lesson on how to shoot.”
He nods, brows frowning. “Worlds even more full men like them than it used ta be.”
You nod, feeling exposed.
He watches you for a moment longer. “Family? Friends? A group other than them?”
You shake your head as he speaks. “I’ve got nothing.”
He watches you for a moment longer, picking up the canteen and hanging it from his belt. “Can ya walk?”
You lean against a tree for support and stand upright. Your legs still felt like jelly from all that running, but you could walk. You nod.
He grunts, turning around, crossbow in his hands. “Come with me. We gotta medic that can get ya fixed up and on yer way.”
You blink, walking behind him. “A medic? You have a group?”
He grunts, nodding once.
“Wait- what’s your name?” You ask, stumbling along, trying not to trip on any large sticks or roots again.
The archer grunts, glancing back at you momentarily before focusing on his surroundings, keeping an eye out for people or Walkers.
“The name’s Daryl. Daryl Dixon…”
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Masterlist
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