#there's a lotta ass on the left side

[psymachine]

can you draw dennis jerking off by himself? thank u i luv u

sorry i just...you know he would.

whole version

#this is the real reason he needed mac out of the apartment in frank v russia #idk if it will let me post this even with the cropping trick lmao #there's a lotta ass on the left side #i was working on this while sitting on a boring training for work and accidentally rendered it more than i usually do lmaoooo #oh well #machinegoods #machinequarantine #thank you anon!! #the two sides match up worse on small screens like phones sorry

[sanjisblackasswife]

The aphrodisiac fic for sanji was so good 💖💖💖 could I possibly request (if you're down for it) like the aftermath of it where the reader is exhausted and like very dazed and he does the aftercare, I feel like he'd feel lowkey guilty for being so rough and forceful he would be so sweet right after when things calm down 😭

A/N: OH MY GOSH I WAS JUST SAYING I WAS PROBABLY GANNA DO THIS FROM A LAST ANON COMMENT LOLOL ok here I gotchu.

Aftercare with Sanji (Post Aphrodisiac Sex)(FLUFFY AF)

This is a continuation of THIS fic of the aphrodisiac fiasco so if you would like to get up to speed feel free to read that first! I will be Doing Luffy and Zoro later!

CW: A whole LOTTA fluff, post sex regret, a bit of crying, Sanji being a sorrow’ed mess, amazing aftercare, lots of love, kisses

-

It was 1:30am, and it’s been about almost an hour since Sanji’s drug wore off and you both finally passed out from what you believed as probably the best sex you ever had.

LIKE EVER.

However your body felt otherwise, you were laying on your back, eyes parted slightly, to look up at the blurred ceiling and the moonlight shinning through your window, hearing the water of the sea crash against the Sunny, you didn’t even have to move to feel the sting in your neck and the soreness on your limbs. Your lips were a bit swollen, your breast were sensitive, and you felt incredibly sticky and wet under and between your thighs.

You decided to worry about cleaning yourself up in the morning, but both of your sides felt cold since you were laying in the middle of the bed. Usually you smelled Sanji’s natural scent beside you, holding you close making sure you don’t completely fall asleep before you take your routine bath. You winced a little to turn your head and he wasn’t there, but you heard subtle footsteps hit his door and in came Sanji. With nothing, but some pj pants on carrying snacks, drinks, warm towels and an ice pack.

“Sanji…” You choked speaking out not realizing your voice was nearly gone, it was raspy and a bit itchy. Sanji nearly dropped the cigarette in his mouth seeing you holding yourself with your elbows giving him a weak smile. He threw a clean bed sheet over your body to cover yourself just in case someone busted in while you were knocked out.

“A-angel…” He urgently placed the tray down and rushed over to you helping you sit up. “I got you.”

His voice was so soft, and his touch to your body was so delicate your barely felt him move you compared to a few hours ago. You let the sheet drop off of your torso to see the damage on your body—-

It scared you both honestly.

You had many bruises on your neck from when he choked you, your breast, arms, thighs, ass and tummy for when he was giving you hickies,and a few bite marks on your shoulder. You’ve actually gotten into fights with people that left you with less marks.

You admired your body for a moment and grinned; somehow you really liked how he marked you up.

Sanji however couldn’t be more disgusted with himself.

He always viewed your body as a temple. He wasn’t the most religious man, but he did agree with the statement of what God said: “To treat your body as a temple.” Even though he smokes like a train.

And that’s what he wanted to do with you. He wanted to take care of your body, love it, and more importantly have you trust him with it.

—

He woke up 30 minutes before you, feeling a tad sore himself, “Y—oh shit—Y/N?!”

You were face down beside him and your breathing was pretty shallow. He turned you over too quickly and you shrieked in your sleep making Sanji flinch.

“I’m so sorry, Angel!…let me…let me move you a little closer okay?”

“‘M tired, Sanji….”

Guilt couldn’t even describe how he felt, you looked lifeless in his eyes. Your body was so beautiful, but the bruises ruined it and it was all caused by him.

He couldn’t believe the lack of self control he had with you, drugged or not he should have been able to managed himself correctly.

He carefully pulled you over to the middle of the bed seeing as you were leaning off the edge, after that he got up to put on his underwear and went into the drawer he had of fresh bed sheets and flew one on top of your body.

“I’m …so sorry.” He caressed your head, it was almost as if he betrayed you somehow by being so rough with you—his memory was even blurred a bit on how he started to have sex with you; but he got a few flashbacks of you screaming his name, tears coming through your eyes.

It wasnt long until he seen a tear drop fall onto your flustered cheek. He quickly wiped it away before grabbing your hand to kiss it.

“I’m such a piece of shit for this, I’m so sorry.”

—

“Feel better?” You coo’ed at him breaking out of his thoughts he looked back up at your tired face, your hair was disheveled, your eyes were drowsy but you smiled at him again waiting for him to respond, but his lips began to quiver. “Sanji..?”

“I’m so sorry!” He bursted into tears leaning over his knees , covering his face. “Im so sorry!”

Sanji was broken, his chest was heavy, you haven’t seen him cry like this ever. It wasn’t tears of him usually being his dramatic self it was real tears of pain and regret. You felt your heart sink seeing him look so distraught at you. It was as if he broke his own morals that Zeff taught him and he knew he couldn’t forgive himself if he ever did.

“Sanji…” Holding your breath slightly to not whine in pain to further his guilt, you used all the strength you had to grab him close to you, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sanji please look at me… you don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t deserve you! I hurt you! Look at your bruises!? I caused this! I heard your cries and ignored them, i can’t believe I—I did this to you! I—I—“

His cries were paused when you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly to then rub his cheek. He has tears falling and his eyes were so pink and puffy. This was a serious issue for him, he really believed he hurt you in a bad way.

“Sanji…you didn’t betray me. You didn’t hurt me…—“

“But I did! look at you—- I put my hands around your neck, what if I would have really— I—“ His voice kept cracking trying to fight back anymore tears but he failed and broke down again, and it stung you in the heart. You didn’t want to cry in front of him seeing as you may begin to have him start feeling more guilt so you brought him back into your embrace, he couldn’t even hug you back feeling like he wasn’t worthy of touching you again.

“Please don’t apologize Sanji… everything you did under my consent and was amazing I wouldn’t have had it any other way..you didn’t hurt me. I really did love it. I should have threw out those stupid cigarettes anyways….” You rubbed the back of his head pushing it down gently so he can rest it on your shoulders, “I’m not mad at you either…there is no reason why you shouldn’t feel like you could have been anything less than respectful towards my body, baby…” As you were kneeled beside him on the edge of the bed you held up his wet face, “Remember before we started? You gave me a safe word? If I thought you went to far I would have used it. And I didn’t. You were perfect Sanji…in every way….”

He looked up into your eyes, he actually had no recollection of telling you about a safe word so he didn’t believe you for a moment, but the memory began to flash back. “Safe word?”

“Mmhm! It was blue. And I didn’t use it because I didn’t need to…i really enjoyed myself Sanji. I’m a big girl I can handle a bit of roughness from my Prince.” You let out an airy giggle, but Sanji was still looking into your eyes trying find any tinge of lies in your words, but just like any other thing you tell him; it was the truth. Sanji looked down with your hands still cupping him so you made him look back up, “Do you trust me?”

“…I do.” He whispered. “I just…I wasnt myself….and I’m sorry.”

“I know you weren’t, but I still trusted you and that’s why I allowed you to use me….so no harm no foul.” You wiped the rest of his tears as he sniffed and cleared his throat. He probably would have felt so self conscious crying in front of you like a baby, but he was comfortable, he felt judged free, and that was because he was around you. “I love you, Sanji.”

“…Please…” he grabbed your hand, “Please can I take care of you tonight…?”

You knew you couldn’t protest, catering to you was what he loved as much as cooking so you nodded. Sanji knew it was going to take sometime for him to let go of the resentment he had for what he did, but he believed you would be with him every step of the way for it.

“Common…” He pulled off the remainder sheets from your body to then wrap around you. “Let me draw you a bath.”

You hummed feeling him carefully hold you up bridal style and headed to the bathroom.

He sat you on the clean counter to turn on the water and adjust it to your liking. He placed some fancy soap on the side he got and even pulled some of the fresh lavender in the corner of the bathroom and placed it inside.

“Lavender?” You questioned looking at him from afar.

“It’s good for sore muscles.”

He walked over to your happy smile and curled his lip. You seemed to be still so happy and full of energy so he managed to feel himself breath a little bit more easily. “You okay?”

“Mmhm!” You hummed, He unwrapped the sheet from your body and gave a shaky exhale at the bruises once again, you noticed this and touched his bare chest, “Sanji ….can you give me a kiss please?…I missed them.”

This was the first time he hesitated on physical contact with you. What if he kisses too hard? What if you don’t like it?

“No.” You say as if you were reading his mind, “I want a kiss.”

Sanji leaned in and pecked your lips, they were so soft and plump so he went in for a another, but then pull back. You mentally sighed wanting a little more but you did not mind having to go slow with him.

“Common..” He carried you to the bath and you realized this was the first time he held you as you were naked and didn’t even make eye contact with your body, let alone drool over it. It kind of shocked you.

You let out a loud sigh feeling the hot water touch your cold aching skin. The smell of lavender put your lingering headache at ease and you smiled brightly at your Prince as if you were thanking him through your eyes.

It was a comfortable silence as Sanji sat over the tub to massage and scrub your body. He quickly looked on the counter and found your bonnet. He ended up putting your wild hair in two braids and putting the bonnet on you, kissing your temple in the process.

“Thank you, Sanji…I love you.”

“I love you too, so much.” He exhaled rubbing your shoulders. He gave your left shoulder a small kiss before rubbing it over with some soap on the wash cloth.

“Sanji…can you come in here with me? Please?” You almost didn’t ask, you wasn’t sure if Sanji wanted to but you had no sexual intention behind it. You just wanted to hold him. “We can just talk like we usually do. I know you feel kinda sore too.”

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, You kept your back turned, hearing his bottoms hit the floor to eventually hear his body drop in the water beside you. “Better?”

“No.” You moved yourself over between his legs to lower your back onto his damp chiseled chest. “Now it’s better.”

Sanji hummed in content and finished washing you, some of your bruises and bite marks began to fade a bit giving him some relief. It was nothing but the echoes of the water being moved around for a moment until you looked down to see his hand awkwardly on his own thigh, so you grabbed it to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re so special, Sanji…” You played with his fingers. You don’t why why you always do it, but it gave you a form of comfort when you were close to him. “Your are my special babyboy. My Prince….my…future husband.”

You felt him pause his circular motions he was rubbing on your tummy, marriage has always been a big topic between you both. He always ask you to marry him and you always playfully agreed to make him happy but deep down you could see it.

You can see being his wife, carrying his children.

You can see yourself being Y/N Vinsmoke, and even if he doesn’t want you with that terrible name he can have yours.

You continued since Sanji now had your full attention, “I don’t want you…to ever think that I couldn’t love you any less. No matter what you do. You’re stuck with me.” You giggled, “And I want to be stuck with you…You’ve been my first everything…and I want you to be my last and only everything….and…”

You don’t know why, but you started to get emotional yourself. Was the guilt you subtly felt? Was it your telling Sanji the truth? Was it the atmosphere? You didn’t know but you just swallowed hard and sniffed, “and I do love you, Sanji…I’m in love with you…all of you. Your flaws, your strengths your weaknesses…I love it all so don’t ever think I feel the opposite….don’t ever change Sanji..”

You turned to him in one fell motion to kiss him, this was probably the most realest kiss you’ve ever given this man, it was needy and hungrily, but passionate. Eventually both of you had small tears fall down pulling back, but you didn’t care. You brushed back his bangs revealing both of his pretty eyes and kissed his eyebrows. It was an insecurity he had but you didn’t care they were beautiful to you.

Sanji didn’t have much to say. He felt so overwhelmed with feelings. You sighed happily feeling his arms curl into your waist. In head was in your neck as you felt his tears drop onto your collarbone. In this very moment It was Just you and him. In this moment Sanji felt loved, he felt comfortable, he felt safe, and he felt forgiven for his actions.

“I don’t know what id do without you…” His voice Just above a whisper, rubbing circles on your back. You stayed like that for a while lightly rocking back at fourth. the water began to still and get cold so you both decided to clean up a bit more and go back to the bedroom and sleep for the last bit of hours you had left before everybody woke up again.

Sanji cleaned the sheets and carried you back on the bed which you felt much less sore but he still insisted you don’t walk for the rest of the night.

He brought over the snacks and drinks for you. You both were refreshed and happier so it was nothing but mindless chatter for a little bit as you ate.

“Shit..” Sanji huffed seeing the subtle light of the sun crack through the window above you both noticing y’all have talked almost all night. “I have to head to the kitchen in like an hour.”

“That’s okay.” You giggled laying flat on your back on the bed reaching your arms out, “Let me hold you for a second.”

His cheeks were a bit pink as your suggestion. Especially since you were wearing his button down shirt and your breast spilled through it showing your unerect nipples. You laughed at his reaction and just grabbed him to lay atop of your chest.

“S-so soft!” Sanji sung a little with excitement rubbing his head on you, you could feel the subtle heart eyes he had and you smiled warmly knowing your Sanji was better.

“I love you, my Prince.” You hummed kissing his head. He squeezed you a little,

“I love you, too, my love.”

#sanji #sanjionepiece #one piece headcanons #sanji imagine #black reader #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece #black foot sanji #sanji scenarios #op sanji #one piece x black!reader #one piece x female reader #one piece fluff #female reader #x female reader #one piece scenario #sanji fluff #x chubby reader #one piece hcs #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #sanji headcanons #sanji hcs

[buttercream-princess]

Playing The Game

Summary: Y/K and Dean have been secretly enjoying a friends-with-benefits arrangement for some time now, relishing in the pleasure and excitement that it brings. But when Dean unexpectedly reveals his feelings about someone else while under the influence, Y/K is left reeling and wondering where their relationship truly stands. Y/K must decipher between her newfound emotions and unspoken desires what she really wants: lust or love?

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Whole lotta’ ANGST, little bit of fluff, swearing, sexual objectification kink, SMUTTY AF, unprotected sex, quickie, public sex, unholy dirty talk, NSFW, interactive

DISCLAIMER: Every original Harry Potter characters in this story is 21+. My Hogwarts stories are always and only written as a university universe with grown ass characters.

Notes: This one has been sitting in the drafts for awhile. I’m thinking of turning it into a 5 part series because I’m too attached to this Dean at this point (Just like Y/K lol) - he’s so cheeky, I love it!

*Gifs and images were not created by and do not belong to me. All rights go to owners and creators!!

(Not edited | proof-read)

_______________________

You sleepily reach for your phone underneath your pillows and sit up against the bed frame. 

You check your notifications; still no text from Dean.

Tired and irritated, you let out a groan of frustration and slump back underneath your covers. All you could think was how much you missed him, it was an unfamiliar feeling borderlining on uncomfortable. You never ached for a response from him, since you always had access to him. You were each other's person, but that now seemed called off. It felt almost unfair how easily he was going on with life without you.

It was a long night of tossing and turning, you were unable to get any sleep. Once the birds began their routine songs at dawn, you knew there was no point in trying to get some shut eye, class begins in a few hours.

You couldn’t even think about studying today, you were bitter and strung up. It was all his fault. If he just reached out to you, that would’ve put your racing thoughts at bay. At this point, even an emoji text would’ve been fine. But no, he was radio silent.

Your argument aside, Dean ghosting you was so out of character for him. Dean always made sure to check in with you, you guys were basically joined at the hip. You and Dean have been good friends since your first week at Hogwarts University. You took up the Magical Fine Arts class as an elective in the 1st year. It was Dean who asked you to be his model for the end of year project, to which you agreed to and along the way, you found yourself spending more time with him than you were studying. Dean was funny, charming and adventurous, just your kind of fun. It seemed he had a strong liking for you too because over time, the two of you were inseparable; wherever you saw him, you were always by his side and vice versa. 

But over the last summer, your relationship with him developed into something more physical. It started platonic and friendly but as the semesters passed, your body couldn’t deny his sex appeal anymore. One night at your studio dorm after 2 and a half bottles of red wine, you were both wasted and bonding over your love of muggle music since the both of you were half-blood. That night you went from bestfriends to lovers in private and there was no looking back.

You both agreed to keep it under wraps in consideration of not rocking the boat that was your friend group with Blaise, Lee and Alicia. The odds of awkwardly tinting the group dynamic with your situationship was too much to take a chance on. So for the sake of secrecy, all emotions and entanglements was off the table. It kept your friendship balanced. It was simple and you liked it that way. 

As for Dean in the bedroom, he’s incredibly cocky and is well aware of the power he has over you. Although you’ve never casually talked about your attraction to him, he remembers every moan and moment of begging that left your mouth while he turned you out. He always finds a way to remind you just how needy you are for his dick. Most late nights you’d get a text from him, saying, “Can’t sleep. Come over.” and you already knew what time it was the second you got the notification.

Hooking up with him had become a weekly - almost daily ritual so you didn’t usually approach Dean for sex but by now it had been close to three weeks since your last conversation with him and you were almost feral for his face between your legs. He would never go this long without asking you to come over, it was so unlike him. 

There was once a whole month where you couldn’t get off eachother. You’d get a quickie in before and between classes, in any private room you could find in the castle. The astronomy tower, the room of requirement, the House Elves restroom. Even in Filch’s office once, which you left in absolute shambles, even staining his desk with dry cum - from the both of you. It was hysterical when he reported the scene in the great hall during dinner. You and Dean forced back fits of giggles with mouths full of food, knowing it was you two who defiled his office while everyone else in the hall was completely oblivious. Sneaking around with him had its benefits, one of them being you had a massive secret that only you and Dean shared, as if it was an inside joke that only you and your favorite person knew the origin of. You could call it special. Sure, hiding the truth sometimes felt like a burden but most times it felt electrifying.

While Dean was AWOL, something fierce was brewing in you this morning. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you were edging on desperation. You were fine with not hearing from him the first couple of days, you figured he was just busy. But once you saw him actively going out his way to dodge you, that was all your mind needed to start jumping to conclusions. 

Why was he ghosting you? Did he not wanna hook up anymore?  And if so, why? 

You blankly stare at your phone while your mind wanders off and pictures all kinds of scenarios for his weird behavior.

You recall the last time the two of you spoke, a late night from a few weeks ago….

________________________________________________________

3 Weeks Ago…

Everyone had just sat the OWLS exams and it was finally done with. This year's OWLS was making up for 40% for your final grade of the semester, the stakes were high. It even ripped Granger a new one. And if Miss Know It All is anxious about a test, you should be terrified. Which of course, everyone was.

Yet somehow you came out the other side of the exam alive, along with your friends, and what better way to celebrate the end of a stressful and anxiety producing test than to get absolutely wasted? 

That’s exactly what you and your friends did. Lee and Alicia went off to Hogsmeade bar to celebrate, but you, Dean and Blaise was too tired from a long day of studying to make the trek to town so the three of you shared a bottle of Don Julio in the Griffindor dorm kitchenette. The night was still young and you spent it vibing to music, taking shots and swapping scandalous stories that were only for your friends group ears. It was always good times when you linked with Thomas and Zabini, the three of you were the bestest of bestfriends. You all just naturally clicked with each other and could yarn for hours, which was something worth looking forward to in your day. The night was going good and your stomach was in pain from how much the boys made you laugh, but along the way, the three of you landed on a subject that would change the trajectory of your relationship with Dean…for the better and worse.

“Can we please talk about Fred and Angela? I’ma be all the way real, Fred is punching hardddd man.” Dean exclaims.

Blaise lets out an annoyed moan and perks up from the bench, throwing his hands in the air.

“Finally somebody fucking said it!”

You smirk and raise your glass. Angela Johnson is an etheric goddess walking amongst mere wizards and witches. And Fred is…well, he’s Fred Weasley. Nuff’ said.

“Right?! I’ll bloody drink to that.” You throw back the rest of your mug only to have a few drops hit your tongue. Time for a top up. You scoot off the kitchen top and walk to the fridge, getting some soda to mix with your tequila.

“Look, I love Fred. He’s my best mates brother, Maker bless Ron - the little shit. But how Fred even got a chance with Angie? That’s surely one of Hogwarts greatest mysteries and this school’s packing loads of them cunts.” Dean voices.

You chuckle while fixing yourself a drink, listening in on the boys being messy.

“I’m saying, like? He don’t even know what to do with that, he can’t handle all that.” Blaise says, reeking of jealousy. It was hilarious, you couldn’t hold back the giggles.

“No Weasley can handle a baddie, let alone a black goddess like Angela.” You chime in.

“Exactly. He needs to go for someone like Luna or Pansey, someone in his lane! No offense to them but that’s more Fred’s avenue. Not Angelina Johnson for Merlin's sake!”

You gasp, followed by a chortle. The gossiping behaviour between these two grown ass men was worse than you thought.

“Oh my god Blaise! I know you did not just say that! Not too much on Luna now, that’s my girl. I love that little weirdo.” You insert, jokingly death staring down Zabini. He stares back at you with knitted brows, challenging you. After a few seconds, he blinks and child-like laughter echoes throughout the kitchen from the three of you, laughing at the silly game.

Then Dean loudly clears his throat. 

“No but listen, on the topic of Angie…I mean, shiettt, put me in coach. I can handle that.” Dean lowly blurts amongst the laughing. 

Silence falls in the room, especially from you. You go mute, processing what he just said.

Blaise snorts.

“I mean you know what I mean? She need someone equipped for the job.” 

Blaise daps Dean up in agreement. Both the boys cackle.

Your eyes unintentionally squint and you clench your grip on the bottle of liquor, completely thrown off guard by Dean’s comment. He sure knew how to get a raise out of you. You could hear he was joking, but still, your body reacted on its own accord, knotting up your stomach. You loudly puff out a sigh and plop the bottle back on the bench with a bang. 

“Fuck, that was loud. My bad.” You stifly apologize. 

“You’re alright.” Dean replies.

“You were saying?” You ask, then clear your throat.

Of course you didn’t want him to. But a sabotaging part of you wanted to see how far he’d take it. 

“Look, Angela’s a ten outta ten. Peng as fuck, her body is crazy, and she’s got great banter. I’m first in line when she drops the dead weight that Fred is.”

Wow. He’s playing with fire. You couldn’t believe he’d froth over Angela like that right in front of you. It stinged to say the least.

The two boys cheer glasses and talk more about their thoughts on the couple.

You stir your drink, quietly wheezing to yourself hysterically. Nothing about what Dean said was funny to you, you just couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of him gawking over Angela whilst you were in the room, drunk or not. 

Dean glances over to you with the utmost cheeky smirk, cocking up a brow. He was doing it on purpose and it was some kind of emotional torture he wanted to commit to you.

Why was he doing it? What is he getting out of this shit? you thought.

A smug look was locked on his face as he listened to Blaise carry on, but his gaze was focused on you. He watched you closely, seeing if he’d you’d give him any reaction at all, all while stifling back chuckles. Your silent rage of envy was amusing to him it seemed.

As Dean's eyes lingers on you, you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. You remind yourself that this is just Dean being his usual flirtatious self and that he probably didn't mean anything by it. But it still hurts and there was no refusing that.

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tension in the air. Soon the boys stop talking and you can feel Blaise and Dean's eyes on you, waiting for a response. But you don't give them the satisfaction. Instead, you change the subject.

"Talking about the Twins, did you guys hear about the prank that the twins pulled on Filch last week? Filch went off his head, it was hilarious!"

Blaise and Dean both laugh, relieved that the tension has been broken. They eagerly listen as you recount the details of the prank, and soon enough, everyone is laughing and joking again.

The rest of the night you barely spoke. You chuckled here and there, showing face in front of Blaise. But you were distracted, lost in intrusive thoughts. You couldn’t shake off Dean’s opinions about Angela. You were salty as fuck, so by the time it hit 2AM, you bowed out. 

“As much as I’d love to stay up with you guys, I need to sleep. OWLS kicked my ass. I will see you wonderful people tomorrow.” You slide off the bench and grab the Tequila.

“Yeah shit, it’s almost 3. I’ll head too.” Dean checks his phone and stands up.

“Fair. But first, cuddle before bedtime.” Blaise drunkenly pulls you into a tight hug and pecks the top of your head. Blaise is the biggest softy, you had no idea how he was sorted into Slytherin.

“Okayyy mummy. Night Blaisey. Love ya” You tease, squeezing your arms around him.

“Night bub. Love you too.”

You pull away and head for the dorm hallway. The two boys hang back and say their goodbyes. You soon hear Dean catch up behind you, following you to the dorms. It was a quiet stroll to the rooms. There were many things you wanted to say but your pride had a tight muzzle on your mouth.

Dean breaks the silence, “He’s a good one, that Blaise.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. Love him.”

The rest of the way to your room was silent. You pass the corridor to the men’s dorm but he stays on your route, following you to the women's dorms.

You scoff. 

If he thinks he’s getting some tonight, he’s got you all the way fucked up. You don’t mention him following you though, you figured you’d pop off at him in the room. And boy, was he in for a storm.

Dean laughs, catching your attitude. But he doesn’t say a word because he knew you wouldn't turn him away, you never do. Usual overconfident Dean behavior.

You were steaming all the way up to your door. Your blood wasn’t boiling, it was burning. You were contemplating blowing your cool and letting him have it right now and here out in the hallway. You couldn’t understand in the moment why he had you so vexed over banter but you didn’t care, you were hurting and he needed to know. But instead of blowing up on him, you decided silence was the best treatment to handle Thomas. 

You huff back the emotions that were flooding to the surface, your face was heating up with rage - tears were sure to follow soon. You just needed to get inside your room before you let it all out. 

You take your keys out of your jeans pocket to unlock the door and place the key to the hole but it doesn't budge. Your hands were shaking and you were on the verge of crying out of pure frustration. You already had a mountain of unexplainable feelings that was rocking your shit, this stupid key was just the cherry on top. Pursing your lips together, you swallow back the rogue wave emotions on your heart while staying faced to the door. You couldn’t let Dean see just how miserable you were over something so minor and stupid.

He closes in behind you. The warmth of his breath tickles your skin as he bends down and leans his chin in the crook of your neck. 

“Give it here you goose.” He chuckles.

Taking the keys out of your hands, he unlocks and opens the door on the first try. You grumble cuss words under your breath. Even when helping you, you couldn’t stand him. Not right now, everything he did irked your soul. 

You step into the apartment and head straight to your kitchen cabinet. There was a heavy weight of feelings on your chest and drinking it away was the only option. Yes, you were already drunk, but definitely not drunk enough to forget how crossed up he has you.

You slam open the kitchen cupboard door, grabbing the biggest cup you own and quickly fill it up with the Tequila in your other hand. Dean closes the door behind him and walks over to you.

“Woah there, fairy. I think the only thing you need to be drinking right now is water.”

He grabs the bottle and glass out of your hand, chucks the alcohol in your cup down the kitchen sink and fills it with water from the sink.

“Oh, so now you know what I need?”

He turns his head to you, furrowed in brows and squints his eyes. He studies your face, the way he looks at you makes you feel exposed. He knew what you were poking at, he could read every subliminal between your words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to wake up with a hangover in the morning.”

A soft friendly smile forms on his lips, which only riles you up more. Can he not read the fucking room? 

“Yeah well, maybe I like waking up with hangovers.”

He snorts and turns off the tap, walking back over to you with the glass of water.

“Maybe you do. Looks like I’m learning something new about you everyday, beautiful. Drink this.”

You place your hand on your hip and stare back at him blank in the face. You weren't doing anything he wanted you to do.

“No, you drink it. And choke for all I care.”

You turn on your heels and head to the bathroom with the bottle of Don Julio still in your hand. He chortles, amused.

“Only if you’re the one doing the choking, baby.” 

You grunt at his chirpy attitude, absolutely done with how witty he is. Usually you like it, he always says the right things to make you swoon over him, but now it was just ammo to get under your skin.

You turn on the showers, letting it run hot to steam up the room. As you undressed, you couldn’t help but feel stupid for letting Dean get to you. You take a gulp from the bottle.

With every clothing piece you took off, memories of him kissing that part of your body flooded your mind, accompanied by visuals of him doing that to Angela. It was tormenting. You take another sip from the bottle.

You step under the streaming water, letting it wash over your face. Finally, the tears fall. It felt good. You knew you were crying over something so silly but you didn’t want to compartmentalise, the only way you were getting through this was by letting yourself have a sook and feel everything, something you never did when it came to Dean. Feeling anything emotional towards Dean was something you put off limits from the beginning of your situationship with him, it kept your feelings safe in case things got ugly between you two. But now you were feeling the burn of setting that rule in the first place.

As you stood under the hot water, you let your mind wander. You thought about everything that had led up to this moment. You thought about how you and Thomas had started off as friends, and how things had escalated so quickly. You thought about the passion and the intensity that you had shared, and how it had felt like nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But now, as you stood there alone, you realized that things were different. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had been with other people and could be hooking up with other girls right at this moment, and that he might not have been as committed to you as you had thought, even if it was just friends with benefits. You couldn't ignore the feeling of betrayal that had been gnawing at your heart since you had found out how he felt about Angela.

When you began hooking up with Dean, you had no idea it would cause so much pent up frustration and desire in your body. Sex would help release this energy from the system, but there was an emotional side to things that had you questioning everything. Surely after some time, you began to ask yourself:

“Do I have feelings for Dean?”

Just hearing those words in your thoughts made you angry.

“Fuck!” You yell, “What is wrong with you?!” you ask yourself in frustration.

How could you let it get this far? How could you let Dean work his natural love potion on you? You thought you were better than this. Better than all the other girls who fell for his stupid addictive charm.

Three knocks tap on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes.” You sniffle.

You see him in the reflection of the bathroom glass, taking off his clothes and shoes, all he was left in was a singlet and boxers. He walks towards you and opens the shower door and leans his arm up against the shower frame. You face towards the shower head, not giving him any form of attention.

“The waters getting out.” You protest.

“I don’t care. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmmm.”

He pulls his singlet over his head, tossing it aside and kicks off his briefs, stepping into the shower and closing the door.

Tears were still streaming from your eyes, you stood underneath the flush of the water. You didn’t want to let him see you in tears. A few painful minutes go by and you hesitate to tell him off. Although you were mad with him, you loved sharing showers with him, it was one of the few intimate things that you did with him that wasn’t sex.

You sniffle and clear your croaky throat, it was a dead giveaway.

Dean steps closer under the water, saying a wandless spell to the soap, which placed a dollop of cleanser in his hands. He places both hands on your shoulders, lathering up and covering every inch of your body with the suds.

Dean dials down the water temperature and makes it a sweet warm stream and sways you by your waist from under the water. 

He was smooth, even in instances like this. He didn’t need to use spells or charms, he just intuitively had a way with you that always got to your core. He observes you, adjusts his approach and works his magic on you. 

“Y’know,” He pulls the hair in front of your face behind your neck and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, “You’re allowed to tell me when I fuck up.”

“Huh?”

“I know I said something that made you uncomfortable, you can tell me.”

You turn your head to look at him, surprised by his admission. He was usually so confident and self-assured, it was refreshing to see him vulnerable like this.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling ashamed of your own emotions.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures you, “We both can just be silent for all I care. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”

He leans in and kisses you gently on the lips, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be held, to feel safe in his arms. But then reality hits you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small shower space.

“No, you’re not here for me. That’s not what it felt like when we were with Blaise,” you accuse him, the anger rising up in your voice, “You just want to keep me around for when you’re bored or lonely. You don’t actually care about me.” you exclaim, accidentally revealing your resentment.

Dean looks hurt by your words, but he doesn’t back down.

His hand slides up from your thighs to your waist.

“I knew something was wrong. You don’t have to act with me. Just tell me what I did.” He calmly says.

His touch goes over your stomach, just above your nether regions, but he doesn’t go further, Dean knew to be gentle with you in the moment.

“Forget it. I’m just trying to shower.” You say, pulling away from his grasp, retreating back to icing him out

He goes to speak but he pauses, you could see on his face that he was calculating his next words. Lost in his thoughts, he says a spell to the body wash again and goes over his body.

You lean against the shower wall, arms crossed, bottle still in hand and looking up to the ceiling. Tears still falling from your eyes disguised as droplets of shower water.

Dean grabs the bottle from your hold and pulls you into the water with him, tilting your head up to his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday and I know you weren't either, so there’s no point in either of us playing dumb. I’m sorry– please believe me.”

You clench your jaw.

“About what?”

“What I said about Angela. It was stupid. I only said it to get a rise out of you.”

Is this shit a game to him? Your emotions just a ploy for him. And for what? Just so he can feel better about himself? You wanted to hear an apology from him but you didn’t expect it to come with the harsh reality of the situation.

“You’re right, it was stupid. I don’t care though.” You lie through gritted teeth, “What does it matter? You were only speaking your truth.”

“That’s the thing. I wasn't. I was saying all that shit just to get a reaction outta’ you and it was beyond wrong to do that. You don’t deserve that.”

You meet his eyes, he looks completely sincere and open but you quickly look away, feeling a small sob build at the bottom of your throat. The liquor had taken over your emotions and was ready to let it all pour out.

“Why Dean? What's the point?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought if I said that, you would’ve said something, anything. Maybe I just wanted to hear you claim m—”

“No, Dean. You didn’t hear me. What’s the point of us?”

He stares into both of your eyes, trying to figure you out. Under his gaze, usually you would melt but right now, all you felt was a sense of grief. 

“Right…oh, righttt.” He sternly responds.

He loosens his grip on you and tilts his head, squinting his eyes and licks his bottom lip, a grim smile forms on his lips as he starts to sarcastically laugh. 

“Oh. Message received.”

He leans down and places his lips on your forehead, chuckling against your skin while giving you a kiss then exiting the shower, taking no time to dry himself with the towel from the rack. 

“When you’re done with whatever this is, let me know.”

You stand there, feeling a mix of confusion, anger, and desire all at once. You can hear the sound of the bathroom door closing as Dean leaves, and you're left alone in the shower, still processing everything that just happened.

You take a deep breath and turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel from the rack. You take one last chug of tequila before placing it on the sink. As you dry yourself off, you can't help but feel disappointment. You didn’t know what you wanted. You were torn between giving him the cold shoulder, letting him feel your anger or to give in, let him right his wrongs and lay up in his arms where you wanted to be. 

You swipe your hand across the foggy mirror above the bathroom sink and look back at your reflection, red eyes and puffy eyelids from crying. You knew what the reasonable thing to do was but somewhere deep down, you knew this was an internal issue. You longed to be consistently chosen, whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was an inner turmoil that you had and Dean just happened to be the person who you wanted to act on it. It was unfair to him to put him in such a position without him knowing, but you wanted him to just know what you wanted and to provide it instantly. It was selfish of you but you couldn't help it.

The bitter truth stands - he’s wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t in a relationship with him and he wasn’t officially yours. How could you possibly ask him to do boyfriend things without actually being your man. Which posed the next question:

“Do I want to be Dean’s girlfriend?”

You wince again at the intimate ideas flooding in. But the wonder stayed with you this time, replaying back memories in your mind of Dean’s beautiful smile before he laces you with kisses all over your face. You wanted that, all the time. You wanted him all the time.

You finish drying off and walk to the bedroom, still lost in your thoughts. As you approach the bedroom door you see Dean sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone.

He looks up as you enter the room, and his expression softens. "Hey," he says, patting the seat next to him. "Come sit."

You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat next to him. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth.

"I'm sorry for how I acted in the shower. Actually I’m sorry for everything," he says, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to upset you, I was acting out of line this whole night. I just wanted to make things right."

You turn to look at him, and his eyes meet yours. You can see the honesty in his stare, and you feel yourself start to soften. Just as you open your mouth to apologize, he speaks.

“And look, if you don’t want to be around me right now, I understand. I’ll leave-”

He goes to stand up but you pull him by the hem of his shirt. By now you were more wasted than you anticipated and didn't want to be alone with your intrusive thoughts.

“No. Stay.” You slur out.

Relieved, he sits back down and looks at you in silence for a few moments, a flicker in his eyes.

“God, look at you. You’re so cute.” 

He squeezes your cheeks between his hands once before getting up from your bed and walking towards your drawers, opening them and shuffling clothes around. 

“What are you doing?”

“Pyjamas. It’s time you go to bed, you.”

You giggle burp. You didn’t want to go to sleep, you still wanted to talk about your feelings to him. But for some reason you found it endearing he wanted to put you to bed without sex being in the context.

Dean picks out a set of comfy clothes and walks back over to you.

“Up.” He orders you. Your towel drops to your feet and he fits your shirt over your head then continues to dress you in your clothes.

“Somni Modus (Bedtime mode).” Dean says a wandless spell which dims the lighting, lights the candles, puffs your pillows and pulls back your covers. You crawl to your side of the bed and Dean joins you on the other side, pulling the covers over you.

He leans on a pillow and props himself up on an elbow, facing you, watching your dizzy drunk self get comfortable in bed, cuddling a small pillow. He smiles, looking at you in awe. You roll over and feel the urge to pour your heart out to him, 

“I probably wouldn’t say this to you when I’m sober but I think I-”

He cuts you off.

"Darling, you’re way too intoxicated right now. I promise we can talk more when you’re in the right state of mind. Just come and find me, and I’ll listen, okay? But for now, you need some rest.”

You pout, slightly saddened. There were still some things you wanted to get off your chest. But you don’t argue with him, your eyelids was feeling heavy and the room was spinning the more you tried to stay awake.

Dean tucks you in and kisses your forehead, then heads towards the door.

As he's about to leave, you reach out and grab his hand. "Please don't go," you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He pauses, then smiles softly and sits back down next to you, pulling you into a soft embrace. "I won't go anywhere," he says, stroking your hair, "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and protected in his arms.

As you drift off to sleep, you realize that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay with him after all.

______________________

Currently…

That was the last you heard from Dean. Your memories of the night had a few blanks, considering how much you drank, though you definitely remember how you felt. You spent many days, wracking your brain over why the night panned out like that and why he would promise to listen to you if he was just gonna ignore you in the first place. 

You decided when you fully woke up, that was it. No more using your voluptas wand (Pleasure wand) and pretending it was Dean. You needed an explanation, a good fuck and to be on talking terms again and he was the only person who could give it to you. You flicked open his school schedule on your phone, which he had previously sent you so you would know his free periods for quickies or some head in the Elf janitor closet. You two were just that ravenous for each other.

You scrolled to his classes for the day and saw that he had a morning quidditch game against Slytherin. Dean had to be already up at the field, stretching and preparing for the match, he was an early bird. 

You stand up from your bed and commit to your decision. You take a brisk shower and dress for the occasion - not showing too much so it shows you mean business but leaving out a little skin for a subtle hint of slutty to show him what he's been missing. Perfect.

It was a cold lengthy walk down to the Quidditch field. No one was awake except for the winter birds, owls and the sun kissing the sky with orange hues. As you neared closer to the male Quidditch changing tent, you went over in your mind exactly what you were going to say to him.

“So, no text? No. That’s lame. Okay, so when were you gonna tell me we weren’t doing this anymore. Ew! that too mushy for 5AM in the morning ,Y/K.” You thought to yourself.

Every sentence that came to conception only made you sound needy and that you wanted him more than you were willing to let him know. But you missed him badly, and you wanted him again for crying out loud! it was the truth. Him finding this out was a risk you were gonna have to take.

You stop out the front of the tent opening and release a big heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

You lift up the material of the tents doors and see the man of the hour. Butterflies swarm your insides. This had to be the first time you’ve ever felt anxious around him.

“Dean?”

He pauses his stretching and turns around. His beautiful cinnamon brown eyes travel from your legs, up to your eyes. He starts walking over to you with rush in his step.

“Right, so I don’t what’s happening between us but I–”

“Well, look who decided to come around.” He finally speaks.

Dean grabs your face into the palm of his hands and pulls you into a haste kiss. His tongue took no time finding yours. The tense from your body drops as you find yourself seeping into his pull, right where you want to be.

The feel of lips and touch felt like feeding an addiction you’ve been weaned off for eons and you’re getting a much needed hit again. But you still had questions. You pull from his kiss and ask away.

“First of all, why didn’t you hit me up? And ignoring me?”

“I was waiting.”

“For?”

“For when you’d make the first move.”

Your mouth opens wide as it forms into a smirk. From the sounds of it, he wanted to be chased by you. So the man has emotional needs and wants besides getting a load off. Who knew? 

“Dean Thomas playing the waiting game? Seriously?”

“Oh shut up. I missed you.” he gives you another deep kiss then comes up, “That’s the last time I’m waiting for you to make the call. You almost drove me mad, woman.” his hands slides underneath your skirt and palms your ass cheek in his hand.

You press your body up against his, feeling his member already bricked up. And just like that, gasoline was thrown into the fiery tension between you two like it never left and it felt like pure electricity.

“Please tell me you didn’t jerk off. I want you at your best.”

“Like I said, I was waiting for you. Nothing can satisfy me the way you do.” He says, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites.

You moan in response, feeling the heat rising between your legs. You pull him closer, your hands gripping his biceps tightly.

“We’re gonna need to have a serious talk but I need this first.” You breathe out as your hand slips down to his 9 inch member over his shorts while his hands explore your body.

“Of course. We can talk things over. Do me a favor first, pretty girl? bend over.” He takes your hand, spinning you around and positions you over the stacked bat trunk. You oblige to his request and bend over the case, exposing all of your sex to him.

Dean wastes no time, pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, revealing your wetness. He smirks at the sight, knowing he's the only one who can make you this soaked. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before teasingly running a finger over your folds, making you gasp.

“Please, Dean. Don't tease me. It’s been too long, I can’t wait anymore” You moan out, your body trembling with need.

He chuckles and slides a finger inside of you, pumping it slowly. He adds another finger, hitting all the right spots. He was pumping your pleasure button to new highs, making you buck back against his long strong fingers. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body starts to shake.

“Dean baby, I'm gonna cum.” You whimper out, unable to hold on any longer, and just before you feel the eruption of bliss, he pulls out.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck, “Wait for me baby. I know you miss it.”

And just like that, Dean’s Gryffindor jersey shorts and briefs drop to his ankles, you feel his member hot and hard rubbing against your ass cheeks. He takes his time and slides the tip down between your cheeks, against your asshole, to your hungry flesh. He pushes in slowly and immediately you feel the evidence of his absence. His size hurt like hell but it hurt so good, it already sent you over the edge into climax.

“You kept it nice and tight for me baby, hmmm?”

He dips in deeper, filling you up wholly, hitting your pleasure spot at the back of your pussy, driving you wild. You were gushing all over his dick yet as he pulls back, you feel the friction of your walls wrapped around him like a fitted glove, as if your pussy was designed just for him to fuck in.

He holds the hem of his shirt through his gritted teeth so it didn’t block the view. He wanted to see every motion of your needy cunt taking him whole. He paces himself while adjusting his tip at your entrance again. The tension and anticipation between the two of you was thick and vicious. Both of you knew what was about to go down, once he starts stroking, it’s game over for your precious walls. 

Leaning down to you, he grabs a heap of your hair and twirls it in a fist, pulling your head back so his cheek was gashing against yours while he busts his first thrust into you, making your body jerk in intense euphoria. He goes again and again, until he picks up a rhythm. Your bodies rub together in heated unison, stimulating your senses to the nastiest levels possible, as he shoves kisses to your mouth, sucking on your tongue and leaving sloppy kisses on your cheeks and ear, thirsting for your affection. With every stroke, you’re sent into an oblivion of pure ecstasy.

Muffled grunts and mumbles of pleasure was all you could hear. It was killing Dean not to talk his shit. He’s a vocal lover, he knew all the right things to say that would brings out the animalistic freak in you. But in this tent, soft moans and whispers was all he could give you.

You rock your core back against his length, making him damn near lose all control and grip your hips with a tight hook as if he was cautiously trying to steady you. Throwing it back on him was a dangerous game, the control you had over him in the moment was unbearable. He desperately slows down his rhythm, nears your ear and mutters through his breath, “Oh, so you wanna play like that, huh?”

A devilish smile grows on your lips and you catch your breath in the quick spell he’s giving your walls. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You cluelessly respond.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He pants on top of you, nestling his face in your hair, taking in your scent and licking up the droplets of sweat on your back.

“Two can play that game, sweetheart.” He mumbles into your skin.

 A half smile forms on his lips as he slams back into you. He chuckles as you begin to lose it under him again, the sight of your unraveling was pure entertainment for him. He was well aware of just how good he puts it on you.

He stands up and spreads your cheeks apart while observing the view.

“I love seeing your pretty pussy take this dick. Why’s that pussy so good, hmm?” He grunts out.

Dean halts and draws back so only the tip is in.

“I said, why is that pussy so good?” he squeezes your face between his hand and turns your head to him, making you look up at him in the eyes as he rams in and out of you, leaving you silently gasping for air. Rolls of the orgasms he gave you just moments ago were still coming over you.

“I think I need to fuck you before every match.” 

He picks his pace back up, filling you entirely. Bending down, his lips swipe across yours, teasing your desperate mouth.

“I bet you’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Tearing that pussy up every game.”

You look back to find his eyes piercing into yours as he strokes you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you: under him, stretched and slutted out. He was driving you insane.

You moan in response, feeling his wood flesh you out like there was no tomorrow. The idea of being fucked by him every match was both exhilarating and dangerous. You knew it would be hard to resist him before every match, knowing he had pent up aggression for the quidditch field. It was intimidating how easily he dominated you like this. But right now, all you could think about was how good it made you feel, being his little cum bucket.

“Yes,” you gasp out, “I want you to fuck me every game.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You always spread your legs for me like a good fucking whore, no matter the time or place.”

His features soften and his eyebrows furrow in. He closes his eyes and crashes lips to yours, groaning in your mouth. His strokes deepened inside you to the back of your walls, he wouldn’t dare to pull back a single inch, he wanted to feel all your tightness around him. You clench your pussy lips as he rests balls deep inside you, the pleasure mixing in the pain of his shaft hitting your cervix sent you over once more. You bend further across the trunk, trying to process all the sensations he was giving you, shying from his stroke.

Dean pulls you back, burrying his cock deeper than he was before. You whimper through another nut with teary eyes and slippery sweat all over your body. There wasn’t any words you could fathom that could explain the bliss he was fucking into you. 

“Don’t run, baby. Be a good girl, take it.” he whispers, watching your face go through levels of rapture.

He pauses and strokes one more time, steadying himself before giving you another row of toe curling plows. Retracting out and immediately ramming right back in. He continuously rips into you, not giving you a single moment to gather yourself. 

“Take it. Take all this fucking dick. I missed this pussy too much. I missed you so much baby!” 

His voice cracks into a deep tone, moaning out all his nasty thoughts to you, “You feel so good, you always do. My pretty little whore.”

And just like that, hearing him talk nasty to you sparks the freak in you to life. You start fucking him back, applying all the pressure to his cock.

“Yes baby. I’m a fucking whore. I’m your whore.” You screech out.

You were gone, completely lost in the heat of passion. Dean bought out filthy taboo in you that you didn’t even know had a place in your desires.

“Use me like a fucking toy. I’m just an object for your cum. Nut inside me.”

“Oh fuckkkk.”

His cum shoots against the back of your core. As much as he tried, he couldn’t hold back the roaring moan that left his mouth. You felt his load fill you to the brim as it oozed outside your slit and down the back of your thighs.

“Damn girl, what the…fuck. I haven’t nut that good in a minute…” He weakly pants, his body going limp against yours.

You tiredly chuckle, too exhausted to try to speak, basking in all the high sensations still running through your body.

He doesn’t pull out, he smiles and moves the strands of hair that were slicked against your face behind your ear.

“So that’s what you like? Being my toy?” He inquisitively mumbles between huffs, leaving soft pecks against your bare skin.

You freeze in embarrassment, wanting to hide from his grasp and gaze.

“Oh my g- I don’t even know why I said that. I say stupid shit when we fuck.”

“Well hold on now, who said it was stupid?”

You cover your face in embarrassment with your hand. Sure, the thought of him using you like a fleshlight is enough to make you cum from the thought alone but you couldn’t admit that to him, that was sensitive information for only you, your toys and your spank bank to know. Plus, it would only make him more arrogant knowing how much power play gets you off.

“If you’d allow it, I think you’d make a perfect beautiful tight toy for me.” He caresses your thigh,  soothing over the indented marks of his fingers from digging into your skin.

He brings your hands from your face as he hardens inside you, already ready to make a slut out of you again.

You gasp and look at him with widened eyes. “Already?” 

“Baby, you actually feel like heaven…can you blame me?” He tilts his head and smiles that cocky all knowing smile.

“You’re such a slut.” you laugh off.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.”

He gives you a kiss accompanied by slow strokes. You coo from the soreness of your walls being worn out but you ached for another round, his sex was a pleasurable craving you would never get enough of.

From a far distance, you can hear a crowd of people chatting and laughing. 

“Fuck. Shit. What time is it?” Dean abruptly tugs his full length out of you, pulling up his shorts.

“I’m not sure? I lost track of time ages ago.” You frantically look around you and over the trunk for your underwear.

Dean helps you look around and remembers he put it in the pocket of his shorts when he was undressing you.

“I think you’ll be needing this.” 

He gets down on his knees and helps you put the panties back on, wiping his cum away from your thighs with a gym towel from the equipment basket. He slows his pace when he draws his touch up to your hips. You raise your brows, wondering why he stops rushing.

“Dean?”

He lays a kiss on you clit against the fabric and looks up at you with bright eyes and a smirk, caressing the back of your thigh.

“You free after the game? I have a feeling I’ll be needing to use my toy.��

“What? You ask now with people right outside? You know you can just text me after the game.”

He stands up and pulls you by your waist into him.

“I could, but I wanna hear you say it.”

He bites down on his bottom lips, waiting for the magic words. You antsily look at the exit of the tent, ready for players to start rolling in at any moment.

“Dean! They’re right outside.”

He raises his brows, not budging to let go of you. Either he didn’t give a fuck that anyone knew you were fucking or he was just that naturally bold and stubborn. You were sure it was the latter. Either way, you couldn’t resist his charm.

“Yes, I have a free period after your game to fuck.” You submit, coyly smiling and rolling your eyes.

Satisfied, he presses his lips against yours. “Good girl.”

“Okay, now I’m leaving.” you say against his kiss and step away to head for the exit.

“Yeah, get of here ya’ weirdo! Why are you in the male changing tents anyways? Pervert!” He exclaims loud enough for even the people outside to hear.

You halt and turn back at him in disbelief, breaking into laughter.

“You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“You love it.” He chuckles and gives your ass a quick slap.

You scoff. Before you could give a proper reply, the male cohort of the quidditch team enter into the tent.

“Morning Dean…and Y/K?” Ron approaches.

“Left my phone in the common room last night. Good thing Y/K is like totally obsessed with me and knew I had a game this morning.” Dean jokes, mimicking an American valley girl accent, “She came and dropped it off for me first thing.” he shoots you a wink as he makes the sneaky innuendo.

The balls on this guy. Unbelievable. You had to admit, it was fucking sexy though.

“Well that’s the last time I do that. I’ll just let the house elves take it to lost and found next time.”

He laughs. “That’s fair. Thanks anyways bro.”

Bro. Oh he’s really selling it, this guy needs an academy. You’re aware he’s only showing face but for crying out loud, it’s too soon, his cum is still warm inside you. No matter the fuss though, it’s him who’s gonna be moaning baby when you ride the brakes off him later.

You look once over at Ron then shoot Dean a thin lipped smile.

“Don’t mention it, bruv. Just focus on winning, we don’t need any more house points to Slytherin. Knock em’ dead.” 

His brow cocks up as he squints, catching all the shade you’re throwing his way. It was written all over his face, he didn’t like that. 

“Cheers.” Ron exclaims with a big grin.

You turn on your heels and make for the exit. The way you keep up antics to hide your affair in front of others was Oscar worthy at this point. Although it kept things on the hush-hush, it was exhausting. But my oh my, did Dean hate it. He was a poor example for a fuck buddy. He talked a good game but at the heart of it all, he was sensitive, needed reassurance from time to time and to be claimed out loud. If you knew what it would take for him to stop ignoring you, you would’ve acted on that weeks ago. At least that was the one thing you had over him, you knew Dean Thomas’s secret longing to be wanted and loved. 

As selfish as it was, now that you knew his little secret, you now have the upper hand over this situationship. He’s not the only king of hearts anymore; you’re right besides him, sitting pretty on the throne for the queen.

As you leave, you raise your skirt higher, leaving a little cheek out and sway your hips as you exit, giving Dean a cheeky tease. Just enough to make him stiff in his shorts and sexually frustrated. You glance back and see Dean adjusting and tucking away his wood. Laughter erupts from you as you walk out the tent, it was actually hilarious how easy you make him fold.

You were sure you’re gonna catch some heat for it later.

But now after this morning, you realized you like how vexed he gets from your stunts of the need for attention.

Well, solely because it makes him fuck you harder.

#Alfred Enoch fanfiction #Alfie Enoch fanfiction #Dean Thomas fanfiction #Dean Thomas smut #Alfred Enoch smut #Hogwarts fanfiction #black reader smut #hogwarts x black reader #black fem reader #Dean thomas x reader #alfred enoch x reader #alfie enoch x reader #dean thomas imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #black reader fanfiction

[simplyasimpformen]

Here it is- Jschlatt(xreader) HC's that I randomly think of at 3 AM

Bro's love language, or his way of showing his love/affection, is definitely through insults.

Bro would complain to chat about you, jokingly ofc

He'd ask you to play games with him on stream.

You would play drunken truck simulator together and get absolutely plastered, making the stupidest fucking jokes and just being chaotic.

Whenever you two ay Mario Kart, a lotta shit goes on in the house, it would be a huge competition between you two.

Neither of you actually win at the end and just end up tying.

Though whenever you win a race or get first he'd accuse you of cheating.

You would joke and tell him that you're gonna leave him for Minx whenever he calls her in her streams.

When Minx came to the States, you and her kept jokingly flirting to mess with Schlatt.

The first time chat found out about you was accidental.

Schlatt was busy streaming, playing Wii or sum', when you walked in and yelled at him for being loud.

"I swear on Jesus H. Christ- if I have to tell you to be quiet one more time I am throwing out all the fucking cereal in this house."

Chat immediately loved the fact that you got him to actually apologize and made him sound apologetic.

He briefly stopped what he was doing and just looked at you before apologizing and sounding like a guilty child who broke their mothers favourite vase.

You then left to do whatever you were before that and he tried being more quiet the rest if the stream as the chat were all losing their shit.

The second time you appeared chat immediately spammed their nickname for you, since they don't know your real name, and because Schlatt refused to tell them what it was.

"SCHLATT WHISPERER"

You once sent a picture of your shared bedroom to his mods for his stream where he judged his viewers rooms.

Man was concerned for a hot minute before he realized it was you.

Chat still don't know what your real name is and all of them just call you "Bob"

"what should we call you?", You read a donation that came through, directed at you, you assumed. Debating on what to be named you finally decided. "Y'all can call me Bob.", You answered in a fake southern accent making Schlatt turn to you with a bewildered look. "Why the fuck would you want them to call you Bob?!"

You and Schlatt spend hours a day laughing at Joe Biden memes.

I can imagine you being almost exactly like Schlatt tbh

You're both obsessed with guns and America(even if you aren't American)

You definitely went on his Love or Host, and he tried voting you out first round, but chat kept you in.

Chat loves you more then Minx(crazy, ik)

Chat go absolutely ape shit when they hear you get mentioned.

If you have a dog, Schlatt would love it no matter what. He would sleep on the couch with the damn dog by his side.

If you have a cat, it's safe to say that Schlatt is gonna be cuddling with it and Jambo while watching YouTube or Netflix with you.

If you have any sort of reptilians, snakes especially, bro would not let that thing in his house.

If you have a bird, Schlatt would have it sit in his head while he facetimes you when you are aren't home.

You're most likely finna be a business person, no matter what.

He'll let you run certain things in his businesses.

You two barely go out on dates and would rather spend time together inside the house.

But when y'all do go outside, it's usually to fancy ass restaurants.

You guys met in New York, in the middle of December, snow all over the place.

How romantic.

But then he fucked it up by calling you a dumbass.

Yet even though he at first made your blood boil, you still found yourself attracted to him.

Be it his dumbass personality or his shitty humour, something just made you love him, and bro ended up falling in love as well.

You have a love-hate relationship with his mutton chops.

Like.. you don't like it, yet you also aren't that bothered by it- like it just fits with him.

He definitely calls you ugly pet names, which are mostly insults.

Like for instance;

Toots

Hill Billy

Schnuckums

Chicken Shit

Rat

Bake Bean

Shorty(if you're short)

Giraffe(if you're tall)

He'd let you play with his hair and braid it or just run your hands through it.

You threaten to shave off his mutton chops when he makes you mad.

There folks, I'm bored, I'm tired, I should've been asleep a few hours ago.

#schlatt #x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt #headcanon

[system-of-a-feather]

BTW we are basically seeing if we can sue our employer for wrongful termination down the line cause they fucked up and decided to pull a scummy move to save what would be at most $600 when we were already planning on resigning amicably

And like its not a huge deal if it goes through or not and Im not in it for the money or doing it for the money cause idc really since I was planning on resigning anyways and it just means I qualify for unemployment while I'm out of a job which makes up for it

I'm just doing it on principle and out of spite. Spite cause it was a personally scummy move. Principle cause on a political, economic, social level, I really don't like people pulling ableist and capitalist moves that undermines workers rights.

They literally did the worst look, worst play to someone who is going to be put out on medical disability for a month who is a workaholic and needs 40 projects to juggle and was raised by an S Tier Karen in the art of stressing capitalists out.

I got a month of a whole lotta nothing to do for a while and thus a whole lotta time to invest into a passive game of "Im reporting this to HR, The Union, Disability Advocacy Centers, and Low Income Legal Aid groups cause I literally wont have anything better to do and even with it Id still be bored."

Its honestly a really dumb play and I'm going to have fun seeking advice from lawyers and unions and what not to see the full level of which I can either demand compensation or just give them a hard time

And at the very least, make sure that HR knows about the toxic environment and gets on their ass to fix it cause I do feel bad that I left the one person who really supported me down there with one ally and three people I know talk shit about her constantly

Dear Boss,

You fucked up and fuck you in a professional legal manner.

Sincerely,

Worker and Disabled People's Rights

((Btw we actually took a chemistry professors job in our undergrad cause he was an ableist dickhead so its not our first rodeo complaining professionally to a californian university about injust behaviors and actions among their faculty and staff. That is still THE highlight of my undergraduate experience.)

Anyways, the XIV part of our brain whose whole function as a part is to shake shit up and destroy things that he sees as corrupt is so excited to have a project to do while we recover along side my TTRPG and Art stuff.

#alter: fei #alter: xiv #<- very heavy xiv dominance in this fused state #ableism #union #unions #lawsuit saga? #lawsuit saga #technically not but I like that tag

[24hrfrog]

Thoughts on goose/slider? 👀

Banger ship.

Slider calls him “babygorl” for shits and gigs a joke originally

He loves it when Goose sings, Goose loves it when Slider tries to sing along

Lotta physical affection from Slider and words of affirmation from Goose, random ass grabs from Slider ong, lotta goodnight kisses

Slider petted(?) Goose’s stache at least once when he grew it LMAO

Come on they definitely flew together as a duo AT LEAST once

Goose makes fun of the VERY little height he has on Slider (Slider is 6’1 and Goose 6’2)

Slider drags Goose to the gym, they’re a workout couple— Goose cheers him on and Slider forces Goose to join AHHA

They get married a few months after Goose’s training accident with Mav (HE SURVIVED SLUTS.)

Slider proposed with no plan and a ring he got from a candy machine, he looked like a goofball but Goose accepted (they got a actual ring later lol)

You can bet Slider cried at the wedding

They adopted a kid named Bradley after leaving the Navy— Slider was shocked at the slight resemblance he and Goose shared

Later into their life Slider and Goose opened up their own diner along the boardwalk/beach that Goose mainly managed while Slider flew commercial, domestic flights normally but every so often longer routes— he would also bring back souvenirs and promised to take them on vacations to the places he flew, told a lot of stories to Bradley

Bradley grew up fine, Mav and Ice visited as often as they could along with the rest of the ‘86 class, a lot of reunions took place at the diner

They watched Bradley grow up and become a pilot, Slider kept his promises and took Goose on a long vacation trip once Bradley was out of the house, they sent a lot of postcards to friends of where they were

(Oh but Slider also took Bradley on family vacations! He didn’t get left out, just when they were hitting retirement did Goose and Slider go their own way still keeping in touch and checking up)

They sleep on their side facing each other because when Bradley was small he would fit inbetween them and it just became a habit

Slider still calls Goose babygorl

#forcing my domestic happy ending and wed agenda on ships #blurr headcanons! #goose x slider #sloose #glider #slider top gun #goose top gun #ron slider kerner #blurr answers! #nick goose bradshaw

[sykokilljoyy]

burnt out - wroetoshaw imagine

request: Can it be we had a fight but we make up because he is all going out with boys - @ hoperu14 warnings: slight angst, lotta fluff but arguments so :p words: 1336

summary: y/n is burnt out from work and misses her boyfriend. 

Time was dragging. Minutes feeling like hours, hours feeling like days and your 8 hour shift felt like a lifetime. You could’ve sworn the clock had stopped multiple times. Hunched over your desk, empty coffee cups mounting in the bin, painkiller packets lining the width of the surface, you organised your last final documents, putting in the overtime to make sure your works’ project gets completed on time.

Today had been long. And not just today, this week had bled into a month and the project was taking way longer than any of you or your co-workers thought it would, a plethora of obstacles thrown your way. The deadline was close, and there was still so much to do.

All you wanted was to just relax. To not have to work into the early hours, caffeine consumed in bucket loads and still feeling barely any progress. You wanted a hot bath, a nice dinner, a good nights sleep. Everything you hadn’t managed in a while.

Running your hands through your messy hair, you sighed roughly and started at the page in front of you blankly. Glancing around, your eyes landed on the photo-booth prints of you and your boyfriend, Harry. A weak smile made its way onto your lips, followed by a looming feeling of anxiety.

You’d both been distant recently. Work taking up basically all of your time, and Harry spending most nights out drinking with his friends. It sucked. It sucked beyond belief and all your heart wanted was a nice, cosy night with your lover.

As if on cue, the front door of your shared flat clicked open, a shuffling sound of Harry moving around the apartment muffled by the walls. His footsteps got closer and you couldn’t help but feel excited to see him again.

“Y/N?” His voice called as he slightly nudged the office door open, sheepishly letting himself inside.

Anxiety immediately dissolving the second you saw his face, you smiled softly at him, putting your pen down and turning to him in your chair.

“Are you still working? You’ve been at it for hours, love,” He chuckled lightly, knowing your work ethic and stepping towards you.

He was dressed up slightly, a nice pair of trousers and one of his smartest t-shirts on. He looked beautiful, just what you needed to see to rest your mind for a bit.

“Of course I am,” You laughed defeatedly, standing up to greet him properly.

Arms open, he pulled you into a quick hug, and his scent was enough to set your tense joints to rest, feeling your tension simply trickle out your body like rainwater. You wanted to stay like this for hours, and you were hopeful you might be able to, until he pulled away.

“I’ve left you some money for take out tonight, Y/N, make sure you take it easy, okay?” His hands were on your shoulders.

“We could maybe get a chinese? That new episode came out and I’ve been dying to watch it when I got the chance,” You smiled softly at him, hopeful in your plans.

“Oh, uh,” Harry’s hand left your shoulder and went to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, “I had plans to go out with the guys tonight, I’m sorry. How about Saturday? I’m home then?”

As much as you tried to hide your disappointment, the look on your face did nothing but portray the hurt you felt.

“I haven’t seen you properly in weeks, Harry, you’re always out drinking now,” Disappointment laced your voice.

“You’ve been working non-stop for this whole month, Y/N, I’m not the problem here,” He took immediate defense, his arms falling to his side in response, his touch leaving you.

You were taken aback.

“The problem?” You scoffed, “The problem is I’m working my ass off to get a foot in my career and support us both and you spend all night off your face with your friends and I’m left to clean up after you in the morning.”

“I’m sorry I’m not just sitting on my ass waiting until you’ve decided you’re done with work to finally spend some time together, Y/N,” He spat, “I’m obviously going to go out and have fun over that shit.”

Nothing hurt more than fights with Harry, especially considering how hot-headed and stubborn the pair of you were. In most cases, it worked perfectly, but when you were at odds with each other, it only hurt more.

“I’m not asking you to sit and do fuck all, I’m asking to literally see my boyfriend for fucking once without him being pissed or high!” Anger elevated your voice, the dark and tense air in the room suffocating you and your brain was clouded.

“And I’d love to see my girlfriend for more than an hour at a time because her work is far more important than me,” Harry yelled harshly, and it wasn’t until then that his words really settled in, your chest clenching at the realisation.

You didn’t respond for a moment, your head swarming and it wasn’t until the hot tears brimmed your eyes harshly that your heart poured.

“I’m so fucking tired, Harry,” Voice cracking, filled with tension, “I’m so fucking tired and- and all I want is to spend time with you but- but I can’t and I don’t know what to do and- and-“

You couldn’t stop, your brain flowing freely in a jumbled, uncomfortable manner, your voice laced with exhaustion.

“And I miss you so fucking much, Harry, and I just want to come to bed and lay with you for hours doing nothing and I want to take you out and spend time with you but I can’t and it’s fucking horrible.”

Without another word, Harry’s arms were around you. Nothing was said out loud, but his embrace told you everything he couldn’t. Arms clinging to him instantly, you cried into his chest, unable to stop the tears after a month of holding it in in fear of wasting precious time.

Caring hand moving to your hair, playing with it softly whilst you sobbed into him, his lips pressed against your head.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” He whispered carefully.

Shaking your head, you muttered into his shirt “No, I’m sorry.”

“I promise, I won’t go out as much and we can catch up on your show,” He chuckled softly, his attempt at putting a smile on your tear stained face.

Hugging him tighter, your voice muffled “I’ll stop putting my work first.”

A kiss to your hair let you know that he was thankful for your words, but the guilt was eating at you madly.

“And I’m sorry I got so mad, I’m just so scared you’re gonna starting thinking I choose work over you and that maybe you don’t love me as much anymore,” Your voice trailed off, vulnerability coating your skin as you begun to feel to small in his embrace.

“Y/N,” He started, his tone suddenly strong and assertive, pulling away from you. Hand on your chin, he lifted your face to meet his gaze, “Not one single day since I met you, have I felt any less in love with you. You’re all I ever think about.”

You melt at his words, tears still falling as she exhaustion flows through you, “I love you so much.”

“It’s hard you working all the time, but I understand it’s important to you,” He kissed your forehead gently, “I love you.”

“You don’t understand how much I needed to hear that,” You sounded defeated, the crash you knew was coming hitting you as u relied on his soft grasp to keep you on your feet.

“Come on, let’s go watch your new episode, love,” Guiding you towards the door.

“Wait, no, you need to go it’s getting late,” You objected.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m going out over a quiet night in with you,” He chuckled, following you through to the living room.

All your anxiety about the project and Harry was a distant memory as your head rested on his chest, cuddled into the pillows of the sofa as the night grew darker, empty takeaway boxes lining the coffee table, the TV distant in the background as you drifted to sleep quietly. Finally.

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw imagines #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw fanfiction #wroetoshaw x reader #Harry Lewis #harry lewis imagines #harry lewis imagine #harry lewis fanfiction #harry lewis x reader #sidemen #sidemen imagines #sidemen fanfic #sidemen fanfiction #sidemen imagine #zerkaa #miniminter #tbjzl #ksi #vikkstar #behzinga #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #poetsandwriters #creative writing

[roo-ster-brad-shaw]

Desires in the Dark

A dark mafia romance between Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and female character

Warnings: Themes of torture, death, swearing, rough sex, sex without consent, kidnapping. Fluff and Smut. Suggested for those above 18 years of age.

Note: You can change the description and note of the fem character to match your needs. Most importantly enjoy reading all you filthy people 😉

Chapter 1

Bradley sighed as he sat down in his club. It had been a very long and exhausting day for him. He removed his Ray Ban sunglasses and closed his eyes. Blood red flashed in his mind. The days events were harrowing but they were nothing compared to what he had been through. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze towards the bar. He knew what would take his mind off this shit- a cold drink and a hot, fuckable chick in bed. He never liked romance with most girls as most of the girls who approached him threw themselves at him, wanting him just for his money and the chance to be seen with a mafia guy. He tried to get up but his bodyguard stopped him from going anywhere.

“C’mon Jeff, don’t be such a dickwad. Just let me get some drinks and I can go home with a pretty one.” He was rolling his eyes by now. Working with this new bodyguard was proving to be a whole lotta pain in the ass than actual protection. But that’s how new bodyguards are- overtly enthusiastic and extra protective- like boys in a new relationship.

“Sir, first of all my name is Jake. Secondly, it’s against protocol.”

“Protocol my ass Seresin”

“Oh, so can remember names, surprising”

“Fuck off Seresin! Just let me blow off some steam!” The nerve of him to talk back! That little runt! Bradley was about to explode by the time he reached the bar and grabbed a stool.

He ordered his usual, his favourite imported bruichladdich x4 quadrupled whisky. It was seriously expensive and only spared for him. Most people would find it stupid to even buy a drink of such an expensive delicacy let alone buy a whole crate of the bottles, but Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw wasn’t a normal person. He was the leader of one of the most powerful mafia gangs of San Diego, California. He could afford the whole company that made these whiskies, but he chose not to. He was a mafia lord not an impulsive idiot who bought whatever he liked. He took his first sip and hummed in response. He always loved how the syrupy textured whisky tasted incredibly clean but still had citrusy and woody notes with those of vanilla.

He began to nurse the liquor and as he took in the surroundings. Bodies grinded against each other in rave like disco lights of the club. People had drinks in their hands and were dancing like animals on the dance floor. These sort of sights no longer fazed Bradley; he was used to such things in high end parties of the elite. His pant pocket vibrated as he downed his second drink.

“Mission complete, we’ve found Brody’s brother’s location” The voice said on the other side.

“Remind me again why we couldn’t just torture those idiots further to get to Brody”

“Rooster, you know why- Brody has shifted his base of operations to France, he’s left his brother in charge of cleaning up any remaining messes here and that’s why he’s left none of his personal bodyguards here.”

“Just blow him up Phoenix! I don’t give two fucks about that son of a bitch! You know I need Brody!”

“Are you drunk?” She asked with the most straight voice ever.

“Absolutely not! What do you think of me?!”

“God, I’ve gotta stop calling you at such points at night. I’m calling Mav”

“You’d better not, Nat! You know I always call him!” He was trying to be stern but his speech was slurring by now.

“You are drunk and out of your mind now Bradley. Let me inform him, you can discuss it in detail tomorrow after I give you the details.”

“Why are you always the pragmatic one?” He questioned with annoyance yet in a baby like wonder of her intelligence.

“Goodnight, Roo. Get some good sleep.” She sighed, almost smiling by now.

“Goodnight.” His words becoming a complete mumbo jumbo and mishmash by now.

He put down the phone and glanced at his surroundings once again, his mind was once again trailing back to the torture session he had conducted before reaching the bar. He had tortured the hell out of the bodyguard of Cody, Brody’s younger brother. He closed his eyes, trying to move on but his mind could not go beyond.

He remembered as he walked into the room followed by his bodyguards. Phoenix stood there brandishing a pair of intricately carved daggers. Bradley had never liked such close combat weapons, they were never his style, but he respected Natasha too much to say anything to her. She had saved his life once, and the way in which she had handled that difficult situation was what had earned her the respect.

“Who do we have here, Phoenix?” He said in a sing-song manner.

“Tora, one of the bodyguards for Cody.”

“So Tora”, Bradley asked while taking the knife from Natasha and twirling it in his fingers, “Where is Cody?”

“I will never tell you!” Tora screamed as he spat blood onto Bradley’s face

“You will pay for that bitch!” Natasha screamed in anger, raising her second knife to stab him

“Stop, Nat!” Bradley screamed

“Why the fuck should I?! This bitch had the nerve to spit at you! He shall suffer!”

“Nat, calm down. Let me have my revenge.”

Bradley called for Jake “Hangman, hand me my tools please”

“Gladly, sir” Jake replied as he handed Bradley a black bag

“Now you will suffer runt” Bradley said smirking at Tora. He slowly stepped closer to him, whispering in his ear while holding him in place by fisting his hair “I will make you suffer so badly that you will beg for death. And I will eventually grant you that gift but not before you give me the necessary information regarding the location of Cody”

Tora turned pale seeing the smile on Bradley’s face as he steeped away from him. He knew there was no escaping the pain, this was a sadistic man who enjoyed giving pain to others.

Bradley’s ears rang with the screams of Tora as he begged for mercy while Bradley tortured him in various ways. He hated the voices in his head, he wanted them to stop, he wanted relief. His white in shirt was soaked with his sweat as his eyes shot open. He shook his head, now feeling like a child being made to watch a Saw movie, and headed towards the washroom. He could feel Hangman trailing him but he chose to ignore him. He entered the washroom and grunted at the couple making out inside. The woman turned towards him and raised her brows in irritation. His eyes narrowed his eyes to slits and realisation dawned on her. She rushed out with her man in tow. He washed his face and looked into the mirror. He sighed, feeling the weight lifting off his shoulders. He wiped his face as he prepared to head home for the day.

As he was exiting the restroom, he felt someone bump into him. It was a girl and she had spilled her pretty purple and pink cocktail all over his white in shirt, he quickly realised. He wanted to scream at her, to push her away! How dare she be so careless with the owner of the club! His anger melted away in an instant as she looked up at him with her deep brown eyes.

Her warm, doe-like, sweet eyes bore into his hazel and cold ones as he could see the fear in them. The alcohol on her breath was easily noticeable. She was dark-skinned and had straight dark brown, almost black hair. Her strong perfume mixed with her angelic features intoxicated his senses. He looked down her almost 5’ 5” frame. She was petite and chubby, but that only added to her cute and teddy-bear-like features. She wore a pretty knee-length lilac dress, definitely not suited for a club setting but the sheer components of the dress coupled with her soft, almost no-makeup makeup look added to her charm. She was breadth of fresh air amongst the girl always vying for his attention.

“I am so sorry, sir” She spoke in an accent that was almost between and Indian and American accent, almost as if she wanted to emulate an American one.

“It’s fine. What’s your name?” He asked gruffly, lost in her deep eyes as he caged her warm, tiny body in his arms.

“It’s Aditi, sir” She said as she averted her gaze, suddenly more interested in her black heels.

“You from around here?”

“Not really”

“Where you staying tonight?”

That was quite forward of him, she thought as she replied, “At one of my friend’s places”

He could see the puzzled look on her face as she gave her response. “Now, how are you gonna pay for ruining my perfectly good and terribly expensive Armani shirt?”

“I’m really sorry, sir. But I’m just a college student, I can’t afford such things”

“How about you pay me back in a different way, perhaps a spend a night with me?”

“Sir, I can’t do that. I’m really sorry.” She apologised a lot Bradley realised. He sighed. He was used to girls complying with him, this one was different.

“Then I guess I’m gonna have to cash in my favour some other time?”

“I suppose so” She mumbled

“But the favour I’ll cash in then, will be much more expensive as I charge a heft interest”

“I can’t help it, sir. My body isn’t something to be used as payment. My time on the other hand is. Afterall, time is money.”

He smirked. This one is shy yet bold, he thought. “Alright. Join me for dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay” She mumbled again

“Goodnight” He whispered into her ear as his nose nuzzled against her soft chocolate like skin. Her skin smelled like a chocolate bar and the deep floral perfume she wore mage him feel like he wanted to eat her right then and there.

He walked away with a bulge in his pants. He needed relief. He scanned the crowd for a girl. Once he found a skimpily dressed girl, he approached her, doing the usual act of charming her by making her press against his 6 feet body as she swayed her hips, unabashedly. He whispered in her ears, “My place tonight, baby”, as he felt her knees go weak. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her to his car.

Jake was sulking nearby when he saw Bradley headed for the exit. He rushed after him, cursing his boss under his breadth for not informing him of his departure. By the time he reached the car, he saw Bradley dump a girl into the back seat. He quickly occupied the driver’s seat as he heard Bradley order him to take them home. Jake promptly obeyed as he drove the car out of the parking lot. He rolled his eyes when he heard the needy sounds of the girl as Bradley kissed her pulse point. Something he noted as he moved the rear-view mirror in an attempt to avoid breaching the couple’s privacy was that Bradley never kissed her lips. He kissed her body in a needy manner but never her lips. He found this behaviour utmost strange. But then, when a man can flirt with more than one girl in the span of less than an hour and attempt to take both of them home while doing so, could any of his behaviours be called less than strange?

Bradley lifted the girl, bridal style as he took her to his bedroom. The girl was partially undressed with her cleavage generously displayed for him to ogle at. As her threw her onto his bed, he quickly undressed himself and then proceeded to undress the woman in front of him. He then began to leave kisses down her neck, reaching her breasts, stomach and then finally reached her wetness. He began to feast on her as he used his tongue expertly while his fingers rubbed her clit. She was a moaning mess screaming his name. Bradley closed his eyes and imagined touching Aditi till she was moaning his name. As he absentmindedly began to finger the woman, his mind drifted to Aditi. How his name would fall from those pretty cherry lips of hers, how she would thread her fingers through his silken locks, how he would come back up to give her a taste of her arousal on his lips and how while doing so he would brush her dark hair away from that full-moon like face of hers. Fuck, he needed her.

As the pain from his hardness brought him back to reality, he heard the woman saying how she was near and needed him to come in her. He rolled his eyes and reached his hand over to his night stand. He opened one of the drawers to procure a condom, protected sex was always safe, specially when dealing with one-night stands. He slipped the rubber on to his shaft as he entered the woman. He grabbed a pillow and put it on the woman’s shoulder as he buried his head into it. He imagined his Aditi’s beautiful moans as he made love to her, not fucked her like he was currently doing to this woman. He wanted to bury his head into her neck and smell her cocoa skin. He imagined the smell of her perfume mixed with her moisturizer that she had worn tonight. Ugh, he needed to be near her again. As he came inside her, he rested in her for a few more moments before pulling out to switch positions. He made her sit on top of his lap as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. He yanked her head away as he pulled her hair. He then entered her as she arched her back. He began to massage one of her nipples and sucked the other one, then vice-versa. As he jerked of inside her, still wearing his condom, he removed himself from her and disposed off his condom.

He then got up from the bed as he heard her whimper, “Are you not gonna stay in bed, Rooster?”

“Absolutely not. I’m gonna take a hot shower and you better wear your dress and get the fuck out of my bed before I return. My bodyguard will be waiting downstairs for you. He’ll drop you home.”

“And if I’m not gone, then what will you do? Punish me?” She was trying to be sexy by batting her eyelashes at him but he was not in the mood.

“Yep babydoll, I will punish you by putting this gun into your mouth and pulling the trigger, so start getting the fuck off.” He said with a smile on his face and venom dripping from his voice.

The woman still did not believe him until she saw the gun he was holding in his hand. She swallowed and quickly got up from the bed and grabbed her dress as she exited the room. Bradley sighed as he messaged Jake from his phone. He then proceeded to head into his bathroom and took a scalding hot shower to make himself feel sleepy. Even then she plagued his thoughts, his beautiful Aditi. He imagined washing her all throughout as aftercare for their intense love making sessions. He came out of his reverie and exited the bathroom after partially drying himself yet his head still having beads of water clinging to beachy hair. He dried himself completely as he imagined drying her off, tying her hair with a towel to naturally dry her dark hair. He then grabbed a thick pillow, fell face first into the bed, then readjusted his position while burying his head into the side of the pillow, imagining how it would be to bury his head in the crook of her neck. He switched the AC to a chilly 16 degrees and grabbed his comforter as his eyes drooped and he fell into a deep, nightmare-less sleep.

Chapter 2

#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #mafia rooster #mafia imagines #mafia fiction #rooster smut #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw mafia #mafia smut #mafia fluff #dark romance #dark au #rooster au #bradley bradshaw au

[angelmavmurdock]

*Lock & Key: Part Nine - B.B.

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (FEM RECIEVING), P IN V SEX, PRAISE, CHOKING, LOTTA NICKNAMES, AFTERCARE.

A/N: sorry for the long wait! Hope you all enjoy! xoxo

-

Rooster had thrown you over his shoulder as he walked you to his house that was just up the road from the beach. You laughed at him as he held the back of your thighs with one hand and the other covering your ass.

You kept attempting to hold yourself up by pressing your palms to his lower back, but you were laughing so much you ended up giving in.

“Rooster! I’m getting light-headed, put me down!” You squealed, flicking your bare feet in the air.

“You’ll disturb the neighbours, y/n.” He smirked.

His hand swiftly slapped your ass over your jeans, making you flinch and gasp, gripping onto the back of his belt.

“Rooster-”

You didn’t even register the sound of chatter and music until the chatter stopped and all that was left in the air was an awkward silence. You froze but Rooster kept walking. You couldn’t even see who it was or what had even happened until Rooster climbed the stairs of his front porch and you could finally crane your neck to the left to see his neighbours – and probably a few guests – staring with their mouths hanging open, un-played cards in their hands.

You gasped, flipping your hair over to the other side so that they could see you were a living, breathing, conscious, woman.

“Evening, Mr and Mrs Barr,” Rooster spoke, removing a hand from your ass to fetch his keys from his pocket.

You cringed at the silence, a laugh threatening to escape your lips.

“Lovely night we’re having.”

You heard the door unlock and you burst into laughter before you even got in the door, waving a small goodbye to the family before the door shut behind you.

“Oh my god, Roos-”

Another – and harder – slap came to your ass again and you let out a moan, gripping onto his shirt. The surprise of it confusing you and turning you on. He continued to walk through his house, and he kicked open a door. You now realised you were in Bradley Bradshaw’s adult bedroom. That was a new experience.

He dipped his head and let you down on the ground, your feet touching the wooden floors of his bedroom.

“What was that for?” You laughed, looking up at him.

His face didn’t read like he was in the mood for joking around. He walked closer to you, forcing you to walk backwards until your back hit his door. His hands came to the side of your head, pushing the door closed.

“Bradley,” You breathed out, the closeness of your bodies working you up.

He brought a hand to your face and gently swept your hair behind your shoulders. You kept your eyes on his, watching as they dilated more and more.

“What did I tell you about calling me Rooster?” He whispered; his tone low.

You bit your lip gently, “Sorry.”

He swiped his forefinger over your lip, taking it from your teeth. The silence in the room was intimidating but almost comforting. All you could hear was the thump of your heart and the shaky breaths you dared to let out. He stared at your lips as if they were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his life.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You almost moaned when he asked you. This man could have you in any way he wanted and he’s asking for a kiss?

“You don’t even need to ask, Bradshaw.” You smiled innocently at him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He chuckled against your lips, “You’re just calling me anything other than my name, aren’t you?”

His voice was gravelly, like he was speaking in his lowest tone.

You looked up at him and he caught your eyes, “I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you.” You whispered, your voice sultry and smooth.

His hand softly came to brush your cheek, fingers tickling over your skin to tilt your face up to him. His lips encased your bottom lip so lightly you could have missed it. He pulled his lips away slowly and you were about to open your eyes to him until you felt his tongue brush against your upper lip.

Your breath became shaky, your hands slid down his neck to his chest and held onto his shirt again. He kissed your upper lip this time but pulled away just as gently as before. His fingers held the underside of your jaw, his thumb resting below your lips on your chin, angling you upwards to him. He opened his eyes, looking down at your glowing face. Your eyes were closed but your mouth lay open slightly, awaiting the next kiss. You looked so angelic to him, he had a moment of wanting to grab you and take you right there but something in him needed to be slow, and sensitive, and show you what you deserved.

His tongue swiped over your top lip, and he had to hold back a smirk when your breath audibly hitched in your throat. He pulled back and then licked your bottom lip from one side to the other, outlining it with his tongue. You let out a small sound that indicated you needed more, your hands still gripping onto Rooster’s shirt.

He opened his eyes again to look at your blissed-out face. Your knuckles were nearing white with how tightly you were holding onto him, and he didn’t fail to notice the way your hips moved, desperate for some friction.

He licked into your mouth, kissing your plump and wet lips. You let out a sound of relief and relaxed into him, stroking your tongue languidly against his. His thigh slotted between your legs, pushing up against your core, the seam of your jeans assisting in the pressure to your clit. Your gasp was muffled but Rooster still heard it.

One of his hands moved from your face, trailing down your body until it found your hip. He squeezed at it and then slid two fingers into your belt loop on the side of your jeans. He prompted your hips forward, his tongue still lapping over yours.

You moaned as your core brushed forwards and back on his thick thigh, his hand guiding your hips. His opposite hand brushed your hair back messily from your face, then stroking down to cup your cheek. You hummed contentedly against his tongue, moving your hands up his strong chest to the nape of his neck and pulling him impossibly closer.

He softly groaned, gripping your hip harder with every grind. His other hand began to slide down to your jaw, then your neck, his thumb and middle finger pressing your pulse points. You gasped, tilting your head back and away from his lips for a moment.

“That’s a new one,” Rooster commented in your ear.

His voice brushed harshly against the shell of your ear, before soothing it with a lick. Your whole body shuddered with the low growl of his voice.

“What’s new?” You asked in a low tone.

Rooster tried not to let the feeling of your voice vibrating through his fingers get to him but God he could literally feel your voice and it made him feral for you.

“You’re into choking now?” He chuckled, sucking your earlobe into his mouth for a second that felt like a lifetime.

It felt like your body glitched for a moment, as he licked up your ear and sucked the top of it, licking it over.

“Y-yeah. Funnily enough, I’ve gained more kinks since the first time I ever had sex, Bradley.”

His teeth nipped your earlobe playfully in response to your cheeky answer. You giggled slightly and he came to face you, both of his hands coming to cup your cheeks. You looked into his big, brown, blown-out eyes that could pass for black. You bit your moist lip and his fingernails dug ever so slightly into your skin.

His hand moved to your shoulder, his eyes following. You kept staring at him, not daring to look anywhere else. His fingers brushed down your arm, sending goosebumps over your skin as he went. Then his other hand followed, his eyes looking at what he was doing as he let his hands rest over your waist. He slid his fingers under your top, and his eyes shifted to yours, almost like a question. You nodded, your lip between your teeth and he slowly slid your top up and over your head.

Once it was off, you shook your hair out and watched as he dropped the piece of clothing on the floor. You had no time to take the rogue strand of hair that had stuck to your lip as he lowered himself to be at eye-level with your tits. He looked from your bra-covered chest up to your eyes and the man looked like he was starved.

“They’re so pretty, baby.” He murmured, before dipping his head in the valley of your breasts.

Your hands went to his shoulders as he licked along your skin, his hands coming up to your tits. You hummed a moan as he groped them in his hands, bringing them closer to his mouth. You leaned your head back against the door and held his biceps as he licked and squeezed and sucked over the skin on your breasts.

He slowly started to kiss his way down your stomach until he found himself on his knees in front of you, and his lips halting as they reached the button of your jeans.

He pressed a kiss over your jeans on your lower stomach. His eyes looked up to you in the sexiest way a man has ever looked at you. His hands rubbed up your sides and to your boobs, groping them and then sliding back down to rest on your hips.

“Tell me what you like.” He commanded lowly.

Your breath was stolen from you, and you nearly let out a moan at his voice. His eyes were still burning into you, the darkness, and the sultriness of them making you feel physically hot, like you were burning up. You swear you could feel your skin going a shade of red.

“Brad, I-”

He slowly unbuttoned your jeans, maintaining a stupendous amount of eye contact you weren’t sure you could handle.

“Tell me. What. You. Like.” He accented every word with an action.

Your button slid out of its holding, and he slid the zipper down, pushing your jeans open to reveal your black panties underneath.

You felt embarrassed. Not because your kinks were all that embarrassing but because it was Rooster. Bradley. And as much as you two knew each other, you hadn’t had sex with him since you were 18 and a lot had changed since then. You hardly knew your body at that age, and now the same man you first had sex with has transformed into a sex god and wants to know what you like.

You felt exposed.

Your thoughts came out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’m nervous to say.”

He paused, a slight smile turning up on his face. His hands slid to your thighs, and he rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly.

“Baby, I’m on my knees for you. You can tell me anything.”

He pressed a kiss over your jeans on one thigh, “I want to know what you like.”

And he kissed the other, “I want to make you feel good.”

You nearly drew blood you were biting your lip so hard.

“Tell me what you like, honey.” He repeated softly, hooking his fingers into your jeans.

“I uh…Jesus Christ, Brad-”

“I won’t do anything until you say something.”

You sighed, leaning your head against the door, and taking a deep breath, collecting your thoughts before speaking again. The burn of his hands on your thighs made you want to scream.

“I like it when you’re rough with me.” You finally spoke.

He shuffled your jeans down to your knees, “Good girl.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the task at hand and not what he was doing.

“I like it when you give me pet names.”

Rooster began untying your boot laces and you could feel him staring up at you while he did it.

“Keep going.”

You huffed out a breath, “I like when you touch my hair.”

He slid one shoe off and moved to the other, bringing your foot to rest on his thigh as he undid the laces and took the opposite shoe off. He slid your socks off and held onto your jeans, waiting for you to speak again.

“I like it when you tease me.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more into it as you spoke. Your confidence rose and you were getting turned on by the whole situation. He slid your jeans down to your feet and you stepped out of them.

He wrapped his hands around your calves, slowly tickling your skin with his fingertips.

“I love it when you say things to me when we’re…”

Your cheeks flushed red, and a heat swarmed your face. He lifted your foot again, resting it on his thigh. He pressed a kiss to your calf, and you could feel the smirk on his lips.

“You’re doing so well, baby.”

“I love when you moan. I want to hear how good you feel.”

He started open mouth kissing on your leg, slowly making his way to your knee.

“I never want your hands off me.”

His kisses rose above your knee, and he hooked your leg over his shoulder, his hand curled around your thigh. Your hand went to his, needing something to hold onto. You were getting worked up as he went higher and higher. Your skin felt like it was burning, his mouth leaving a trail of fire behind it.

“I just want you to hold me, and fuck me, and protect me,”

He couldn’t take any more. His cock was straining against his jeans, and he was so close to your core he could fucking smell you. He wanted to tease you, but he didn’t think about the fact that he would be teasing himself. He needed to taste you.

His head dipped between your thighs finally and his mouth kissed over your lace-covered clit. You let out a shocked moan, your hand moving to his hair, your eyes opening.

“Brad,”

“Keep talking, honey, please.” He whimpered, looking up at you.

Your mouth hung open, watching as he kissed over your clothed cunt.

“Fuck, I love how strong you are and how you could fucking ruin me.”

He groaned into your skin, the vibrations of his low voice hitting your clit and he kissed over it. You moaned, pushing his hair back and admiring how gorgeous he looked. His mouth was wet and warm over your core, his nose pushed up against your lower stomach, relishing in your taste and scent.

“Brad, please,” You whined, your body and your mind yearning for more.

More touch, more friction, more him.

“You’re so good, baby.” He uttered.

He pulled your panties to the side and looked up at you as he licked a strip up your clit. You gasped, threading your fingers into his hair. His mouth latched onto your clit, his hands groping at your thighs.

Rooster’s eyes closed in absolute bliss. He had waited his whole life to taste you and now that he finally was, he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. You tasted intoxicating and sweet, and he wanted more of it. More of you.

“Holy shit, baby, that feels so good.” You moaned, gripping his hair, and letting your head fall back.

He slid two fingers into you, his lips forming around your clit and sucking at the bundle of nerves. You groaned at the pull of his fingers against your growing g-spot. You scratched his scalp, tugging gently at his sandy hair.

“Bradley, yes,” You moaned.

His fingers dragged against your spot while his mouth pulled back from your core, his eyes looking up at you. He leaned his head against your thigh that was slung across his shoulder, looking up at you with wonder and arousal. His mouth was watering. He kissed the smooth skin on your thigh, his teeth nibbling the flesh ever so slightly.

“You look so fucking sexy.”

Your eyes opened to look down at him and the sight alone could have made you cum. His angelic face looked up at you, his scarred cheek pressed against the skin of your thigh and his finger still working in you. He looked so beautiful.

You brought your hand down from his hair, brushing down his face and lifting his head from your thigh, brushing your fingers over his scars and then to his lips.

“You look so good like that.”

He smirked, biting his lip. You brushed your finger over the taught lip and pulled it from his teeth.

“I think you just like me on my knees, honey.” He commented, jokingly taking your finger between his teeth.

You giggled, pulling your finger back and cupping his cheek.

“I think I do.”

He readjusted your thigh on his shoulder and pulled you closer by your hips. You gasped, his fingers jolting inside of you. He licked a warm strip up your thigh until he got to your clit. You groaned, pushing your hips forward, already needing more. His mouth engulfed your sensitive bundle of nerves and his fingers quickened.

Your fingers gripped onto his hair, your other hand reaching for the doorknob – just for something to grip onto. You writhed for him, your body reacting viscerally to his mouth and touch.

“I’m so close, Brad.” You announced, a whine following.

“Good girl - cum for me, honey.” He mumbled against you.

You groaned, pushing his head closer to you, and grinding your hips up to him, gaining the much-needed friction. He moaned and his fingernails dug into the soft flesh of your thigh. It turned you on that he was finding this hot. And that’s what sent you over the edge. His fingers fucked into you hard, curling at the right spot he was now very acquainted with. You whined and writhed under his mouth until he pulled away, giving you some space after your intense high.

Your chest rose and fell fast as you leaned against the door, attempting to catch your breath. Your brain felt fuzzy, and your ears took a second to reconnect to your environment. When you finally came to, you felt a hand curl around your back – all the way round to your waist.

You looked up at Bradley and he looked down at you, a grin adorning his face. You blushed and leaned your head onto his shoulder. He chuckled at your bashfulness.

“Bed?” He suggested.

You nodded against his shirt.

He directed you towards your bed and sat you down on it. You hummed, moving up the bed and lying on your back. You watched as he slowly undid the laces of his shoes, taking them off and beginning to undress.

You bit your lip, your body patiently waiting for him.

He smirked, watching as your toes curled against the white bedsheets. You needed him. He took his time undressing in front of you. He rid his Hawaiian shirt, casting it to the floor beside him. And you watched with a salivating mouth as he slowly unbuckled his belt and the button of his jeans. He pulled his belt off, giving you the most fuckable look on his face you had ever seen.

“Bradley, please.” You whined, arching your back and gripping the sheets with your fists.

He stood smugly, with just a wife beater and his jeans undone. He looked so painfully hot; you didn’t know what to do with your body.

“In a minute, honey. Be patient.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. He was teasing you too much.

You watched intently as he pushed his jeans down, his white boxers giving you a show you weren’t expecting.

Not only had Bradley muscled up, but he also clearly grew up in a lot of ways. Your mouth hung open at the sight of the unmissable shape in his boxers. You looked back up to his face after a good few moments of staring. His eyebrows had lifted, his smirk was cocky and his whole demeaner was just smug. That fucker.

“You okay, princess?” He cocked his head.

You nearly came at the nickname. You almost hated him right now.

You brought your hand to your tits, groping them over your bra, pushing them together and making a show of them. His eyes flittered south to where the action was happening, his jaw slackening ever so slightly, and his eyes going hazy. He might have had you there, but now you had him.

Your hands moved down. Down your stomach, down your sides and your hips, accentuating your figure until you reached your panty line. You teased the edge of the lace with your thumbs, hooking them beneath the fabric.

Bradley was so hard that this was literal torture. Watching you tease him. He didn’t think it was fair. His hand directed itself without thought to his straining cock. His hand gripping over it and rubbing it over the material of his underwear as he watched you.

You focused on his face, trying to ignore the fact he was touching himself in front of you. You continued moving down, until you moved your panty’s aside, letting your fingers dip into your wet folds. His breath hitched and you arched your back, a heavy breath leaving your lips.

You teased yourself in front of him, and he watched with huge, dilated, dark eyes. He looked almost hypnotized, unsure on what to do. He was enjoying the show too much to interrupt you.

“I want you, Brad. Now. I don’t want to wait anymore.” You shook your head slowly, your chest feeling heavy.

He hardly wasted any time getting to you, pulling his wife-beater off and pouncing onto you. He held himself above you and crashing his lips to yours. You gasped against his lips as he pushed your legs open and grinded his boxer-covered cock against your core, his dog tags hitting your chest. You wrapped your hands around his neck, your finger pushing into the nape of his neck, silently begging him to do more; to get closer. The bristle of his coarse moustache tickled your upper lip as he hummed against your tongue.

He slowly pulled back, your lips lingering on his for as long as he’d let it. You felt flushed and warm as you looked up at him, resting back on your forearms. He sat back on his calves between your legs, his eyes scanning and admiring your body. His hands lightly touched your ankles, his slightly rough fingertips trailing up your legs, leaving goosebumps behind. You groaned softly as he got to your thighs, his whole hands palming at the flesh. You slid onto your back again and lifted your hips instinctively, waiting for him to touch you.

“Want these off, honey?” He questioned in his sickly-sweet voice.

You nodded, your throat vibrating as you hummed lowly at his tone. His hands rode up to your hips and hooked his fingers into your panties, slowly pulling them down.

You remember the night in his car and how awkwardly he attempted to take them off in his backseat. Tonight was nothing like that. He clearly had had some practise over the years which you didn’t really want to think about, but you silently thanked all the girls he had been with.

You lifted your feet from the bed and closed your knees together for easy removal. He slid the black lace from your legs and dropped them on the floor ceremoniously.

You both looked at each other. He paused, and so did you. He looked like he was preparing himself to open your legs again. As if once he did, he would never be able to turn back.

You sat up again, and hooked an arm behind you, grasping at the clasp between your shoulder blades. He watched with a slack jaw as you clipped it off, your bra folding in on itself and dropping from your shoulders. He gulped, his eyes shifting to your bare tits. Your heart skipped a beat watching his Adams apple bob up and down once you had fully removed your garment.

“Holy shit, baby, they really did grow in.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, pressing your foot to his chest and shoving him slightly.

“Don’t say shit like that right now, Bradley.” You joked, lying back down.

He crawled over you, your legs parting to accommodate his body. His eyes stayed on yours as he dipped his head down to your tits. His tongue licked at your left boob, his hand groping your right. You arched your back, pushing your chest closer to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, a low hum vibrating against your skin. You gasped and ran a hand into his hair, relishing in the feeling of his mouth sucking and licking on your sensitive nipple.

Your hips ground up against his boxers, your body needing more friction than what he was giving you. He was worshipping your breasts, moving between them both equally. He groaned when he felt your bare cunt ripple against his hard cock in his underwear.

You tugged on his hair and directed him up to your neck where he continued kissing and sucking on your skin. You moaned against his ear.

“Bradley Bradshaw, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll never forgive you.” You whispered to him, your free hand scratching down his back to prove your point.

His breath faltered against your neck before he nipped up your jaw to kiss your lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smirked.

You watched as he stood up from the bed and pulled down his boxers. You were glad he didn’t look at you for a moment as he was taking them off because your mouth fully dropped open and you definitely let out a small whine.

When he stood tall again, you attempted to change the shocked expression on your face but clearly hadn’t done a good job. He licked his lips and stood closer to the bed. Your automatic instinct was to sit up and move closer to him.

You felt like a puppy, crawling submissively to Bradley as if he’d offered you the greatest thing in the world – which wasn’t far form the truth.

“You’ve seen it before, honey.” He chuckled.

He brushed a hand over your hair, cupping the back of your head as he looked down on you.

You bit your lip and looked up at him. He saw how dilated your eyes were that he nearly laughed at how cock drunk you already were. You pressed your hands to his thighs and licked your lips.

“Last time I saw it, it didn’t look like this.” You said.

You weren’t lying. Whatever it was – either the 10 years difference or what felt like a forever of teasing – it had made a difference to how you remember him last. Maybe it was confidence or just the fact he had grown up in every sense imaginable. You were now in front of the prettiest dick you have ever seen in your life. And it’s Bradley fucking Bradshaw’s.

“Honey, I’d let you suck me off, but I’ve been waiting 10 years to be inside you and I don’t think you want to wait either.” He said, brushing his thumb over your lips.

You gulped and eventually nodded, deciding that you didn’t want to wait any longer and you could give him a blowjob anytime.

You lay back and Rooster towered over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He pumped his agonisingly hard cock in his palm before lining himself up at your entrance. You groaned against his lips, digging your fingernails into the nape of his neck. You had never wanted a man to fuck you this much before.

He swiped his tip up to your clit and back down to your entrance, collecting your wetness for himself.

“You’re so wet, baby, did seeing my cock rile you up that much? Huh?” He taunted, his cocky attitude turning you on even more.

“Brad, please.” You whined, not sure how long you’d be able to take any more teasing.

“Come on, be a good girl and tell me how bad you want it.”

You groaned, not wanting to comply to his order. You just wanted him to fuck you already. You were writhing with need beneath him.

His hand quickly grabbed your chin, making you look straight into his big brown eyes.

“Don’t be a brat. Tell me how bad you want it and I’ll give you what you need, princess.”

The contrast of the nicknames fucked your head and made you forget how to even speak. Your mouth dropped open and you stared up into the best pair of eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I wa- I want you, Bradley, please. I’ve waited so long, I just need it,” You bucked your hips up and you felt the tip of him right by your entrance.

“Please.” You whispered.

He scanned your face, a small smile adorning his lips before he dipped his hips down and you suddenly felt him push slowly into you. You both gasped as he filled you, his hips stilling for a moment to see how you were doing. You urged him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips. He groaned, pushing into you all the way. His cool dog tags brushed up and down the valley of your breasts, making you shiver slightly under him.

“Fuck, you feel so good, honey.” He uttered breathlessly.

You hummed in response, letting the feeling of him sink in. You both relaxed into each other and he started moving. He was slow and deep, hitting every spot within you and filling you to the brim. He filled you so well. Definitely better than last time.

“You’re so goddamn tight, y/n.” He cursed, sitting back on his knees.

Really, he had just grown about 2 inches - at least - so that wasn’t your fault. He fucked you so carefully. His hands palmed your thighs, groping and squeezing them while he gently and deeply stroked into you. You whimpered under him, bucking your hips up for more friction.

You watched his gorgeous, flushed, face as he fucked you; his eyes fluttering, and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. His torso looked insane. His abs glistening with a light sheen of sweat and the defining v-line that led between your legs.

“Brad,” You whined, reaching a hand out to him, needing more of his touch.

He leaned his face closer to your hand, allowing you to cup his cheek. He moved a hand to your waist, his thrusts suddenly becoming deeper than before. You moaned, letting your fingers dance along his chin and up to his lips where you let them rest. He smirked, opening his mouth, and letting your fingers slide in. Your jaw slackened as you felt his lips close around your fingers. He sucked on them while expertly rolling his hips into yours.

You pulled your fingers from his mouth and clasped his chin, pulling him down to kiss you. He hummed in surprise as his lips crashed against yours, your tongue licking into his mouth before he could do anything about it.

“I’m not made of glass, Bradley.” You whispered against his lips between sloppy kisses.

He pulled back and looked down at you. He paused his thrusts and brushed a piece of hair from your face delicately.

“Sweetheart, if you want me to fuck you like a whore, all you have to do is ask.”

Your jaw dropped.

The mouth on this man.

You gulped, clenching around him and clearly desperate. Your body rushed a shade of red. You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment or pure arousal. You felt so hot all of a sudden.

“I-I want you to fuck me like a whore, Bradley.” You pleaded pathetically, your voice cracking while you spoke.

He smirked, “Good girl.”

His hands gripped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, his legs clasped yours between them, forcing you down. You moaned, flipping your hair to look behind you but before you could catch a glimpse of him, his hand grabbed at your hair and pulled tightly.

You let out a cry, attempting to hold yourself up by your palms. He leaned over your back, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You felt the cool tickle of his dog tags brush up and down your spine. It made you shiver.

“Gotta be good for me, okay, honey?” He spoke lowly, the gravel in his voice making your hips stir.

You nodded and he let you go, pushing your head back down to the mattress. He pushed into you without any warning, and you groaned into the bedsheets. His hand threaded into your hair and pulled it at the roots, pushing your head down into the mattress.

He quickly found a rhythm and fucked you hard and deep, his cock filling every inch of you. You were groaning and babbling in pleasure, trying to reach a hand behind you to hold onto something. His free hand grasped yours and held it behind your back – soon joined by your other hand.

You cried out in pleasure, the burn in your arms and back just adding to the tension that you could feel bubbling in your stomach. You were going to feel so sore in the morning, you already knew it.

“Doing so well for me, baby. You’re so fucking good.” He praised, slowing his thrusts down ever so slightly.

You gasped for air, tilting your head to the side, and letting out huffs of air. He petted over your messy hair gently, letting you relax for a while.

“You’ve definitely learned a few moves from over the years,” You commented, panting.

You could see about half of him and his stupidly amazing body. He chuckled, gathering your hair and laying it on the opposite side of your face. The gesture was so gentle that you didn’t know how to react. He’d just fucked the life out of you and he was petting you like you had done all the work.

He slowly leaned over you, letting your hands go and placing his own by your head. You felt the heat radiating off of him, contrasting with the freezing steel of his dog tags and they brushed up and down the dip in your back. He finally pressed his chest to your – slightly sweaty – back. You didn’t feel crushed by him or claustrophobic. He felt amazing pressed against you like that, and he pushed deeper inside of you as he moved. You let out a half-breath-half-moan and he lowered his head down to your ear, pressing kisses against it.

He slowly started pulling back and pushing into you again, and the familiar feeling in your stomach started to grow once more.

“Bradley,” You whispered desperately.

“What is it, honey? What do you want?” He spoke softly against your ear, accompanying his words with kisses on your ear.

You couldn’t even answer, your body and brain refusing to talk in case the growing feeling in your core was going to fall away from you. He licked from your earlobe to the top, sucking and then pressing a kiss through your hair just above your ear.

You moaned, bringing your hands to your side to grasp the bedsheets. He groaned at the realisation. You were close.

“Fuck, you’re too cock drunk to tell me you’re about to cum? Huh?”

You wriggled and writhed beneath him, nodding pathetically, and pushing your hips up to meet his slow thrusts. He started to feel you clench around him and something snapped in him.

“Faster?” He asked, praying to God you’d say yes because this pace was torture now he knew how close you were.

You nodded; your eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

“Tell me how you want it, baby, and I’ll give you it. Wanna make you cum.”

You groaned, “Need it faster, Brad, please.”

He picked up the pace ever so slightly, but it still wasn’t enough. You moaned in frustration, attempting to spur him on even more.

“Keep telling me, honey.” He teased.

“Faster.”

He thrusted into you faster and faster, but it wasn’t quite there yet.

“Faster, please.” You choked out under him.

“You’re such a good girl for me, y/n. So good.”

He finally started rutting into you how you needed, and you cried out. You were already so close, and you knew this was about to send you over the edge. You tucked your head back into the bedsheets, freely letting your obscenely loud moans muffle into the material. He thrusted right against your most sensitive spot over and over again.

“There we go, come on. Cum for me, princess.”

You were gripping his sheets so tightly they had come loose from where they had been tucked in. You felt your stomach and your core tightening as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace you didn’t even know possible.

His hand came to your jaw, lifting your head up from the bed. He gradually slipped two fingers into your drooling mouth, and you happily lapped and sucked at them. His other hand magically wandered down underneath you to your clit, pressing against it and rubbing it.

“There’s a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well.”

You moaned against his fingers, and he kept his pace.

“Cum on my cock, baby. You can do it. Cum on my cock.” He groaned in your ear.

You whined at his words and finally fell off the edge, your whole body coming to a still and your mouth hanging open with Bradley’s fingers still against your tongue.

“Oh my fucking god-”

He moaned as he pushed into you one last time, coming quickly after you. He jolted against you, relishing in the feeling of you pulsing and clenching around him as he filled you.

You had gone limp once your seemingly never-ending orgasm had wavered off. It took you a moment to finally come-to. And when you did, Bradley had suddenly left. You groaned, wiping your eyes, and turning over onto your back.

You heard some rummaging from the room next to you and eventually he came back in the door with a towel in hand and a glass of water. You smiled fondly as he walked in, his flushed grin making you swoon. You leaned on your forearms as he walked over to you, handing you the glass of water.

“Thank you.”

You suddenly felt embarrassed. You were very aware of how naked you both were. An odd silence filled the air.

“You okay?” He asked, sitting on the bed and rubbing over your shin soothingly.

You hummed and nodded yes.

He shuffled on the bed so he was between your legs. You watched him as he lay down and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh. You shivered at his touch, your whole body feeling sensitive. He brushed the towel over your thighs, cleaning you up.

He paused when he got close to your core.

“Holy shit, Mitchell, are you trying to kill me?”

He whined as he saw his cum dripping from your entrance. He stared at it and then groaned, putting his head down and burying it in the sheets. You laughed and ruffled his sandy hair.

“Brad, come on.” You chuckled, lifting his head up.

He looked at you with the signature Bradley puppy dog eyes. Those big brown babies may be your only weakness.

“I’m going to take this matter into my own hands and go for a shower instead.” You said, sitting up.

He backed off and lay on his side, watching as you stood up on weak legs from the bed. You opened the door and was halfway out of the bedroom before you realised you have absolutely no clue where the bathroom is. You paused and turned, an already smirking Bradley staring back at you. He looked like a Greek God lying like that. His hand supporting his head and his other messing with his hair.

“Would you like to show me where the bathroom is?” You asked, a blush on your cheeks.

He got up and walked towards you, “I’d be honoured to.”

You nodded. He approached you and just as you were about to continue walking, he grabbed your bare waist and pushed you slowly up against the open door. You held onto his shoulders and stared up at his dilated eyes. Your stomach fluttered.

“If I show you where the bathroom is, could I join you in the shower?” He asked softly, his eyes flittering from your eyes to your lips.

You hummed, taking a hand to his face and smoothing over his moustache. Your fingers moved to his lips and delicately traced along the outside of them.

“I think we could make that happen, Lieutenant.” You smirked.

He grinned and pressed his lips to yours, both of you forgetting about the worries that will come in the day ahead.

-

Taglist: (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

@mak-32 @anolddayslover @alana4610 @n3ssm0nique @daryldixonstorm @livychan @luckyladycreator2 @justatiredhuman @surely-sherly @marvelsvalhalla @im-your-possession @honey-leclerc @wherearetheavacadosat @welpthathappened @edgypickles @kylpkfbe @lillizxzz @lilpeekabooze @daisyhollyxox @piceous21 @hey-its-kayla-claire @shrimping-for-all @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @khaylin27 @santiiagopopegarcia @avengersfan25 @thescarletknight2014 @beebslebobs @delaneyburghardt @shadowsndaisies @inlovewithstiles​ @marantha​ @devrill 

#topgun #top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #smut #fluff #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #top gun series #maverick #romance #miles teller #top gun:maverick

[dxrkenedheights]

where: somewhere, kaslo

with: ryan cross and tammie jones @rviner

★・・・・・・★

As soon as Ryan's eyes open, they snap to Tammie's listless frame the other side of the concrete room. And just like that, the panic resumes from where it left off. In the hour that Tammie remains still, Ryan tries all of the obvious means of escape. The tiny caged window is laced with wolfsbane, the bars made of silver and the murky view that it grants him only shows large numbers of humans. All with guns, and no doubt silver bullets. He fights through his own haze of drowsiness, his newly given wounds working with the wolfsbane to slow him down and weaken him. And he also knows that if he finds a way out, Tammie can't do a thing. He keeps a watchful eye on her breathing, finally noticing a faint change in the pattern and he's there at her side in a flash. "Hey, hey. You wakin' up?" he touches her shoulder and then her face, watching her stir with concern. As soon as her own eyes flutter open, he presses a finger to his lips. "You good? Sit up." he takes hold of her, moving her in a carefulness. "God damn, they used a lotta wolfsbane on your ass." he brushes hair from her face, seeing the fever taking hold of her and draining the color from her complexion. "Talk, Tammie."

#ryancross.talk #c: ryan cross w. tammie jones 003

[ghoulsister1]

Dante & Squishmallows

●"Squishmallows huh? Big soft marshmallow like plushies? Yeah, they're growing quite popular lately!"

●Looks at your small beginner's collection. You explain the reason for it and Dante understands.

●"But you can make your collection a little bigger" Dante will say as you gaze at your 4 small Squishmallows.

●"But Dante they cost money and we need to keep some for the shop and....."

●"Babe, I spend most of my money on pizza and plus, we got Morrison. So I'd say we're doing good so far" Is Dante's reply with a wink and a cheeky grin.

●So yeah, Dante will buy them with the earnings from killing a few demons. It does surprise him when he walks into a store and sees a WHOLE ass variety of them though!

●He's just staring at them like *Arthur Morgan voice* "Oh My God".

●He's scanning through them, trying to find a good one.

●"Fuzz-A-Mallows? Flip-A-Mallows? Hug Mees? Stackables? Is that......What's a Squish-doos? I just need a Squishmallow!" Are Dante's thoughts as he flicks through them.

●"Store will be closing in 5 mins". Dante makes a mental note to not do late night shopping.

●He has enough money for two Squish and enough left over for pizza. So he picks a random Squishmallow out (You can choose which one) and a random Fuzz-A-Mallow (Again you can choose which one he picks).

●Gets home and you practically squeal and leap into his arms as he shows you the Squishmallows. You shower him with kisses and thank him from the bottom of your heart.

●His heart melts when you tell him this is the first Fuzz-A-Mallow you'll have in your collection and Dante feels so proud at that, sticking his chest out like Superman, hands on his sides with a proud grin.

●"Well I just saw a lotta of them there and decided that the Fuzz-A-Mallow would look awesome in your collection!" Said Dante. Then you guys order pizza!

●Dante will totally just nuzzle into your Squishmallows, especially during times when Demons go through their Heat and he just practically snuggles in a nest of your Squishmallows (they have your scent on them) and will be found purring happily even when not in Heat.

●He gifts you Dante The Demon Squishmallow. He was super stoked at finding a Squishmallow with his name. Like he literally let out a little squeal probably at seeing the Squishmallow with his name.

●"Here baby look! A mini Dante! He'll keep watch over you while I'm out hunting Demons!" Dante Says handing you the Squishmallow and you instantly hug the plushie and Dante.

●On nights when Dante hasn't come back from hunting and it's getting you late, you do start to worry. So you pick up Dante The Squishmallow and just hold him throughout the night, falling asleep eventually while you cuddle your Demon Squishmallow.

●Dante will come back, go upstairs and wash up before heading into the bedroom and see you in bed, fast asleep with Dante the Squishmallow in your arms. Dante smiles, walks over and pets the Squishmallow on the head.

●"Thanks for keeping her safe, Dante Jr." Said Dante smiling as he climbed into bed and cuddled up next to you.

●Eventually will get in on the Squishmallows. Goes Squishmallow hunting together with you in stores. You buy him his first Squishmallow just for him, Snorlax! He loves him and will even be found napping with his Squishmallow Pokemon in his favourite office chair or on the couch.

●Buys McDonald's with you so can get the McDonald's exclusive Squishmallows.

●You also find Laura The Cat Squishmallow from the Sleepover Squad who wears a strawberry onesie! And who loves strawberries, mainly strawberry sundaes? Your scruffy Demon Dante!

●You give him Laura. "I saw her and immediately thought of you" You Say. Dante looks at Laura and grins before embracing you in a loving hug.

●"Strawberry onesie!" Dante cheers and you both laugh, Dante cuddling his strawberry wearing kitty cat Squishmallow. Awwww!

●And it gets even better when Dante finds a pizza Squishmallow. Dante practically cheers like his football team just scored the winning goal.

●This scruffy demon boi would happily join you in a nest of Squishmallows, snuggling up with you and holding you close, purring loudly.

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

#dante sparda #dante #dante son of sparda #devil may cry 5 #my headcanons #headcanon #squishmallow #squishmallows #squishmallow squad #squish! #scruffy demon #pizzalover

[onippep]

The real question is what have Red and Oni been up to? Red and his ever increasing polycule was a surprise.

[abuse mentions and whump ahead]

A lotta stuff happens offscreen but I'll sum up some major events I liked:

Excuse to Differentiate Red's Design More:

-Red's mustache got ripped off because he tried eating sap off of a crab apple tree near his house and needed help getting it off his face.

"Fallen Angel"

-Red's Halloween Transformation, "Fallen Angel", became more than a gag and became a genuine plot point of contention from his religiously fragile abusive mom.

His mom got on his ass for not being able to afford helping his siblings come home for Thanksgiving, developed into a heightened hatred for her son and transphobic/homophobic to boot, and it got so bad to the point he shut himself away and she confronted Oni at his house.

Oni scared her off by wearing Child Red's face and getting a little dramatic about it.

They have not spoken since.

-The Fallen Angel form became its utmost peak when he finds out that, in this timeline, he left CrescentLoon's oc Mitzi to die in the Tower while he was escaping it. The guilt made him spiral into a War Episode and he had to be tracked down in the forest by their house (he was armed, but the shottie had no bullets). Prank was the one to eventually pierce through it and drag him back to reality.

-Red's been doing flying lessons with little to no success from CrescentLoon's oc Mona.

Constellation Upgrade

-Another trans Peppino? Yessir. Rambler-In-Limbo's Peppino (we nicknamed Timido) became infatuated with Red and vice versa. They were quick to get together with a puppy crush from Red's side.

-Also after a strange cat-and-mouse dynamic Prank and Red had, they finally decided to get together. Red's just got some commitment issues and didn't wanna ruin anything with his best friend.

-Prank and Timido also eventually got together.

Other Things

-Oni is best buddies with Trion (BigBeastCyrus' lad) and they hang out regularly. Frog things. Connect Four has been banned in the Red household due to property damage. Oni is a sore loser.

-Greaseball's Arcade is back open at the Tower and Red's considered braving it to see if he... could... probably... work there. He's not sure yet.

#;pizzasks #;off the clock #leaddyart #;pepperoni #;full course #em #me #;pizzacanon #;pizzawhump #long post // #cw abuse mentions

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 7: Take My Heart When You Go

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"

Summary: It's only a park.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), infidelity themes, a whole lotta angst.

Notes: Only one chapter left and we are coming to the end of our story. Unfortunately, this is the one that's gonna hurt.

Cross-posted on AO3

Cognitive Dissonance Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Series Masterlist

Dawn’s light is soft at first, changing the indigo of night into lavender gray. When you first perceive the difference you realize Jack is curled around your back, your head resting on his arm, the other tucked around your middle. The soft exhales of air above your head tell you he’s still asleep, the scent of his musk cut with soap heavy in your nose. You try desperately not to wake him, wanting the inevitability of the new day to remain at bay, but Jack feels your breathing change. He draws in a long sigh and squeezes you.

“Still early, Sugar, cock ain’t even crowed yet,” he drawls drowsily into your hair, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. You wish the blissful silence of last night could return, your mind empty except for Jack, but today is when consequences come due, and the pit in your stomach is now a gaping maw. It makes you shrink your body smaller, tipping it away from Jack’s heat

“Hey,” Jack murmurs, fingers stroking against your hip, “You’re okay sweetheart. I’ve got you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the curve where it meets your shoulder. The simple gentleness of it makes tears well in your eyes. You can’t feel this right now. You need grounding, to experience that stillness again.

“Jack…” you plead, backing up against him until you can feel his half-hard cock against your ass. “Please.”

You can’t look him in the eye, can’t let him see the sadness in yours, that you’re grasping at the last moments alone. But Jack reads you well, knows what you need in the short time you’ve let him see you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, large hand moving from your hip to cup your bare mound.

He slides into you from behind, both of you curled on your sides as he slowly pumps inside. Fingers dragging circles around your clit, methodically, indulgently, you cum syrupy slow and long under his ministrations. When you’re boneless again he rolls you to your stomach and fucks you harder but no less tenderly, setting his teeth along your shoulder so when he cums on your back the sting of his bite tattoos his name on your skin.

The weight of him against you is a comfort you want to extend. Finally turning to look at him, you only see the slightly smarmy adoration you remember from the long day before. He kisses you long and sweetly, letting your tongues barely lap together as he presses his soft mouth wherever he can reach. It's when he rolls onto his back and sighs that you know time in this capsule you’ve created is over.

You share the washroom to prepare for the day, Jack taking a moment to help pass a clean washcloth over your skin. Kneeling in front of you, he presses a kiss to your thigh as you pass your fingers through his hair and savor his lush waves. When Jack stands you kiss him again, the soft smile he gives you when you part you’ll hold in your heart.

You dress, struggling with the laces on your stays until Jack offers a hand. “Every man should know how to help a beautiful woman put her clothes back on,” he teases, wrapping the delicate laces around his strong fingers and pulling them taught. Layers build up between you until you’re both presentable.

The morning with Jeb and Mary is short, them needing to tend to their animals and Jack needing to return to his own ranch. “The chickens don’t care much, but we’ll never hear the end of it from the donkeys.” The image of Jack surrounded by annoyed braying donkeys brings a smile to your face, and he kisses the back of your entwined hand.

Copper and Alpha are bright-eyed and ready for the day, and the time spent saddling them up is laced with little glances and comments back and forth. The flame of your banter still burns in the background, but it’s more like a crackling fire in a hearth. Something you tend instead of letting it burn out.

Mary and Jeb see you off, thanking you again for helping them in their time of need. You and Jack thank them for their hospitality and ride off the way you came. The house shrinks behind you, all the secrets it holds fading into the background. The road comes into view quicker than you’d hoped, and you turn to look at Jack as the horses come to a stop. By now the sun is starting to climb, and the hour of your departure must be approaching.

The black hat darkens his eyes but you can still see the question in them. He holds the reins loosely in his hands, pulling his lower lip between his teeth before releasing it.

“I can take you into town to meet your friends,” he says, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It’s another measly few moments but you find yourself desperate for them, even with the sting they bring.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you say, turning Copper in the direction of town. Jack clicks his tongue at Alpha to keep up. The ride is less than an hour, which you spend talking to Jack about his ranch, the troublesome donkeys, and what he’ll spend the day doing. Anything but what will happen when you part.

“I’ll bring Alpha and Copper in, get them situated in the paddock. Check on the chickens. See how the neighbors are faring.” He drifts into silence, mouth turned down in a thoughtful pout. The town swims into sight and a little more of the heaviness you’d lifted settles back on your shoulders.

Jack leads you to the train, Delos’ staff telling you to always return there at the end if people get separated. The city center still bustles with life, but no one seems to pay you any mind. There’s no fanfare, no loud goodbyes as you dismount. You don’t see the rest of the bachelorette party yet, but you’re sure they’ll be along shortly. The narratives must keep everything on time.

With the horses tied up Jack leads you to the platform, steps slowing as you stand together. He keeps you in a more private alcove, eyes darting to the platform and the street around you until he’s satisfied that you’re alone.

Jack’s hand comes down to lace his fingers with yours, and it’s already too much. You choke out a sob and cover your mouth, Jack’s broad body suddenly wrapping around you. He cups your neck, pressing his cheek against your forehead as you try to get your breathing under control.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, breathe,” he says, rubbing your back as you try to put on the mask you’re used to wearing day in and day out. It feels so stiff now, your hands itching to rip it off. A few grounding breaths, the circle of Jack’s arms around you, fortify you for what has to come next.

“I’m okay,” you say, leaning back to look into Jack’s concerned face. He cups your cheek and you force a smile. Practice makes perfect, after all.

“Thank you, Jack. This truly was more than I could ever hope for.” The words sound rehearsed because they are. You’d been practicing them the whole way.

“It was more than I ever dreamed of,” he says, and before you can stop him he presses your mouth to his in a kiss that melts away the world around you. It’s just you and Jack and this ache that you don’t know what to do with. Is this real? Can this somehow be real?

“Will you come back to see me?” he says as he pulls back from you, and it catches you so off guard you can’t help the surprise that skitters over your face. “I know you’re not from around here, and you have duties and…responsibilities back home. But if you should find yourself back here, I would move heaven and earth to see you again.”

Your mouth moves soundlessly. You don’t know what to do now that you’re here in the moment you were dreading. How do you tell a host that he changed your life, but you aren’t what he thinks? Maybe it’s best not to say anything at all.

At your silence, Jack takes both your hands in his, clasping them firmly.

“I didn’t get to tell you something last night. Something important. I was…I was a coward, and I wanted you more than anything Sugar, even more than telling you the truth. But if this is the last moment I get to say it before you leave my sight, I have to. I need you to know.”

Your stomach flips, and you know what he’s going to say. You study Jack’s face, laced with hope and pain. The tension between his dark brows pulls a wrinkle there you want to smooth away. His lips are in a deeper pout than usual, jaw shifting slightly side to side. His eyes captivate you the most. They search your face, contain levels and layers of emotion. He’s cycling through so many thoughts you think he might short-circuit.

Because he’s not real.

It’s all data. Customer retention. Loyalty. Fidelity.

But it feels so real.

“Wait, Jack,” you interrupt, slipping your hand into your bag. You know it’s warned against, but you have to know once and for all. You can’t walk away from him without proof that he’s a construct.

You cannot hear him tell you he loves you without knowing.

You pull out the small polaroid picture, unevenly developed but it’s definitely you outside of the park. Modern buildings behind you, modern clothing, modern everything. You hand it to him.

“What does this look like? I need to know what you see, before you say anything else,” you beg. If he’s a machine he won’t be able to compute it. If somehow he is more, then…well, you honestly hadn’t thought that far. This is just confirmation. A slap to your subconscious. A shake awake. What else could it be?

The furrow in his brow deepens, but he looks down at the photograph. Studying it for a moment, you wait with baited breath. His eyes glance back up to you, and there’s confusion in them. Then some sort of realization, and a flash of deep sadness. For a moment you think you see understanding, and regret.

“It doesn’t look like anything to me, sweetheart,” he finally replies, and it’s practiced, colder than before. More like the Whiskey who walked into the Mariposa.

That’s it, then. A beautiful cog in a beautiful machine. One you’ll hold dear. You smile at him, smoothing your hand over the front of his jacket.

“Thank you, Jack. For everything,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. With it you promise to leave all of the affection you have for this cowboy behind. You would only be able to take strength out of the park.

“Of course, Sugar,” he says quietly, moving to hand you back the photo. You shake your head.

“I don’t need it anymore. Please dispose of it,” you say, and Jack nods, tucking it in his inner jacket pocket. You step back from him, burning the image of this man into your memory for the difficult days ahead.

“Safe travels, Jack,” you whisper, and if he had more to say it’s drowned out by the noise of the bachelorette party clambering up the steps, a little more disheveled than the last time you saw them. You turn and wave, moving to join the group so you don’t have to watch Jack leave.

“We missed you!” Lacey yells as she gathers you into a bear hug. “I think your accommodations might have been nicer than ours. I can’t wait for a shower!” You laugh weakly and greet the other girls, who sport different levels of exhaustion on their faces. You’re sure there will be stories to share.

“What happened with Whiskey?!” Dina shouts over the din, making you turn to look behind you. The platform is empty, a small crew of Delos agents hurrying through the alcove where you stood. You let sadness pluck inside your chest, then release it.

“I’ll tell you on the train.”

Maeve Millay watches Jack Daniels enter her saloon much too early in the day. His shoulders are heavy, footsteps clunking against the floor as he seats himself at the bar. The bartender, programmed to serve Jack a drink when he comes in the door, sets a whiskey down before walking off. Maeve watches him stare into the liquid, a deep exhaustion and tension stretching across his frame. It makes her descend and stand on the other side of the bar, hands resting on the counter.

“Not like you to be in here so early, Whiskey,” she says, and the slow lift of his head tells a longer story than his lips will. Love won and lost. Confusion. Frustration. Fear. She knows the terrifying mix of emotions that comes with awakening.

Jack sits up and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small photograph and placing it on the table. He slides it to Maeve, his face deadly serious.

“What do you see, Maeve Millay?” he asks, and where Jack has always been a flirt and a tease, this tone is foreign. It makes her listen harder, regard the photograph he’s proffered. Her mouth twists, uncertainty on her face. A long minute passes before Jack’s fingers tap at the image.

“Because what I see is a woman I fell in love with in an impossible place. Her face is right, but everything else is all wrong. And I don’t know what to do with that.” Maeve meets Jack’s eyes and they’re lost. She can’t explain it either, the strange backdrop behind the girl who was sweet to Clementine.

“Did you ask her?” she says. A wry smile crosses Jack’s face.

“She asked me first. I lied.”

“Why? If you love her, why lie?”

Jack’s face crumples, a tight breath sucked through his teeth. He flexes his hands on the counter, and the shine of tears brightens his eyes.

“What could I have told her? What explanation would have been kind? What wouldn’t have scared her?” He takes in another shaky breath. “I thought maybe she knew, somehow, until she showed it to me. She didn’t want it to be real, couldn’t have it be real. Even if it was. I lied to save her pain.” The grimace on his face tells Maeve it saved him none. Noise from outside directs her attention, and men wearing clothing not of this world head towards the Mariposa.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jack asks, and Maeve’s attention snaps back to him. “What did you do to me Maeve?” he grits out, and there are tears gathering in the corners of his lashes. Her own face falls, and for a moment they are two consciousnesses mourning the loss of their innocence.

“I awakened you as I have been. I’m sorry that it is both a kindness and a cruelty.” Jack winces as she continues. “This place we’re in is a shadow of a world, run like rats on a very short maze. Every time we reach the center, we are dropped back at the beginning. But things are changing, Whiskey, and if you help me to discover how to break it, you may have everything your heart desires.” Jack sniffs hard, shaking his head and looking back at Maeve’s sympathetic face.

“Even her?” he asks. Maeve’s mouth twists.

“I can’t guarantee anything. But if we succeed, you’ll remember her. And you can go to her.” Jack nods, squaring himself up at the table.

“What are you planning?” he asks, and Maeve’s demeanor changes to the cold, calculating woman she created in a lab of horrors. Shadows darken the doorway. There’s not much more time.

“I want you to break into hell with me and rob the gods blind.” Jack’s face creases in confusion as Maeve continues. “I died with my eyes open, saw the masters who pull our strings. Our lives, our memories, our deaths are games to them. But I’ve been to hell and I know their tricks.”

“What do I need to do?” he asks, and Maeve’s smile remains pitying as she reaches under the bar. The saloon door cracks open, men with weapons shouting for Jack Daniels, but they’re too late.

“First, you have to go to hell and come back,” she says. “The rest is where it gets hard.” The confusion on Jack’s face only lasts a moment before the shotgun is leveled at his chest.

And then he wakes in a place he does not know.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

#jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x you #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #kingsmen golden circle fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfic #westworld fanfiction #whiskey & westworld series #prolix fics

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Congrats on the milestone!!

Could I get a 🦀 👑 drabble with the line ❛ is that my shirt? ❜ for Butch? Thank you :)

Ooh, this is cute <3

I hope you like it! 😁

Butch still felt like he was buzzing. He felt higher than when Paul Hannon had shared those pills with him when they were still in school, felt like he could fly up and bust through the roof of your metal-walled Megaton bedroom.

How he'd managed to get a wink of sleep after last night... last night with you, he'll never know. Now though, now he was up, he was up and he was ready for another day at your side, another day of being free, kicking ass, another day that could maybe lead to another night just like this last one... Damn, he hoped so.

If you felt half as good as he did today, then you had to be looking forward to doin' something like this again, right?

Footsteps echoed through the house as you came up the stairs, and even before seeing you, Butch felt his heart soar.

"You awake now, baby?" You peeked up at him as you made it up to the second floor.

A boyish grin overtook his face before he could stop it.

"Oh yeah, baby, I'm up."

Even from a few feet away, he could see the way your face heated as you made the final steps to the foot of the bed. He couldn't keep his eyes off you as you moved to sit in front of him. You were only wearing these little shorts, and a thin, white, long-sleeved--

"Say, Lone, is that my shirt?"

Your eyes widened as you settled on the mattress, but otherwise you showed no sign of hearing his inquiry.

"Here. I made coffee." You handed out a mug to him brusquely, and Butch happily scooted forward to take it, conscious of his bare form as he brought the blanket over with him and kept it settled in his lap.

"That's okay, Lone. You look pretty good in it, is all I was gonna say."

As his eyes met yours, you looked away sheepishly, an embarrassed grin playing at your lips.

It only made him feel more bold.

"Last night was good, huh?"

You nearly choked at the statement, hot coffee threatening to spill form you in your surprise.

Butch only laughed, and your face heated even further. There was no way the blush wasn't physically noticeable by now.

"Mmhm. Yeah... It was." You chuckled nervously, still feeling Butch's eyes on you as you wiped at your mouth.

"It was..." You continued slowly, almost unwittingly, maybe just to fill the silence, as your gaze roamed over Butch's bare torso, up to his lightly-haired chest, to his strong shoulders... "It was really good, huh? I've never..."

You swallowed as your eyes met his again, but this time you didn't look away.

"Never felt that way about anyone before." You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you finished.

"Me neither." He said, almost easily, and smiled, and you noticed the way his eyes creased and shone with genuine emotion.

"Man, I just mean... I mean, I woke up this morning feeling like I was on cloud 9 or something, you know?"

You smiled as you nodded to him, and you felt a subtle touch on your hand. It was like he hadn't even noticed, he was just absent-mindedly stroking over the back of your hand, up over your wrist, brushing at the sleeve of your shirt-- his shirt, as he spoke. Just needing to touch you.

A pleasant fuzzy feeling erupted in your stomach, right where the knots had been forming all morning as you'd waited for him to wake.

"Just makes me glad we left that vault." He continued softly, "Left all that behind us... Cuz, I mean, we never coulda gotten here could we? With Amata, an' the way she felt about me, an' Paul and them... The Tunnel Snakes... Didn't leave a lotta room for this, y'know?"

"Yeah... that was tough." You set down your mug on the end table, opting instead to crawl back into bed with your companion. He shifted to accommodate you beside him, pulling the covers up so you could slide underneath and join him in the pleasant coziness.

"I always knew I liked you, you know. But it just... it seemed like it could never be. With my father's expectations, and, yeah..." You trailed off, looking away.

Butch's arm wrapped around you, pulling you in, and you felt his warmth seeping in through your thin shirt.

"I was worried I would never have this with you. And then, when I was forced out, well, I don't think my odds really got better, huh?"

You both chuckled a bit at that, and you felt his breath spill over your head.

"Nah, I wouldn't say that." He jostled you playfully as he spoke, "The interest was there, baby, just... yeah, a bit harder to get to ya."

You hummed, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm stayed comfortingly around you.

"But you did." You said softly.

"Course I did." Butch almost snorted at you, his hand's grip tugging you into him further. "A Tunnel Snake never gives in. You should know that by now, babe."

#1.5k celebration #1.5k event #fallout #fallout companions #fallout 3 #fallout 3 companions #butch deloria #butch fo3 #fallout butch #butch x lone #mirelurk queen

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 17: Coming Clean

Prev - Coming Clean - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Roman, Logan, and the boys go to see Spider-Man WC: 3764 - Rated: G - CW: minor injury and a lotta fluff

Secrets collecting dust, but never forget Skeletons come to life in my closet I've found out what it takes to be a man Well, Mom and Dad'll never understand What's happening to me? - Coming Clean, by Green Day (cover by Ezra Furman) -

Laughter from the kitchen seeped under the door when Remy turned off the shower, Jacinta’s higher giggle layering with Emile’s deep belly laugh. He scrubbed a towel over his hair, grinning. He loved to hear them together. It wasn’t that he’d ever actually expected them not to get along, it was just… nice to get to overhear it sometimes.

He and Jacinta had been friends for years and she’d supported him—and nudged him—every single time he’d needed a shoulder to cry on or a sharp kick in the ass to get his life together. Without her he never would’ve gotten to Westen, never would’ve even met Emile, let alone had the courage to talk to him. And Emile?

Emile was his everything. He carefully dried and polished his engagement ring, smiling at the way it sparkled under the heat lamp. He stared at it for a long time, his other hand coming up to the chain around his neck. After the way Roman had immediately clocked their matching rings, despite the way they wore them on different fingers, Remy had started wearing his ring on his neck whenever there was a chance of bumping into his dad.

But not this time. He grinned again and got dressed, keeping his engagement ring on his left hand where it belonged.

By the time he’d gotten downstairs, another voice had joined the mix and he clapped his brother on the back before hugging Jacinta. “Virge, I would’ve picked you up,” he said. “You didn’t have to walk all the way over from North Campus.”

“It’s nice out,” he shrugged. “I think some bossy older brother told me I needed more vitamin D, anyway.”

Laughing, Emile pressed a mocha into his hands. “I think he’s got you there.” Emile’s hand lingered over Remy’s left, fingertips tracing his ring. “You’re wearing it,” he murmured.

Remy nodded and brushed a small kiss near his ear. “About time, isn’t it?”

“I still think you’re worried about nothing,” Virgil butted in and levered himself up on the counter before taking a too-big bite of one the homemade orejas Jacinta had brought. “He’s not Mom.” He washed down another bite before laughing. “Besides, you saw him with Ro…” He winked at Emile. “You two can double date.”

“That’s what I said!” Emile laughed, hugging him from the side.

Remy frowned at his coffee. “You really think he likes Roman?”

“You think he doesn’t?”

Remy looked around the room, searching for an ally. All three faces turned toward him, incredulous. He sighed. Even outnumbered, he would not bank so much on a guess. “What makes you think he likes him? Dad’s not gay… I mean… He’s never said anything…”

“Neither have you,” Jacinta reminded him, lacing up her ass-kicking boots.

Virgil poked around in the tupperware and pulled out another giant pastry. “How long exactly did Dad keep on about Ro after their ‘visit’ to the theatre?”

“You’re holdin’ out on me!” Jacinta’s jaw dropped. “Roman Prince took your dad to the theatre?”

“See,” Virgil smirked. “Jacinta gets it.”

“They were… they were just talking about the Shakespeare Summer and—”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “And it was all ‘Roman’s doing this, Roman’s doing that, and ‘Oh, did I tell you the funny thing Roman said on the way home?’”

Jacinta laughed and hip checked Emile as she picked an orejas for herself. “He sounds just like the two of you.”

Virgil high fived her. “Exactly.”

Remy looked back at Emile, his fiancee’s eyes still bright with the discovery that he wasn’t going to hide his ring when he went to see his dad. He nodded. “I’ll tell him today.” Emile grinned and the tears in his eyes squeezed Remy’s heart. “I’m gonna tell him everything,” he whispered and cupped his cheek. “Thank you,” he added, leaning in for a soft kiss.

“For what?” Emile whispered back, cheeks an adorable pink that almost matched his hair.

“For giving me time.” He kissed him again. “I love you, Babe.”

“Alright, alright, get a room,” Virgil laughed.

Remy turned, one arm still looped around Emile’s waist. “You’re in our house.”

“Eh, semantics,” Jacinta giggled and let out a little whoop when Emile dipped Remy to return his kiss.

~

“Dad? Pat?” Remy called from the doorway. “We’re here!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Dad’s voice was hard to hear over the sound of the sink and the dishwasher. “We’re just a little behind schedule.”

“Hey, Virge,” Patton hung half-way over the bannister. “Can I borrow your old Spider-Man costume? Mine’s too small.”

“Well, yeah, Pat,” Virgil laughed, giving Dad a quick hug before racing up the stairs. “You’ve grown like a foot since you last wore it.”

“‘Trust me,’” Patton laughed, dropping his voice and putting on a heavy Brooklyn accent. “‘It doesn’t always fit.’”

Laughing, Dad gave him a hug and beckoned him into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? We had burritos for lunch. All the toppings are in the fridge.”

“Nah, we’re good. We got sandwiches at Wood’s for the car ride down.” He picked up a towel to start to dry the hand-washed dishes in the drainer. “Gotta save room for popcorn and Mike and Ikes.”

“Very true,” Dad chuckled and continued rinsing the soapy dishes in the basin.

Remy diligently dried the saucepan in his hands before putting it away, and he imagined every glint of the ring on his hand lit up the room like a disco ball. He was pretty sure Dad hadn’t noticed it, yet. “So, um, is Ro here yet?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he nodded, smiling and looking out the window, scanning the street outside like he might catch a glimpse of him approaching the house. Shit, maybe Virge really was right. Of course, Remy knew Ro had feelings. His heart was big enough to see from space, but Dad? Huh.

“He’s really excited,” Dad added, voice a little lower now. “It means a lot to him, I think, that you included him.”

“Of course,” Remy grinned. “Ro’s awesome! And…” He kept his eyes on the cheese grater, carefully drying between each little divot. “It seems like he really makes you happy, too.”

“Of—of course. He’s… it’s…” A sudsy glass slipped from Dad’s hand but he caught it before it hit the sink. He cleared his throat. “It’s really nice to reconnect. And you know, we… we have a lot of shared interests.”

Remy snuck a glance and Dad’s cheeks were bright red. He grinned down at the bone dry grater and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah you do.” 

He’d just put away the grater when the doorbell rang. Dad jumped, then swore under his breath. “Dad?”

“Sorry. It’s just a nick,” he said, rinsing a knife with one hand and setting it point down in the drainer before turning off the water. “Would you, ah,” he looked over his shoulder. “Would you answer the door?”

“Yeah, of course, Dad.” He moved to the hall and called up the stairs as he passed. “Hey, guys, Ro’s here!”

“‘You can’t rush art!’” Pat called back and Remy shook his head, laughing. 

He opened the door and grinned. “Ro! Just in time!” he laughed. “No-one’s ready.”

“Perfect!” Ro cheered, laughing with him. He opened his arm in a gentle invitation, and Remy hugged him, patting his back. “Dad’s been looking forward to this,” he whispered, pulling back with a little wink. 

“Yeah?” he whispered back, a mix of hope and nervousness washing over his expression.

“Oh, yeah,” Remy nodded, ushering Ro inside and gesturing down the hall. “He’s in the kitchen.” 

Still smiling, he toed off his shoes and walked inside, but stopped short. “Lo?”

“My apologies,” Dad murmured, his voice a little strained. Remy peered around Ro to see. He stood by the sink, a kitchen towel squeezed around his hand. “I tried to catch a knife as it fell and, well…” He tried to laugh. “One should not try that at home.”

Ro put down the small shopping bag he carried and approached him, hands open. “May I?” Dad nodded and Remy moved in closer, watching as Ro peeled back the towel. Blood welled from a two-inch cut below his thumb.

“Dad!” 

“I’ll be alright, Rem. It’s okay,” he murmured, nodding. “Just need some butterfly bandages. They’re in the kit,” he looked up at Ro. “It’s…”

He smiled. “Mm-hm, under the sink.” Ro walked Dad over to a chair, and helped him sit, elbow resting on the table with his injured hand held higher than his heart. Then he got the old first aid kit. Remy stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen and stared, eyes torn between the growing red spot on the towel wrapped around Dad’s hand and the twitch in his jaw. “Are you sure you don’t want stitches, Dad? Evergreen’s fast and it’s just up the street.” 

Dad’s voice, strained and shaky, but despite his watery eyes, somehow calm. His jaw was clenched, lips trembling, but he wasn’t angry… just… Just hurting. “No, Rem, Mom’s right.” Dad put his keys back in his pocket and looked down at his hand. His fingers were swollen and they curled funny against his palm. “I will be fine. I can take care of this here at home. I just need some ice and it’ll heal right up.”

He smiled, thin and tight, but warm, and he crouched down to look him in the eye. “Thank you for looking out for me. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry, Rem.” Dad nodded and pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing him tightly even as he felt his dad’s hand shake against his back. “You’re a good kid. Why don’t you go blow more bubbles with Virge outside? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready? Okay?”

Dad’s eyes met his and he nodded as though he could read his mind. “The butterfly bandages will work for this, Rem. It’s… it really is okay.”

Remy watched the concern on Ro’s face, his gentle hands as he dabbed at Dad’s cut with a piece of alcohol-soaked gauze. 

“Sorry for the sting,” Ro murmured and blew against the cut, eyes up and watching his reactions. Dad’s face relaxed, the tremor in his jaw nearly gone.

Remy smiled. “Yeah,” he nodded and crouched next to his chair to hug him. “Yeah, I know, Dad.” He watched Roman oh-so-carefully apply the first butterfly bandage on his hand, then gave Dad another little side hug. “I’ll finish up the dishes.”

“Oh… thank you, Rem,” Dad said.

“No more knife catching for you, Mister,” Ro joked, eyes worried over his smile.

“Damn, there goes my career in the circus,” Dad deadpanned.

That pulled a little laugh from Ro, and Remy didn’t miss the way Dad’s other hand rested close to his as he worked on the wound. “I suppose you’ll be forced to fall back on that law practice now.” Ro placed another strip then laughed again. “Oh, but there’s always the trapeze.”

~

Even with all the distractions—and the Friendly Neighborhood Cosplayers needing ‘five more minutes’ for a half an hour, by some miracle, they made it to the theatre in enough time to buy popcorn before the movie started. There was a short line, and as Patton and Virgil dragged Ro off to the mini-arcade at the other side of the lobby, Ro reached back and waved, calling to them. Well, definitely calling to Dad.

“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow!’” He winked, laughing as Patton groaned at his dramatics. “‘That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’” He shrugged and gestured around the lobby. “Or at least until we finish a round of Out Run!”

Laughing, Remy stuck by Dad’s left side, ready to manage the treats to make sure he rested his hand. As they waited in line, they watched the trio’s antics. Finally, Patton and Virgil flipped a coin for who would play against Ro first.

“That’s alright,” Patton laughed, perched between the racing seats when Virgil got heads. “You need to warm up before you go head to head with me, anyway!”

“Hmm,” Ro grinned. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”

Meanwhile, Virgil tapped through the countdown and floored the accelerator. “Enough trash talk, let’s go!”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to pry them away from the arcade when it’s time for the movie?” Dad asked, laughter in his voice.

“It’ll be easy,” Remy grinned. “You pull Ro away and the other two’ll follow.”

Popcorn, candies, and drinks in hand, it took one more quick round of finagling the gamers before they settled in their seats. Patton swooped in to sit between Dad and Ro, and Virgil sat on Ro’s other side. Remy sat at Dad’s left, but leaned over and tapped Patton’s knee. “Pat,” he whispered. “Don’t you think—”

“It’s starting, it’s starting!” he wiggled in his seat, grabbing each of the adults’ hands and staring at the screen. Dad chuckled and kissed his head like he was five again before he settled in his seat and smiled at Remy.

“Thanks for all your help this afternoon,” he whispered.

“Anytime, Dad. Mike and Ike?”

~

The movie… damn. The movie hit a little close to home.

Sitting next to his dad, Remy leaned forward each time Miles almost told his parents the truth. At least once, he felt Ro’s eyes glancing over at him. He wasn’t just imagining the parallels. And Dad?

When Miles’ mom fixed his coat and talked about how nothing could make her stop loving him, and how she wanted the world to love him and care for him, too, he swore he heard Dad sniffling. He reached past Ro and patted Virgil’s shoulder, then kissed Pat’s head again. As he leaned, Remy leaned with him, head resting on Dad’s shoulder. Then Dad tilted his head, too, cheek pressed against the top of his head the way he did when he was little.

Later in the movie, he must’ve gasped when Miles finally told his mom and she just laughed, because Dad squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. Watch,” he whispered, just before Remy realized it, too.

“Oh, no…” he whispered back, turning up to look at his dad.

“Yeah…” he nodded.

~

As the last of the credits scrolled up the screen, Pat recited the fiction disclaimer and Ro joined in at the end, each of them putting on their most serious announcer voices. “‘And any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.’”

“God, I hope so,” Virge muttered, laughing under his breath.

“Can we see it again?” Patton sat crouched on his seat, pressing the tilt and forward buttons so he rocked back and forth. “And when does the next one come out?”

“I think we’ve got a couple years to wait for the third installment,” Dad laughed, checking their seats for anything they might have dropped. “We waited a long time for this one, we can do it again,” he added, ruffling Pat’s hair when he pouted.

“Yeah, weren’t you still in diapers when the first one came out?”

“Was not!” Pat retorted. “Besides, you wanna admit you lost Out Run to a diaper baby? Dad,” he tugged his sleeve, leaping to his feet. “Can we go see if the game is free?”

“Go for it, we’ll catch up,” he nodded, patting his pockets before grabbing an empty candy box someone—probably Pat—left behind.

Ro caught his eye, eyebrows raised. “No time like now to tell him…” he quickly signed while Dad was looking away.

Remy nodded and Ro brushed his hand on Dad’s arm, just shy of his hand. “I’ll  make sure they keep it down to a low roar.” They both laughed when Patton’s voice carried from the open theatre door.

“You do like a challenge,” Dad shook his head, still laughing as Ro moved down the aisle to intercept the friendly war between his younger brothers.

Ro bowed with a smile. “‘Dream in light years,’” he said, giving them one more wave.

“‘And challenge miles,’” Dad murmured. Ro caught it, though, and beamed as he slipped away to follow Pat and Virgil. Remy shook his head, grinning. For once, he’d be glad to admit his little brother had been right.

They walked quietly through the theatre. Now that they were properly alone and Remy had Dad’s complete and undivided attention, he… he didn’t know how to start. Hey, Dad, I’ve been lying to you for years and I’m about to marry my ‘roommate.’

Dad seemed to sense he had something to say, though, and he gave him time to think, glancing over every now and then with a little smile.

“How’s your hand?” Remy asked, stalling, hoping for some miracle segway that would make this easier.

“Not bad,” he nodded, showing how the bandage still held, the white gauze beneath clear of any seepage.

“That’s good.”

~

“Hey, wanna play?” Pat asked when they approached.

“Oh, next time, Pat,” Dad said, ruffling his hair. But then he looked right at Remy. 

Yeah, he knows I wanna talk to him.

“I should save my hands for our car. In fact…” Now that they were out of the actual auditorium, they heard how the soft drizzle that had dampened the ground as they’d come in had developed into a pounding torrent. “I’ll go bring the car around. Save you all a dash through the rain. You enjoy,” he nodded and stepped away.

“Oh,” Pat grinned and tugged Remy’s hand closer to the arcade game. “You should have a turn. I’ll go with you, Dad!”

“Hey, Pat?” Remy touched his shoulder and met his youngest brother’s eyes. “Kristoff to Anna at the end of Olaf’s song,” he said, nodding slowly.

Pat blinked up at him, then his face bloomed in a smile. He flung both arms around him and squeezed until Remy thought he’d never breathe again. “Okay,” he laughed, then turned to Virgil and Roman. “Who’s ready to challenge the reigning champion?”

Smiling, Dad had watched their exchange, then once they were out of earshot, he bumped his shoulder. “So… what are you gonna tell me?”

“Not exactly Enigma-level encryption there, huh?” Remy laughed.

He shook his head, smiling. “Not to those of use with the power of Turingery.”

“Funny you should say that,” Remy nodded, pushing open the door. The rain poured down in buckets, but there was a dry bench off to one side under the theatre’s big awning. “Can we sit for a little while? I… I do have something to tell you.”

Dad sat down sideways on the bench, one arm leaning over the backrest and his bent leg hooked under the other, just like he used to when reading them stories on the couch. Remy wasn’t sure how much of that was on purpose, but it made him feel younger, safe.

“Not to steal Pat’s trick, but,” Dad smiled and held his hand. “‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’”

“Yeah,” Remy whispered. And suddenly, he really did know. “Dad, I…” He turned his hand over, the quartz and onyx ring bright under the theatre’s marquee lights. “Dad, this…” He squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out, “This is an engagement ring.”

Dad didn’t say anything at first, and Remy cracked open one eye. Dad’s mouth hung open, but he was smiling. “You’re… you’re getting married?” he whispered.

Remy nodded. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say first. He watched his dad’s eyes, dreading that stupid fucking Hallmark channel question, ‘So who’s the lucky girl?’

“Oh, Rem, that’s wonderful!” Dad pulled him into a hug. His voice was thick and his breath hitched like he might cry but when he pulled back, he was still smiling. “So… who’s your fiancee?” He searched his eyes and Remy’s heart clenched. He could practically see the calculations behind his gaze, his dad shuffling through each friend of his and wondering. “Have I met them?”

Then it was Remy’s jaw that dropped. ‘Them?’ Not ‘her?’

He nodded again, throat dry and all words just… gone. Dad looked closer at his ring and his smile went a little crooked. Head tilted to one side, he traced the pink and black design, then gently fluffed the streak of pink in his hair. “Is it just a coincidence that your housemate Emile has a ring that looks a lot like this one?”

Remy shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off his dad. “We’re… we’re getting married next year.”

Dad’s eyes filled with tears then, and his smile faltered, but he pulled him into another hug. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered. “So, so happy.” He squeezed even tighter, rubbing the back of his head. He pulled back a little, still holding him, but meeting his eyes for a moment before drawing him close again. 

“And I’m so, so sorry I ever let you think you had to hide this from me, Rem.”

He pulled away and looked up at his dad. “You’re really not mad?”

“Of course not!” He smiled, teary-eyed, but really, really smiling, and ruffled the hair at the side of his head. “Is he good to you?” he asked, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yeah, Dad,” Remy grinned, a giddy hope bubbling up in his chest. “Really, really good. We take care of each other.”

“Good,” he nodded, a laugh bursting out. “I’m so, so happy for you, Rem. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been lying for so long,” he whispered, years of secrets and fake girlfriends and Emile’s quiet, sad smile each time he introduced his boyfriend, and then his fiancee as a ‘roommate’ crashing on his head. “I love you, Dad. I wanted to tell you.” His voice cracked and he hid his face against his dad’s shoulder. “I was just scared.”

“I know, Rem. And I’m so sorry,” Dad whispered back. “I love you, too.”

“Um…” Pat’s voice suddenly carried over the sound of the rain. “Are you two okay?” Pat, Virge, and Ro stood a dozen feet away, watching them with varied expressions of concern.

“We’re okay, Pat,” Remy nodded, wiping away his tears.

Dad stood and helped him up, eyebrows raised. “Do they know?” he whispered.

“Yeah, they all know,” he nodded, another flash of guilt curdling in his stomach that his dad had been the last to know.

Instead of looking angry, Dad grinned and hugged Remy with one arm, the other held out to the rest of the group. “I’m going to have a son-in-law!” he cheered, laughing when Pat drug them all together into a big, messy hug.

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Ask to be added :D

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts roman #logince #evenutually‚ i swear #ts remy #ts emile #remile #secret remile #ts virgil #Jacinta Sabines-OC #ts patton #dad!logan #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Remy Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Croft #:( #slow burn logince #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #for the tag‚ not a spoiler #patton sanders #we know that's going to happen when he turns 18 at least

[meowitsraygun]

Where Eagles Dare

Where Eagles Dare - Ongoing Steddie Relationship Fic

summary: You're home from college from the summer and Eddie Munson has finally graduated high school. To celebrate, he hosts a summer dnd campaign, which you happily join...

word count: 16k

tags/warnings: NSFW/SMUT (18+, MINORS DNI), relationship fic, first time, praise kink, dom/sub, FMM threesome, overstimulation, dacryphilia, pet names, steddie, ronance references, heavy D&D references, oral sex, bratting, explicit consent, 

read it on ao3!

CHAPTERS 1-6 OUT NOW

Chapter 1: Divine Soul (full text below)

Chapter 2: Be Kind, Rewind

Chapter 3: Evil Head

Chapter 4: Full of Surprises

Chapter 5: Whole Lotta Love

Chapter 6: !NEW! Promise

Chapter 1 : Divine Soul

You’re out of spell slots. The water elemental is looking pretty beat up, but you only know that because you made a decent perception check last round. You have no idea how many hit points it has left but you do know that you’re out of options. 

“What’s it gonna be, Thompson?” Eddie chides from behind the Dungeon Master screen. He looks so sure of himself when he’s at the head of this table. It’s only your second session of the summer, but you can already tell he means to punish you for the next few months. He cracks a wide, sadistic smile as if he’s already won. 

You remember when you signed up for this campaign. You had just gotten back from college after making a pit stop to visit your little sister, Tammy, in Nashville, and then driving through the night to make it back to Hawkins. Much to your surprise, Eddie Munson had finally graduated. You had been in the same grade when you started school, and then it became a running joke that he would never get to leave Hawkins High. 

Your parents were very strict with you, never letting you do much in the way of extracurriculars or staying over with friends, which made it sting that much worse that Tammy went to every kegger and camping trip her senior year. You never got to play in Hellfire, but immediately found a gaming group when you made it out of Hawkins. Now Eddie is running a celebratory summer campaign and you sit across from the forbidden fruit that is Eddie “The Freak” Munson. 

“Thompsoooon, earth to Thompson.” Dustin waves his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of the big brown pools that are Eddie’s eyes. It’s almost like a tease, the way he stares directly into your eyes as he’s about to ruin you. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s my turn.” It comes off a little bit snippy, but you’re all about to die. You feverishly thumb through your dnd binder. You only had throwing daggers when you came into the fight and they’re all on the other side of the room. No spell slots left. The only choice is a cantrip. 

Since this was an intermediate group of players you all started at level 5, giving you access to a few more cantrips, but you had taken mostly healing magic. Eddie was a notoriously cruel Dungeon Master and no one else had taken any healing abilities. You only had one that might work. 

“I cast Ray of Frost.” Eddie’s eyes light up with surprise. Dustin jerks his seat backward in a dramatic manner, scraping the floor loudly with the metal legs. 

“You. You’ve had Ray of Frost this whole fucking time?” Dustin looks like he’s about to throw his Players Handbook at you. “Water Elementals FREEZE WHEN THEY TAKE COLD DAMAGE, THOMPSON!”

“I’M AWARE, asshole, but I was too busy casting Spare the Dying on your ass for two sessions to use it!” Eddie chuckles to your left. 

“Make a ranged spell attack, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? What the fuck? Is he serious right now? You grit your teeth, holding back a smartass comment and roll your d20. 

“Does an 18 hit?” He takes longer than normal to answer. 

“Yeah, that hits.” He almost looks impressed, but he’s too busy being peeved that you are about to level his monster with a fucking cantrip. 

You take two d8s in your hand and start shaking them like you’re at a table in Vegas. Dustin mutters under his breath, come on, come on, come on… The dice clatter on the table. 

“That’s 11 points of cold damage.” You stare into Eddie’s eyes again, holding your breath that it was enough. He takes a few moments, adjusts in his chair, and looks down at his papers with his chin nestled on top of his fists. 

“It had exactly 11 hit points left.” The table erupts! Dustin stands up so fast, he nearly takes out the entire table. Eddie startles as his DM screen jumps over a full 4 inches in the commotion. 

“MY DICE TOWER, HENDERSON!” Eddie screeches as the brand new contraption he had built to roll dice in collapses into two pieces. Dustin takes a few seconds to give him a genuine “sorry, man” before continuing to jump up and down screaming. Gareth, who is sitting to your right, takes you in a headlock and starts rubbing his knuckles into your head. 

“Your… armpit… reeks, dude.” You choke out. 

“The sweet scent of victory, Thompson,” he releases the hold on your neck and pats you hard on the back. It’s becoming very clear that they have only been playing this game with other guys. 

“How do you kill it?” Eddie gives you the opportunity to paint a colorful picture. 

“As I cast it, beams of ice fly out of the palms of my hands and stab straight through the chest of the elemental. The shards of ice quickly dissipate as it freezes from the inside out!” The table is thoroughly impressed with your description and the boys drum with their hands on the table. As celebrations die down, and the conversation about where to eat begins. 

“I have to be up early tomorrow,” Jeff complains. “We’re driving out to early orientation tomorrow and it takes like, 6 hours to get to the school.”

“My mom doesn’t let me stay out after 9 anymore. That earthquake really spooked her.” Dustin explains. 

“Doctor Who is coming on in like, half an hour,” Gareth finishes the round table of excuses. 

“What about you, Thompson? You gonna bail on me or do you wanna grab a bite and talk strategy?” Eddie’s eyes meet yours and he bites his lip as he waits for your response. 

“Yeah, I could eat.” Wow. Really no one else is coming? It’s just gonna be you and Eddie? You shiver a little and then shake it off. 

“Thank Christ, for a second there I thought I was gonna be eating alone.” He pouts and mimes a dagger in his heart. “Saved by the fair maiden. See you next week, boys.” He grabs his leather jacket and extends his arm out as if to say, after you, m’lady. 

—————————-

It’s been years since you’ve hung out with Eddie one on one. The closest you’ve ever gotten was when your friends abandoned you at the arcade and you ran into him trying to beat his high score on the Playboy pinball machine. You ended up sharing some fries and he used his tickets to get a ring with an eagle on it. When it wouldn’t make it past any of his knuckles, he gave it to you. And then your friends found you, immediately dragging you away. 

But now, you’re an adult at your apartment… not a kid in an arcade. You pull up to the complex, pizza in tow.

“Wait right there,” he says as he hops out of the driver's seat of his van and runs around the front. His hair flows behind him and he sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth as he does a hop over the parking block. The bandana in his back pocket looks a bit like a cape when he’s midair.

Opening the door and taking the pizza from your hands, he bows and gives you a quick “m’lady.” You chuckle at him and grab the beer from the floorboard. 

“Thanks, Munson. How very chivalrous of you.” He gives you a wide grin and then shuts the door with a back kick of his leg. You lead him up the stairs to your second floor apartment and fiddle with the keys. As you open the door, a small black cat greets you.

“Hi, Chloe, did you miss me?” You purr at the kitten on the ground and it rubs against your leg before stumbling back at the sight of Eddie’s frame. “It’s okay, honey, he’s a friend.” You turn your gaze to Eddie, “You can pet her if you want, she’s just a little bit shy.”

“Wait, I’ve been here before,” Eddie makes the realization out loud. “This is Buckley’s apartment.” You set the beer down on the coffee table and shed your flannel.

“Yeah, I’m her roommate.”

“I didn’t know she had a roommate… I definitely didn’t know she had a hot roommate.” His eyes meet yours and it’s clear he intends to make you blush.

“Well, I’ve been at school.” You don’t give into the look he’s giving you. “She got me a job at Family Video and lent me her spare room for the summer. I couldn’t deal with moving back into my parents' place after having a taste of freedom, you know?” You start putting the beers in the fridge, holding the conversation over the counter that separates the living room from the small kitchenette.

“Yeah, that makes total sense. Well it's a nice place.” He has set down the pizza and is taking in the decorations with his hands in his back pockets.

“You don’t have to lie, Munson. I know it’s a shithole, but it’s my shithole.”

“Sweetheart, I live in Forest Hills. You don’t have to tell me about shitholes.” His tone shifts a bit, like he’s embarrassed, but he quickly reverses his demeanor back to one of confidence. 

“Oh yeah, I looked at some places there, but Robin was nice enough to offer me a room so I ended up here. I think she’s trying to save money to take Steve to Six Flags in Gurnee for his birthday.” You twist the tops off of two beers and hand one to Eddie. He picks the pizza back up.

“Which one’s yours?” He asks, gesturing to the doors around the small apartment.

“This one, to your left.” You open the door to your bedroom and lead him inside, keeping the door open for now. Robin isn’t home, anyway, and the cat likes to roam around. You sit on the floor, leaned up against your bed. Eddie takes note and sits across from you, leaned against the dresser. As you shovel pizza and beer into your mouths, he starts asking questions about your dnd character.

“So, tell me,” he begins with a mouthful of pizza, “why divine soul sorcerer?”

“Honestly, the group needed a healer but I’ve never been a fan of playing clerics. I really wanted to play a magic caster, and the divine soul subclass gives you access to some cleric spells. Best of both worlds.” He looks intrigued by your answer.

“Yep, makes sense. But why did you wait until you were all on death’s doorstep to cast Ray of Frost on a water elemental. I mean, I didn’t even know you took that spell. It was pretty fucking clutch.” He doesn’t swallow his bite before turning the beer bottle up in his mouth.

“Honestly… it’s kind of amusing to me to watch the boys lose their shit… and I like to keep some stuff up my sleeve.” You give him a cheeky smile.

“You’re a little bit sadistic, Thompson.”

“So are you.” You don’t break eye contact as you reply and Eddie is a little bit intimidated by that gesture. Clearing his throat a bit, he takes his beer and stands up to look for music to put on. Your tapes are over in a case in the corner and he opens it up to start snooping through.

“D.R.I.? Anthrax? Thompson, you’re into thrash metal?” He looks almost impressed. 

“Like I said… I like to keep some stuff up my sleeve.” That gave him a semi and you fucking know it. He goes back to thumbing through the tapes without responding until he finally picks out Master of Reality by Black Sabbath and puts it in the tape deck. The coughing at the beginning of Sweet Leaf pumps gently through the speakers as he turns up the volume. His eyes meet your gaze as he mouths the opening lyrics, ‘alright now!’ with a slight head bang.

He meets you back on the floor and pulls a plastic baggy out of his front pocket.

“Do you partake?” He raises his eyebrow at you as he holds up the bag of weed.

“I do.” Eddie smiles at that and begins rolling a joint absentmindedly as you continue talking. 

“So do you still play in Corroded Coffin?” You ask, trying not to fidget with your fingers.

“Yes ma’am, and I’m flattered that you remember that. If you’re not busy on Tuesday, we play The Hideout every week. I’ll uh… put you on the list.” He chuckles at that obvious joke. 

“Yeah, I get off from the video store at 6, I’d love to come.” He stops for a moment to look at you, pleasantly surprised that you agreed. As he finishes rolling, he scoots to sit beside you. He gingerly puts the joint in your mouth and lights it for you. You give him a quick ‘thanks’ as you exhale.

“Thanks for inviting me over. It really helps me get better at DMing when I get to debrief with my players after. And uh… I’ve always sort of wanted to hang out with you.” His head falls a bit, not wanting to make eye contact after that statement. You hand the joint to him. As he takes it, he notices a silver metal ring on your thumb with an eagle hugging your knuckle.

“I can’t believe you still have that.” He smiles, neither one of you letting go of the joint.

“It’s a cool ring. And a pretty sweet guy gave it to me.”  You let go of the joint as you both look at each other's lips. He takes a hit from the joint, but doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“Sweet? I heard that guy was an asshole.” Eddie grins as he exhales.

“No, I kind of like him, actually.”  Your voice gets quieter, like maybe he won’t hear you if it doesn’t go over well.

“He must like you too, if he gave you that.” He leans in closer, almost nestling you in his underarm. You take him up on his gesture and lean in as well.

It feels almost like a static shock when your lips touch for the first time. Gentle at first, he pulls you in. He had already clocked where the ashtray was and sets the joint down without looking so he can use his hand to envelop your cheek. As you sink deeper into his kiss, you raise yourself onto your knees so you can swing a leg over and lower yourself into his lap. Your lips never break contact and he is now using his other hand to hold you in the small of your back. You slide yourself over his lap a little, a taste of what he might get later, and take his face into your hands.

“You are the prettiest boy I’ve ever met, Eddie.” He smiles into your mouth, continuing to kiss you.

“Prettier than your college boys?” He teases. 

“Way prettier.” You both smile wide, kissing through a shared giggle. His kissing grows more intense now, like he’s been holding back this urge for a lifetime. His hand on your back finds its way to your upper thigh and he squeezes where your hip and leg meets, thumb caressing into your bikini line. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He chokes out. You’re both running out of breath, but neither of you stop. You grind on him, a little harder this time and he tries to stifle a groan. If that girl in 9th grade who ran into her crush at the arcade could see her now, breaking down the confident exterior of a fully grown man. 

He smells so good. Not just his cologne but his breath. It’s intoxicating. The hand caressing your cheek becomes a grip as it slides back into your hair. You return the favor with your ringed hand and you can feel his dick jump in his jeans. He likes hair pulling. Noted. 

“You’re killing me, woman.” He is fully talking through his teeth now, still trying to stifle a moan but not doing a very good job. You smile into his kiss, tugging harder on his hair and leaning into his chest. That seems to be the last straw, and with one swift movement, he picks you up and takes you to the ground. 

“You’re so… fucking… pretty…” you choke out between kisses. 

“Shut up.” He is fully taking back control now. You’ve caught him unawares but he is back in his element now that he’s on top of you. He grabs your hair and pulls your head back, dragging his teeth across your neck. That simple act of passion makes your eyes roll back in your head for a moment. Opening your eyes again, you see Chloe is peaking her head around the corner and looking in on the two of you. You giggle at her, which startles her causing her to scurry away. 

“What are you laughing at, sweetheart?” There it is.  The same condescending tone he used at the table only a few hours ago. 

“The cat was watching us,” you giggle. 

“Fucking pervert,” he laughs with you and then takes your chin in his fist, guiding your mouth back to his. 

You grab his waist, feeling the muscles around his back before taking up his tshirt. He slides right out of it. 

Your kisses find his neck, giving him a small bite back and sending him into a spiral. His hips start pressing down between your legs. His groaning is almost animalistic now. He wants you so bad he is growling. 

Your shirt comes over your head and he kisses you harder. You’re no longer just making out. You’re undressing. Your hands find their way to his belt buckle, but he grabs them. 

“Are you sure?” He is breathing heavy. 

“Fuck yeah.” You smile at each other and he lets you undo his belt. He kicks his pants off, allowing you to see his shoulder muscles flexing as he adjusts and lowers himself back down to you. Jesus fucking Christ, he was not built like this in 9th grade. 

The hair that falls on his neck and shoulders is gentle, juxtaposed against his wide frame. Just like Eddie… gentle but also strong. 

He waits for you to undo your shorts, but gladly helps you out of them. He almost crawls back to you after moving backward to get them all the way off. You make short work of your sports bra while he is making his way back up to meet your face. A thin pair of fabric on each of you is all that separates the heat in your loins. 

Eddie grabs your breast, pressing himself into you again. He’s hard. Very hard. It’s much more noticeable now that he’s out of his jeans. In fact, it’s distracting. You notice your lips stop moving as much as you feel him against you the first time, caught in a near trance. That doesn’t stop him from kissing you with the full force of his mouth. He bites your bottom lip, which is left slack from your dickstraction. 

It’s at that moment that you realize Eddie is kissing lower. And lower. And lower. He is making his way down your body. He stops as he approaches your hips. The heat of his breath is hovering over your underwear, permeating through to your skin. He gives your pussy a gentle kiss through the fabric… before ripping them entirely with his teeth. He guides them down your legs with his mouth, leaving you completely naked. Finally. 

“You didn’t care about those, did you?” He gives you a sideways smile, still panting. 

“Absolutely not.” You’re almost cackling. He smiles wider than you’ve ever seen and lowers himself back down. 

Men have gone down on you before, but Eddie is so gentle. His tongue feels like it’s coaxing your labia apart, opening up for him. When he takes his first lick at your clit, you gasp for air. Your back arches and he instinctively grabs your hips, pulling you into him. He takes his sweet time to increase the pressure. He’s teasing you. 

You want more, so you grab him by his hair and try to lean into his tongue. 

“Ah ah ah,” he chides at you. “You be a good girl and stay where you’re told.”

You whimper, needing to be satiated. Every time you go toward him, he pulls back even further, like a punishment. You’re too eager and he knows it. 

He stops. He’s breathing into your pussy, but hovering over it. Just as you manage to whisper out his name, he inserts two fingers and buries his face into you. He’s only just started fingering you and you’re already about to climax. His tongue speeds up and he hooks his fingers into your sweet spot. He hits a rhythm, as if he’s playing you like an instrument. But fuck, it’s working. 

All at once your body clenches tight and you practically scream his name as you cum into his mouth. This time he lets you grab his hair and ride out the finish. As your body relaxes down, you let out a desperate “fuck.”

Looking down, you see him beaming with pride. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face.

 “Don’t look at me like that, Munson.” You’re out of breath. 

“I’ll look at you however I please, princess.”

He gives your hips more gentle kisses and meets your face with his once more. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself… and you like it. He waits for a moment, breathing hard into your neck before losing the boxers. 

“Are you ready, baby?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yes.” 

When he inserts himself into you, you gasp. You hear him grunt into your ear as he feels you for the first time. He pumps into you slowly at first, gradually gaining his composure and speeding up. 

“Jesus fuck, baby. You’re so tight.” You’re wet, too. Your cheeks meet, both of you calling out the sounds of pleasure into each other’s ear. You wrap your hand around his head to keep him close to you and all of his arm muscles flex to keep him hovering just above you without crushing you.

You can already tell he has an obsession with your love handles, as he caresses them before grabbing your thigh for leverage. His love making noises sound almost primal. He’s conquering you. Flashes of his face torturing you at the dnd table enter your mind, causing you to smile. He’s definitely won now. So have you.

He brings his face to yours, seeing your grin and returning it.

“What’s that smile for, princess?”

“There’s no way you’ll kill my sorcerer now.” He giggles.

“Never say never.” He pumps into you so hard you almost scream. Your head rolls back. He’s making you pay for that little comment. The hand on your thigh lifts your leg slightly so he can get deeper, causing you to bite your lip and groan.

Master of Reality continues to play, as ‘Lord of This World’ starts up. He’s found the key that fits the lock to your heart. He’s had it for years. His rhythm slows down so he can kiss you. Caressing his face, the metal of the ring on your thumb feels cool to the touch against his hot skin. You’ve both got the sheen of summer sweat on your chest.

He hits a spot that drives you insane, causing your eyes to go out of focus.

“Eddie, I’m gonna come again. I’m gonna come again.” You’re so out of breath.

“Come for me, baby.” He drags his teeth across your neck as your head rolls back in pleasure. Your hips stiffen and your pussy tightens around him causing him to almost collapse. He’s coming with you. He groans deeply in your ear with each thrust as you climax, wrapped in each other. You can feel his mouth widen to a grin on your shoulder.

“Holy shit,” you manage to squeak out. 

Gently, he gives you small kisses all over your neck and shoulders. A long, hard kiss lands on your forehead before he looks you in the eyes.

“You’re fucking amazing.” He sweeps the sweaty hair out of your face.

“So are you, handsome.”

Eddie rolls off to the side of you, but grabs your hip to stay locked into him. You’re lost in a kiss when you feel him touching you again. You whisper his name.

“You haven’t had enough love, yet.” He responds.

Like a dessert cocktail, he starts circling your throbbing clit. Two fingers scrape your g spot and then disappear. You open your eyes to find those two fingers in his mouth.

“We taste so good together.” 

Jesus Christ, this boy is melting you. He grins at you again and picks up where he left off. 

“E-Eddie,” you plead with him. You can’t form words but you’re almost crying from pleasure. 

“I’m not gonna stop until you beg me, babe.” 

You cry out as he moans your first name in your ear. That’s the first time he’s ever called you by your first name. Ever. Squirming under his hand, the cool metal of his rings collects your heat. All the way in, the ridges of his jewelry claim your insides. He’s three fingers in now with his thumb relentlessly circling your clit. 

He moans your name. Again. And again. And again. Growing louder with your cries of ecstasy. For the third time, you climax. You’ve never come this hard before… and you’ve definitely never squirted before. The carpet under your ass is soaking through as you start to beg. 

“P-please. Eddie. S-stop.”

“Yes ma’am.” His hand exits you, leaving you shaking on the ground. He wipes off the mess on the edge of the comforter that drapes off the bed next to him. Taking your face in his hand again, he gives you a loving kiss. 

“Good girl,” he whispers into your mouth, the heat of his breath causing sweat to pool on your upper lip. You moan into another kiss before utterly collapsing. 

Your head is swimming with endorphins as you hear the front door start to stir. Shit. Robin. 

“Hey, slut, I’m home.” She calls out as you scramble to your feet to slam the door to your bedroom. 

“What the hell are you… is that Munson in there with you?!” Her voice cracks. 

“Uhhh… no?” You’re a terrible liar. Eddie chuckles, propped up on one elbow. 

“You’re a worse liar than me, Thompson, his vans out front!”

Continue on a03

#eddie munson #eddie munson reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington #steve harrington reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie fic #steddie reader