#and I really hope he can figure out an approach to this series that keeps it fun and enjoyable to work on and that he can be happy with and

[butchsophiewalten]

Thought I had posted about this already whups. Martin made a really important twitter thread earlier:

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [2]- Summer Breeze

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs on the first chapter! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Summer breeze can be enchanting.

Word Count: 3464

Series Masterlist

There were some days that you just knew it wouldn’t be a good day, and today was exactly one of these days.

It wasn’t because it was Monday morning and you had slept through your alarm. It wasn’t because while taking the fastest shower of your life you realized you had run out of body wash.

It was because while driving Theo to school your car had broken down, and though you didn’t know much about mutant schools, you were pretty sure that they cared about punctuality just like any other school.

“Isn’t this fun, bean?” you asked as you walked with Theo’s hand in yours through the gates, pretending you weren’t stressed out at all so that he would have a good day. “It’s like we’re explorers.”

“It is!” he said, looking around the vast of greenery surrounding you. “Professor X says the mansion was built ages and ages ago.”

“Ages and ages ago?” you asked with a gasp, his backpack slung over your shoulder. “Really?”

“Yes! And Ralph says if we tried to explore the grounds, it would take us a week!”

“Who’s Ralph?”

“He’s my friend,” he said. “He can breathe underwater!”

“Wow,” you said. “That’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, excitement laced in his voice. “He said he saw so many pretty fish in the lake—mommy, can we get a pet fish? Wait no, can we get two?”

“Um…” you trailed off while you approached the mansion with him, students running around in the yard. “Why two?”

“Because we can’t get just one, he’d get bored without a friend!” Theo insisted as the roar of a motorcycle reached you. “Can we get a really big aquarium? Ralph says fish need huge aquariums.”

“We can’t get a huge aquarium, bean,” you said, crouching down to fix his hair and he pulled his brows together.

“But why not?”

“Because.”

“But why not?”

“Because we have no place to put a big aquarium in,” you said patiently and he pouted.

“I’d keep it in my room!”

“Bean.”

“They’d keep you company when I’m here and you come home from work! You said we couldn’t get a dog, but fish don’t need a yard or anything, just an aquarium!”

“Bean, that’s not…”

“I already have names for them both!” he insisted, making you pull your brows together. “The orange one will be Cheeto, and the white one will be Popcorn.”

“Very creative my love, but—”

“Please!” he said. “Please please please? I’ll take care of them when I’m home, I promise!”

“Theo,” you said. “It’s time for your class. Apologize to your teacher for being late, and tell them the car broke down, okay? They can call me if they—”

“Good morning Mr. Wolverine sir!” Theo smiled at someone behind you and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heartbeat speeding up as soon as you did.

Oh.

Alright, so as it turned out, you weren’t daydreaming last week and he was in fact as hot as you remembered.

The leather jacket he was wearing fit him perfectly, making you gawk at his broad figure for a moment before you remembered to look up at his handsome face, but that seemed to make your heartbeat even faster so you shot him a small smile and averted your gaze from him to Theo quickly.

“Logan is fine, bub,” he told Theo and Theo nodded so eagerly that his glasses slipped down his nose, making you reach out to fix them.

“Okay Mr. Logan sir,” he said. “Mommy, if we get an aquarium—”

“We’ll talk about it later bean,” you said as you slipped his backpack off your shoulder and helped him put his arms through the straps. You straightened your back at the same time he reached back to open the zipper of the backpack, the simple motion making him stumble backwards but Logan had already grabbed him by the backpack with one hand and lifted him up in the air to put him back on his feet, Theo letting out a cheerful “whee!”.

“Thanks,” you murmured and ruffled Theo’s hair. “Straight to the class, come on.”

Theo gave you a bright smile, then hugged your legs before turning around to run through the hallway.

“Theo don’t—” you started but heaved a sigh. “Great.”

You could hear Logan huff out a chuckle and you swallowed thickly, then turned to look at him better, the fluttering in your stomach getting even worse upon seeing his gaze on you.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he said and you took a deep breath, shifting your weight.

“It was—it was nice to see you,” you stammered, taking a step past him but stopped when you heard him say your name. The fact that he had remembered your name wasn’t supposed to make your chest tingle, you were sure of it, but you didn’t even try to stop the tentative smile pulling at your lips.

“Yes?” you asked, blinking up at him and he stared at you, then frowned like he was trying to pull himself together.

“Your car broke down?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, pointing at the yard. “Like a mile down the road.”

“You walked here?”

“Uh huh,” you said, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll just go back to the car and call my friend, she knows a guy so I’m like ninety percent sure I can get out of it without having to declare bankruptcy—”

“I can fix it,” he said, motioning at the motorcycle. “Let’s go.”

Your eyes widened and you gawked at him for a moment, then scoffed a nervous laugh and waved a hand in the air.

“Oh no no, there’s no need to…” you trailed off. “Please, I’d hate to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” he said, already walking to the bike and you lingered there for a moment before rushing to catch up with his long strides.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you asked him. “Seriously, if you’re busy or anything, I don’t think—”

“I’m not busy.”

“And your motorcycle looks like a one-person type of motorcycle, I can just walk if you—”

“Are you always this polite, princess?”

Well, that was a sure way to shut you up. Your breath caught in your throat, your head spinning for a moment because of how fast adrenaline rush hit you, warmth blooming in your chest.

“…Yeah,” you said after a pause. “Bites me in the ass most of the time.”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he grabbed the only helmet on the back of the motorcycle, then held it out, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“You?” you asked and he shook his head.

“I don’t need it.”

You took the helmet from him to put it on before he got on the bike and started the engine, and almost automatically your hand shot up to your lips but it hit the helmet, making you grimace. You dug your fingernails into your palms before unclenching your hands again, then got on the bike as well, slowly wrapping your arms around his torso. He took a deep breath as if he had just smelled something sweet, then cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna have to hold on tighter than that.”

“Oh I don’t want to accidentally hurt you,” you said, and the simple sentence managed to coax a chuckle out of him. He turned his head sideways to look at you out of the corner of his eye, your cheeks burning before he turned his head again and the engine roared before it sped off down the road, the movement making you gasp and hold onto him tighter to make sure you wouldn’t fall down.

Fine, maybe today was a good one after all.

Back in high school -and the first year of college-, you had never understood why people were into motorcycle. If anything, they looked rather uncomfortable, not to mention incredibly dangerous, and if it rained it would rain on them, and it would be cold and wet and just unpleasant but now—

Now, hanging onto Logan as the wind whipped around you, trees wheezing past, you were starting to get the appeal.

Logan stopped the motorcycle when you pointed at your car parked at the side of the road, and you pulled back from him even if you didn’t want to, then got off the bike, taking your helmet off and fixing your hair in a haste.

“I didn’t die,” you announced, making him shoot you an amused glance. “That’s nice.”

“That was the expectation?” he asked as you both made your way to your car and you nodded.

“Kind of?” you said, unlocking the car before Logan lifted the hood up to look inside, then tilted his head.

“Hold on,” he muttered and he started unbuttoning his flannel, making your eyes widen. Your heart climbed up to your throat, a sudden warmth swirling your insides and when he slipped his flannel to reveal his very tight white shirt underneath, you gulped, unable to drag your gaze away from him. He didn’t even need to hear your heartbeat, your flustered state was clear as day and your brain recognized him saying something you didn’t even hear with a couple of seconds delay, making your head snap up.

“Huh?”

A cocky smirk curled his lips and you shifted your weight.

“I was um—I was thinking about something,” you stammered and his smirk widened.

“Uh huh,” he said. “I’m gonna go under the car for a moment.”

Never in your entire life had you wanted to be a car more.

“I don’t know if I have that lifter thing—” you started, trying to pull your thoughts together but before you could even finish your sentence, he had already reached down underneath the bumper and lifted the car a bit to get under, making your jaw drop.

Oh alright, so this was just…

You were just fantasizing about him and this whole thing in general, that was the only explanation you could possibly come up with. Any minute now, your alarm would start blaring and you would wake up and go to work with no sign of a very specific, incredibly hot and strong guy.

Jesus, he looked like that and he could lift a car?

“Um—Logan are you okay down there?” you asked, approaching the car to bend down a little. “Do you need help?”

“Nope,” he said, his voice not even strained as if he wasn’t holding up the car with one hand. “Just checking something.”

“The car isn’t gonna fall on you, right?”

“No, I’m holding it.”

“Yeah because that’s the normal answer to that question,” you said, nodding your head. “Sure. Uh, another question, how do you know you can in fact hold up a car? As in, have you tried this before? Because if you die, not only will I be very sad but also I will go to jail and I don’t think I’d survive there, I watched a lot of shows like that and I like flavored coffee a bit too much, and I also don’t know who’d be taking care of Theo—”

“Relax princess,” he cut off your rambling with a chuckle. “It’s fine.”

You hoped your hormones wouldn’t get the best of you and by the time he got out from under the car, you wouldn’t be checking Pinterest for wedding venues but before you could even grab your phone, you heard a car coming to a stop behind you, making you look over your shoulder. The man inside looked you up and down, making you shift your weight, discomfort hitting you out of nowhere as you clenched and unclenched your fists.

You recognized that look just fine.

“Hey there,” he said with a small grin. “Car problems?”

You plastered a well-practiced polite smile on your face. “Yeah but it’s fine, thank you.”

“Get in, I can drive you to the nearest station.”

“Um no sir, thank you,” you said. “I’m actually handling it.”

“Oh come on now,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not a bad guy. Just being helpful.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything else, the car groaned as Logan lifted it a little and got out from under it. You didn’t even need to turn your head to know he was glaring at the man, the look of complete fear crossing the man’s face was enough of a clue and you bit back your smile, raising your brows at him while Logan stood at full height behind you, towering over you.

“She said she’s handling it,” he said, his deep growl making your heart do a happy flip and you nodded.

“Thank you though!” you said with the most customer service level of cheerful voice you could muster without bursting into laughter and the man’s eyes went from you to him, and he gulped down.

“Ye—yeah okay,” he said and drove off, making you let out a giggle and turn to look up at Logan.

“I think you scared him off.”

Logan glared at the direction the man drove off as if he was genuinely contemplating whether to go after him or not, then gritted his teeth and glanced down at you.

“You okay?”

“Sure,” you said. “I have a knife in the glove compartment, just in case. Theo isn’t allowed to open it.”

He shook his head slightly, then went to the motorcycle to grab a couple of tools, wiping the motor oil on his hands onto his shirt. You had to physically force yourself to look up at the sky just so that you could stop the sound threatening to spill from your lips, then rubbed at your eyes as he started working on the car. You lingered in your spot for a moment, then opened the car door to climb up to sit on the roof of the car, making him glance at you over the hood.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you company,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s easier to talk like this.”

He didn’t comment on it, instead returned back to what he was doing and you pressed your lips together, keeping your gaze on him.

“So how’s the crying going?” he asked and you scrunched up your nose.

“It’s going well actually, thank you for asking,” you told him. “I already cried this morning so…”

“Why?”

“There was this cat video,” you said. “It was so adorable. I keep telling Theo he can’t have a pet, I need to remind myself that as well.”

“He wants a fish now?”

“He wants to have a lot of animals,” you told him. “He wants a dog and a cat and now fish. Apparently, his new friend told him there are many pretty ones in the lake, and I’m glad he’s making friends but I’m gonna be so screwed when he finds one who can talk to like, horses or something.”

He scoffed a laugh. “He made friends pretty easily.”

“Oh he could make friends in an empty room.”

“He got that from you or his father?”

“Me,” you said, barely aware of the proud tone in your voice. “He gets everything from me, or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you said, nodding your head. “But I mean, it makes sense when you think about it, considering…”

Logan’s gaze on you was almost too hot. “He’s not around?”

You bit at your thumb, shaking your head. “No.”

Thankfully.

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to change the topic. “What do you do when you’re not fixing cars and scaring off creeps? Do you teach at school?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “I work for Charles.”

“As a teacher?”

“Not necessarily.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them, your arms wrapping around legs.

“An open book, aren’t you?” you asked, making him chuckle.

“Mm, pretty much.”

“Now why would a mysterious man give such short answers?”

He shot you a mischievous smile. “Probably the same reason why a pretty girl would ask so many questions.”

Your heart skipped a happy beat as you felt your cheeks burn, and you had to resist the urge to bury your face to your knees with a squeal so you bit down on your lip, smiling at him. He held your gaze for a moment, making fire spread through your veins before he nodded at you.

“You mind if I try to start it?”

“Oh go ahead,” you said, and he got into your car, then you heard him slide the driver’s seat back to adjust it to his height. “But I had the mechanic check the car like a month ago, so I don’t really think…”

You stopped talking immediately when you heard the roar of the engine as it came to life and a gasp left your lips.

“Are you serious?” you exclaimed while Logan got out of the car and you slid off the roof to jump to the ground.

“Yeah, the next time it happens, just—” he was cut off when you flung yourself to him to hug him tight.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you said with a huge smile. “Seriously Logan, you saved my life!”

 A small chuckle escaped from his lips and his arm sneaked around your waist, and if you didn’t know if better, you could’ve sworn he tilted his head down to get closer to your hair and took a deep breath.

“Not a problem,” he said, his deep voice vibrating in his chest and all of a sudden all your senses were filled with him; his warm body against yours, the pleasant scent of leather, smoke and pine in your lungs, his voice in your ears. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster as you forced yourself to pull back, then craned your head up to look at him.

“Sorry!” you said. “Sorry I’m…me and my friend took this test and apparently my love language is physical touch and I’m not very sure about it really because I kind of feel like it’s a scam but also is it though, because I used to have a cat when I was little and um, I refused to put her down, I always carried her everywhere so that I could hug her all the time and weirdly enough she liked it, which you wouldn’t expect from a cat most of the time but—um—” you paused. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he said, his intense gaze pinning you to your spot and you nibbled on your lip, then willed yourself to take a step back, your hand shooting up to your mouth again.

“How—how do I repay you?”

He shot you a reprimanding look. “You don’t.”

“No but seriously,” you insisted. “There has to be something.”

That had sounded more grateful and less like a porn dialogue in your head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Change your mechanic though, seems like the engine hasn’t been checked in a while.”

“Okay,” you said, forcing yourself to lower your hand. “Thank you. Again.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a small smile and you lingered in your spot for a moment, then got in the car, almost falling on your ass since he had slid the seat back to adjust it to his height. You cleared your throat, trying to keep it cool as you slid it forward, and as soon as the brochures on the dashboard caught your eye, you reached out to grab one and looked up at Logan out the open window.

“I found a way to thank you,” you said with a proud smile, your heart was beating in your throat. “I work at this diner, you should drop by. It’ll be on the house, and the pie is amazing.”

A small smirk curled his lips as he eyed the brochure you were holding up.

“You sure about that?” he asked. “If you feed me, I might come back.”

The warmth bloomed underneath your skin as your smile widened.

“Looking forward to it,” you said, raising the brochure just a little and he chuckled, then took the brochure from you.

“Drive safe,” he said, patting the roof of the car and you nodded your head.

“See you around, Logan,” you said before you drove off, checking him out from the rear mirror until you slowed down at the road junction, then turned the car and let out a breath, trying to keep your attention on the road.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Fuck, he’s too hot.”

[3] - Downpour

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗔 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Ok, so, I realized this would be TOO long, and I decided I'll turn it into a little series, this will all be mostly fluff, I hope you like it ;)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko stood just outside the bustling doors of The Last Drop, his fingers brushing against the worn metal frame. He should go inside. But his feet felt rooted to the ground, as if stepping through the threshold would make this dream—this impossibility���permanent. His head ached, pounding from the sensory overload of it all.

Zaun was alive.

Not just scraping by, not the grimy, cutthroat existence he knew from his world. This Zaun thrived. The sunlight poured into the streets, and it wasn’t muted by the familiar haze of toxins. The air was clean, crisp even, and the people walking by wore smiles so wide it made his chest ache.

No one carried weapons. Children darted through the alleyways, laughing and chasing each other without a care. There was no shimmer-induced violence, no crime, no constant fear. It was… wrong.

He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the familiar ring of the bar’s bell announcing his arrival. The sound brought with it a rush of memories—the Last Drop wasn’t a place for laughter in his Zaun. But here?

Laughter echoed off the walls, bright and unrestrained. His stomach churned.

Near the bar, Silco leaned against the counter, with a glass in hand. He was laughing—Silco was laughing, that man had ruined lives, poisoned Zaun with Shimmer, and killed countless innocents. And now, he stood here, calm and smiling as if his sins had never existed. The sight nearly sent Ekko spinning. Vander was there beside him, his booming voice and broad grin like something out of a half-forgotten dream. They clinked their glasses together, joined by Benzo, whose hearty chuckles filled the room.

Benzo.

Ekko’s breath hitched. He’d never thought he’d see his old mentor again, not in this life. But there he was, as real and alive as the air filling his lungs.

The sound of scraping chairs brought his attention to the two figures approaching him.

“Yo, Ekko!”

Mylo’s voice. Ekko’s stomach twisted again. Mylo and Claggor—older now, but unmistakable—waved at him, wide grins plastered on their faces. They strolled over like this was an ordinary day.

Except it wasn’t.

Not for him.

“Where you been, little man?” Mylo asked, clapping a hand on Ekko’s shoulder like they hadn’t been dead in his world. Claggor chuckled, adding, “Thought we’d have to drag you in here.”

Ekko’s throat tightened. It was surreal talking to ghosts, and his eyes darted between them, searching for something—anything—to ground him. They were so casual, so alive, as if they’d never been stolen by the explosion. The undead boys said something about going to get their drinks and that they would be back in a moment, but their words were white noise against the pounding of his heart. It was as if ghosts had stepped out of the past, solid and warm.

Ekko struggled to keep his breathing steady, his gaze darting between the faces he had mourned and buried in another life. He had thought he’d moved on. He was wrong.

“Are you all right, my boy?” Heimerdinger’s soft voice broke through the fog.

The old yordle was there too, standing on a stool at the far corner of the bar, his ears perked up.

“No,” Ekko admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”

Heimerdinger nodded knowingly, as if he had expected the answer.

“Adjusting to a reality that isn’t your own can be disorienting, to say the least. But don’t worry. We’ll sort it out soon enough.”

The cheer in his voice was almost infuriating. Ekko wanted to demand answers, to ask what exactly had happened and why he was here, but before he could say anything, the bell above the door jingled.

The air shifted.

Ekko turned instinctively, his senses on high alert.

What walked through that door wasn’t danger or threat, but it hit him just as hard. A little boy, no older than six, darted inside with a burst of energy, his laughter echoing like a bell.

His heart stopped.

He looked just like—

“Dad!”

The high-pitched voice shattered his thoughts, and a small body barreled into him. Ekko stumbled back, his arms instinctively wrapping around the boy who had launched himself into his chest.

The little boy looked up at him, a bright, joyful grin lighting up his face.

Ekko froze.

The kid had his eyes—wide and curious—, his hair, even the same nose, the same cheeky smile. It was like looking into a mirror of a younger version of himself.

“Dad?” he repeated, his voice barely audible.

The boy tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. It was a gesture so familiar it sent a chill down Ekko’s spine—you always did that when you didn’t understand something he was saying.

That was Wyeth. His baby. Except he wasn’t a baby anymore.

“Wyeth…” Ekko whispered, his voice cracking.

The boy beamed.

“That’s me!”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

“Look at you, big guy,” Mylo teased, coming up behind him with his drink on hand. “You’re gonna be taller than your old man in no time.”

Wyeth giggled, the sound light and carefree. Ekko stared at the three of them, his throat dry.

This was wrong. It was all wrong.

Why didn’t he remember any of this? Why didn’t he see Wyeth grow? Why did it feel like he had been robbed of something so precious that his chest ached with the loss?

“Little Wyeth causing trouble again, huh?”

Claggor laughed.

“Like father, like son.”

This wasn’t his Zaun. And this wasn’t the Wyeth he’d cradled in his arms just days—or was it hours?—ago in his world.

“Papa?” Wyeth’s small hand tugged at Ekko’s collar, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ekko blinked, swallowing hard.

“Just… thinking.”

The door opened again, and Ekko’s breath caught again.

You stepped in, radiant and full of life, your eyes scanning the room before landing on Ekko. Time seemed to slow as you approached, the crowd parting instinctively for you. You looked different. Less burdened, happier, but still undeniably you.

Your gaze moved between Ekko and the boy, and you set your hands on your hips.

“My love,” you began, a stern edge to your voice. “What did I say about helping Wyeth with his inventions?”

Ekko blinked, caught off guard. He struggled for an answer, but Benzo stepped in with a sheepish grin.

“Don’t look at him, it was me,” Benzo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Kid’s got a knack.”

Your brow furrowed, a mix of exasperation and affection in your expression.

“Your innocent grandson broke a window with that innocent rocket, Benzo.”

Mylo snorted with laughter, only to catch your pointed glare and immediately fall silent. Ekko couldn’t help the corner of his lips twitching upward. You were always like this, commanding a room with little more than a glance. Even here, in this strange world, you hadn’t changed. But as he stared at you, a sinking feeling tugged at his chest. This wasn’t the you he knew—not exactly.

You turned your attention back to Ekko.

“He’s grounded,” you said firmly, then softened. “Where’s Violet?”

For a moment, he thought you were talking about Vi—his Vi, the fierce protector who had been his friend and hero.

He faltered.

“Vi…?”

Before he could stumble over an answer, Claggor spoke up from behind him.

“She’s with Powder.”

Powder? That name didn’t fit the person he knew now. Powder was long gone, buried beneath the chaos of Jinx. And yet, here, it seemed to mean something else entirely.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in Ekko’s demeanor.

“You okay?”

Ekko forced a smile, though his heart felt heavy.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just… tired.”

You reached out, brushing your hand against his arm in a gesture so familiar it sent a pang of longing through him.

“We’ll talk later,” you said softly, your gaze lingering on him before you took Wyeth’s hand and led the boy toward the back of the bar.

You're going to have a serious talk with that little one about his recklessness.

Ekko watched you go, his mind racing. This world was a dream come to life, a version of reality where everything he’d lost had been restored.

But it wasn’t his world. He has to go.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @moonlight-dreamer04 @serena6728 @kriss-w @sturngs @iloveavatar @chaeisbroke

You can ask me to tag you in future chapters if you want! 😸

[mypoisonedvine]

"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙�� 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

~

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

~

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.  

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

[bywons]

YOU KEEP ME WARM ｡｡ stealing their hoodie

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───when you are warmer & cuter in his hoodie

𝑜𝑓 ܃ enhypen x f!r O886 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons bf!enha fluff ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 kissing, skinship ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 ) ｡

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა this one was so cute to write. a shorter hc, but i really hope you will like it, mwah baby, have a good day ^^ 💌

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG gasps as soon as he enters the living room to witness his red hoodie being stolen by his dearest lover, you. he approaches your dozing figure, catching you off guard ad he wraps his arms around you all too sudden, pulling you into a series of kisses on your lips. “caught you red handed, you really thought you could get away with stealing my hoodie?” he murmurs, his voice full of affection. you blink up at him, startled but quickly melting into his embrace. he leans back just enough to meet your eyes, still smiling, “you look way too good in my clothes,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “i might just let you keep it.”

PARK JONGSEONG his heart swells with warmth as he watches you, your figure bundled up in his oversized hoodie, the sleeves slightly covering your hands. the winter fair buzzes with life around you, but all he can focus on is how adorable you look, probably so warm in his clothes. “are you comfortable?” he asks, slowly rubbing the small of your back in a soothing manner, guiding you through the crowd. “always, with you,” you smile, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek which he quickly returns back to your forehead. giggling, he says, “i'm forever glad you're warm enough in my hoodie.”

SIM JAEYUN jake’s eyes light up as soon as he spots you across the street, wearing his favorite black hoodie. his grin widens as he jogs up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “you really know how to make anything look ten times cuter,” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. you giggle, leaning into his embrace as the two of you continue walking down the city street, hand in hand. “is it comfy?” Jake asks, giving your hand a little squeeze. “super comfy,” you reply, glancing at him with a playful smile. “i might never give it back.” jake chuckles softly, stopping in his tracks to press a quick kiss to your temple. “that's fine by me,” he murmurs, his voice warm with affection. “but don’t blame me if I steal it back when you’re not looking.” his eyes twinkle with mischief as you both continue your stroll.

PARK SUNGHOON freezes at the mesmerizing sight in the kitchen. his blue hoodie, loosely hugging your busy frame, making black coffee on the marble counter. you don't notice him at first, but when you do your heart skips a beat, as sunghoon slips his strong arms around around waist from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. “hey, that’s mine,” sunghoon sighs, trying to keep his voice steady, though the soft blush on his cheeks betrays him. you turn, smiling, “you’re right, but i think it looks better on me.” he finally gives in to your antics, and giggled in response, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “i can't lie, you look better in this.”

KIM SUNOO lets out an excited squeal the moment he sees you step out of your room wearing his pink hoodie. “oh my gosh, look at you!” he exclaims, rushing over to wrap you in a hug. you giggle, surprised by his reaction. “you’re the one who left it lying around,” you tease, but sunoo is too busy admiring how cute you look. “you’re literally the most adorable thing ever,” he says, his eyes shining with affection. he twirls you around, his smile never faltering. “you’re keeping that,” he says, not even giving you a chance to argue. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then adds with a playful grin, “we can even match next time.”

YANG JUNGWON spots you sitting by the window, wrapped in his gray hoodie, watching the rain pour down outside. he leans against the doorframe for a moment, just taking in how peaceful you look, the hoodie a bit too big on you but somehow perfect at the same time. “you look cozy,” jungwon sings, breaking the silence as he walks over. you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “i am, don't wanna take it off,” you reply, pulling the hoodie tighter around yourself. jungwon chuckles softly, reaching over to pull the hood over your head. “you’re adorable,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder as the rain continues to fall. “guess this hoodie’s mine now,” you tease, and jungwon just grins, wrapping an arm around you. “only if i get to share it with you.”

NISHIMURA RIKI walks into the game room to find you sitting in front of the TV, wearing his favorite hoodie. his eyes widens in surprise before a mischievous smile creeps onto his face. “hey, that’s my hoodie!” he says, dramatically pointing at you. you look over your shoulder, smirking, “not anymore.” riki laughs, walking over and sitting beside you. “well, you look way cooler in it than i ever did,” he admits, leaning back and resting his arm around your shoulders. you grin, leaning into him as you focus on the game. “it’s super comfy,” you say. he nods, pulling you closer. “i'm not even mad. but you owe me a game,” he teases, kissing the top of your head.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy / translate / upload on any other platform without my permission.

taglist────open. tags in the reblogs 💌 network tag. @/k-labels CLICK ME

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Have You Strung, Strung in My Web

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

You and Billy try to make it clear that you want more, but you keep missing each other.

This series is being discontinued but you are still more than welcome to keep reading!

part one part three

The bed shakes and squeaks as Billy pounds into this girl-what what her name? Jamie? Jackie? Definitely something with a J, but that doesn’t matter. Her usually just calls her “bitch” and she responds to that quite well.

She’s responding exactly the way he wants her too, so close to coming, but he doesn’t care. He actually couldn’t give less of a fuck. He’s only going this to get over you. He knows the only way to get over someone is to get under-well in this case, on top of-someone else.

But it’s not working. In fact, all he can think about is you and the way you made him feel so good. He wants that again. He wants it so bad but he’s not going to ask you not matter how much he wants to.

You have to initiate it because if Billy does, he’s gonna look like a goddamn pussy. He wouldn’t even know how to initiate it. He’s always the one being approached, and he certainly doesn’t fuck the same girl twice. That’s not who he is.

Then what makes you so different? Why are you the one he wants to break all his rules for? He doesn’t know but he wishes he did, wishes he could make sense of his feelings. Because being around you makes him feel like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to put on that persona he does with everyone else.

He zones back in as the girl finishes and he’s never been so eager to pull out, so he does. He didn’t even come and for the first time, he doesn’t care. He just wants her out so he can be left alone.

Thankfully, she knows her place and is quick to leave without even so much as a goodbye. Billy just stands there, facing his closet, now feeling like he needs a shower. He really needs to wash off this girl’s perfume along with the entire experience because now he feels dirty.

He heads to the bathroom and as soon as the faucet is turned on, he immediately feels a lot better. He stands there as the steam fogs up the mirror and as he wipes it away and looks at his reflection, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t recognize himself. Is that a smile he sees? Who hell is that staring back at him? He has no idea but he kind of likes it.

He gets into the shower and feels himself relax. In here, no one can bother him. Not his dad, not Susan or Max, and especially not you. Then why are there flashes of the two of you showering together in his mind?

He wants to have you pinned against the wall as he fucks you senseless, showing you who’s really in control. He let you take over that one time, but if he were to fuck you again, he’d be the one in charge. That’s how he operates, how he likes it. How he needs it. He has say about anything else in his life so sex is what he relies on in order to have some control.

After he’s out of the shower, he’s thinking about calling you. You told him not to be a stranger, but he’s nervous to actually give you a call. He also doesn’t want to go ask Max for your number because he’s sure that she’ll tease him about it.

He wonders if you’ll be home if he just shows up. Or maybe Chief Hopper will be there and grill him about his intentions with you. Yeah, he doesn’t want that. He knows your dad doesn’t approve of him, that much is clear. He’s been arrested for so many fights that he’s seen Jim Hopper more than his own father.

What would Jim say if he knew what Billy and his daughter had gotten up to the other night? He definitely wouldn’t make it out of the cabin alive if he ever found out. Because you’re Jim’s little girl and he’ll always think of you as such no matter how old you get.

He decides against contacting you altogether as he gets dressed. He wouldn’t know what to do or say and figures that you’ll reach out eventually. At least, he really hopes so.

“So you really went and did it?” Steve sighs as he looks at you from where he’s sitting on his couch. He’s there for your Friday night movie you do every week and the two of you are just waiting for the others to show up.

“Yep,” you nod, knowing that he has no interest in hearing anything about it and you respect that.

“Gross,” he grimaces. “Did you…enjoy it?” He honestly just wants to make sure you’re safe and that’s it. He feels like your older brother sometimes even though you’re the same age. He just wants to protect you.

“I did, actually,” you nod, trying really hard to keep the smile off your face. “ And he did too. I sense that he’ll be calling me any minute now.” You glance at the watch on your wrist. Billy hasn’t called you all weekend which doesn’t surprise you. Calling isn’t really his thing and you don’t care anyway. You guess it was only meant to be a one time thing.

“Yeah, good luck with that pipe dream,” Steve scoffs.

“It could happen.” You’ve now crossed your arms over your chest and Steve can’t help but laugh at your optimism.

“Need I remind you that we’re talking about Billy Hargrove. He’s not me.”

“And thank god for that,” You reply as a knock sounds at the door. You head over and open it to see Robin on the other side. You usher her inside and take the six pack of beer she’s carrying as she follows you inside.

Steve takes the beer from you and takes them to the kitchen, leaving you alone with Robin. The two of you take a seat on the couch as you wait for the others to arrive. Robin is someone you feel like you can tell absolutely anything to. There are things you can discuss with her that you just can’t talk about with Steve.

You want to tell her the truth about Billy. That you’re convinced he’s the best you’ve ever had and you’re desperately waiting for him to call you. But you don’t. You can’t. You know how much she dislikes Billy and you supposed she has a right to because it’s for the same reasons why you hated him.

But now that you’ve slept with him, you’ve seen a different side of him. It was softer and gentler and you wonder why he’s not like that all the time. You’re sure that he could get more women into bed if he behaved just a little bit more like Steve. But the day that happens is the day Hell freezes over.

“So what’s new with you?” She asks, scooting closer just in case there’s something you want to say that you don’t want Steve to hear.

“Just been reading,” you reply, which is partially true. You have been reading a lot. So much so that you’ve already finished all the books you own and had to buy a couple more to hold you the last couple weeks of summer.

She eyes you suspiciously and you know that she can tell that there’s something you’re not telling her. She always can. But your lips stay zipped. She’s not getting anything out of you. And you can’t imagine how she would react when you told her that you slept with Billy Hargrove.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, giving her a little nudge. “How has it been with Vicky?”

“Really good,” she replies and you can see a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“Good,” you nod. “I’m really happy for you, Rob.”

“And I’m happy for you,” she nudges you back. “With whatever you’ve got going on.” She winks then stands from the couch. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Robin-“ you’re about to chase after her, but there’s another knock at the door before you can. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie are on the other side, all holding what you asked them to bring except for Eddie who always conveniently forgets every time. You’re not even sure why you even ask anymore.

You usher them all inside and once all of the snacks are on the coffee table, they all take their favorite spots in Steve’s living room. You’re on the couch next to Steve and he starts up the movie which just so happens to be a horror movie that he’s actually terrified to watch.

As you look around at your friends, you hate that you’re wishing that Billy would call, even worse, that you want him right next to you as you cuddle into his chest. You want to cuddle into his chest at the particularly scary parts as he comforts you, telling you that he;s going to be okay as he rubs your back sympathetically. What is wrong with you? Why are you even thinking about him in that way? You slept with him once and automatically think he’d want to be your boyfriend? This is Billy Hargove and Billy most certainly doesn’t have girlfriends.

-

Billy keeps to himself the rest of the day. He doesn’t even go to work because he’s afraid of running into you. He doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret like telling you that he likes you or something. He just holes up in his room and thinks about nothing but you, wondering what you’re up to, if you’re thinking about him like he is about you.

You’ve fucked with his head, used some sort of sorcery on him because he’s never felt this way about anyone before. He wants to see you so badly, even just a glimpse will help. So before he can stop himself, he’s throwing on his shoes and hurrying out the door so fast that Susan isn’t even able to ask him where he’s going. To be honest, he doesn’t even know.

But when he pulls up to your house, he realizes just how crazy he is. Why is he showing up unannounced? He could have at least had the decency to call first. But that’s not him. It’s just like Billy to randomly show up without even so much as a phone call. He doesn’t know why, but he just feels like you deserve better.

He nervously knocks on the door and is taken aback when Jim Hopper answers the door. He looks like he really doesn’t want to be bothered and Billy is so close to just making a run for it. Jim is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, surely wondering what the hell Billy Hargrove is doing at his house.

“Hargrove,” Jim greets and Billy nods, putting on his most charming smile even though he knows it won’t work here.

“Jim, hi.”

“That’s Chief Hopper to you,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Now what do you want?” Billy really is considering leaving because he actually doesn’t know what he’s doing. But then he sees a tiny glimpse of his sister and for once, he’s actually grateful for her existence.

“I’m actually here to pick up my sister. Dinner is soon and Susan wanted to make sure that she was home for it.” He’s smiling even weirder now, so proud of himself coming up with that on the fly.

“Max,” Hopper calls out to the girl and she’s quick to head over to him, her eyes widening at seeing her brother at the Hopper residence twice in one week. “Your brother is here to pick you up.” He says the words like he doesn’t believe Billy and he doesn’t. But he’s going to let him off the hook. This time, at least.

Max heads out the door and as soon as it’s closed, leaving her alone on the porch with her brother. She glares at him, one of the few people who can see through Billy’s bullshit. He’s up to something and she knows exactly what it is. It’s no secret that there’s something going on between the two of you and she’s going to do everything in her power to get the two of you together. Why you would willingly want to spend time with Billy, though, she has no idea.

But if she’s going to help him, he’s going to do something for her. That’s the deal, the only way any of this is going to work. It’s going to take a lot of work to make Billy boyfriend material, a chore in itself, for sure. She wonders how much she can get from him if he offers to help. Because at this rate, he’s going to need all the help he can get.

“What the hell was that?” She finally asks as she follows him down the steps. He’s walking so fast that she can barely keep up.

“Nothing,” he replies as he throws the driver’s side door open, Max heading over to the passenger seat.

“Nothing, right,” she winks as she gets into the car and for once, Billy actually makes sure that she’s fully in the car before he speeds down the road.

-

You and Steve finish cleaning up his very messy living room after the movie. You’re the only ones left. Steve’s going on and on about how unrealistic the movie was. But you’re not listening. You’re wondering why Billy hasn’t called and you don’t know why you care. Clearly it was only meant to be a one-time thing and you were just reading too much into it.

You can get his pretty moans out of your head. Images of his head leaning backwards, those sounds falling from his lips flash across your mind. You need to just get over him. Life’s too short to be anxious about getting a call from a boy who wouldn’t have even given you the time of day of sex hadn’t been on the table. Isn’t that the only reason why he agreed to meet you?

After everything is cleaned up, you say goodbye to Steve and make your way home. Only, you’re not turning onto the right street. You turn left when you’re supposed to go right and now you’ve ended up on the road that you’ve driven down so many times. You recognize every house since you bring El here almost every day before you go to the pool.

You honestly don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not thinking straight and are clearly blinded by your anger. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re so mad at Billy and you feel like he deserves to know how you feel.

You stop in front of the house you could draw from memory then quickly get out of your car. You’re stomping up the driveway and towards the front door, knocking furiously before waiting for someone to answer it.

Just your luck, it’s Max who’s on the other side. She gives you a suspicious look but then it quickly turns almost into pity. You can do so much better than her brother and she has no idea why you’re settling.

“He’s not here,” she tells you and actually feels bad when your face falls. “You just missed him, actually. But don’t worry, I’ll tell him to give you a call.”

“Thanks Max,” you smile lamely and she mimics it before closing the door.

You make the drive home and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night, trying your best to not stare at your phone that sits on your desk. You’re silently begging it to ring, but when it reaches midnight and there’s no call, you eventually just decide to forget about the whole thing and go to bed. From now on, in your mind, Billy Hargrove doesn’t even exist.

[lazypanartist]

HELLO i fucking LOVE ur stobotnik and their kid series!!! its what initially got me to watching the movies and into the sonic franchise as a whole!!! can i request a stobotnik and their kid whos sort of like maria.... like they genuinely love the world and humanity despite (ahem) everything Ivo says. Maybe add in a sprinkle of shadow who sees reader and is taken aback by how similar they are to maria, and now stone + ivo has to deal with their kid having a new guard dog/brother HDSHSDH love ur writing, hope u have a good day!!

AHHH I'M SO GLAD I COULD HELP YOU GET INTO THE SERIES!! Super touched 💙💙💙

*Frantically googling Shadow's personality + Maria Robotnik*

*Having a Crisis™ because WOW OKAY*

Anyways! I've been working on this since the request rolled in, and am 100% invested. Willing to take related requests ^-^

Stobotnik + Sweetheart! Child, + Guard Dog Bestie! Shadow

Note: this is long. Like, LONG long

Your fathers have always loved you, if a tad.. oddly.

Papa Ivo doesn't understand your interest with the rest of humanity.

"What if one of those disgusting cretins gets my baby sick? What if someone actually wanted to hurt you?"

"No, it's far safer for you if you stay by his or Papa Stone's side. Or in the lab. The lab is VERY safe, you know. Well idiot proofed"

Not that he's calling his baby an idiot, of course -

Baba Aban, however, seems to understand you.

Of course he respects Papa's wishes, keeps you close when you do go out, but he tries to sate your interest in humanity best he can.

Always open to questions, and will try to answer everything as age-appropriately as possible.

"What does Papa do all day?"

"He builds things for the government."

"Why?"

"Because it pays well enough to raise you and keeps him busy."

"Why doesn't Papa like other people?"

He.. doesn't have an answer for that one. Not really.

"Just because" sounds too shallow, and "Because people can be horrible" is almost worse.

"To keep you safe."

It's not a lie, but it's not the truth, and the way you huff lets him know you're onto him.

Lets Ivo know before you two are finished with errands, in case you bombard the older man with questions next

They both try and keep you entertained in their own ways

Papa Ivo tries to keep you interested in his machines, how they can be used to better your life

Baba Aban takes you out for errands and helps teach you in the kitchen

Life is as balanced as it can be, considering your solitude growing up

Both dads help you set up a little greenhouse in the traveling lab

"For self sufficiency!" - Papa Ivo

"To give them a new hobby." - Baba Aban

"To keep me busy." - Baby You™

You know what's up

SO since we don't yet know how Shadow calmed tf down in the movie, bare with me here.

After the events of Movie 2 and then the unearthing of Project Shadow, you and your dads are living in the Crabmeat base deep in the Pacific

You and Baba Aban still surface occasionally for groceries and supplies, while Papa Ivo throws himself into his work to distract himself from his latest defeat.

During one surface visit, looking around the Seattle streets while on the back of Baba Aban's motorcycle, you see a strangely familiar figure on a similar vehicle.

You tug on your das's sleeve before gearuring toward the hedgehog

"Baba.. that's not Sonic, is it?"

He looks, does a double take

"Uh.. no."

He's stopping near the same lot the two of you are, and Baba instructs you to message Papa

"Found another alien hedgehog, will update"

He seems wary when the two of you approach, glancing between you as Aban steps closer, an arm in front of your chest to keep you back behind him

"Who are you?"

The hedgehog glares, and you slink just a bit closer to see him

"I am the ultimate life form."

"Decided by who?"

"That's none of your concern."

The two are almost circling one another now, Baba keeping you behind him, even if just barely

"It's my concern if you're here to.. to destroy humanity, or whatever."

You eye him from behind your dad, but he just huffs a laugh

"Destroy? I was created to preserve your human lives."

Your eyes widen again, catching his own before he glanced back towards your Baba

"Is that a problem?"

You tug at Aban's sleeve again, and he slows his movement, letting you peek out more from behind him

"No.. I don't suppose it is."

You finally slip out from behind him, smiling, and Shadow is hit, mentally, with the image of Maria, smile - the same energy as your own

A certain kind of sad loneliness, with an undertone of care

He doesn't know why he thinks of it that way

All he knows is that it feels like home again

The two of you see each other a few times after that, while out on errands with Baba

Papa wants to meet him - of course - but doesn't want another Knuckles situation

(He's very glad that the echidna didn't try and go after you for revenge - after the emerald was taken away, he wasn't sure he could have saved you)

So he lets you - and Stone - approach him on the surface

Not that you know explicitly that you're helping.

Neither of your dad's know about Maria - at least not explicitly - and Shadow still hasn't voiced why he's so attached to you

He finds himself following you whenever he sees you on earth

Of course you're with Baba every time, kept at arms length from Shadow, but he keeps coming back

Papa allows it because he hasn't made any threats

Baba allows it because he seems genuinely friendly

And doesn't seem to recognize him

Finally - FINALLY - Papa asks Baba to help bring him to the base

Respectfully, if possible. He wants to keep the peace, even if it's just for your sake

You get to be the lucky one to invite Shadow to the base

You smile when you ask if he'd like to come, and all he can see is Maria inviting him to see a new breakthrough from her grandfather

He says yes

Immediately

Your smile gets wider

"This is the first time I've invited a friend home!"

His poor, walled-off heart cracks just a little, and he gives Stone a Look™

Baba just glanced away before offering him a ride in a (rented) car

The two of you sit in the back, just talking to each other, while Stone contemplated how he got to driving one of the aliens.

To his home.

With his child in the backseat next to said alien.

As long as you're happy, and Ivo's happy, then he's sure he'll be fine

Shadow is still vague with answers around his past - every time you try and engage him about family, friends, childhood, home - he thinks of Maria

He still tries to answer you - he grew up in space, with his best friend and her grandfather.

She was.. sick. Very sick. And she died.

Conveniently leaving GUN out of the convo.

He sees the sadness you have for him - the same Maria held when she told him to go - and decides that he'll make space for himself in your life

If you let him.

ONLY if you let him.

The three of you make it back to crabmeat safely, and both of your dads hover, but let you interact how you want

Shadow sees a lot of Gerald in your Papa, but won't say anything.

He can't

Not yet, at least

He ends up staying the night, nested on your floor next to your own little fort, facing the door even in his sleep

Ivo tolerates it, if barely

He brought the hedgehog here to study, not to befriend his baby

"What if he has.. space rabies?!"

Stone just rolls his eyes as he shuts your door most the way, alarm systems all in place for the night

"This is the first time they've had a friend over, Ivo. We'll know if something goes wrong - just let them have this."

"This" turned into "a live-in best friend" rather quickly, to both parents' surprise (and your absolute delight)

Eventually, he caves.

He starts answering questions truthfully, the pain still rather fresh in his mind

He tells you about Maria, about GUN, about his purpose and pain

And you're there to comfort him

He's not graphic, and you don't push, and he appreciates it more than he'll voice, even to you

He figures that as long as you're willing to be there and listen, he'll be there to keep you safe company

Both dads are.. annoyed

Ivo thinks this new hedgehog is overbearing - always at your shoulder, keeping you company when he's supposed to be, never seeming to let you out of his sight

Stone thinks he's up to something, the way he lingers between streets when you're out, watching from the shadows (ha)

In reality, he's just trying to keep you safe

Your dads seem to figure that out when one of Ivo's ridiculous predictions comes true - you wander just a bit too far from Baba to look at some UV lights for your plants on Crabmeat, and someone grabs your arm as they walk past, jostling you enough that you yelp

Shadow is there in half a second, sending the aggressor to the floor before tugging on your hand, coaxing you down so he can look at the bruise forming on your bicep

Baba Aban is there a second later, lowering himself and helping Shadow turn your arm before helping you back up

"We should leave."

The three of you are silent until halfway back to the base, when Baba tilts the rearview to look at Shadow while he's druving

"Shadow.."

"What?"

He always glares when he talks to anyone besides you. Typically toward the floor or their chests, but right now he's looking your Baba in the eyes through the mirror, watching your father's gaze soften

*Thank you."

And thank YOU anonymous requester for all of this!

The requests for Sonic Movieverse, and this particular headcanon set, are wide open! Please send me reqs! I'm fixating like a mofo right now!!

[secretsandwriting]

HELLO!!!, can I request a etho fanfic

So this is not hermitcraft but the life series, so I would like the secret life one. like etho got a task but it involves reader, they have to like they both have to kill 2 or 3 warden together, but unfortunately the reader died, but the reader will respawn tho. if you dont want to make it secret life you can do it in hermitcraft, but it will change a few, BUT ITS FINE, That it! I dont know if you get it or not😭😭 but I hope you do get it🥲🥲, THANK YOU💜 LOVE YOUR WORKSS🫶🏻🫶🏻

I got this in April, i'm sorry it took so long!! I hope you see this anon!

Anyways, this has a hint of the hermits being borderline god mentioned bc I love that so much. So many emotions too...

Death Games and Wardens

Etho wasn’t sure how to go on about this, He had to keep his task a secret but it involved you. He stared at the book in his hands.

Kill two wardens with Y/n. Neither of you can die.

The thought of you dying sent a pang of fear through him. Logically he knew that if you died, you would respawn and if you lost your last live you would go back to your home server. Which was hermitcraft, the exact Server he would return to. 

Respawning was bad on a good day, but on a Server with rules that didn't follow Players normal code and instead added some, made respawning even worse. He didn’t want you to go through that. 

“Etho!” His focus was torn away by you. He couldn’t help but relax around you, even when playing against you in death games. Somehow, you brought comfort to him no matter the circumstances. The book burned in his hand as he remembered what your task was. He saw your book in your hands and a nervous grin on your face. “You got a good one?”

“Let's go somewhere private.” You nodded and followed him to the border. Etho glanced at the two sentences in his book and signed. The fear of you getting hurt was back and growing stronger. You broke the silence, apparently he waited too long to start.

“Does your task involve both of us?” He nodded, the sick feeling in his stomach growing. “Good my task does too… Now.. Is yours something we have to do?” Another nod and more stomach pains. “Ok, this is my task.” You handed him your book and he opened it.

Etho’s secret involves you. Do it with him and guess what it is to finish.

Etho may read this book.

He somehow hated this more. You didn’t even know what you were getting into. That meant more room for mistakes and mistakes would lead to a very fast death. You were oblivious to his dilemma and just waited for him to figure it out, assuming he was just trying to figure out how to go about this. The expression on his face was very abnormal but these were death games, they put everyone on edge and filled them with stress.

“Are you ready?” Etho’s head jerked up to look at you. “We only have so much time after all.” He sighed and nodded. He really wanted to come up with a fake task but he knew you wouldn’t like that.

“We need to gear up.”

Fully geared,you followed Etho do into a cave, when the shrieker went off, you hesitated. This wasn’t looking good. This had to be a hard task and probably involved wardens. Something you avoided no matter what. The sound of the Shrieker going off a second time had adrenaline pumping through your veins and terror settling in your bones.

“Etho,” You whispered. “Is the task to summon a warden?” 

“No, but that's your closest guess so far.” You were starting to understand Etho’s hesitation and strange looks. The shrieker went off a third time, darkness filling your vision and the sound of a warden spawning filled your ears.

“It’s over here,” Etho whispered. You weren’t sure what to do until you saw Etho launch himself at it and attack it with his sword. Pulling out your bow, you shot it with arrows both to lower its health and to help Etho out of any sticky situations by drawing its attention away.

To focused on the fight, you didn’t notice the second warden spawn or it approaching from behind until it was too late

Y/n was slain by Warden

Etho’s attention on the warden shattered when he saw the death message and another warden standing in the middle of all your items. His hesitation cost him some hearts but he managed to get away and took the surface without them following. Rushing to spawn he looked around, desperately trying to find you and make sure you were ok. He found you not too far away, sitting on the ground looking a bit dazed.

“Y/n!” Etho grabbed you and held you close. “I’m sorry! I should have noticed! I shouldn’t have let it happen!” You sat in his arms, letting him ramble at you while you readjusted  after a hard respawn. When you finally got yourself together, you listened to Etho’s rambles, pulled yourself out of his grip, and slapped him hard. Etho immediately stopped and jerked back to look at you.

“Pull yourself together!” Etho immediately took a deep breath and squeezed your hand. Once he was calm, you continued. “Etho, I'd respawn no matter what. You know that. If I didn't respawn here, I’d be back on hermitcraft. If I wasn’t there we have enough people that are almost gods on the server I'd be found and brought back.”

Etho shuffled forward and dropped his head on your shoulder, he wrapped his arms around your waist and his shoulders shook with sobs. You ran your fingers through his hair while your other one rested on his back, you slowly rocked side to side. From your spot you could see a few of the red names started to surround you.

Your communicators buzzed with the 5 minute warning but you knew you wouldn’t make it until then. Not with the intent in Gem’s face as she came closer. She paused and pulled out her communicator and typed for a second before flipping it so you could see the message to Xisuma letting him know to expect you. Something only done when one of the players was having a rough time. She smiled when you mouthed a thank you and slipped it back into her pocket before lifting her sword.

Etho was slain by Geminitay

Y/n was slain by Geminitay

Waking up on hermitcraft was disorientating. It always was when you respawn from another server due to death. Your communicator buzzed with a message from Xisuma.

Xisuma: Did you respawn ok? Gem messaged ahead, she didn’t specify who

Y/n: Yeah

Y/n: Etho was having some trouble at the end. Did he respond?

Xisuma: No, I was just about to go check on him.

Y/n: I’ll do it. I’ll let you know if anything went wrong with his respawn.

Xisuma: Ok

You got up from your temporary bed at your mega base and made sure your elytra was equipped before shooting off to Etho’s base. You searched the entire place, the only sign of Etho was the messy bed and his communicator on the floor. So you took a gamble, instead of flying you ran down the path leading to your starter base. Looking for a mop of white hair along the way. With no sign of him along the way, you looked through your house. Stopping in the doorway of your room to see Etho sitting on the floor next to your bed.

“Etho.” He didn’t seem to hear you. “Etho!” You tried again, nothing. Carefully, you moved towards him, making sure to go slow. When you were close enough, you gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He jerked out of your grip and looked up at you.

“Y/n!” He launched himself at you, pulling you close and holding you tight, relief crawled up his spine as he clung to you. “I thought you were gone.”

“I just respawned at my mega base. I told you I would respawn… Come on, let's lay down for a bit.” You managed to get Etho into your bed and when he relaxed you sent a message to Xisuma.

Y/n: Etho’s ok, just the death part of the death games messing with his head.

Xisuma: Ok, take care of him. Let us know if you need anything.

With that out of the way, you put your communicator away and decided to get some rest. Maybe when you woke up, the two of you could figure out what you were. But for now, you were tired.

Etho x Y/n shippers

Geminitay: I kinda felt bad, Etho was clinging to Y/n when I killed them. I mean CLINGING

Xisuma: Y/n went to help Etho right after his respawn when he wouldn’t respond and then let me know he was ok.

Xisuma: What happened?

Grian: So I might have purposely messed with their secrets so they had to work together. I forgot it might have been a bit traumatic.

ImpulseSV: What were their secrets?

Grian: Ethos was to kill two wardens with Y/n and not die and Y/n’s was to help and guess what it was.

Xisuma: Etho is literally laying on top of Y/n in their sleep

Geminitay: THEY'RE SLEEPING TOGETHER

Grian: THEY’RE CUDDLING???

Xisuma: [Image]

Tangotek: You think they’ll actually talk this through after this or not?

You two did not in fact talk about it afterwards. Both of you just acted like it didn't happen and the group chat with every hermit except the two of you were outraged

[hellfire--cult]

Stripper!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

wc: 7.5k

Request by @pastel-pillows: Billy gets hired for a private party. The only rules is to keep it in his pants and for the clients to not touch him... Unless he says so.

+18 MDNI, stipper dancing, grinding, hard on, fingering, roughness, p in v, billy is OOC, he is not an ass, smut, smut, smut

A/N: This is Stripper!Billy from my Do I wanna Know Series. I love you ash for this request, and I hope you and every other horny person for Billy enjoys it.

REBLOGS are true support.

no charge

Billy looked at himself once more in the mirror before grabbing his duffel bag filled with other clothes and things he would need for tonight.

He pays no mind to these kinds of jobs, and Joyce is the one that arranges them. Clients can approach her to talk about hiring one of the strippers for one night for a private gathering or party. Joyce lays down the rules for every client, and she ensures their safety by having their GPS turned on at all times in their cellphones. The job lasts two hours, and if in two hours Joyce doesn’t have any notice from them, she sends someone to the address of the place they are heading over. 

The client must give many personal details such as their full name, legal address, real phone number and it is all cross checked with their IDs. Joyce is very strict when it comes to the boys' safety, so he is really thankful for her taking care of them this way. Not many bosses work the way she does, but Billy guesses it’s just her motherly instinct.

Today he was hired for a birthday party. The one that hired him was the birthday girl's best friend, and she was very direct when she asked for Billy specifically. He walked down the stairs and to see Steve playing with Eddie with the switch controllers as they stared at the screen. “Stop throwing shells at me!” Steve yells at Eddie who only laughs at his friend as he now stands at 4th place in Mario Kart. Billy rolls his eyes as he walks towards the front door.

“Hey! Remember to put the GPS on! We’ll be watching!” Eddie yells at him and Billy only sighs but internally he is grateful he is being taken care of by his closest friends as well.

“Yeah mom.” Billy retorts and then Steve is the one that speaks next.

“Don’t stick the dick in!” 

Billy only groans at that and walks out of the apartment to start heading to the address of the birthday girl. He knows about the rules and the clients know about them too. This is a dance only. The only hands that can be pressed on him are just on his shoulders and if he allows them, on his chest. They cannot touch him indecently in any way or at any point. If the rule is broken he has all the right to head out because he feels uncomfortable and he gets paid in full anyway. 

That happened a few times, but mostly with the older crowd. Women in their 40’s or 50’s. This party was of people his age from what he had read. He threw the duffel bag in the back of his camaro and turned on his GPS and immediately sent a message to Joyce telling her he was heading to the address. Joyce sent him a reminder to be careful and if at any point he has to bail out, to do so.

He starts his car and drives towards the suburban part of town. He has been here a few times for bachelorette parties, so he knows his way around. He looks at the piece of paper in order to get the street and number right and after driving for two more minutes, he reaches the house and he can already hear the music and some girl yelling. He looks at the window and he tries to figure out how many people are there.

A smirk spreads on his face when he sees the birthday girl. 

Oh, this was going to be one of those nights.

You giggled as you danced in the middle with your best friend, your other friends cheering you on. You had put some pink lights to make the space more fun, more enticing. 

It’s not every day that you turn 25, and what better way than to simply get drunk with all of your friends. It’s been so long since you had fun like this, and you can finally be free again thanks to your decision to break things off with your boyfriend after a year. The problem with him was that he was a prude, vanilla, and sadly that interfered with your feelings for him. It didn’t mean you didn’t love him, and it took a while for you to get over the breakup– even if you were the one that did it.

Attraction is very much needed in a relationship, and you had lost it completely for your ex.

He just didn’t want to try anything at all. You came up with ideas, positions and things you could both try and he didn’t find anything interesting. Not even some spanking. It became harder and harder to reach an orgasm with him, and the attraction slowly started fading away. Emotionally he was perfect, but he didn’t match that physically. It had angered you that he wasn’t even willing to try anything for you, so that also impulsed your decision to break things off.

The doorbell rang and you immediately stopped dancing with your best friend and you looked at her with a confused look on your face and then scanned the room. Everyone was here. You didn’t invite anyone else. You let go of her in order to go get the door but was stopped by her with a smile on her face.

“Don’t! Just, stay there, I’ll get it!” You were frowning at the situation but then you saw all your friends giggling with one another, Jeremiah smiling at you as he got a chair right in the middle of the room. What is going on?

“Don’t kill us…” He says to you and you are still staring at him as he looks over your shoulder and you see him giggle with a blush to his face, stepping back into his chair. Heavy boots could be heard as they walked into the living room and you slowly turned around and you really thought that a Greek god of some sort just entered your house. 

He had the brightest set of eyes you’ve ever seen, piercing even, blonde curls styled and pulled back into a half ponytail with some falling towards his shoulders. He was built, and tall, and you couldn’t help but almost salivate as you stared at his plump lips. Lips that slowly spread, showing off his bright teeth to you. 

“Is this the birthday girl?” The man asked and his voice just sent a shiver down your spine instantly. Your best friend snickered behind him and nodded, saying your name to him.

“This is our gift baby, from all of us.” She was smirking at you and then the room cheered. They… They got you a stripper. Oh dear god… You weren’t prepared for this, you’ve never experienced what a stripper could do, never went to a show but– You should have. If men like this work there then it is worth every penny and you were so grateful to your friends right now.

The man took a few steps towards you, his eyes locked with yours, and it might be the alcohol you’ve been drinking but everything simply grows hot as he raises a hand up and places it on your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him more properly.

“I’m Billy.” You were completely certain that you looked dazed, as if hypnotized by this man’s looks. You heard Jeremiah woo at him and Billy only chuckled as he leaned towards you. “One rule for you birthday girl. You don’t touch me unless I want you to, got that?”

You nod dumbly at that request, and it was going to be hard to keep your hands to yourself, but out of respect you knew you had to. Billy lets go of your chin, and he turns around to give a nod to your best friend. She bit her lip and headed over to her phone to change the music. He put a request for songs for tonight, and he had asked your preference of dance.

He wanted to know if you would like it rough, or exciting, or slow and enticing. When he gave your best friend his options, she instantly went for slow, yet rough at some parts because she said, and he quotes ‘You needed it.’. He didn’t press for more questions but Joyce did, just so she would know your mental situation and for Billy to know exactly what to do and what to not overdo. 

You needed to be shown what you have been missing the past year.

Billy sat you down on the chair your friends had placed in the middle of the room as they all were sitting around it, small cheers and whistles being heard as your eyes never left Billy’s. He didn’t expect to dance for someone like you tonight. You caught his eye the moment he saw you whipping your hips from side to side as he looked through the window of your home outside. 

There was this carnal need growing inside of him, but he had to focus on the job, not let it get to his head. One of the things he had to make sure of in these kinds of parties or small side jobs was to never, ever, get hard. It wasn’t impossible to do so really, since he was always the one grinding on the people, but if he does get hard it might give the wrong message, and people might feel entitled to touch him, thinking they can do it, just because he is a man with normal reactions.

‘Renegade’ by Aaryan Shah started playing on the speakers and your breathing hitched at the rain sound at the beginning of it. You took a shaky breath in as he started circling around you, his hand softly grazing all over your shoulders, and when the beat started, his hands pressed on your biceps, dragging them all the way down, slowly, and not putting pressure on his fingertips but it was enough to make your skin grow goosebumps from it.

“I’m gonna make you feel wanted…” You didn’t even notice he had gotten close to your ear from behind, his hot breath hitting your skin making you shiver and his low whisper sent a shock that reached your center. Your mind was blocking out everyone else, slowly, as if your friends weren’t cheering you on, or him for that matter. 

“Please…” You replied to him and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hear you through the music, but he did, and his eyes almost widened at your boldness. You really needed this. He took the opportunity while standing behind you to push his sneakers off by placing the tip of his foot at the back of each and pulling.

He kept circling you until he was standing in front of you again, a smirk on his face as he suddenly ripped his jacket open, taking it off in one swift motion and you were so focused on his face before that you did not notice that he was wearing a button up shirt that was half closed, showing off his chest and some of his abs. 

Your breathing stopped at the sight and he chuckled at your expression. He definitely knew he was attractive, never an ounce of self doubt about that, and that’s what made this job easy for him. But there was something in your eyes that was different from the other girls and women he danced for– Something that was making his body grow a little hotter at each flick of your eyes towards his body.

There was genuine and pure lust in them.

He knew there was desire for him with all those other clients, but you… There was something else, as if you were hungry, starving even. He motioned for you to give him your hand and you took a second to notice what he was saying, raising a shaking hand to him. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one as he made you grip the middle of his open shirt, right under his pecs. 

He gripped your hand tightly, and made you pull it down in one hard motion, surprising you, and all of his buttons flew away as his shirt flew completely open, revealing all of his abdomen to you. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight, the rhythm of the song blasting in your ears, making the moment much more seductive. 

You were expecting strippers to be rough, manhandling you around as you’ve seen in tik tok videos, or instagram, and even magic mike, and just grinding on you aggressively. You didn’t expect this man to be moving slowly, yet it was sending fire currents all over your body at each sudden movement he did.

Billy took his shirt off and smirked as he threw it towards your other friend, Jeremiah, who squealed in delight at it. You had forgotten about your friends, and your eyes blinked as you looked around and you saw all the clapping and cheering going around, only to be pulled back into that bubble of arousal as you felt strong hands grip your chin again, and make you look up into blue orbs that were staring back at you intensely.

“Your attention is only mine tonight. Keep it that way.” Billy smirked as you stared up at him, an amused look on your face. He never expected responses from his dominance, most of the time they just nod at him and let him proceed, but you… you wiped Billy’s smirk away as you smiled at him and actually retorted back to him.

“Yes Sir.”

That word shot right to his dick. He cursed at you in his mind, shaking the feeling of rising arousal he was feeling to keep going with his job. He pulled his hand away from you only for both of your hands to be grabbed by him, pulling you up from the chair, causing you to gasp as you stand on both of your trembling knees. 

He smirked at how you slightly wobbled and he made you press your hands against his chest and then guided you, very slowly, over his chest and down to his abdomen. He was expecting you to be looking at where your hands were going, but your eyes kept locked against his all the time. Your hands were on fire at every dent you passed by, at the heat of his skin, but you didn’t press your hands on him.

And for some reason, Billy was disliking that.

He licked his lips, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked down at his jeans and then back up at you. You followed his gaze and your eyes widened, looking up at him again wondering if you understood right. He guided your hands towards his happy trail, making you graze your fingertips on his V shape and he almost let out a groan at the feeling. Your eyes were now stuck at his form, feeling the soft hairs that went beneath the hem of his denims.

“Open them up.” There were cheers and whistles around at the request, but you couldn’t hear them, just the soft bass that played on the song. Your fingers swiftly unbuttoned his jeans and you took a deep breath in as you got hold of the zipper and started pulling it down. Billy could feel the tip of your thumb as you glided it down with the metal and he felt it. He felt how his bulge was slowly growing. 

You looked up at him when everything was undone and he tilted his head at you, as if telling you that you are missing something. He nodded once towards the floor and back at you, and you felt your heart beating into your ears as you slowly started getting on your knees in front of him. 

And Billy cursed inwardly once more. You look so fucking beautiful like this. 

He almost never took his pants off at a performance. But oh he wanted to right now. He chuckled as you kept yourself on the floor and he walked to your side and then behind you. He felt himself starting to lose control of his desire because you just looked too exquisite to him. It wasn’t that the other clients were not of his liking, but you… something was coming out of your body, almost like pheromones that were pulling him in.

He pressed a hand on your shoulder and he gave you a soft push, enough to make you lose some balance and get on all fours as your hands landed on the floor. Billy couldn’t contain the smirk inside of him because you were completely unaware of your friends around you. You weren’t paying any mind to them any longer and it was all thanks to him. Now he understands what your best friend meant by you needing it. 

Your heart thumped in your chest and your eyes widened when he pressed his hips against your ass, and you felt him. He was hard. It was something normal, wasn’t it? They grind on clients and it is normal for them to get hard. Billy on the other hand, couldn’t help himself as he pressed against you and that made him even harder than before, not caring any longer about the people in the room, just like you weren’t paying mind to them.

He pressed onto you even rougher, prompting you to finally lay down on the floor, hands on both sides of your head as it turned to look at him over your shoulder. Billy salivated at the hazy look in your eyes, pupils blown wide, and he chuckled at you while getting on top of your body, his face coming close to your ear, softly whispering to you.

“Stay still.” And that you did, feeling your thighs clench at his order, cheeks becoming flushed as you wondered what he was going to do. He smirked as he raised himself up on his hands as he hovered over your body and then he parted his legs even wider so he could have some leverage. His hips started swaying back and forth into a sensual motion, grazing over your bottom half every time he went down.

You gasped at the sensual movement, and you held in a groan as the wetness started to soak your underwear. This man had you in a curse at the moment, and you didn’t know if you wanted it to be cured. Were you that desperate that a stripper is making you feel this way? He is just doing his job which is just dancing, nothing more to it.

But fuck will it rise your expectations for other men now.

Billy’s eyebrow twitched as he looked down at you, and all he could think about was ripping that shirt off your body, to feel your skin under his palm. He stops grinding and his hand snakes to the front of your throat and he pulls you with him as he kneels back up. His chest presses against your back, a moan coming out of your throat.

You wanted to take your hand back, to be able to touch him, rub him, feel him. But your hands were kept in place, not wanting this to be over. If you did as you desired he will stop this and leave, and that’s the last thing you want. Billy couldn’t contain himself as he broke his own personal rule and pressed his bulge against your ass, and you heard him growl in his throat.

Your head was spinning and suddenly you felt his free hand grip yours, and your eyes widened when he guided you to where you wanted your hand to actually be. He made you stick your hand into his open pants and you could cup his hardness into your hand. His breath was in your ear and you were sure he was giving you permission now to do as you please, so in front of everyone, you moved your hand, slowly, up and down on his bulge. 

Billy had made up his mind at this point. He is going to break every single rule, every single warning sign thrown out the window. He was going to get his phone out of his bag, message Joyce, and Eddie and Steve that he will take a little bit longer. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers splayed all over your throat, massaging it gently, and his lips came close to your ear, his hot breath fanning onto it.

“Can I give you a present?” He felt you stiffen, and he smirked as your hand stopped rubbing on him due to shock, but then he groaned into your skin as you began to move your hand even harder on him, surprising him as you turned your head to look at him with a smirk on your face.

“A gift?” You dared to ask and he could only smile at you, his lips coming close to yours, hovering over them, and you were dying to move forward and press them against his. You wanted to taste this man, and the next words he said to you made your body tremble suddenly with an urgent need.

“No charge.”

That’s when he pushed you off him and your eyes seemed to come back to reality for a few seconds, the yelling and cheering from your friends sipping into your ears. Sounds you had blocked out completely all this while, dissociating from the world that was around you and Billy. You looked up towards your best friend who had a wide eyed look on her friend as she covered her mouth with her hand. 

Billy walked around you, a smirk on his face all the while, and he went to grab his bag that he left on the front door, winking at your best friend as he passed by, and then he turned around to face you again, tilting his head as if waiting for you to make the next move. 

“Turn the music all the way up.” Those were your simple instructions and your friends cheered on you as you walked towards the stripper you met just a few moments ago. Your best friend gave you a wink and a motion for you to not lock the door. Your friends protected you just in case… because Billy is still a stranger. No matter what the job is, he still is one and you don’t know him.

What you do know, is the size of his dick. And you definitely need it inside of you.

You walk towards him to get hold of his free hand, his jeans still unbuttoned and open, the bulge just trying to break free from them. You gave him one look as if asking one last time if it was okay and he gave you a wink with a teeth showing grin. You turned the both of you and headed upstairs as the music started to increase in volume. You didn’t really care if your friends heard you, not when you deserved this. 

Billy took the opportunity that you had your back towards him to take his phone out of the side pocket of the bag as it hung on his shoulder. He texted his friends and then Joyce. His boss knows what it means when they say it’s taking a little longer, no need to clarify. She always sends a be careful and to keep the GPS on. Eddie is the one to reply to him and he almost lets out a snort at the message.

‘Wrap it.’

Billy puts the phone back in the bag, and then grabs onto the small metallic package he has there, tucking it into his back pocket, as you walk down the hallway of your home. Billy was amazed by your age and the fact that you own a home. None of his business on how you got it, but it was still intriguing. The music, even if loud, was becoming distant, even if a bit, and you were happy your room wasn’t above the living room. 

You opened the door to your bedroom, and the nerves finally kicked in. All the confidence you had earlier on to make a move were now squashed as you turned around to see Billy closing the door behind him, looking down at you as his bag dropped to the floor. Your breathing stammering slightly, not knowing how to move on from here. It’s been so long since you’ve been with a man other than your ex, so you didn’t know how to start this off like you used to.

But Billy knew what you needed, from the moment he saw you, the moment your best friend said your preference. He knew, and he was glad you needed something like that because he loves it that way. 

His hand shot up suddenly, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you both around so that he could slam you against the closed door. You gasped at how he manhandled you so effortlessly and just took you completely by surprise. He towered over you, gazing down at your eyes and you could feel your knees trembling at how intense his eyes were. His hand raised up to put it under your chin and hold your eyes to his own.

“You need it badly, don’t you? You need a real man–” He pressed his hips against yours and you could feel his bulge against your lower belly, making you whimper against your throat. “To treat you like you deserve.”

You felt yourself clench at nothing in his voice. He had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes were looking down at you, as if waiting for something. This man knows you want him, but you also know that this man wants you just the same, and that is boosting your ego and your confidence. You never imagined a guy like him to look twice your way… but here he was. A smile spread on your lips as you answered back to him.

“Yes sir~”

At your purr Billy’s lips instantly slammed on yours, a moan escaping your mouth and into his as he did so. His hands moved towards your wrists and he grabbed onto them, pulling them up above your head and using one hand to hold them together and staying there. You were surprised at the sudden movement, a whine coming out of your mouth, while his lips were pulled into a grin in between the kiss. 

His lips moved against yours, roughly, seeking for more as his body fully pressed against yours, chest against chest, and his other free hand went towards your neck, pressing your head against the door as well. You felt yourself becoming wetter by the second, and you moaned in surprise as his thigh came in between your legs, pressing harshly against your center, the seam of your jeans pressing just right against your clit.

He chuckled into the kiss and pulled away, barely, so he could look at your face. Your eyes turned half lidded and wanton moans escaped your lips every time he pressed his knee even harder on you. He took his tongue out and ran it through your bottom lip, gently. You tasted divine, but he wasn’t here to be gentle tonight. He knew you didn’t want him to be gentle either.

Your hips started moving against his thigh, and he looked down at your movements as you rode him. He felt his cock twitch in his underwear, and he looked back up to your face and he took his hand away from your neck. He was surprised to hear you whine at the loss of his grip, but he then started sliding his hand down, reaching the button of your pants, making your eyes snap wide to look at him.

“Let me show you what you’ve been missing, sweets.” The grip on your wrists tightened as he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled your zipper down. You couldn’t hear the music or anything but your beating heart. It was just a constant pumping of blood in your ear. You felt his fingertips slide into the elastic of your panties, and you shivered at the tickling sensation he was leaving behind each time he inched closer to your cunt.

“Please, please Billy…” You begged, and who was Billy to deny you when you asked so nicely? He smiled down at you as his fingers found the bundle of nerves that made a moan come out of your lips without shame. He gave it a few circling motions and your hips were trying to grind against him.

His face leaned down towards your neck, inhaling deeply to take in your scent, your perfume. You whimpered when you felt his hand moving lower and his lips closing onto the skin of your neck, leaving kisses over it. You gasped when he suddenly ran his fingers through your drenched folds, making your skin flush completely, a chuckle escaping his lips and onto your neck.

“Look how wet you already are, baby.” Your arms were starting to hurt from being pinned for this long above your head, but that pain was thrown out of the window when you felt a finger of his running over and over your folds in order to wet it before entering you. You gasped as you threw your head back, leaving Billy more access to your neck.

He was becoming drunk of how wet you were for him as he pumped his finger in and out of you. Damn, he really wanted to taste you now, but he had to move quickly. He couldn’t spend the night here, nor take his sweet time with you. At least… not today.

“Billy– Billy, fuck–” You were moaning his name, and he couldn’t help himself but bite onto your neck as he inserted a second finger in you, his pace quickening. You couldn’t believe how good you could feel with just fingers. He was curling them in the right position, hitting your spongy spot over and over, rubbing his fingertips against it. 

He let go of your neck in order to kiss you again so he could swallow your moans into his throat. He took the opportunity of your mouth being open and his mouth instantly slipped in, clashing against yours. You tasted divine. If you tasted like this in your mouth, his resolve of not eating you out was wavering. 

His tongue danced with yours, his fingers going deep inside you, curled as he pressed the belly of his palm against your clit and moved his hand rapidly back and forth, making the movements of your tongue falter as loud moans went from your throat to his. He pulled away in order to hear you and your loud whimpers were music to his ears.

“Fuck, look at you…” He was mesmerized by you, your head thrown back onto the door as his fingers kept moving. He then stopped all together, making you whine at the loss of friction. You were feeling so good and he decided to stop now? His hand finally lets go of your wrists and you sigh in relief as you pull them down to your sides once again. His fingers leave you, and he pulls them out of your underwear to look at them. 

You are looking at him as he smirks at you, taking his fingers into his mouth, his eyes closing as he tastes you on his tongue. Fuck, you were sweeter down there. He should have eaten you out instead of fingering you. He moaned into his fingers and you clenched onto nothing at the sound. 

When his fingers left his mouth, he opened his eyes to find yours. His hands then grabbed the hem of your pants and he crouched in order to pull them down along with your now soaked underwear. You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment. You stepped out of them and he stood up as he scanned you again.

“W–What?”

“Take your shirt off.” You gulped at how demanding he sounded, but you complied in just a second. You pulled your shirt over your head and threw it across the room. He raised a finger towards the strap of your red lace bra, pulling it to only let it go so it would snap against your skin, making you gasp. “Cute, but it needs to go too.”

You lick your lips and you take your hands behind you to unclasp your bra. His eyes were digging holes onto every part of your body from how intense he was looking at you. You took the bra off and threw it somewhere, and you really didn’t care if it got lost. He stood there, just taking your naked body in. His dick twitched again and he knew this was his limit.

You saw him reach behind him and then put something in his mouth. Your eyes widened when you saw the aluminum foil square that is in between his teeth. He smirked at you as he pulled his pants and boxers down. He didn’t step out of them just yet, and one of his hands grabbed onto the foil, and with his teeth he ripped it open, taking the rubber out. 

Your eyes went down towards his dick and, holy shit. He was huge. Your sense of touch was spot on before. His bulge felt… bulky, and now you can confirm it was because he was big. He followed your gaze and he chuckled, making your eyes look back up at him again. He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he handed the rubber to you.

Your breathing was heavy as you grabbed onto it, and you pressed onto the tip to then roll it down onto his cock. He threw his head back in a circle at the feel of your hands around him. The primal part of him switched on, and he was going to show you what he could do, what the others didn’t dare to do to you.

Your hands immediately flew away as you saw him crouch again, his hands cupping right under your ass and prompting you to jump. His hands cupped your ass tightly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. He smirked at you as he pressed you harder against the wall so he could take one hand away from your ass so he could line himself up to you.

You threw your head back, a loud moan escaping you as you start feeling the stretch of him entering you. His hand went back to cupping your ass, holding you up and onto the wall. He cursed under his breath as he felt how tight you were. He kept moving forward into you, gasps escaping your lips that caused him to grin at you.

“Fu-Fuck–” You were already cock drunk, and he hadn’t bottomed out yet. You heard him call out your name to you and you looked down to see him smirking at you, making you frown slightly only for him to slam himself inside of you in one motion, knocking the air out of your lungs in a choke. 

“You’re so fucking tight, you’re sucking me in.” He groaned out as he felt you clenching around him, adjusting to him as you writhed on his hold. He then moved his hips back and then back in, first in a slow movement as he started building up in tempo, each minute that passed. 

Moans soon filled the room, the slamming of your body against the door as he thrusted in and out of you as you started falling into a state of euphoria. You never felt like this before. You had your share of experiences, but it was never like this, and he just stuck his dick in. He didn’t do anything special, but the foreplay and the edging was enough to make you lose your head the instant he put the tip in.

Your hands were digging onto his shoulders as you chanted his name like a mantra, bodies becoming sweaty as he started increasing his pace, your moans becoming louder and some whimper were thrown into the mix as well. His pelvis was hitting against your clit thanks to the position as well, the burning in your belly starting to form. 

“It feels so good, it feels so fucking good–!” You were starting to moan out words, things you never did before. You never liked dirty talking and that was because it had never been done to you. He chuckled and you felt him grip onto your ass cheeks even tighter and he pulled you both off the door so he could stand up straight, his back a little bit bent backwards.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he used his strength to raise you up and then make you fall down on his dick again. You moaned loudly at that, the new position letting him hit your G-spot perfectly. His hands guided you up and down so you would bounce on his cock, your arms now wrapped completely around his shoulders. 

You nodded dumbly as you felt your eyes becoming teary from how deep he was hitting you and it never stopped, in and out, in and out. Your mouth fell open with silent moans, with whimpers, whines, groans, huffs of air. Billy was trying to hold them in, but you felt exquisite on his dick, tight, and clenching every so often, so many grunts escaped into the air from his throat.

“Shit– Oh god–” Your belly was burning, the coil turning, tightening, and he could feel it, so he braced himself on his feet in order to slam you even harder down on his dick in a slow pace. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at the ceiling, your vision starting to go white as the burning sensation came closer and closer, your walls clenching around him repeatedly.

“Come on baby, cum on my dick, come on… Let me feel you.” The dirty talking did it for you. The elastic band snapped instantly, and you let out a loud cry of his name as your walls clenched tightly around him and he growled as he tried to move but you were sucking him in and not letting go. Your legs trembled around him as your nails started to dig on his back. 

He rode your high until he felt you unclench, the both of you breathing heavily as he sits inside of you. He could feel your body starting to slump on him, making it harder to keep you up. He licked his lips and backed up towards your bed, turning around to throw you into it. It took you by surprise, snapping you back to reality, looking up at him through the tears of your eyes.

“You didn’t–?” You asked innocently and Billy only smirked through his panting. 

“On all fours.” He ordered and you took a deep breath in to hide the gasp as you complied, your ass facing him as your knees and hands were on the mattress of the bed, your calves and feet hanging off the edge of the bed. 

“Like this?” You ask as you wiggle your ass for him, teasingly, and Billy was surprised you still had this spark in you. Maybe it was a spark that never came out before because the chance had never presented itself for you.

“Put your fucking ass up.” You gasped at how rough he sounded, but a small smirk appeared on your face as you slowly laid your upper body down on the bed, your back arching forward so you could stick your ass out even more for him. 

“Like this~?” You purr this time and you hear a hum of approval, only to then feel a hand slamming against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to choke out a moan in surprise. 

“What a view.” He was salivating as he looked at the roundness of your cheeks, wanting to sink his teeth on your flesh. You wiggled your ass at him again and he chuckled in desire as he raised his hand up to slap your other ass cheek, making you yelp and clench onto thin air, a smile on your face that was on the mattress. “Forward.”

You complied and moved your body a little more into the middle of the bed so he could kneel in between your legs. He grabbed onto his dick and rubbed the tip on your clit, slapping it a few times which caused you to whimper. He pressed the tip in through your fold and didn’t wait for a second to grab your hips and slam himself back into you.

You moaned against the bed as his pace turned brutal, piercing even. He didn’t do the slow pace at first like before, but you didn’t mind the roughness, you actually loved it. This is what you always needed, what you always wanted, and it was finally being given to you. 

Billy threw his head back as his eyes closed at how much you were clenching around him still thanks to the overstimulation. He growled when he looked down at the bouncing of your ass against his hips, seeing himself going in and out of you. He raised his hand up and smacked your ass again, seeing it jiggle as he kept thrusting in and out of you.

You choked out a moan and he could see the smile on your face as he repeated the action, two and three more times. He smirked as he pulled himself forward, and his hand came to the side of your head, and he pressed you against the mattress even more, making you instinctively raise your ass up even more as your knees slid down a little bit. 

His thrusts became deep and the sound of skin slapping bounced from wall to wall. Your moans were muffled against the mattress, and your smile was still on your lips as his hand pressed even harder on the side of your head. You were immediately feeling the burning sensation in your belly and you wanted him to touch you, you needed it again.

“Billy, Billy, I need to cum again, please–” SMACK. 

“You’re going to cum with my cock only, so fucking take what I give you.” You moaned at his words, your bodies going back and forth from how deep he was moving in you. 

“Yes Sir, yes Sir!” His dick twitched inside of you at your chants, and he groaned loudly mixed with a moan as he felt his balls clench with the need to cum. He needed to cum while you clenched around him, and he knew you were close thanks to your walls fluttering every so often as he kept thrusting into you, his hand still pressing onto your head.

The thrill of it, the roughness and the sound of his groans from how good he was feeling with you made your belly explode again, even harder than before. You yelled onto the mattress as your vision turned white, your mind becoming mush as you clenched tightly around him as if it were a life source.

“Fuck–” He gave more thrusts, fast and deep ones until the last two faltered slightly and then a moan escaped his lips as he spilled into the condom. He trembled as ropes of cum left him, one after the other. He was breathing heavily as he tried to come back to earth. He looked down at you and he let go of your head to reveal you huffing for air against the mattress. “You with me?”

You gave him one nod and he winced when he pulled out of you, slowly, and you whined at the emptiness of it. He pulled the condom off and he was surprised by how much he had spilled inside of it. It’s been a while since he came this hard. His eyes turned to your figure and a smirk appeared on his face. He called out your name and that made you snap back into reality, turning around on the bed to lay down on your back.

“Yeah…?” It was a soft moan, your breath still trying to settle into a normal rhythm again. 

Billy came back home only to find Eddie still up and talking on the phone with his girl. 

“It’s 1 AM. What are you two doing up?” Billy groans as he walks towards the kitchen, throwing the duffel bag onto the floor. He was wearing the extra clothes he took in there, and Eddie examined him, up and down. 

“Well… was it a good show?” Billy opened the fridge and took a water bottle out and took a long sip out of it. He looked at Eddie a smirk forming on his face once more. 

“I may have found a student myself.” 

A/N: Im getting to write my pending requests, so be patient with me. I hope you all enjoyed this smutty thing, and I love billy so sue me.

I love you ash.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills

Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

[amymbona]

I love you so much. Seriously, you are so precious.

Can we address the fact that art can be so mean? Like, that sauna scene is so extra and wild. The meanest boy ever with literally no reason.  So I was thinking about a reader, being actually a good girl, kind and shy and nice and pretty and everybody just loves her and art is going bananas over it because he can't stand her, and he's so mean and manipulative and kinda crazy kinda want her to "show her true colors 'cause he's not buying the good girl act" kinda wants her to be his, but after he MAKES HER his. Molding that pretty thing to behave how he wants.  sorry if you can't match my freak it's fine it's cool I won't cry :( 

User I love you so so so much *kisses your forehead* 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 I'll definitely match your 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨. That's what I'm here for! Perhaps I could make this a little series. 🤭🤭

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Art is so crazy for you. He adores the thin ribbons at the end of the braids you usually wear, tied into two neat bows. He has the collection of your plaid miniskirts etched into his mind, knowing exactly what kind of low cut tops you combine with them. Sometimes, you're dressed in so little clothing - one of your short skirts and a stupidly thin blouse that shows more than it hided - that he questions whether you're still comfortable, and considers offering you a hoodie of his.

You're a kind soul too, not hesitating to lend people your pens if their runs out of ink and stops writing, generously offering whatever the person next to you might need. Somehow, you seem to carry whatever could be missing. You're so soft spoken, encouraging people and comforting them if their exam doesn't go well, always laying your palm on a person's shoulder to rub it and bring them a sense of comfort. And people adore you for that, their faces shine when they spot you in the corridor and you smile at them. You are the Stanford's sweetheart.

And sometimes, Art can't help himself but stare at you in the class, chewing onto the end of his pen, wondering whether that smile is permanently etched onto your face. Because even now, when you're simply sitting and listening to the lecture, there is such an aura of grace and easiness glowing around you, as if you were made to convince the whole class that they have nothing to worry about and everything is going to be okay. You're simply too soft for your age, in his eyes, too benign for the people you hang out with a too gracious in general. All, as if you were hoping to get something in return, even though you never ask for it.

Art is tempted to find a crack in your shell, to discover who you really are, because he's definitely not buying the good girl act. So he gets to work. Being Art Donaldson, he approaches the whole situation cautiously, surprising himself with his own patience. However, he's aware that if he really wants to get as close to you as possible, it's gonna take some time. Even despite your friendliness, you surely can't be naive enough to let him in with a simple smile.

He is a mastermind, of sorts, accidentally forgetting his pens or erasers and asking to borrow one from you. You respond with a usual smile and a soft "Of course," and let your fingers graze his palm when you hand him one. He's so tempted to keep it by the end of the lecture, as if to keep a part of you with himself. But he can't do that yet.

Slowly, Art figures out most of your schedule, showing up in the cafeteria or the campus' park where you might currently be. Some hi's and hello's are exchanged between the two of you, accompanied by a cute smile on your face. The more you smile at Art, actually, the more he is tempted to wipe that expression off of your face. He wants to see you cry, to see you scream and whine and beg and yell, to finally see the walls you've built up around yourself fall and uncover your true self.

Soon, without actually planning it, Art becomes obsessed with you. But not with the gentleness or your actions, nor the generosity of your innocent soul. Definitely not with your kind smile and big eyes. On the contrary, he wants to see them fill with tears, he wants them to be red and glossy while they look at him. He wants you to either encourage him to keep hurting you or beg him to stop, squirm and whine and protest, that you can't take all the pain he's about to give you. As long as you are below him, helpless and vulnerable, he will be content with his doings.

[meadowfics]

delicious meal

kang sae-byeok x smallbusinessowner!reader

waiter!kang dae-ho as well ;)

another part in my "small business owner" series for sae-byeok

warnings: one spicy pg-13 moment but that's it.

this is a rare moment of nerves for sae-byeok.

she keeps adjusting her jacket sleeves, shifting in her seat slightly as she takes in the lavish decor of the restaurant.

the dim lighting, the crystal chandeliers, the waitstaff in neatly pressed uniforms..it all feels foreign to her.

it is foreign to her.

you notice the way her fingers twitch on the edge of the table, and without a word, you slide your hand over hers, squeezing lightly.

"are you nervous?"

you tease softly, your voice laced with warmth.

sae-byeok scoffs, rolling her eyes, but the slight pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

"no,"

she lies.

"why would i be nervous? i'm just… not used to places like this."

sae's eyes flicker around the restaurant, catching glimpses of other diners in elegant outfits, sipping wine with an ease she doesn’t feel.

before you can respond, your waiter approaches, placing utensils neatly in front of both of you.

he’s young, maybe around your age, with neatly styled dark hair and a welcoming smile.

"hello, my name is kang dae-ho, but please just call me dae,"

he says smoothly.

"i'll be taking care of you guys tonight. can i get you started with any drinks?"

you glance at sae-byeok, giving her the opportunity to order first, but she just nods toward you.

"good evening, dae. i’ll have a lemonade,"

you say, smiling.

"just water for me,"

sae-byeok adds quickly, her voice quieter than usual.

dae nods, scribbling on his notepad.

"great choice. i’ll be right back with those."

as soon as he walks away, you lean in slightly.

"you could’ve gotten something else, you know. you don’t have to just get water."

sae-byeok shrugs, adjusting her leather jacket sleeve again.

"it’s fine. you know i don’t really care about drinks like that."

dae-ho returns quickly, setting down your lemonade and her water.

"ready to order?"

"yes. tonight I'll just have the bibimbap,"

you say, and without missing a beat, sae-byeok says,

"same."

dae-ho grins.

"twins, huh?"

he jokes, but sae-byeok just snorts.

when he walks away, you smirk.

"so, a copycat, huh?"

sae-byeok giggles softly, shaking her head.

"excuse me? i put you onto bibimbap. remember?"

"you did,"

you admit,

"but you didn't have to copy my order."

you tease.

in fact, you love how similar you and sae are.

"why change what works?"

she shrugs, leaning back in her chair, looking a little more relaxed now.

you love moments like this..

moments when her guard is down, when she’s just sae-byeok, not the girl who’s always had to fight for everything.

you take a sip of your lemonade, watching her as she absentmindedly runs a finger along the rim of her glass.

after a beat, you ask,

"so… any updates on your mom?"

sae-byeok glances up, hesitating for only a second before nodding.

"yeah. the broker found her. she’s going to cross the chinese border soon."

you sit up a little, taking in the weight of her words.

"really? that’s good, right?"

"it is,"

she says, though there’s something in her tone that tells you she’s trying not to get her hopes up too much.

"once she gets closer to the thailand border, i’ll figure out a way to meet her and bring her over here."

you nod slowly, letting her lead the conversation.

"that’s huge, sae. i know how much this means to you."

she exhales, staring at her water for a moment before looking back at you.

"it’s been six months, you know."

"since…?"

you tilt your head, teasing.

"since we got together,"

she mutters, rolling her eyes.

you grin.

"you keeping track now?"

"shut up,"

she mumbles, but there’s no real bite behind it.

you reach for her hand again, this time letting your thumb trace over her knuckles.

"i’m really happy with you," you say simply.

she looks down at your hands, quiet for a moment before murmuring,

"i know. I am too with you."

you don’t push for anything more...you never do.

you’ve already told her you love her, and though she hasn’t said it back, you feel it in the way she looks at you.

in the way she saved up for this dinner, in the way she always makes sure you get home safe after a long shift.

the fact that she is taking you to this fancy place, and paying for it, shows that sae is someone who would rather tell you her love through her actions.

sae-byeok pulls her hand away, only to reach for her water and take a sip before clearing her throat.

"i still feel bad, you know. about… taking your money that day."

you shake your head immediately.

"you don’t have to. you were trying to help cheol. if anything, i was going to spend that money on you anyway."

you smirk, aware of your gift-giving love language.

sae-byeok gives you a flat look.

"that’s not how that works."

"it is for me,"

you argue lightly.

"you know i love buying you things."

sae-byeok sighs but can’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips.

"yeah, i know."

you smile back, squeezing her hand again before letting go when you see dae-ho approaching with your food.

he approaches your table.. carefully placing the bowls of bibimbap in front of you and sae-byeok.

the aroma immediately fills the space between you, making your stomach grumble slightly.

"everything look good?"

dae-ho asks, glancing between the two of you with an easy smile.

"yeah, it looks great,"

you say, already reaching for your chopsticks.

"it’s good,"

sae-byeok adds, inspecting her dish before nodding in approval.

dae-ho grins at the both of you before stepping back.

"perfect. enjoy your meal."

with that, he walks off to check on another table.

just as you’re about to dig in, sae-byeok suddenly lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly.

you blink, confused.

"what’s so funny?"

she smirks, leaning in just a little.

"i think someone has a crush on you."

you furrow your brows, tilting your head.

"what?"

sae-byeok subtly nods her head toward dae-ho, who is now assisting another table.

the korean's eyes gleam with mischief, watching for your reaction.

you roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head.

"sae, he's just doing his job."

"he better be,"

she replies with a smirk, her tone low and possessive, which sends a wave of warmth to your cheeks.

oh, sae-byeok can be so possessive in the best way.

"sae-byeok,"

you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you smirk at her.

"you know i am only yours."

sae's expression shifts slightly, something deeper, something smug yet sincere showing in her dark eyes.

"yeah?"

she murmurs, the tension in her voice sending a small shiver down your spine.

"yeah,"

you confirm, rubbing her calf with your foot under the table.

sae-byeok smirks while taking a bite of her food, clearly pleased, and it encourages you to finally start eating as well.

the conversation flows effortlessly after that.

sae-byeok is attentive, constantly checking to make sure you think the food is perfect, even though she knows you’d never complain.

all she wants is for this night to go smoothly, for it to be something you remember.

when dae-ho comes back, you’re about to shake your head and refuse dessert, but sae-byeok insists, her voice firm yet gentle.

"we're getting bingsu."

you give her a look, amused.

"oh, we are?"

"yes,"

she says simply.

dae-ho watches as you gently grab sae-byeok’s hand across the table, rubbing her knuckles in a way that speaks volumes.

you don’t even notice his expression shift slightly as realization settles in

he now understands that you and sae-byeok are together.

he doesn’t mind, not at all. he never had a crush on you...he was just doing his job.

however he’s accepting in a society who could look at your relationship as taboo.

he offers a small, genuine smile before nodding.

"i’ll be right back with that,"

dae-ho says before walking away.

when he returns, he sets down one dish with two spoons, the shaved ice dessert looking absolutely perfect.

"enjoy,"

dae-ho says with a polite nod.

"thanks,"

sae-byeok replies, grabbing her spoon first.

you both try the bingsu, the cold, sweet flavor hitting your tongue in the best way possible.

you widen your eyes, looking at sae-byeok, who already has a similar reaction.

"oh my god,"

you say.

"this is the best bingsu i’ve ever had."

sae-byeok nods, already taking another bite.

"yeah. this was a good choice."

after finishing, sae-byeok reaches for the check before you can even think about grabbing it.

"wait, are you sure?"

you ask, watching her carefully.

"yes,"

she insists, her voice leaving no room for argument.

the bill is a little high for her standards, but she saved for this.

she planned for this.

she wants to do this for you.

after she pays, the two of you step outside into the cool night air.

the breeze feels nice against your skin, and as you walk, sae-byeok stays close beside you.

she glances at you, taking in the sight of your dark olive green sweater, your brown maxi-length skirt.

oh, she is so in love with you.

before you can take another step, she gently grabs your waist, pulling you into a soft embrace.

you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders, inhaling the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume.

she looks into your eyes, and for once, there is no hesitation.

"do you know how much i love you?"

sae-byeok asks, her voice quiet but firm, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

your lips curl into a small smile before you tease,

"how much do you love me?"

sae-byeok doesn’t answer with words.

instead, she leans in, pressing her lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

when she finally pulls away, she breathes,

"i love you so much, y/n."

your heart swells at the words you've waited to hear, but deep down, you've known it all along.

more of the small business owner series coming soon

full masterlist here

[augustghosts]

Stewy Hosseini x female reader

A classic tale of fucking your ex at your friends wedding. We’ve all been there, I think.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ pls, minors will be blocked! Not proofread which is defo a warning, lmk if you spot anything ive missed. Smut. Oral f!recieving and protected pinv. Alcohol and drugs are mentioned slightly.

Little authors note sorry: Hey everyone i am actually alive lol. 5 months later i return writing for someone new… not out of character for me. I watched succession for the first time recently (late asf to the party i know) and i read some amazing stewy fics so i thought i’d add my piece because i’m obsessed with him. Sorry to all my tommy miller babes on here, i swear i tried writing for him again but my inspiration for tommy fics seems to have gotten lost. I really struggled when i tried finishing my half way done tommy series lol. But when i started writing this one it just floooowed and i finished it in like a few hours. Maybe my tommy love will come back someday but for now…. This. Hope someone out there enjoys lol <3

You’ve felt eyes on you all night. Everywhere you go you end up meeting his eyes across the room. Eveytime you look over at him, he’s already looking. He should be the one that's embarrassed, you’ve caught him looking at you multiple times, but you’re always the one who ends up looking away first and feeling your skin heat with the embarrassment of being caught. While he shamelessly stares at you over the rim of his glass, that awful fucking smirk gracing his lips and he watches you squirm. Honestly, it’s kinda creepy. And you almost hope he approaches you so you can tell him that.

Towards the end of the night he starts to close in, starts inching closer to you. He starts making conversation with the people around you, people at the bar next to you, and eventually your friends. Asking them how they are, how it’s been such a long time. Then, he finally gets to you. He takes his time looking you over before he speaks and you’re determined not to be the first one to talk, so you let him stare. Both of you standing in silence for a few seconds before he finally speaks.

“You look great.”

”Thanks.” Keeping it simple seems safe. You want to tell him he looks good too because fuck, he does. He always does. He notices your eyes drifting over his suit and tie and he chuckles.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Uhm,” He trails off - pretends to think. “I’m at a fucking wedding, and i’m enjoying myself.”

”Yeah?” You ask, he nods in agreement. The way his eyebrows raise tells you he’s still being sarcastic, still mocking you. “Watching my every move all night is how you enjoy yourself?”

“Actually, yes.” He confirms. “Watching you squirm all night was pretty fun.”

”I wasn’t.” You attempt to defend yourself, downing your drink. “I was just-“

“I’ll get you another.” He cuts you off, snatching your glass out of your hand - not even bothering to ask. You almost try to protest, but you don’t see the point. You know him too well, you know how stubborn he is, once he gets an idea it’s hard for him to let it go. If the idea he’s got tonight is paying for your drinks, then so be it - who were you to complain. You sit down on the stool next to you, watching as Stewy makes the bartender laugh as he orders your drinks. You're kind of pissed that you still can’t figure him out sometimes, you know him better than most people - maybe better than anyone, but he still confuses you. It has been a while since you last saw him, but you conclude that he hasn’t changed much.

When he comes back with your drinks he puts yours down in front of you and asks: “Still your favorite?”

You nod, kind of pissed that he got it right. You try to convince yourself that he didn’t actually remember that small detail. That he’s just been watching you order them all night during your staring competition.

“So, how’s your family?” You ask, cringing at how lame you sound. You just don’t want to let him start a conversation you don’t want to have.

He smiles, because he knows what you're doing. “They’re fine. I still don’t see them much, but they’re good.”

”You’re still too busy to see your family?” You joke.

“Mhm,” His smile almost looks genuine as you joke with each other. “I’m always busy.”

“Busy stealing people's money?”

He laughs then, a genuine laugh that makes you laugh as well. God, you don’t want to admit that you missed him. But everyone else just seems so boring after him, you’ve never found the same thing you’d had with him with anyone else.

“You never really understood business did you?” He laughs.

“I understand perfectly.”

“Sure,” He agrees. “I explained it to you enough times.”

“Yeah, and bored me to death.”

”Is that why you broke up with me?”

His question completely catches you off guard and you almost choke on your drink. You almost want to ask him if he purposefully said that while you were taking a sip, but you’re too busy trying to supress your coughing.

“Jesus, it was just a question.” Stewy laughs at you again, his warm hand coming to rest on your back as he watches you almost choke.

“Fuck you.” You say pointedly, after getting yourself back under control. ”You know why we broke up. Also, I broke up with you?”

”You did.”

“Stewy, it was amicable.”

“Was it?” His face goes serious again and you instantly miss the sound of his laugh. You just sigh, taking another sip of your drink. This was exactly the conversation you didn’t want to have.

“I thought you said you were enjoying yourself,” You say after a few moments of silence. “Don’t ruin it now.”

”I lied.” He says. “I always hated those two, I can't believe they actually got married.”

”Match made in hell.” You agree, both of you laugh softly again.

“You know I also lied earlier when I said you looked great.” He says, surprising you. You brace yourself for whatever joke he’s going to make about you, you shouldn't have pissed him off, he can get mean when he’s pissed off. It’s not his fault, it’s just his defense mechanism - but nevertheless you brace yourself for his comment - and he surprises you again by saying: “You look fucking incredible.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You opt for another sip of your drink instead and he watches you in amusement.

“I only came because I hoped you would be here,” He continued. You still can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, that damned smirk on his face makes you think he’s making fun of you, but those big brown eyes look so sincere.

“Stewy, stop.” You sigh.

“Come on, baby.” He murmurs, he leans forward in his chair and places his hand on your knee. The nickname makes you tense up. Makes a familiar heat spread through you. “Let me get you another drink and take you up to my room.”

Fuck. He’s fucking good at this, and he knows it. He knows exactly how to get you. You’re trying to think, but the alcohol and the way his thumb is rubbing your knee is clouding your mind. He waits patiently, watching as you look down at his hand and back up to his face. Your eyes stop at his lips before meeting his gaze.

“Alright,” You say, you swear you can actually see his eyes light up. “Go get me another drink and show me your room. Then I'll decide.”

“You got it.” He grins and practically jumps out of his seat. When he returns he holds out his hand to help you off your stool, the heels you decided to wear and the drinks weren’t a good match. He hands you your drink, although you don’t really want it now. His hand finds its place on the small of your back and a fire lights up somewhere inside of you. His touch feels so familiar - comforting. He leads you out of the bar and to the elevators. Punching in the right number before the doors close, leaving you both alone in the small space. It suddenly feels too quiet.

You want to touch him, but once again you don’t want to be the one to make the first move. You don't want him to know how desperate you are for him, although you think he already knows. He’s watching you in silence, his eyes dark and wanting. A look you’ve seen a million times before - a look that makes you excited. The elevator ride is short, Stewy isn’t the type to kiss you in an elevator, and you know that, so you’re not disappointed when the doors open and he hasn’t touched you or said a word.

He gestures for you to leave first, putting his hand on the door so they don’t close on you, or him. Some people would find this strange, the silence, but it’s a game you’ve both played with each other before. A game you both enjoy. He guides you to his room with a hand on your back, just like before. When he unlocks the door and opens it for you, you suppress a gasp. As usual, Stewy needs to have the best of the best. The bride and groom's room probably isn’t even this nice. They probably couldn’t afford it - Stewy can.

“Well?” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Hm?”

”What do you think? You said you would decide when you saw the room. Is it good enough for you?”

”Uhm,” You pretend to think as you set your drink down on the dresser, turning around to dramatically inspect the room. It earns a playful eye roll from Stewy. He knows what impresses you and he knows he already has you. He already had you down at the bar.

“I think it’s okay.” You conclude, turning to face him. He hums in sarcastic agreement, looking you up and down. He’s playing the game again, who is going to end it first. Who is going to lose. You don’t like losing, and neither does he. But honestly, haven’t you already lost? He has you in his room for christ sake. He has you standing in front of him, already dripping and all he’s done is touch your leg a little and look at you the right way. So you put aside your pride and step towards him, you bring your hands up to his cheeks and roughly bring his face down to your, finally connecting your lips.

His hands immediately find their home at your hips, pulling you tightly against him. The kiss immediately turns from an innocent kiss to a hungry and passionate one, his tongue dominating your mouth. You both know each other's bodies so well, there's no need for taking it slow or asking questions.

“Fuck, Stewy.” You sigh as he backs you towards the bed, gently setting you down and climbing over you. Kissing every inch of your skin.

“God, I missed that.” He groans, marveling over the way you sigh his name. “I missed you, baby. I can admit it. I want you so badly.”

You moan softly at his words, at the way his lips feel on your neck - at how right this feels. You had missed him too. He catches you off guard when he pulls away to ask, ”Have you been fucking other people?”

“Sorry?” You giggle, “Why are you asking me that now?”

”Have you?” He presses.

“I ju- maybe.” You stutter, already missing his lips.

”Maybe?”

”I know you’ve been fucking as well.” You accuse, suddenly defensive. You push yourself up onto your elbows, despite still being trapped underneath him.

“Yeah, I have.” He says coolly.

“So?” You ask, irritated. Why was he doing this?

“So, none of them were as good as you.” His words earn an eye roll from you. “Nothing can compare to this pussy.” He adds, his hand sliding down to roughly grip your thigh and bring it over his waist. Oh, shit. His half hard cock is pressing perfectly against your pussy in this new position, the material of your dress and his suit pants keeping you apart. “And, i bet none of those guys fucked you the way i do.” One of his hands comes up to grip your chin, his other keeping him above you. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he asks, “Did they?”

“No.” You practically squeak. “None of them were like you. No one is like you, Stewy.”

You’re not even lying, after having sex with Stewy for so long nothing compared. You had gotten accustomed to a man who knew what he was doing, to a man who was generous in bed. You had gotten used to a man who could make you cum. No one had achieved that after him. Your answer obviously pleases him, he grins and leans down to kiss you again.

He ends the kiss and stands up leaving you spread out on the bed, you whine underneath him, chasing for more. He ignores you and slips off his suit jacket. He makes a show of undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his sleeves in order to push them up to his elbows. Fuck, he looks so good. You almost want to tell him, but you don;t need to. He can see the way you're watching him, that look in your eye. He knows what you look like when you’re turned on - and this is it. He grabs your thighs and pushes your dress up to your waist, getting a good look before sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder somewhere.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, baby. I know what you need. I can’t wait to taste you.” He rambles as you whimper in anticipation, he presses a kiss to your ankle as he watches you buck your hips.

He has his mouth on you before you can respond. Just as you remember, he is painfully and infuriatingly good at it. He still eats pussy like it's his second nature. He still looks up at you through his gorgeous lashes as he traces your clit with his tongue. He has to hold back from grinning against you as you writhe and whimper. He groans as you sigh his name and run your hand through his hair. You remember how much you love it when he’s like this, when he's animalistic and loses his composure.

Your legs tighten around his head as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. It’s fucking embarassing how quickly you barrel towards your climax, but it has been a while. And no one else devours you like this, no one else is this good. You should have expected it. He recognizes it immediately, breaking away from you for a second to speak.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yes! Please, Stew.” You moan, your hands grabbing at his hair attempting to push him back down. He smiles wickedly, licking his lips as he watches you.

“God, I love it when you beg for me.” He mumbles before diving back in, allowing you to push his head down and maneuver him.

"Please make me come," you groan, arching your back. “I'm so close, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t stop, he continues to lap at you and work you though your orgasm as you come against his mouth. His beard delightfully scratches your sensitive skin, leaving behind a delicious burning feeling. He’s painfully hard now, after watching you come and hearing you moan his name. You begin to push at his head when you come down, usually he would tease you a little now, knowing how sensitive you are and make the most of it. But he’s so fucking desprate for you, he has been all night. He’s been dreaming about being inside of you for hours now.

He’s instantly on his feet, undoing his belt and undressing. You follow suit, weakly sitting up - doing the best your legs can do when they feel like jelly, you lift your dress over your head and throw it on the floor with his clothes. He’s climbing back on top of you, kissing you hungrily. His lips and chin are still wet with your juices and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his lips.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, fully prepared to submit to him- to do whatever he asks.

“Fuck,” He groans at your words, having to pause for a second. “Can you turn over for me?”

You smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time before turning over and crawling to the middle of the bed, pushing yourself up onto your knees and holding yourself up on your elbows, so your back is deliciously arched the way you know he likes. You grin as you hear him groan behind you, his hand petting your ass before he delivers a light slap to it. He steps away from you and you hear the rustling of a condom wrapper, did he have that in his fucking pocket? His words from earlier repeat in your head, ‘I only came because I hoped you would be here.’

“Plese fuck me, Stewy.” You moan softly, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I need you.”

”How bad?” He teases. The head of his cock is ever so slightly pressing against your entrance, he’s hardly holding back as he waits for your answer, pushing in slightly.

“So bad,” You sigh, pushing back on him so he slips easily inside of you. You both moan loudly, you love that he’s so loud and shameless in bed. He stays still once he’s bottomed out.

“Yeah?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Please move. I need to be fucked properly, only you can do it.”

The sound he makes behind you is heavenly, you knew that would work. He pulls out of you before pushing back in slowly. He always does this, he starts slow and then builds up to a bruising pace. All you can do is whimper beneath him and beg for him to fuck you faster. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, his cock pushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust.

“You take me so fucking well. Like you were fucking made for me.” His voice is deep and raw.

”I think I am,” You moan. “You feel so fucking good!”

“Are you gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Gonna soak my cock?”

All you can do is furiously nod your head and moan beneath him, the sounds of your pussy squelching as he fucks you is almost embarassing. You don’t have time to think about it because he’s pulling out of you and gently flipping you over onto your back. He lifts your legs and rests his knees on the bed, throwing your feet over his shoulders and he leans over you. He guides his cock back into you and dives down to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips in a messy kiss. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths, not minding when your teeth momentarily clack together.

“Come on gorgeous,” He groans, he’s breathless - pressing kisses to your face between his words. You can tell he’s close too. “Come for me. Squeeze my cock. Let me fucking have it.”

He feels you tighten around him as you come, his name leaving your lips like a fucking prayer. Your hands tightening around his neck, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, that’s it. You look so beautiful, baby.” He talks you through it, still fucking you as you come around him.

“Oh my god,” You moan. “Come inside of me, Stewy.”

You know he’s wearing a condom, but the dirty talk is hot. He thinks so too, because that's all it takes for him to come. His head is buried in your neck, his teeth biting into the soft skin under your ear. No doubt leaving a mark, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now all you can think about is how hot he sounds when he comes, you love that he isn’t quiet, that he isn’t afraid to groan your name into your neck.

He stays still for a second, lifting his head and kissing you - gently this time, before he pulls out. You rest for a minute while he discards the condom. You hear rustling and sniffing while he’s in the bathroom and you almost want to yell out to him - this is why we broke up. But you ignore it, getting up from the bed and breezing past him as he leaves the bathroom. You close the door behind you, taking the hotel robe off the back of the door and cleaning yourself up, doing what you need to do. You wonder if you should shower, but decide you should probably go back to your own room to do that.

When you leave the bathroom he’s sitting in the bed under the covers, the tv remote in his hand. Your dress and underwear have been picked up and folded on the chair beside the bed. It makes you smile, how can someone be so thoughtful but so selfish at the same time. That’s why you broke up, you need to keep reminding yourself.

“So, I guess I'm gonna go back to my own room.” You say as you gather your things. You’re on your way back to the bathroom with your clothes when he speaks up.

“Okay,” He says, respecting your decision. “Why?”

”Why?” You repeat, stopping your tracks. “Don’t you want me to go?”

”No. I want you to watch tv with me.”

”Seriously?” You laugh before you realize he’s being serious.

“Yeah, seriously.” His face is impassive, and hard to read. But you can’t resist those big brown eyes and you drop your clothes back onto the floor and slip into bed with him.

“Hey,” He whines as he looks at your dress. “I picked that up and folded it for you and you just threw it on the floor again.”

“Sorry, how rude of me.” You laugh at the mock pout on his face. You’ve sat pretty far away from him and he eyes the space between you.

“Come here.” He says lifting up his arm so you can cuddle into his side. God, you shouldn’t be doing this, you should have left. But he smells good and this bed is so comfortable.

“Will you stay the night here?” He asks quietly

”I shouldn’t.” You sigh.

“I know.” He agrees.

Of course you end up staying the night, Stewy is very convincing. With his promise of round two and a warm shower in the morning, it’s hard to resist. He also promises an expensive breakfast after the shower, but he says, ‘only if you behave yourself.’ You spend the whole night talking and laughing with him. Not only is he the best fuck you’ve ever had, he’s also the funniest person on earth. He’s got the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen but he’s also the biggest assole you’ve ever met. He’s so confusing, but that night you decide that maybe taking a little more time to try and figure him out won’t be so bad - only time will tell.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Remember me as small (I fear I've swallowed the sun whole)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist here

pairing: mentioned dick grayson x reader, platonic bruce wayne x reader

length: 900

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: bruce is a sort of father figure to reader, reader kind of has a meltdown, dick is idk downstairs partying while this happens

a/n: soft launching Good Dad Bruce Wayne here before I let y'all have the bruce wayne verse, I think it's nice to read it isn't always easy before this but it's unnecessary

You're standing in Bruce's study when he finds you, drink in one hand while the other stays wrapped around your own waist - like a child clinging to their parent, except the only person you had to cling to was yourself. You don't move when he approaches, quietly closing the door behind him and coming to stand next to you, eyeing where the joint contract of your company's new deal with Wayne Industries sits framed on his wall amongst his various other professional achievements. 

"Have I made enough of myself?" you ask quietly, and the tone of your voice sends warnings through Bruce's head. He's heard you like that before - small and scared and tired. Unsure. And you never let yourself be seen as unsure. But he'd seen it a few times, many years ago when he'd first met you, a lost child with your hackles raised too high to let him help you. He didn't like hearing that voice coming from you, especially not now when you were here in his home - somewhere where you should be safe and happy.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" he prompts gently, tenderly pulling your drink out of your hands and setting it on a nearby table. You look at him with wide, watery eyes and his heart clenches.

"Have I done enough?" you whisper, as if speaking any louder would tear holes in the blanket you've pulled over your emotions. "I'm not small anymore, right? Not like I was. I… I'm bigger now. I'm good now. I grew into something good, right? I made… I made something of myself… didn't I?"

"If you made any more of yourself, sweetheart, you'd outgrow the sun," he whispers back as he takes one of your hands in both of his, flipping it so that your palm is facing up and he can smooth over the tension under your skin with gentle thumbs and soft pressure. 

"Do you remember when I was small?" you ask tentatively, keeping your eyes trained on your joined hands while he keeps his own trained on you.

"Yes," he says easily, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. I'm here, it meant. I'm here and I remember you. "Although you were hardly small, even then. Your heart was so big, you just needed time to grow into it."

"Did I grow up well?" your voice wavers and Bruce pulls you closer to him by your joined hands before placing your palm on his chest over his heart. I'm here. I'm here and I'm real and I remember you. He hopes you can feel that through the beating of his heart.

"You grew up perfectly," he says, conviction clear in his voice. "And I couldn't be more proud." You make a small, wounded sort of sound at that and your breath hitches in a way he knows means you're about to cry. He begins to move to pull you into him but pauses when you brace yourself on your own two feet, determinedly steadying yourself on your own against the tidal wave of your emotions.

"Bruce?" you ask. He hums in response.

"I want to go back to being small." That throws him. Of all the confessions that could have passed your lips, that wasn't one he was expecting. The tears that begin to stream down your face, at least, he's prepared for. "I want to be small again, I - I want to go back to when I was small and you offered to love me and take me in and - and I want to say yes this time." You're really crying now, hot tears streaking your cheeks and your chest heaving. "I should've let you when you offered and it's too late and I just - I want to go back to when I could've been loved because I can do it right this time I can say yes I -"

Bruce stops you then, finally, shushing you gently (but firmly, in that authoritative, fatherly way that he does) and pulls you closer to him so that you can bury your face in his chest and sob into the fabric of his dress shirt. He holds you like that for a good long while, doing his best to soothe you despite the worry that knots in his stomach. This isn't like you, he thinks. He doesn't like seeing you collapse like this. A part of him, though, although guilty, is almost relieved - pleased that you've turned to him instead of managing it on your own. As much as he hates to see you cry, he would always rather be there than turn away from you.

"Listen to me very closely, sweetheart," he says gently, once your sobs have quieted and calmed down to little sniffs and hiccups. You pull away to look at him. "It's not too late," he promises. "You're always home here - always. And I'll always be here. And… and I do love you. I've never been the best at showing it. I'm sure - I'm sure Dick's told you enough about that." You huffed out a laugh.

"Yea, uh, he's mentioned it."

"Yea," Bruce says, shifting his weight. "But, I do love you, and you're just as much my child as the others. I'm sorry I… I'm sorry I didn't realize you needed to hear that sooner. I'm sorry I didn't help more. I thought that maybe letting you keep yourself upright was the best thing to do. I didn't want to push, I - I was so afraid of pushing you away. But I never, ever, wanted you to feel unloved. You're home here, I promise."

[simoia-vajik]

Transposition In The Universe no.5

(A two in one, never done this before! Anways, as per usual, I hoped you enjoy the series. This has a tiny little surprise later on, so keep an eye out!)

It was a particularly busy week. Throughout from Monday afternoon to Wednesday evening, Robotnik has accompanied Dr. Stone to multiple assignments, requests and budget meetings, completely filling up their entire week schedule, pushing its way to next week’s.

Standing in front of the conference room a minute before the meeting, Robotnik is tired and thoroughly pissed at everyone in the building, all besides the Doctor himself. Dr. Stone stood next him, his sunglasses – Robotnik often refers to them as “optic frame” as it sounds more professional – hangs just above his forehead, resting against his hair.

The Doctor, to put it nicely, looks like shit. Though his suit is neat, his appearance presentable and posture suggests he is a very respectable figure, Dr. Stone’s expression said something else entirely. Brows slightly furrowed, eyes focusing lazily on an invisible dot on the conference’s door, lips pressed together as an attempt to keep himself from losing it all, Dr. Stone looked like he went through too many Thanksgiving party’s bullshit to even care about another insult thrown at him.

“Sir- “ Robotnik spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence that enveloped them.

Instead of being able to get what he wanted to say out there, the Doctor interrupts him with a slightly dramatic but quiet sigh, “I hate everyone here.” Dr. Stone said dismissively and quite quietly, his eyes never leaving the invisible dot as he sighs through his nostrils.

Robotnik shuts up, knowing that saying anything further would feed into the already simmering fire of the Doctor’s somewhat controllable rage.

This changes completely when they get into the meeting. Just like the first time Robotnik attended a meeting with the Doctor, his pupils are dilated and expression so calm you can say he’s on anesthesia. The Doctor replies accordingly to everything the Commander said, making the man smile pleasantly.

Robotnik is still shocked at the strange display of emotions despite everything he heard just a few moments ago. When Robotnik is barely paying attention, the Commander suddenly looks their way and smiles kindly.

“Of course we will increase your funding, Dr. Stone. It’s a delight to work with you!” Said – and possibly complimented – Commander Walters. In response to that, Dr. Stone smiles brightly; he basically looks like a child who got what he wanted from the toy store.

Robotnik cringes at the Doctor’s expression, mostly because he was confused.

Robotnik trails behind the Doctor after the meeting is concluded, leaving the main building to head back to the lab. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, giving the Doctor an opportunity to be outside without overwhelming sensory issues. Robotnik has to admit, he really likes looking at the Doctor’s eyes despite the coldness and menace that they hide. They are beautiful in their entirety, but it was interesting how most of his emotions are shown by them. They also offer an advantage at manipulating people into thinking he actually respects them.

In the corner of the Agent’s eyes, he sees a man approaching them, his face stern and uniform like that of a commander. Robotnik slowly eases Dr. Stone behind him as the man came closer, ensuring that the Doctor doesn’t have to deal with any further bullshit from people of higher positions.

“Halt! Dr. Stone isn’t scheduled to see anyone at this moment.” The Agent said sternly, putting a hand up to stop any further advancements from the other man.

The commander guy just frowns further, looking Robotnik up and down as if silently criticizing his position. Robotnik didn’t give a shit what other people think, the fact that they hired him because of his flawless track record said enough about their standards. Robotnik was pretty sure they didn’t pay attention to the note his former superiors left back, stating his eccentric and often frustrating personality.

“I have important business with Dr. Stone. I must speak with him.” Said the man, trying to push his way past Robotnik to get to the Doctor.

Robotnik isn’t impressed, far from it, actually. He glances back briefly to find that Dr. Stone is distractedly staring at a bee flying near him. Well, at least he wouldn’t be bothered by whatever this man has to say.

“What is your name again?” Robotnik asked, his face betraying all sense of respect towards the other man. The man in question now just looks angry, which makes Robotnik smirks mockingly.

“My name i- “

“[Bzt]!”

“M- “

“[Brzt]!”

“Commande- “

“[Brr]! Nobody cares!” Sentence after sentence left unfinished as Robotnik cuts in every time just to piss the guy off. He knew he was successful as the commander man just huffs angrily before walking away.

When Robotnik is finished praising himself for being such an insufferable agent, he turns back to see that Dr. Stone was basically chasing the bee from earlier, aimlessly following its trail almost off site. Robotnik runs after the Doctor and drags him back to the lab. Gladly, Dr. Stone wasn’t mad at him for it, just sighing lazily and following the Agent back.

Upon arriving at the lab’s door, both men are met with multiple and overlaying beeping noises coming from inside. It reveals to be the Doctor’s drone-like machines acknowledging their return. Robotnik smiles to himself; seeing that his upgrades are working well with the machines’ original function and program; it gives him a strong sense of pride, too strong in fact Robotnik is muttering praises to himself.

Dr. Stone, on the other hand, looks curiously at them, but soon dismisses the drone-like machines and returns to his work bench at the control panel. Robotnik coos, rubbing and patting their outer metal shells, praising them for being good machines and that he is infinitely proud of them. In a way, they were his creations too; he did, after all, play a part in their later development.

“I have to ask, boss, do these guys have a name?” Robotnik asked, his hands following and directing the drone-like machines back to their docking stations.

Dr. Stone stays silent, control gloves beeping every now and then as he checks the unread emails Commander Walters has sent him. Dr. Stone doesn’t reply for a long while whilst Robotnik starts thinking of names for them.

If he were to have drones of his own, surely he would name them in a way people know he was their creator, like “Badnik”. For Dr. Stone, however, it seems a little difficult on the part that his last name is just “Stone”. Then, an absurdly hilarious thought pops into Robotnik’s mind that he couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

Dr. Stone turns his attention to his giggling Agent, eyes laser focused on him with curiosity that levelled a child’s. When Robotnik regains his composure, he looks over to the staring doctor. Right, he must be wondering about the source of Robotnik’s amusement. Robotnik looks over to the drones once more, before turning his full attention back to the Doctor with a smirk.

“You know” – he stretches the last syllable – “You can always call them… Stoners.” Robotnik chuckled lightly when finishing off his sentence, watching as the curiosity on Dr. Stone’s face turns confusion then irritation.

Robotnik doesn’t dwell on the fact that Dr. Stone refuses to answer him anymore for the rest of the day after that exchange, simply taking his place at his work station and offering to read through those emails for the Doctor. He knew proposing such a name would earn him the cold shoulder and silent treatment, but it was worth it.

Hours pass until it was the Doctor’s afternoon coffee hour. Robotnik takes his time while the coffee brew, absentmindedly playing with the rim of the cup. Once it was ready, he brings it out and puts it down within Dr. Stone’s reach, but far enough so it doesn’t get accidently knocked over and spill out on the control panel.

Robotnik makes his way back to his desk, stopping in his tracks when he heard the Doctor mumbling something presumably directed at him. The Agent cranes his neck back to look at his boss, waiting expectantly for a more audible response or a sign of dismiss.

“Litho.” Dr. Stone mumbled without bite, eyes darting over to observe Robotnik’s reaction for a split second before returning his attention back to the holo-screens. Robotnik stares, confused why the Doctor said “litho” out of nowhere. Is this a safe-word of some kind or what is it?

Seeing his Agent’s confusion, Dr. Stone spins his chair to face Robotnik, his expression neutral but there was an edge to it, like he was frustrated at Robotnik’s oblivion. He basically pulled up another holo-screen for Robotnik to look at, the word and its definition laying clearly across the blue semi-transparent screen.

Robotnik quickly skims through it before the Doctor wipes it away and return to his work. He thought about the word over and over as he returns to his work station, testing the pronunciation on his tongue as he looks to the machines in their charging stations. It was like choosing a name for a newborn, but that isn’t the case at the moment.

Once the Agent seems satisfied with the naming, he nods decisively, eyes squinting and finger twirling his mustache as he lets the name settles further.

“Sounds good, boss!” Robotnik said after a while, his tone soft and hushed, head turning slowly to his direction though he kept his eyes glued to the now-called lithos. Not only do their design fit the definition of the word, it is also another way for others to know that they were the Doctor’s creation; Robotnik has really outdone himself with the design, and Dr. Stone really shows that he is no less imaginative.

Dr. Stone acknowledges the Agent’s affirmation with a noncommittal hum in response as he continues with his work, his control gloves beeping and carrying out all the actions the Doctor wants it to perform. Seeing that he needs to get back to work, Robotnik strolls back over to his desk, sitting down and falling into the comfortable silence.

Litho, Robotnik thought again, turning and dissecting the word over and over, his attention split between working on his actual job and thinking how the name fits with his creations.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

[pimosworld]

Only if you catch me

Pairing- Frankie Morales × flreader

Chapter Summary- You and Frankie have your second date and things get tense for both of you after Benny’s fight.

Chapter Warning- 18+, MDNI, Smut, mentions of addiction, angst, fluff, kissing, sexual tension, flirting, fingering, hint of exhibitionism, protective reader, unprotected piv, soft dom Frankie. (No longer a slow burn)

WC-9.6k

A/N- I’m officially obsessed with these two, cue the Frankie Friday show because he certainly puts on one this chapter.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 3. Flash

Casual, 7 pm. 

  A pattern you recognized with Frankie that he didn’t offer many details when it came to your dates so far. Maybe it was the military in him that kept things concise and to the point. Or it could be that he likes surprises, craves spontaneity to keep things exciting. 

  You hope he knows that it doesn’t always have to be like this. With him you could be doing absolutely nothing and still have an amazing time. 

  It was starting to scare you how much your sleeping and waking thoughts were consumed by Frankie. His good morning calls or texts. His sweet messages throughout the day. The way he didn’t mind you falling asleep at night while you were on the phone only to wake up and hear him snoring on the other end. 

  You had some boring shoot for a law firm in the middle of the week. Not your favorite gigs but it paid the bills. One of those sleazy law firms that would take anyone’s money, their faces plastered on every bus and billboard they could get their hands on. This was not an aesthetic shot-but you respected yourself more than that to phone it in. 

  Of course these men could care less that you were trying to do the job they paid you for and instead insisted on wasting your time but trying to flirt with you in between shots. Literally and figuratively speaking, you would have to do your best to hide the blood shot eyes as they sipped on cheap whiskey in fancy glasses. You finished the job and hastily  wrapped it up to say your goodbyes as you made your way out to the parking lot when you noticed one of the lawyers following you. Afraid you’d left something important you waited for him to approach your car but to your dismay with the liquor flowing through his veins you could see he wanted nothing more than to ruin your day. He leaned on your car, his eyes half lidded slurring something about calling you. The pungent smell of his breath taking you to a place you didn’t want to think about.

  You had texted Frankie the location of the law firm and just like a knight in shining armor you hear his truck roar into the parking lot. 

  A look you’re certain would make your worst enemy shit their pants was on his face when he hopped out the drivers side and made his way around to you both. 

  “Just in time to take you to lunch.” His voice is so sweet to you as he leans in and kisses your cheek. 

  “Francisco Morales.” He grits out as he takes the man’s hand. 

  “Walters…John Walters.”He grimaces under his intense grip and you have to hide your smile behind your hand. 

  Frankie releases his grip not wanting to touch him any longer. He can smell the alcohol coming out of his pores and it makes his skin crawl. He turns to you not wanting to waste another moment and hoping this guy gets the hint and takes a hike. 

  “You okay baby?” His thumb grazes your cheek where his lips just were and you swallow thick. 

  “I am now.” 

  Nothing happened and really you were fine, but the look in his eyes is so sincere that you wonder what happened to make him this way. 

  “Come on, let’s get you some lunch and then I’ll follow you home.” The switch has your head spinning as he guides you into the passenger seat. 

  And he does just that. 

  You have a quick lunch and he takes you home, ever the gentleman. Right now you were wishing he would lay off the routine and be a little bolder. Your pace. You asked for this and he’s respecting your wishes. 

  ****

  6:55 pm 

  There’s a light knock on your door and you have to slow down to not seem like you were waiting next to it. Your heart thumps hard in your chest when you open it and see him standing there. 

  His wet curls poking out under his cap. The long line of his neck and the way his tee shirt hugs all the right places. The worn, faded jeans sitting low on his hips and the small gold belt buckle just barely showing. 

  There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t gauge. His hands fidget at his side as he hovers in the doorway. He looks a little flustered as he takes you in. 

  You somehow make casual look like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. The cotton black dress that hits mid thigh, your light oversized denim shirt hanging just a little lower than the dress. That familiar smell of something that you’re always shrouded in that leaves him feeling at home. The way you cling to his clothes long after he’s gone from you. 

  Your soft hand taking his to lead him inside and this is dangerous territory when he’s trying to go at your pace. The way he instinctively pulls you into him as your other hand wraps around his neck and pulls him into a kiss that lasts almost too long to call it a hello. 

  You drop your bag as he backs you up against the couch and you can feel the hard press in his jeans at the thought of you. The way his hands grip your waist like you’re going to vanish into thin air. 

  It would be so easy to let him take you down your hall into your bedroom and let him bring down those walls you’ve built up over the last year. As he pulls away with a groan when you take his bottom lip between your teeth you know you’re being unfair. 

  Because he’s being a gentleman and you’re being a tease. 

  But the build up is the best part. The anticipation of waiting and waiting for the right moment. 

  “Hi.” It’s the innocent way you say it, like you didn’t almost just have him committing several sins. 

  He takes off his cap, his cheeks flushed and his face distressed as he runs his fingers deliriously through his hair. “Hi.” He huffs out. “I missed you.” 

  I missed you so much it scares me. 

  “Me too.” 

  The most simple task is daunting because I can’t focus on anything else. 

  You can tell now that normal introductions are in the past. Gone are the days where you can give him a brief hug or a kiss on the cheek. 

  Frankie knows if he doesn’t get a grip he runs the risk of making you his new high. You deserve much better than that. You’re not a quick fix or an impulsive decision. You are the only person that makes him feel good. Good in a way that he’s never felt. 

  “You ready for our second date?” He smiles at the way you can’t meet his eyes when he mentions it. 

  “Of course. Where are we going?” He fits your hand in his as he leads you to the door. 

  “You’ll find out when we get there.” 

  ****

  His hand has found a home in what you’ve coined his normal spot on your thigh. The innocent reassuring gesture of his thumb grazing back and forth is making goosebumps rise on your skin. 

  Your eyes follow the trail of his hand, the thick veins on his arm up the path to his large biceps. He stretches his neck and you watch his throat bob when he swallows and you want to trace your tongue alongside it. 

  Fuck. You need a distraction, anything besides looking at his gorgeous face. 

  You try to focus on the road, the trees passing you by. The town in the rearview as you approach the outskirts and you glance back into the cab of his truck to see a pile of-

  “Eyes forward missy.” He fixes you with a look and then averts his gaze back to the road. Something about the command in his tone is not making your situation any better. “Don’t want you to ruin the surprise.” 

  You laugh and shake your head. “I’m gonna start calling you Mr. Surprise.” 

  “You can call me Mr. Morales if you’d like.” His voice dropping to an octave you almost don’t register. 

  You raise your eyebrows at that. Taking his hand off your thigh to kiss his palm. Feeling his pulse thrum against your lips when you trail a little higher. Your teeth graze his vein and you hear a low growl emit from his chest. 

  It seems you’ve decided to pick up your pace a little and Frankie isn’t going to stop whatever this is. The energy in his truck has changed to something feverish. The feel of your soft lips on his arm and his hairs stand up as you graze your teeth along his pulse point. 

  “You’re playing a dangerous game baby.” No real sense of seriousness in his tone. 

  You drop his hand and place it a little higher than its original position and he squeezes. Not missing the way your legs adjust to let him in. 

  “Too dangerous?” 

  He just shakes his head. “Lucky for you I can handle heavy machinery under pressure.” His eyes back on the road as to not watch where it’s disappearing under your dress. 

  But thankful or not so when he hears your breath catch in your throat at the sight of reaching the destination. 

  Your excited squeals as the large screens come into view and his chest swells with pride because he’s planned yet another successful surprise for you. 

  ****

  He had to contain himself for now. 

  He’s excited to get the date underway as you sit in the cab of the truck waiting patiently for him to set up the pillows and blankets in the bed. He found the perfect spot in the middle-back, just enough privacy to have you all to himself. 

  You haven’t been to the drive-ins in ages. Not since you were a teenager, hormones raging and nervousness thrumming deep in your bones. Not much different than tonight except your date is exceedingly more handsome and capable than the brace faced junior that spent so long trying to unclasp your bra that you both gave up and sat in silence for the remainder of fast and the furious. 

  A veteran pilot that’s maneuvered in live fire and the likes will undeniably have more practiced hands when it comes to you. 

  You gently work open the truck slider window to observe his meticulous set up for the night. He lays out a navy blue fleece blanket that looks so velvety. Next he spreads a large knitted throw in a burnt orange shade. He places a few oversized pillows with flannel covers along the back and tucks a few into the sides. 

  Frankie’s attention to detail was so evident as he fluffs each pillow and smooths out the blankets, despite knowing you were going to mess them up once you laid out. Finally he sets out a few decorative throw pillows at the bed of the truck. He claps his hands, sitting back on his haunches signaling he’s done. 

  He catches your eyes when he hears you laugh at his scrupulous preparation. 

  “I told you no peeking.” He points at you as he crawls toward the open window. 

  You shrug as you bite your bottom lip. “I didn’t have anything to look at.” 

  He shifts his hat to the back and before you have time to process what that does to you he’s kissing you. You lean into it to meet him as his broad shoulders push against the frame. He pulls away all too soon leaving you a little breathless. 

  “So, what do you think?” You sense some sad apprehension in his eyes that you want to wipe away. 

  He watches your eyes roam over him, stopping somewhere near his throat. “I think I want to join you on the other side of this window.” 

  ****

  Outside the sky is deepening into twilight, you’re nestled under the blankets with Frankie. His sturdy legs bracketing you in as you lean against his chest. The calmness of his breathing lulling you into some waking daydream. 

  “Do I get to know what we’re seeing?” Your head back in time to see the dimple creasing his face. 

  “Have you not learned by now hermosa?” Sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

  You huff out in frustration, fixing your eyes to the blank white screen. “Surprises, surprises.” 

  His laugh moves you quite literally and figuratively. 

  He cranes his neck at the sound of crunching gravel and a young man probably high school age approaches with a tray of food. He adjusts to take the tray from him as he sends you a nervous smile. Frankie hands him a wad of cash and the boy's eyes go wide as saucers as he goes to protest and Frankie just tells him to keep it. 

  He glances into the truck bed and shakes his head in disbelief. “Thanks sir, I really appreciate this.” He holds the tip up before depositing it into his front pocket. 

  “That was very kind of you Frankie.” You say sincerely as you turn to face him. 

  He blushes as he lays out the tray of hotdogs and popcorn. “I was young once….I remember needing some extra money to help my family.” He doesn’t finish his thought and you let the moment pass between you in understanding, not wanting to delve deeper into that part of yourselves yet. 

  As you both eat in contented silence the familiar crackle of the speakers sound from the cab of the truck. The screen flickers to life showing a sun soaked beach as the waves crash against the rocks. Danny and Sandy walk hand in hand and you pause mid bite as the opening chords of ‘summer nights’ start to play. 

  “No way.” You exclaim softly as a delighted grin speaks across your face. “I love Grease.”

  Frankie’s watching you closely. “I thought you’d like that.” His tone filled with a quiet satisfaction. 

  “It’s like we’re having our own little grease moment.” 

  He hums as he sets the trays out of the way and pulls you back into his embrace. “I guess you could say that. Just missing a convertible and our own summer romance soundtrack.” 

  You laugh and someone shushes you nearby causing you both to chuckle before he presses a kiss to your temple. He mumbles something unintelligible but along the lines of ‘behave’ and his tone has you wanting to do anything but. 

  You manage to settle down and watch the movie, Frankie loves when you sing along as you sway in his arms. If he had known he would have to wait a lifetime to have this with you he’d wait a thousand. All the bullshit and failed relationships somehow has led him here. He knows he’s starting to sound like his therapist but doesn’t that mean the shit is actually doing what it’s supposed to? 

  The drive in scene comes on and you groan slightly as you tilt your head back. The screen illuminates him  just enough for you to see the smirk on his face. 

  “This is so cliche.” 

  “I know, it’s almost as if I planned it this way.” You squirm a little in his hold as he grips you tighter. You’ve inadvertently been grinding against him this entire movie and he’s been doing his best to be a gentleman. “I promise not to pull a fast one on you like our boy Danny.” He nods at the screen just as Sandy jumps out of the car and slams the door. 

  You can feel the hard press of his cock straining on his jeans against your back. You’ve been quite the tease this whole time hoping he’d take a hint but he’s letting you take the lead. “What if I wanted you to?” 

  You think for a moment that maybe he didn’t hear you and you can just avoid the embarrassment of having to repeat yourself. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your back as his grip on you tightens. The way the scruff of his beard hair barely brushes your cheek as he leans close to your ear. 

  “Hermosa?” He lets out a deep exhale against your skin. “I need you to show me…exactly what it is…that you want me to do.” 

  You tentatively grab his hand and he releases the hold he has on your hip to let you guide him. It starts just above your stomach. He sucks in a breath as you slide it further over the soft lace of your panties. 

  You stop there. Your eyes fixated on the screen but you aren’t watching the movie. He nuzzles the back of your neck as he whispers in your ear. “You want me to touch you here?” His fingers tap once and it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. 

  He doesn’t miss the way you say ‘please’ breathlessly as he watches your chest rise and fall. 

  His hand is hot, the heat seeps through the thin material making the wetness of your arousal known to both of you. 

  He swiftly moves your panties to the side, his calloused fingers making you shiver as he runs a single digit up and down your slit. 

  You bite back the moan trying to escape your throat. He shushes you gently as he adjusts to lower you both out of prying eyes. “I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me hermosa. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  You manage a nod as his fingers dip in before briefly pulling them back. He presses his thumb against your clit and your hips buck up as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the low rumble in his chest when you let out a squeak. His breathing is coming out in puffs and small grunts as his fingers slide in and out of you. 

  You can feel how hard he is as he grinds against the curve of your ass, each thrust and twist bringing a new wave of arousal. “Jesus Christ you’re soaking my hand baby.” 

  You don’t know how he does it but his expert hands are bringing you to the edge so fast you can’t keep up with your thoughts. 

  You nearly bite your tongue to keep in the whine as you pant his name. You turn into him as he presses his lips against yours, he’s sweet and slightly salty from the lingering taste of the buttery popcorn. 

  He can tell you’re close as you tense up and your back bows when he presses down hard on your clit and swirls. The pleasure is overwhelming and he growls as you bite down on his lip, your pussy clenching tight as you gush around his fingers.

  He swallows the moans of his name, ghosted across his lips as you come down from your high. “You did so good.” He kisses and sucks along your jawline as you literally come down from the stars. His mouth works down the column of your neck and you can feel the prickle of his beard and the sting of his teeth against your skin. 

  “Frankie that was…” you take a moment to catch your breath. You’re boneless as you dro

  You can hear him sucking his fingers and the sound makes you throb. “Fucking tastes like heaven.” 

  This man is gonna be the death of you. 

  He reaches up to cup your chin. You can barely make out his features with your vision still clouded. There's a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his lips. 

  He kisses you again as he pulls the blankets up a little higher and fluffs the pillows around you. 

  The juxtaposition has your head spinning as he turns your attention back to the screen. (Scene in the movie.) 

  “Is that what you had in mind?” He says, pulling you back into his chest. 

  You chuckle as you reach between your bodies. “Something like that.” He grabs your wrist gently to stop you. 

  “But.” 

  “No need.” He cuts you off with a kiss. 

  You shift in his hold to look at him as he looks down at you apprehensively. “Francisco, no you did not!” 

  “Oh yes, I did.” You snort as he squeezes your ass in his palm. “That’s a problem for future me. Now hush and watch the rest of the movie.” 

  You feel his heartbeat against you. The warmth of his breath against your neck. 

  He presses a kiss to your temple when you’re asleep just as the credits roll. 

  ****

  You wake up with the sound of the car door closing and a cool breeze on your face. It takes you a moment to register as you watch Frankie round the front of the truck. 

  “Hello sleepyhead.” He looks at you fondly as he helps you down from the seat. He looks up and down the street, always assessing his surroundings. 

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.” 

  He pulls you into him. “I’m not, you look really cute when you’re sleeping. Also when you’re snoring.” 

  You gasp as you try to wriggle free from his hold. “I do not snore.” 

  You can feel the rumble of his laughter as you rest your head on his chest. You really want to ask him to stay but you’re not sure where his head is at. 

  “Do-“

  “I-“ 

  You laugh as he clears his throat. “I had a nice time tonight.” He holds his hands out palms up as you place yours in his. “You don’t have to say anything, we can still take this slow.” 

  You certainly weren’t taking things slow at the drive ins but you don’t want to pressure him either. 

“Okay.” If he senses the disappointment in your tone he says nothing as he starts to lead you toward your apartment. 

  Frankie steals a quick glance at your legs peeking out under your dress as you climb the stairs. He’s still in a state of shock that things got as far as they did. He doesn’t want to spook you so he’ll go home happy with whatever you’re willing to give him. 

  “Frankie, you’re awfully quiet back there.” You tease as you throw a look to him over your shoulder. 

  “I’m just committing you to memory.” That soft smirk on his face and the adorable dimple in his cheek. 

  He crowds your space as you fumble with your keys but you don’t seem to mind as he presses himself into you. Inhaling your scent like you’re going to evaporate into thin air. 

  You turn in his arms, his lips insistent on yours as he murmurs goodbyes against them. You’re finding it incredibly hard to keep your composure around Francisco Morales. 

  “So, tomorrow Ben has another fight.” He states as he pulls back. 

  “Oh I know he invited me again. This time as a guest, no need for pictures.” 

  He plants another kiss on your cheek. “Good, I’ll pick you up at 7.” He opens your door, inspecting the entryway for surprise intruders and you can’t help but laugh at his authoritative nature. 

  “Good night Francisco.” You wave him off as he throws one more glance at you and descends your stairs. 

  ****

  True to his word Frankie was ready to pick you up sharply at 7 with his charming smile. This was technically your third date and you were determined to ask Frankie to stay over after Ben’s match. You both seemed to buzz with a nervous excitement all night. You relished in the way his hands never left you all night. 

  His hand on your knee on the drive over. His arm wrapped around you when you arrived at the gym, the protective way he pulls you into him when someone glances at you. You find Santiago immediately ringside and he pulls you both into a tight hug. You don’t miss the way he eyes Frankie’s hand in yours and winks at him earning him a small shove. 

  Amber sends you an excited wave across the ring with Will and you can’t wait to catch up with her after. You don’t want to get too ahead of yourself but it feels nice to be a part of such a tight knit group of friends. 

  “Are you nervous?” Frankie leans in close to your ear and you nod against the scruff of his beard. “I know it’s a lot but Ben is something else when he’s in the ring.” 

  “Plus it never lasts long enough for him to sustain any real damage.” Santiago chimes in from beside Frankie. 

  The whistles and cheers start as the men enter the ring. Benny bouncing up and down with his arms raised in the air, those signature blue eyes piercing into his opponent. The man is a little shorter than him but looks to have some weight on him. You can see Will and the guys exchange nervous glances to each other and you’re hoping you’re not about to witness Benny’s first loss. 

  The ref signals the start of the fight and the men dance around each other briefly before Ben takes a hard hit to the ribs, you wince noticing his pain but he quickly recovers as the opponent leans too far into his reach. Benny lands a swift blow to his right eye and it’s almost instantaneous the way it swells up and the man stumbles back. 

  You turn slightly in Frankie’s hold half way looking at the fight and halfway watching the muscles in his jaw work as they tense up in anticipation of each hit. His hands rub up and down your arms to comfort you as he keeps his eyes trained on the fight. Santiago notices you’re not quite watching so he starts offering his charming commentary to let you know Ben is winning, with your complete lack of knowledge in the sport it’s thoughtful of him. Plus you can tell he just loves the sound of his own voice. 

  Frankie spins you around to face the ring while Ben stands albeit exhausted but mostly unscathed next to the referee. The other man is knelt over in his corner and you can’t focus on what used to resemble a face for too long. Red and purple bruises are forming already and the coach looks more disgusted at his own fighter than he does at Ben. 

  “I think they’re gonna call it.” Santi leans in and nudges you while he watches on. 

  You glance back at Frankie with a bemused look on your face. “And that means….”

  Both men just laugh as the ref raises Ben’s arm in triumph and the crowd erupts in a roar of cheers. 

  “It’s a technical knockout. They usually call this when they’re concerned about the other fighter's safety.” Frankie yells over the noise of the crowd. 

  You just hum to yourself and send one more glance to the poor man. “That’s definitely for the best.” You reach down and rifle around in your bag before your hands land on your prized possession. 

  You promptly start taking photos of Ben as he runs around the ring, sweat and grime rolling off his body as he cheers victorious. Frankie eyes you suspiciously as Santiago looks on in delight. 

  “You’re supposed to be taking the night off.” 

  “I am.” Ben bounds over to you with his signature pose, wide grin on his face and you snap a photo. “This is for fun.” 

  “Flash can’t resist taking photos of my beautiful face.” He teases as he leans over the ropes. 

  “Flash?” 

  Frankie groans and scrubs his hands down his face. 

  “It’s your nickname sweetheart, everyone gets one when they’re part of the crew.” Ben tips his head to your camera. “You’re either flashing that thing at me or your gorgeous smile.” He winks at you as a hearty laugh echoes from Santiago. 

  Frankie points at him and arches a disapproving brow. “I’m gonna need you to quit flirting with my girlfriend.” 

  “Can’t hear you!” Ben jumps over the ropes and heads towards the lockers with Santiago in tow. 

  The nickname, Santiago being so nice to you, the admission that you’re part of the crew. Now Frankie is just casually calling you his girlfriend. You’re trying to contain your emotions but it’s mind blowing how fast this is all happening. 

  Amber and Will join you on the other side as the rest of the crowd starts to disperse. Will eyes Frankie and they walk off to the side as Amber pulls you into a heartfelt hug. She smells like Lemon and Jasmine and you can’t help but wonder if it’s her hair or just her natural scent. 

  “I hope this doesn’t come off weird but you smell really good.”

   She laughs and waves you off. “Not weird at all hon’. I’m glad you said something.” She leans in close, glancing over at Will and Frankie before she continues. “I’ve been running a little experiment the last few weeks, testing different perfumes for the wedding. So far this one has received the most compliments.”

  You remember Will mentioning they were engaged but you don’t really have many details about how soon they were planning on tying the knot. 

  “If I’m being honest.” She bites her lip and mumbles. “We were almost late because of this perfume.” 

  You try to school your face as she laughs at your obvious awkwardness and you can’t help but join in, delighted in how comfortable she already is with you. 

  “What are you ladies over here giggling about?” Of course Will chimes in while Frankie trails behind with a mischievous look on his face. 

  She shrugs as your eyes flick to hers and you both burst into a fit of laughter. You’ll just have to let them wonder as Frankie comes up behind you leaning down to your ear. “We’re going to celebrate, if you don’t want to come-“ 

  “Of course I do!” You exclaim and your excitement catches him off guard a little. 

  He plants a soft kiss on your cheek and you can hear the teasing from Ben as he reappears freshly changed from the locker rooms. 

  Amber bumps your hip and takes your hand in hers as you all make your way toward the exit. “I’m glad you’re coming. We have lots to talk about.”

  ****

  Frankie could tell you were nervous on the way to the bar, your fingers tapping gently against the worn leather seats in his truck. He took your hand in his and placed a kiss to your palm to let you know it would be alright and that he would be right by your side. He had to get used to being in this sort of environment early on in his sobriety. The guys had already sacrificed so much for him and he didn’t want them to give up their regular hang out just because he needed to get his shit together. Despite him knowing they would do anything for him, he adjusted fairly easily. The booze never did him any good and only served as a gateway for his other addictions. 

  If you were being honest you didn’t expect much of a place called Bar None going in. The neon sign flickered outside casting a warm, welcome glow. Amber takes your hand leading you away from the main bar to head towards their usual spot they’ve claimed as their own. You’re greeted by the comforting, familiar aroma of old wood and faint hints of spilled beer. Not all your memories of alcohol reminded you of your mom thankfully. The distinct smell of beer brought back fond memories of lazy sundays with your dad while you sat and watched football. 

  The room is a tapestry of rich, deep hues-cherry red bar stools and polished mahogany tables glimmer under the vintage hanging lanterns. As you both settle into the booth you can’t help but feel this odd sense of nostalgia. The space feels like a perfect sanctuary from the outside world. 

  “Better than you expected?” Her voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and you nod in approval. 

  The bar is bustling tonight with patrons in various states of disarray. Couples on the makeshift dance floor, others deep in boisterous conversations. And Frankie, looking effortlessly handsome as he approaches with a Diet Coke and a glass of ice balanced precariously in one hand and Amber’s drink in the other. He slides into the booth beside you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope this is fine.” His voice a soft rumble that you can’t help but smile at as he cracks the can and pours it into the glass. 

  “Of course it is.” 

  “I’ll be over at the pool table with the guys. Call me if you need anything.” He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze as he slides out of the booth. 

  You catch Amber’s eye as she raises an eyebrow suggestively, but you’re too engrossed in Frankie’s retreating form, his shirt pulled tight against his back and his jeans hug low on his hips. 

  “You know.” You start, taking a sip of your cold beverage. “I often wonder how that man is single.”

  She laughs as she takes a sip of her drink, her gaze flitting briefly to the guys all taking turns shoving Benny, as if he wasn’t just beat up enough. “I used to wonder the same thing about Will.” A brief pause before she focuses her attention on you. “It takes a special kind of person to handle all of their baggage. It was hard at first but, in the end it all worked out.” 

  She’s considering you at the moment, how much do you really know? To be fair everything is so new that you expect you know as much as you should. You haven’t really divulged too much into your private life yet, both of you wanting to keep things light and fun. You can tell by the way she’s surveying you that it’s a conscious effort to not overstep her boundaries when it comes to Frankie and his personal life. There’s no bit of jealousy or envy when it comes to the fact that she was simply around when their lives were harder and you may not have been offered this opportunity with Frankie if you’d met him any sooner than you did. 

“How do you think things are going?” She asks with an inquisitive tone. 

  “Honestly.” You sigh and she nods awaiting your reply. “Don’t make fun of me, but I think it’s going in the right direction. He’s so genuine, and even when we hang out like this, it feels…right.”

  She takes your hand in hers that you didn’t even realize you were tapping against the table. “ It felt like that when I met Will, so I’m really happy for you…for both of you.”

  Just then Will eyes her from across the bar and calls his shot, sending the guys into a fit of laughter when he misses by a mile. You turn to her and she’s already looking at you apprehensively when she clears her throat. “ Speaking of Will and I.” Her voice taking on an uncharacteristic nervous tone. “ You can say no if you want, I’ve been dragging my feet on all this wedding stuff. I know it’s a few months away.” Her hands are sweating and she’s taken on a shade of pale you don’t recognize. “ Frankie told me it would be fine, but I know you’re probably really busy with other things.” 

  “Amber, spit it out.” You said with a nervous laugh. 

  “Will you be the photographer for our wedding?” It’s all rushed out and she’s most certainly holding her breath as you let out an excited squeal that has most of this side of the bar sending concerned looks. 

  “Of course, of course.” You embrace her in an awkward hug squeezed into the booth. “ What made you think I would say no?”

  She lets out a deep sigh as she relaxes back into the booth sending Will a thumbs up. “ I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you and the Frankie situation.” She says honestly. 

  “Well, he called me his girlfriend earlier so I think it’s definitely more than a situation.” 

  Now it was her turn to shriek and you both send apologetic looks over to the pool table. 

  “You girls are having too much fun over there, I should join you.” Ben’s voice booms across the bar and he flashes that bright smile,  he starts to make his way over but is swiftly pulled back by Frankie and Will. 

  It’s nice to see Frankie laughing and enjoying time with his friends, you and Amber watch them fondly for a few moments while she provides silent commentary about what she thinks is going on. 

  “Santiago is likely making some bet that he knows he’ll win.” 

  You laugh as you both watch him animatedly pointing at Frankie with the pool stick. 

  “Ben’s probably making fun of his height at this point because that’s all he has.” 

  Ben pats Santi on the head eliciting a small scuffle between the two before Frankie inevitably breaks it up. 

  It’s so interesting how she has all the inner workings of the group down to a tee and even so she can still see the way Frankie can’t keep his eyes off you. It makes your face warm when he finds your eyes across the room, assessing you to make sure you’re still comfortable. 

  Frankie’s so focused on you he doesn’t notice the woman approaching the pool table. She’s about Frankie’s height, long brunette hair and an athletic build. The guys all give her tentative hugs before Frankie’s attention is turned away from you. You notice how he freezes, his shoulders tense and Amber’s narration has long stopped. 

  “Shit.” She curses under her breath and you look at her and notice her wide-eyed stare. Cautiously gauging the situation unfolding in front of her. 

  “Amber.” You place your hand on her arm to grab her attention. “Who’s that?” 

  ****

  “Marissa.” Frankie says through gritted teeth as the guys all slink away to the table. “Funny seeing you here.” 

  Will sends him one last look to make sure he’s good and Frankie waves him off. He just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

  “What’s so funny about me being here? It’s a public place Fish.” The sarcasm drips from her tone as she steps closer to him. He can smell the liquor on her breath and it makes his stomach turn. She’s got a glossy stare that lets on she’s done more than drink tonight. “I used to be a part of this remember.” 

  “You’ve been drinking.” He avoids her mention of their past. 

  “Oh, Francisco’s on his high horse now that he’s sober.” She mocks him and he can feel the anger bubbling under the surface. The way she clutches her chest and the lipstick smeared across her teeth. This isn’t the woman he used to love, the woman that the guys could count on to have their six.

  “You’ve been doing a lot more than drinking, I can tell that much.” She scoffs and looks away, rolling one of the balls into a hole with her hand. She’s got dirt under her fingernails and she’s definitely lost some weight. “Listen….I know we’re not together anymore but I care about you. I think you should start going to meetings ag-“

  “Don’t you fucking do that Frankie.” Her finger in his face as she spits out her insults. “I wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for you and my so called friends.” 

  “Goddamit Marissa!” Frankie rips his cap off, blowing out through his nose. He feels like he could breathe fire. “I don’t do this anymore. I don’t have outbursts or feel like my skin is crawling. I don’t have panic attacks or spend my last dime on a bag of coke.” He punctuates each point with his finger on the pool table beside him. 

  She rolls her eyes and clicks her teeth. “Oh we know you’ve got more than a few dimes to spend now.” 

  “Don’t.” 

  She holds her hands up in surrender. Doing her best to look like a petulant child. That used to work on him but now it just makes his gut churn. “Frankie, honey. I’ll go to meetings if you go with me.” 

  Her hand settles on top of his and he’s frozen to the spot. He feels like a bucket of water has been dumped on his head. Her clammy hand on top of his and all he can do is stare. 

  There’s a firm pressure on his back, it starts slowly creeping up his spine until it settles on the back of his neck. It’s soft and grounding like he’s being consumed by the warmth of the sun. He lets out a deep breath as the nails scratch his scalp sending shivers through his body. He can smell the lavender and vanilla and the way it’s Pavlovian to react to the comforting scent that is you. 

  “Frankie.” 

  He looks a little like a wild animal when his eyes meet yours, they soften a bit at your touch and you could care less at how the woman is feeling. 

  “Are you okay?” 

  He does his best to convey that he’s fine now that you’re here. His lips find yours and he prys his hand away from the one that’s trying to claw its way back into his life. 

  You turn your attention to the woman, her lips in a tight line and her eyebrows raised as if she’s being inconvenienced by your presence. You assess her for a second, you want to make her squirm. Make her feel as uncomfortable as Frankie looks, and it seems she’s waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

  Amber gave you a quick rundown when she noticed her from across the bar. When the guys retreated and exchanged glances as the conversation started to get heated Benny offered to break it up. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you exited the booth and told him you’d handle it. A tinge of jealousy and disgust gave you the boost of confidence you needed to confront the situation. Something totally out of your norm but the way the guys looked at you with a sense of pride made you put one foot in front of the other to save your boyfriend from the demons in his past. 

  She clears her throat. “Hi I’m Marissa, Frankie’s-“

  “Ex.” You cut her off with a pleased smile as she looks a little wide eyed. 

  You can feel Frankie’s eyes on you but you keep your attention on her. 

  Her extended hand to shake yours hangs awkwardly between you. “So, he’s mentioned me then?” Her arms cross as she leans against the table and Frankie huffs a laugh next to you. 

  “No actually he hasn’t.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were prepared to say to her when you approached until you saw her hand on top of his and now it’s as if the words are tumbling out before you can stop them. 

  “I could just tell by the way you felt so comfortable scolding him in a public place.” You gesture to the bar and notice a few eyes on you and the boys watching you from afar. Amber has the most delighted look on her face. “Also by the way you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself I figured there was some history there.” 

  She tries and fails to school her stunned expression at your boldness, unwilling to back down and dare you say stake your claim. 

  “You know…I didn’t get your name.” She says and your reply is cut short when Frankie laces his fingers with yours. 

  “You won’t.” His voice drops dangerously low as he pulls you away from her. “Take care of yourself Marissa.” He means it and telling her it was nice to see her would have been a lie. One last glance over his shoulder and she’s already turned on her heel storming off to the bar. 

  The guys are quiet when you return, likely waiting for you to tell them what the hell happened, Amber sitting next to Will nervously tapping her fingers on the table. 

  For your sake Frankie doesn’t let you flounder when he tells them you guys are leaving. 

  They say their goodbyes and Amber tells you to call her to set up details about the wedding. Frankie looks down at you and relaxes a little. You’re practically beaming at the prospect and he hopes he didn’t completely ruin the night. 

  ****

  He’s eerily quiet as he drives to your apartment. Both hands on the wheel, no hand on your thigh. 

  He’s rattled, a deep scowl on his face as he stares at the lights ahead. You want nothing more than to brush your hand across it, tell him that everything is okay. He lets out a deep sigh every so often and for the first time you see this sad side of him, the side that he keeps locked away and you hope that he’d feel comfortable enough to let you in. 

  You want to ask him if he’s okay. 

  You want to tell him that you’d likely respond the same if you ran into your ex. Possibly run for the hills. 

  It feels weird in the silence of the car and you can only think to reach over and place your hand on his thigh. He tenses at first and glances down briefly, a small gesture that seems even greater to him when he looks over to see you just looking out the window. Knowing it would be too much to look you in the eyes. 

  He finally releases his white knuckle grip on the wheel to place his hand on top of yours, a quick squeeze to say ‘thank you’. 

  When your fingers lace with his he knows that everything is fine…he can finally take a full breath. 

  ****

  You can feel the apology on the tip of his tongue as he walks you to your doorstep. You can see it in the way he takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. A nervous tell early on, even when he looks at you with those deep brown eyes. 

  A deep intake of breath from you both before you place your fingers gently on his lips, his eyes wide in surprise but you’re still feeling bold from the encounter at the bar. 

  “Frankie, you have three options.” He cocks his head to the side, intrigued. 

  “If you’re not feeling up to talking, we can end the night here. I go inside alone. You go home alone.” 

  “I’m gonna say no to that option before I hear the rest.” He murmurs against your fingers still placed on his lips and you can’t help but laugh. A glimpse of your Frankie peeking through the cloud Marissa shrouded over the night. 

  “Option two…you can come inside and we can talk about what just happened. Only if you want.” You didn’t want to automatically assume that he did or did not want to talk about running into his ex and the conversation they had. 

  He shakes his head, taking a step toward you backing you up against your front door. “Behind door number three?” 

  “We can go inside…and do something else.” Your voice comes out a little shaky at his close proximity. 

  His dark eyes drinking you in as he leans down close to your ear. “You gonna tell me what something else means?” 

  “It means whatever you want.” You practically purr at him. If you were more attentive you’d see the switch. 

  His hands find your hips, turning you to face your door. “Are you sure you want me to have that much control baby?” 

  You nod as a slow building desire starts in your core and he doesn’t miss the way you fidget. Rocking slightly to relieve the ache between your thighs. 

  “I need words hermosa.” His tone demanding the more worked up he’s getting. 

  The pet names only serving the fan the flames from the previous night. A soft breathy ‘yes’ leaves your lips and before you can wonder how he knows which one he’s taking your keys and unlocking your door. His chest pressed against you walking you inside. 

  The door slams as Frankie shoves you against it, you can feel how hard he is pressing into your thigh. Your hands slide under his shirt and your mouth is on his neck. 

  He grabs your wrists in both hands as he tsks under his tongue. Slowly lowering them to your sides with a look on his face of your first and only warning. 

  He rids you of your shirt and his deft hands make quick work of the button on your jeans as he pulls them down along with your panties. Dropping to his knees along with them as he gently guides you out of them. 

  You’re shivering at the thought of him being so close, his face level with the slick dripping out of you as he picks up your thigh settling it over his shoulder. 

  “Fuck, you are soaking wet.” You gasp as his tongue slips through your folds. You moan as he circles your clit and the growl that reverberates through your core when you knock his hat to tug on his hair.  

  He’s practiced 

  His tongue dips inside you and the way you say his name he could commit to memory. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.” He rasps against your core as you feel that familiar cool tightening so fast. 

  “How long Frankie?” Your question comes out in short gasps as you drop your head against the door. 

  He can feel how close you are and his answer is on the tip of his tongue as you break. Your knees threateningly close to giving out until his large palm keeps you pressed upright. 

  His hand skates up your back, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as he flicks the clasp on your bra. 

  His mouth trailing hot kisses up your stomach, his tongue circling your nipple to stiff peaks as his hand caresses the other. His lips are on you, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip and you can taste yourself on him. Soft breathy moans as he drowns in you. 

  You feel exposed as he takes a step back to really look at you. Your body of work of art on display for him as you try to catch your breath. 

  He’s painfully hard and fully clothed. 

  “Bedroom.” It’s not a question as you brush by him. 

  He’s on your heels as you walk down the short hall to your bedroom. The sound of his shirt being tossed to the ground and the clink of his belt buckle as he strips down. 

  He spins you with one hand and a smirk on his face as your legs hit the bed. It’s slow the way he draws down his boxers and mixture of pride and concern at the look on your face when you see the size of him. 

  “Fuck me.” A little breathless and louder than you intended. The heat creeps up his neck and spreads to his face when he stalks towards you on the bed. 

  “You still want this?” 

  “Yes please.” 

  His cock twitches at the way you say please. The way you’re so ready to do whatever he says. His mind races to other things he thinks you’ll let him do. 

  He litters kisses up your body, you feel so good against his palms as he glides them over you, like he can never get enough of just touching you. Every bit of skin is exposed to the soft light in your room. 

  A soft curse under his breath has you pausing. “I don’t have a condom.” 

  “I’m on birth control, and it’s been awhile for me.” The nerves starting to build below the surface. 

  “Me too.” He says honestly and your hand wraps around his neck to pull him into a kiss. 

  His hands are everywhere and you can’t think straight, all you can focus on is him. How much you need him. How you finally feel needed by someone and not just a toy to be used. 

  He wants to do this differently. He wants to take his time with you. Savor you and all the sweet noises you make. He wills his hands to slow as you pant against his neck. Reveling in the way he’s already got you so worked up. You’re so sensitive to his touch, the way your nipples perk up at just the slightest touch. The goosebumps on your skin when he trails his lips over your stomach and down your thighs. 

You smell like vanilla mixed with him and he wants to bury himself in it, drown in it until he has no more room in his lungs. 

You can tell he’s taking his time with you, in a slow almost torturous way. His hands grip your thigh as he raises up, his face level with yours and his eyes are asking for permission or forgiveness you can’t tell the difference in this moment. 

You can feel his cock throb where it’s pressed against your stomach, precum leaking from the tip as you reach down to stroke him and he lets out a curse as he lets himself feel you for a moment. Your soft hand wrapped around him as you pump him slowly, deliberately. 

“Fuck.” He stills your hand. “I can’t let you keep doing that querida.” 

You giggle and it makes his heart swell. Even now how desperate you are for each other and still there’s a playfulness to you. Something he’s always wanted, not just sex but -this.

Your hands fall back beside your head as your hips chase him impatiently. You’re beautiful like this, laid out for him. If he were a more patient man he’d snap a photo for him to keep. His mind could never forget the image of you anyway. 

“Frankie.” You whine. “I need you.” 

He leans down over you, his lips pressed to yours as he lines himself up. He can feel you tense briefly as he sinks into you on a soft exhale. “You have me.” 

His hips start to move slowly as he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck and chest. The stretch of him is a lot at first, you whimper as he waits for you to relax into it. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands fisted in his hair as he steadily picks up the pace. 

It’s the only sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life. His name leaving your lips in short gasps as he pounds into you. Trying to pour every feeling of those words that are too soon to say yet he wants to so badly. The way you arch your back, your skin on his as tears spring in your eyes. 

“Frankie please.” 

“Please what baby.” His voice gravelly with desire because he already knows what you need. 

His hands work their way between your bodies as he circles your clit in swift motions. You didn’t think it possible to come this many times in one night. No one has ever cared to meet your needs the way Frankie is. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” 

“Yes, Frankie so close.” You pant out 

“Good girl, come for me and then I’m gonna fill you up.” 

He nips at your jaw as you spread your hands down the length of his back, pulling him closer to you. 

His filthy words  and the steady drag of him send you over the edge. Your whole body tenses and shudders as you cry out coming undone at his skilled touch. You’re clenching around him so tight he doesn’t know how he can even move. A few short thrusts and he’s spilling into you, moaning your name. 

It’s blinding the way he feels as he collapses into you, he’s trying to fill his lungs with air as your hands work through his hair and your lips meet his temple. You don’t seem in any rush to stop this feeling, his grounding weight on your body as you both lay tangled in each other. 

“Thank you.” He says sincerely. He chokes on the words he really wants to say. 

“I should be thanking you Frankie.” You brush his damp hair away from his face. “That was amazing.” You bite your lip not wanting to say more and ruin the moment. 

His lips meet yours in a chaste kiss before he rolls off you. Thankful for the light still on in your room so you can really get a good look at him. Your eyes flutter closed as you hear the sound of water running and the ringing of the towel. 

Your heart cracks open a little more at the thought of never having someone take care of you like this. When he returns to wipe you down and place a soft kiss to your forehead before climbing back in. Pulling you close to him as you bury your face in his chest. 

It’s not long before he can hear your light snores, he reaches over to flick off the lamp as he murmurs ‘I love you.’ To the crown of your head. 

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