#thank you so much for coming home darling!! you look gorgeous <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaightme · 7 months

Text

Both

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)

❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!

❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare

“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes.

Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today.

“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.

“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.

“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.”

You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention.

The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.

Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.

"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."

"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:

"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"

"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one.

You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror.

“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”

"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."

He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.

"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.

"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."

"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"

"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."

"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it."

You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.

“Y/N…”

“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.

“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.

As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming.

Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.

It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.

It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.

Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.

“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”

This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.

“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.

“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.

“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”

“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.

“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.

“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”

Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.

“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.

“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:

“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.

“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”

“I…”

“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”

“Park Seonghwa-”

“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”

“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.

“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:

“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering.

“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”

A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.

“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures.

“Now, what would be the fun in that?”

“Come on… Y/N, I-”

“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.

“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.

“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.

“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you.

“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.

“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”

Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.

And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.

---

The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.

He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture.

As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”

Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you.

“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk.

You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.

Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.

“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”

As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.

“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back.

Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise.

“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.

“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.

“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses.

Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.

“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.

The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.

One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.

Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.

“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.

You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.

“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.”

“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:

“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.

“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.

“Baby you’re doing too-”

“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace.

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile.

“I love you too.”

“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.

“Oh stop it…”

“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”

“Can’t have that happening.”

You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.

Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.

Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together.

The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again.

Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.

He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.

He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different.

You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece.

“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.

Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this.

“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you.

You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.

“H-hwa-”

“Mm?”

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.

You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.

“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears.

“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart.

His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.

“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”

“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.

Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you.

When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”

He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only.

“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.

“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”

“Want me to join?”

“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”

“Ah, of course, at your service-”

“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet.

“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”

“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.

Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new.

“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”

❤️‍🔥 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? please consider reblogging. thank you

865 notes · View notes

l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

Older!pervy!boyfriend!price was sooo vfhdhshsg. I loved it.

But he would probably 100% get you pregnant. And whisk you awy from your parents.

god DAMN you anons are gonna kill me you just keep coming up with better and better ideas (☆ω☆) also uwu thank you anon im glad you liked it :3 <<333

obviously, you can't blame the man for wanting kids. plenty of people do, plenty of people don't, and there's nothing wrong with either. so when he watches you coo at a baby that you pass by while out walking together, you shouldn't be surprised that as soon as you're back home john is pressing your legs into your chest to dig his cock that much deeper into you.

he's like a man possessed; you'll end up a babbling mess, weakly pushing at his chest and scratching at his arms, trying desperately to form the words to ask him for a break. john bends down to kiss your drool-covered lips and wipe away the tears of overstimulation from your cheeks. he murmurs soothingly that you're doing so good, that you'll look so beautiful with his baby, that he'll take such good care of everything, such good care of you.

john's hips slow their assault on yours and melt into a near-hypnotizing rock back and forth as a way of giving you a break. "already so gorgeous, how am i gonna handle you carrying my child, hm? y'think you're already pregnant, darling? mm, i know you're tired, i know sweetheart, we just gotta make sure. jus' one more, promise, bein' such a good girl f'me."

of course it's not "just one more". never mind the fact that he's in his late thirties and most men his age would have probably pulled several muscles by now. never mind the fact that he's cumming in you, buried as deep as he possibly can be inside you for the fourth time that night. none of that matters because the image of your belly round and your tits swollen and heavy with milk, you asking him for help because they're just so sore makes him feel drunk.

and sure enough, a couple weeks later when your period is late, the pregnancy test you take with a shaking leg comes up positive. john nearly cries from happiness when you tell him; he's over the moon, pretty much worshipping you, raining kisses all over your face and neck and hugging you and promising you everything you'd ever want and need. your parents don't take it nearly as well, so you end up moving in with him, to his even greater delight (he's already setting up the nursery by the time you manage to get all your stuff out of your old room).

john damn near makes the call to take a leave of absence before you even take the test, no doubt about it. he makes good on his promises and gets you everything you even mention you're thinking about (sometimes you think he's psychic because he'll get stuff you like before you even say anything about it). you'll never have to lift a finger. he claims it's so you don't hurt the baby, but he's literally taking plates out of your hands to put back in the cupboards when you're still in your first trimester.

when you start showing, john just goes fucking crazy. of course he restrains himself, but thank god your hormones are making you more horny too because the physical proof of you growing his child, your belly swelling and your breasts steadily growing heavier makes him feel like a teenager discovering porn again, constantly fucking horny for you.

tl;dr, john price will breed you literally as soon as you even give a hint of wanting/liking kids

#— ask!#— lilly writes! ♡#this turned into a lot more than i intended lol #this is so good anon tysm for feeding me #john price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price x you #john price smut #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod smut

1K notes · View notes

closets-closet · 5 months

Note

THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖

141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that

IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK

I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.

“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”

“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”

“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.

“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.

“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.

It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.

I should be his wife *SIGH*

245 notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 2 years

Text

birthdays with harry

this was inspired by @sirtommyholland’s four years of birthdays blurb ! one of my fave blurbs ever <3 i hope you like this

happy birthday harry, i love you

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2011 - 17th birthday

"Happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!"

Harry smiled as everyone around him sang, the room full of the people he loved: his mom, stepdad, sister, bandmates that he loved like his brothers, friends from school and the girl who he was head over heels for.

His best friend and now his girlfriend.

"Make a wish, bro!" Niall cheered and ruffled Harry's curls for a second.

"All of my wishes are coming true right now." Harry said and the entire room awed, making him blush before blowing his candles.

After the cake was cut and everyone spread around Harry's childhood home, he looked for his girlfriend, finding her in the kitchen helping his mum put away some dishes.

"YN, would you go out with me for a minute?" Harry asked, still shy to call her pet names in front of his mum even tho Anne was ecstatic over the fact that Harry was dating the girl she adored like a daughter.

"Sure, let me just finish up these dishes."

"Oh don´t worry about it sweetie, I can handle them myself." Anne told her with a small smile and motioned then to go.

Once they were outside and away from the chatter and laughter, Harry stood in front of her and grabbed her hands.

"You know, I'm so happy you agreed to be my girlfriend." Harry shyly told her, still new to the feeling.

"And I'm so happy you asked me to be your girlfriend." YN said with the same shy smile on her face.

"No matter how big the band becomes, you'll always be my number one girl, I'll never forget about you." Harry told her sincerely, knowing it was one of YN's biggest insecurities.

Harry was just turning 17, but he made a promise that would last forever.

2015 - 21st birthday

"This party is insane!" Niall said as they entered the club where Harry's birthday party was taking place, the room full of celebrities and close friends.

"Damn, Jeff really went all out with this," Harry held his girlfriend's hand, keeping her close, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"I'm not drinking tonight."

"Why? It's my birthday, baby." Harry grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

"Exactly, and I want you to enjoy it. So no drinking for me so you can go all out." YN kissed his cheek softly, his long hair getting in the way and tickling her face a bit.

"I don't even want to drink that much tonight darling, don't want to have a killer handover tomorrow."

However, that statement was thrown out the window as Harry chugged down his 7th tequila shot of the night.

"Baby! Come up here!" Harry yelled, standing on top of the bar with Jeff's arm around his shoulder.

"Harry, get down, how did you even climb up there?"

"Tequila gives me special powers!" He started jumping up and down and that was her cue to get him down the bar with Glenne's help.

"My love! I've missed you." Harry obnoxiously wrapped his arms around her in a hug, placing sloppy kisses on her neck.

"Harry, you're hammered!" YN grabbed his face to look at him, his eyes giving away his drunken state.

"I know!" he let out a loud laugh, "I have an idea!"

And before YN could stop him, the music was going down and he had a microphone on his hand.

"Hello! Hello! Can everybody hear me?" Harry said into the mic, making everyone turn to look at him, "Sorry to interrupt your partying, I just wanted to thank my amazing friend Jeff for throwing this party for me."

At the mention of his name, Jeff let out a whistle and cheer, making Harry laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

"And I would also love to thank my incredible, stunning, gorgeous girlfriend YN for... just being hot and charming," he drunkenly spoke into the mic again, making YN blush and hide her face in her hands, "You know, I'm going to propose that girl one day! I will!

The entire room erupted in cheers and claps, and years later, the drunken promise he made on his 21st birthday became true.

2019 - 25th birthday

"Happy birthday, baby." Her soft voice made its way to Harry's ears, waking him up from his slumber and instantly smiling at the feeling of her lips pressing kisses to his jaw.

"Thank you, my love." He mumbled sleepily, tightening his arms around her and dropping his head to lean his forehead against hers.

After YN gave Harry his "traditional birthday shag", they headed downstairs to cook some breakfast before starting Harry's big day.

"How do you feel about being 25?" YN said as she took out the ingredients to cook him some pancakes, "Any expectations for today?"

"I just know it'll be my best birthday yet," he smiled softly as he watched her move around the kitchen, "You know, my first birthday as an engaged man, soon to be husband."

YN couldn't help but smile at the sound of that, still not quite used to the fact that they would be husband and wife soon.

"Who would've thought my high school boyfriend would become my husband." YN turned around to face him, meting his soft green eyes instantly.

"I always knew it," he shrugged before continuing, "I knew you were the one for me from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

Getting closer to him, YN grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I love you so much, baby. Thank you for letting me spend another birthday with you." she kissed him again her smile mirroring Harry's when they pulled away.

"This is just the beginning of the rest of our lives, darling."

And as Harry stood in his kitchen with his fianceé wrapped around his arms, he knew his 25 was going to be one to remeber.

2023 - 29th birthday

Harry found himself in the same position he was during his 17th birthday, in a room full of people he loved while the sang happy birthday to him.

But he wasn't on his childhood home anymore, he was backstage in Acrisure Arena surrounded by his tour crew, bandmates, managers, family members and his beloved wife.

"Blow the candles and make a wish!" Sarah said after they were done singing to him, and the words naturally came out of Harry's mouth.

"All of my wishes are coming true right now."

"Awe! You're all grown up now mate." Jeff hugged Harry tightly, making everyone in the room look at them fondly.

"Okay Azoff, that's enough, I need to give him his present now." YN said as he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him out of the room.

"Make sure to be quiet! The walls are thin around here." Lambert joked making the group laugh, and YN only rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger to him before they were out of the room.

"Sooo, you're going to give me my present now?" Harry teased as they walked down the corridor to his dressing room.

"Not that kind of present, you menace," YN turned to look at him quickly as she opened the door to his dressing room, "That one is the reserved for when we're alone in our hotel room."

"Don't tease me, baby. I have a show in two hours." Harry said with a serious tone, making YN laugh as she approached the tote bag where she was keeping his gift, taking the box out and placing it on his hands.

"Okay, open it." YN took a step back and clasped her hands together, her nerves kicking in.

"Told you you didn't need to get me anything," he said as he opened the box, not looking inside of it yet, "I would've been more than satisfied with a 29 minute long blowj-"

"Just look at it!" YN cut him off before he could finish his sentence, making him laugh and turn his gaze to the box in his hands.

And when he realized what was inside, he froze at his spot and his eyes got instantly tearful.

"YN wha-" he stopped himself as his voice began shaking, "Is this...? I mean are you...?"

"I'm pregnant, Harry." She simply said, smile wide on her face and tearful eyes that matched his.

"Fuck," Harry finally took the pregnancy test out of the box and gave it a proper look, noticing the unmistakable two lines that indicating that his wife was expecting his child, "Fuck YN, you're pregnant, we're going to be parents."

"We are, baby." YN couldn't keep her cool anymore as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and making him wrap his around her waist, both of them letting out happy tears.

And in that moment, Harry knew that becoming a dad was the best way to end his twenties.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi i @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles fake social media #harry styles story #harrysfolklore #harry styles masterlist #1k #hsfolklore archive #2k

2K notes · View notes

da-rulah · 4 months

Text

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 7]

Summary: Mary is in danger, walking into the lion's den with nothing but a pocket knife. Forrest is on his way, but will it be too late…?

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, themes of abandonment, difficult childhood, threat, violence, blood

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Ladies, gents and enby darlings, I need to draw your attention to this stunning artwork I commissioned of Mary from the unbelievably talented @ghuleh-draws... I cannot believe how gorgeous he is and I could talk about it for hours. Please, go and show her and the art some love. Hopefully it might heal some of the trauma I've caused with both last chapter and this one... And once again, a big thank you to @angellayercake & @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading this!

Mary’s arms ached, and yet, he continued with his work. Mr. Rogers had started to lose some of his dexterity, his arthritic hands no longer able to do as much as they used to and so, Mary’s workload had as good as doubled. Furniture in need of a new lease of life had begun to pile up in the workshop, and school prevented him from making the dent in the work he needed to. Late evenings were becoming later and later, and yes, Mary’s grades had started to suffer.

But it was becoming impossible to ignore the financial situation he found himself in, and – even at sixteen years old – the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. There was no choice here. If he wanted to move himself and his mother into a real home and out of the scummy little motel on the outskirts of town, they had found themselves in, he had to do what he had to do; with very little time to be the kid he still was...

He’d stopped glancing at the clock on the wall of the workshop long ago, well aware midnight had come and gone. It wasn’t the ideal place to be on a Friday night, when all his friends were out enjoying their freedom. Still, he continued to sand down the wood of the dresser he was working on tonight despite the aching. If he could just get the sanding and the first layer of staining done tonight, it would be dry by the time he came back into the workshop on Sunday and he could spend at least Saturday evening with his friends like he’d planned. If one night a week was all the free time Mary would get, he’d just have to be grateful for that.

Mary turned off the sander and swiped his hand across the top of the dresser, feeling how smooth it now was to the touch – no ridges, no scratches and totally even. Mr Rogers himself couldn’t do a better job, he was sure of it. And so, he pulled his dust mask from his face, letting it hang beneath his chin as he put the sander away and reached for the brushes and varnish.

As he did, his phone began to vibrate on the tool bench, violently rattling against the metal. He stared at it for a moment, part of him wanting to ignore it and continue his work. Another 45 minutes or so, and he could head back to the motel and get some rest. But it vibrated incessantly, until he had no choice but to put down the brush and tin in his hand with a loud thud and answer the damn thing.

“Yeah?” he spoke into the receiver, his tone dejected. He knew who was calling at this hour. He always knew.

“Yeah, hey kid. Me again. Look, I’m sorry but you’re gonna have to come and get her. I’ve cut her off but she won’t go.” That voice belonged to Manny, the bartender at Ace’s Taproom. He sounded as exhausted as Mary did.

Mary sighed into the phone, rubbing at his brow as if it would relieve the pressure that had built there.

“Can you just... I don’t know, can it wait an hour?” Just enough time to get this layer of varnish done... Then he could still head out tomorrow night, his plans intact.

“She’s already causing a bit of a scene, kid. The sooner you can get here, the better.” His tone was apologetic – even Manny knew this burden was too much for a kid to take. But who else was there?

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. Thanks, Manny,” he relented, already untying the tool belt from around his hips with his free hand.

“I’m sorry, man. I’ll see ya soon,” Manny consoled just before he hung up. Mary dropped his phone back onto the bench with a loud slam, running his dusty fingers over his face and taking a deep, steadying breath. This was happening too often, almost every damn night. It had to stop, but what else could he do? He’d just have to keep saving her.

When Mary pulled into the parking lot in Mr Rogers’ old van that he had kindly gifted him – for the sole purpose of collecting and delivering the pieces of furniture they worked on at the shop, since he could no longer lift them in his old age – he took a second to himself, collecting his thoughts and preparing himself for a confrontation he knew was bound to happen.

He got out, heading towards the sign that flickered in neon red in the shape of an ace of spades. At this hour, there were very few people on the streets, much less left in the old taproom but still, he could feel the shame creeping in.

Inside, he spotted her immediately, slouched over the bar on her usual stool nursing an empty glass with an incredibly pale drop of amber liquid in, as if the ice that had inhabited the last dregs of her scotch had melted and watered it down. Manny stood at the other end of the bar, talking to one of the other regulars but he shot Mary a sad yet appreciative smile across the room. Mary just lifted his hand in an almost-wave, and headed over to the bar.

“Ma?” he called out gently. She barely stirred, her head laying on her arm like she was asleep. He shook her gently, pushing her hair from her face. “Ma, come on. Let’s go.” He pulled her shoulders into an upright position, her head lolling as she came to.

“N-no, I’m not done yet, baby,” she slurred, her tongue as drunk as her mind.

“Yeah you are, they’re shutting up soon. We gotta get home,” he encouraged, trying to help her down from the bar stool. Her head gained its bearings, and she caught sight of Manny at the other end of the bar, as well as the other patron, watching the saddest scene unfold in front of them both.

“Th-this prick... Said he wouldn’t serve me no more,” she rambled, pointing at Manny with an arm too weak to stay elevated. “What you starin’ at, huh?”

“Ma, come on... Let’s just go, yeah?” Mary’s cheeks were heating up with embarrassment.

“Don’t need your pity, dickhead!” she shouted, still slurring as if her tongue were too big for her mouth.

“Go home,” he told her firmly, trying not to rise to her insults. She flipped him off, while Mary wrapped her other arm around his shoulders and hoisted her to her feet, slowly taking her outside.

As soon as the door shut behind them, his mum pushed Mary from under her and tried to stand on her own two feet, stumbling a little in the process. But she found her footing, while Mary stayed close enough to catch her if she did fall.

“Idiot boy, ruining my fun,” she mumbled. That was like a knife to the chest...

“Either me or the cops, Ma,” he sighed. “Let’s just get home.”

“Home? HA!” she hollered, “Where’s that then?” Mary just rolled his eyes, taking her arm gently and guiding her back in the direction of the van. Her walking reminded him of a newborn foal, so unsteady as she took one step at a time and yet she tried to get him off her the whole way, unwilling to admit she needed help.

“Ma, this has gotta stop. This ain’t healthy...” he began, starting a losing battle. She stopped and slapped her hands down by her sides.

“Don’t start with me, Mary,” she warned, but he was determined.

“You’re drinking our savings, Ma! How are we ever gonna get outta that motel when you’re spending it faster than I can make it?” He raised his voice, his frustration evident.

“You said you were working overtime!” she argued, as if that were any real argument at all. Mary was a 16 year old boy; his only job should be a few hours a week at most, if at all. Not every hour he could squeeze in, and certainly not to pay for her alcoholism.

“Yeah, to get us a new place! But I can’t make enough if you’re just gonna spend it. Do I have to stop giving you money for you to stop? That’s for groceries, Ma. For shit you need!”

“Don’t you curse at your mother, boy...” she practically growled.

“Maybe if you acted like my mother-” It was a low blow, but not entirely unwarranted. His mother interrupted him with a sharp slap to his cheek, the suddenness stunning Mary into silence. His cheek stung, but his heart even more so. She’d never raised a hand to him before.

“M-Mary...” she stuttered, her eyes beginning to fill with tears as the realisation sank in that she’d just slapped her son. Her little boy... Mary took a step back as she reached for him, letting her stumble and regain her balance again. “I’m sorry...” She tried to grab at him, to hold him and stroke his hair and desperately apologise but he shoved her off, and she stumbled to the ground in a heap.

“I’m done. Get yourself home, Ma.” He turned quickly back to his van, his hands shaking with emotion he tried to hold back. His keys jangled in his hands as he unlocked the door with the press of a button, and he climbed into the seat with a slam of the door.

His cheek still stung with the force of her slap, his eyes welling up as he clenched his jaw so tight his teeth could have splintered. He squeezed his eyes shut and hit his head back against the plush cushion of the headrest several times as he slapped at the edge of the steering wheel, releasing all of his hurt, his anger in an outburst he contained to the cabin of the van now that he was alone.

Taking some deep breaths, he calmed himself to a point where he could wipe the fresh tears on his cheeks and shoved his keys into the ignition. But he paused before he turned them, the engine staying dormant, and glanced down into his wing mirror only to see his mother still in a heap on the floor. Her shoulders shook violently, her sobs audible even from here in the cab. His eyes lingered there, unable to tear them away as his chest ached. She looked so helpless, so utterly destroyed by what she’d done but more so, what had been done to her...

“God fucking damnit,” Mary muttered, climbing back out of the van and walking back over to her with caution. Of course he did... How could he leave her? His own mother, lying on the cold tarmac of a parking lot, in this state? Mary was all she had now, their shitty little apartment snatched from them, abandoned once again by anyone and everyone. For years it had always been Mary and her, against the world – that couldn’t change now, when he was all she had left.

Without a word, he lifted her again, her sobs quietening when she felt his hands under her arms and realised he’d come back for her. Her expression changed from anguish to surprise with an essence of gratitude and apology, allowing her broken son to pick up the pieces as he helped her back into the van. He took great care with every move, gently letting her get comfortable as he leaned over to strap the seatbelt across her, laying her head against the seat while she sobbed silently and hiccupped from time to time.

As he drove her home, she reached for the radio to flick it on, getting comfortable in the seat and using the sound to try and distract from the situation the pair of them found themselves in. Mary stayed quiet the whole time, keeping a watchful eye on his mother as she seemed to drift between sleep and reality now she was bundled into a warm and comfy seat.

“You used to tell me... I would hear you on there someday,” she slurred as they got closer to the edge of town, pointing weakly at the radio with a fond but weary smile. “My boy, ‘the rock star’,” she giggled. Mary looked ahead at the road, trying not to entertain the drunk rambles nor the dreams he’d squashed for himself with the weight of his responsibility. His one and only goal right now was to get them back on their feet – and even that felt unattainable.

Back at the motel, he watched his mother struggle with her dexterity to fit the key into their room door. Eventually, he gently took the keys from her and let them both inside, guiding her as had become their routine. He let her sit on the bed – the one they now had to share under the circumstances – and crouched at her feet to take her shoes off for her, placing them one by one on the floor.

He helped her take off her jacket, laying her down gently on the pillow while she curled in on herself in a foetal position. Mary headed into the bathroom with an empty glass, filling it with tap water and bringing it back out to his mother’s side of the bed. He crouched down next to her, urging her to drink. She did, small sips at a time.

“Ma, please... you gotta get better. We need to get outta here,” he said softly.

“I was getting better...” she sniffled.

“I know, Ma. You can get better again,” he encouraged, but there was a small part of him that worried she never would. “You just gotta move on from-”

“Stop,” she begged. “I don’t wanna hear it...” But Mary persisted. She had to hear him.

“You can’t let this shit stop you. You’re stronger than that. We’ve been through worse,” he insisted. Her head shot up from the pillow, her gaze stoney and angry.

“You have no idea, Mary... What it’s like to have the world promised to you and then ripped out from under you.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“You’re worth a lot more than that fuckin-”

“Enough!” she yelled, rolling over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. We could have had everything, if you had just...”

“Me?” Mary interrupted, instantly offended at her accusation. “What the fuck did I do?”

“Your attitude, Mary,” she shot her glare back at him. “Always fucking attitude.”

There was no chance she was blaming him for all this... This was neither his, nor his mother’s fault. There was someone to blame, but in their absence the only person close enough to his mother was Mary, and the only person she could lash out at was him. She couldn’t possibly mean what she was saying, and yet, it still stung all the same.

“Go to sleep,” he told her, his voice hardened and stern as if he were the adult, and she the child. “You’re just talking pure shit now. It ain’t my fault he lied to you.”

“He didn’t lie-”

“He did, Ma. He lied to you, and everyone else. He’s a piece of shit like everyone else in this washed up town!” Mary raised his voice, his anger at every injustice he faced from everyone around him mounting higher and higher. “I’m fucking sick of it, here! I wanna get us out, but you’re too busy drinking every dime I fucking make to notice that I’m fucking drowning!”

Mary stood up suddenly, smacking at the shitty motel phone on the dresser beside the bed. His mother sat up, steadying herself from the headrush and the room spinning around her.

“I’m doing my best, Mary!” she yelled.

“Are you? Cause your best was getting clean eight months ago. Your best was no alcohol, getting yourself a job, being a normal fucking Mom! But now you’re back here, and it’s me who’s gotta look after you!”

“I-I... I have an addiction, it’s not that easy-”

“You’re not even trying! You’ve fucking given up, and why? Just ‘cause some fuckhead promised you the world with a cherry on top and it turns out, he was lying like every other dickhead?” Mary was going too far, but with a lack of a proper outlet, being forced to grow up quickly and fend for the both of them, every bottled up thought and emotion was spilling from him without restriction.

His mother sat on the bed, watching her son thread his fingers through his hair in frustration and take some deep breaths to try and steady him – but they weren’t working.

“Y’know what? Fuck this. You call me when you decide to be a mother again.”

And with that, Mary grabbed his keys and stormed out of the motel room, slamming the door with so much force that the cheap painting on the wall fell and shattered behind him.

Despite picking up his keys, he bypassed the van and kept walking, his legs taking him further into town without a destination in mind. He’d roam aimlessly if he needed to, but he needed to let off some damn steam, to expel some of this fucking rage that he’d imprisoned for too long.

As he went, he found himself kicking over trashcans, the metal rattling along the sidewalk. He used his keys to scratch the sides of cars he stomped past – the expensive ones, mostly. The ones owned by people in this town with too much money, greedy fat cats with more of it than sense. On his keys, he had a swiss army knife keychain, and one particular car – a very expensive black SUV – he shoved the blade attachment into the tyre deep enough that it deflated, high pitched whistle getting quieter and quieter as he walked further into town.

By the time he was in the town centre, he was starting to see a few people out and about, shoving shoulder to shoulder into them with a look of pure thunder on his face. Most people simply yelled out at him to watch where he was going, or called him a punk or other variations of ‘delinquent’.

‘Yeah’, Mary thought, ‘that’s what you all fucking think of me’. A town full of people who only knew him for his namesake – a deadbeat father and a drunken mother. Why wouldn’t Mary follow suit? If people thought that of him already, maybe he should just live up to the expectations; become the stereotype and stop giving a shit about anyone and everyone around him.

Why should he try anymore?

But he shoved at the wrong shoulder outside a pool hall, two kids Mary knew as seniors from his high school stood outside with cigarettes in one hand and beer bottles gained with fake IDs in another.

Corbin and Asher.

“Hey! Hey, fuckface!” Mary heard from behind him. He kept walking, too angry to give a fuck. But they followed. “Mary fuckin’ Goore, huh? You piece of shit, think you can slam into me and walk the fuck away?”

Mary didn’t even look back, but they caught up...

Corbin grabbed the back of his jacket and slammed him face first up against the shutters of a closed store, the metal rattling under the force. In an instant, he spun Mary around, slamming him again and holding him there.

“You got a problem, kid?” he asked, cocky and ready for a fight. Mary struggled against his hold, trying to shove at his arms and kick at his shins.

“Get the fuck off me, man,” he yelled. “You were in the way.” Corbin laughed condescendingly, looking back at Asher who stood there with both of their beers in his hands smirking the whole time.

“This kid thinks he owns the sidewalk, Ash. From what I’ve heard, he belongs in the fucking gutter...” Corbin landed a fist to Mary’s gut, Mary folding up like a ball of paper as he coughed. “Maybe we’ll put him there.”

He dragged Mary by his jacket and threw him to the ground, watching him roll around in pain until he tried to get up. Corbin raised his foot as if he were about to stomp on him, but Mary rolled to the side just in time to avoid it and instead reached out and pulled on his ankle, toppling him to the ground with a loud thud too.

Corbin was older, heavier, but Mary was younger and nimble – quickly he straddled Corbin and started throwing punches, every ounce of anger inside him forcing his fists into Corbin’s face who was yelling at Asher to do something, to stop standing around like a fucking moron and get this ‘little shit’ off him before he ‘beat the crap outta him’.

Before Asher could get close, Mary was being dragged off Corbin by someone else – someone in blue. Before he knew it he was being shoved against the hood of a car, his wrists clamped together in cold metal rings as the cop who’d stumbled on the scene slapped the handcuffs on him. His partner restrained Corbin just the same, slamming him on the other side of the hood.

One of them called for another car, unwilling to shove both Mary and Corbin into the back of the same cop car lest they kill each other on their way to the station, but Mary was thrown in first, and taken in for processing.

“Mary Goore, huh?” was the welcome he got when escorted inside by the Chief, sat behind the processing desk on a late shift. “Was only a matter of time,” he scoffed. Mary’s blood boiled at that. A few minutes later, as Mary was getting processed, another cop rolled in with Corbin in handcuffs. Immediately, Mary tried to lunge towards him, both of them hurling insults at each other while restrained.

“Pembrook, get this kid in a fuckin’ cell to cool off!” the Chief yelled at the officer restraining Mary, who did as instructed and hauled him off to a solitary cell.

“No, no wait! I get a phone call!” Mary said, running back up to the locked door as the officer shut it behind him.

“You’ll get your phone call when you calm down, kid,” the officer shouted back through the door. It was at least another hour before Mary got his phone call...

Not that it did him any good. He tried both his mother’s cell, and their motel phone – no answer. Perhaps he’d fucked up the phone when he smacked it off the side table, but still, his mother wasn’t answering her cell, probably passed out for the night.

Mary was left alone, sat in a solitary cell with fresh bruises and cuts, until the sun had long since risen. He curled up on the bench at the back of the cell, cold and metal and uncomfortable, and barely got a wink of sleep.

“Goore, let’s go,” he heard through the hatch in the door at God knows what time. He rolled over and sat upright, wiping the exhaustion from his face as the officer – a new one, only having just started his shift – opened the cell door. Behind him, was perhaps the only person Mary could really depend on at all.

Forrest.

“You can collect your things from the registration desk. Don’t find yourself back here again, kid. You got lucky, this time...”

Mary just nodded meekly as the officer turned and walked off, the door wide open and Forrest stood there looking at him with an expression of nothing but worry.

“Corbin got out last night, heard you were still in here. Got my parents to pull some strings,” he explained with a shrug. “Shit, Mare, you alright?”

Forrest stepped into the cell and placed his hands on Mary’s shoulders, inspecting him. Mary just nodded again, both too exhausted and too somber to form actual words.

“I’m gonna kick Corbin’s fuckin’ ass for this,” he grumbled. “I’ll set his eyebrows on fire in chem. He’s the worst fuckin’ lab partner anyway.” Mary huffed out a barely-there laugh at that, his shoulders shaking in Forrest’s hands.

Forrest was a senior, like Corbin and Asher. He knew they had a reputation, always getting into shit like this but he never thought he’d see Mary heading down the same path. He was the only one who saw what Mary went through, the work he put in at the workshop, the nights he spent nursing his alcoholic mother. He’d taken him under his wing a little, made him one of the gang and tried to offer him some respite from the slurry of shit he found himself in.

Getting the money from his parents to bail Mary out wasn’t difficult; they threw money at him like it was bird seed on the steps of a cathedral, but it was for that reason he knew loneliness just as much as Mary. On opposite ends of the spectrum financially but somehow, they shared a common ground in just how shitty their relationships with their parents were.

It shouldn’t have been him who got Mary out of here. It didn’t matter to him who started the damn fight or why; Mary had been through enough as it was, and an outburst like this was simply a ticking time bomb. What bothered Forrest more than anything, was knowing it had to be him walking him out of that police station and not the one person Mary loved most in this world, the one who was supposed to love, protect and care for him.

This wasn’t the last time he would collect Mary from a cell; there were more outbursts to come, more frustrations and stupid mistakes but if he had to, Forrest would be there for them all. He’d never abandon this kid who cared so deeply about people and the injustices they would face. Mary could have his rebellious phase, get it out of his system – hell, Forrest certainly did, and he wasn’t sure he was even out of it yet. But he needed someone to lean on, someone to reign him in when he started to go too far.

That night was Mary’s rock bottom, but Forrest jumped down into the pit with him, armed with ropes and twigs, ready to build a ladder to get them both out.

You were pacing outside the convenience store, desperately calling Forrest with your groceries in one hand, cell phone pressed tightly to your ear in the other. He didn’t pick up the first time, probably ignoring a number he didn’t know but you were getting more and more desperate. The second time you dialled, he picked up after a few rings.

“Yello?” he answered, chipper and riding off the high of a show well played.

“Forrest?! Oh my god, thank fuck for that. Listen, it’s me... Mary gave me your number,” you rushed out, barely intelligible at the speed you spoke.

“Duchess?” he questioned, using the nickname the boys had seemed to settle on when they realised you weren’t going to castrate Jed for creating it. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Mary’s... I don’t know, he said to call you! I’m at the store, he told me not to come back. Something’s wrong, Forrest... He said it wasn’t safe?” you panicked.

“Shit...” he muttered. You heard scrambling on the end of the line, like he was getting up and grabbing a few things around him and stuffing them into a backpack. “Listen to me, you don’t go back to that apartment, okay? I’ll be there soon, one of us will call you when it’s safe. Just stay there.”

“Forrest what’s going on?” Your voice had raised an octave in pitch, your cheeks burning from holding back tears.

“Those guys at the bar... They know him, they’ve hated him for years and they threatened him. He just needs some back up, it’ll be alright. Just stay, okay? Promise me.”

You wanted to promise that, but how could you stay there and not try to help Mary? If those guys had turned up at his apartment, he was outnumbered and if nothing else you could act as a distraction. You stayed quiet for a beat too long, and Forrest stopped rustling about his apartment needing to hear confirmation. He couldn’t be worrying about you too when his best friend was in danger.

“Duchess?” he yelled into the phone.

“Y-yeah, yeah... Sorry. I’ll stay,” you told him, still unsure if you were telling the truth.

“Good, just wait for the call. He’ll be fine,” he assured, but the panic in his voice betrayed him too. He hung up without another word, leaving you stood in the street in the early hours of the morning, absolutely petrified for your boyfriend...

Could you really stay put when he was just a few blocks away? When there was potentially something you could do to help him? You supposed you’d just have to...

The door creaked as it slowly swung open, betraying Mary right from the start. If someone was in his apartment still, they’d have heard that... No doubt about it. And so, his grip on the swiss army knife tightened, and the steps he took became slower, steadier so he’d be able to plant his feet should he be ambushed.

Stepping into his apartment, it was still dark. No lights had been turned on, just the orange glow from the street lamps outside streaming in through the windows. He listened out for any sign of movement, but nothing. To his left, nobody in the kitchen... But things were out of place, to put it lightly. Drawers hung open, cupboard doors almost ripped from their hinges. Cutlery, food and crockery lay strewn about the floor and countertops, like it had been ransacked.

Mary proceeded with caution, noticing that the floor of his apartment was covered in his things... Records, clothes, blankets and pillows; even his tatty little guitar was on the ground in the middle of the floor, the neck broken and strings snapped. He wasn’t sure whether to feel rage or despair, but both hit him like a freight train.

Slowly, he stepped a little further to peer around the corner that led to the bedroom and bathroom to his right, and then to his left, around the partition between the kitchen and living space. That’s when he noticed.

A figure, sat on his couch with their back to him. He knew who it was immediately.

Mary planted his feet, readjusting his grip on the blade in his hand. He was preparing himself for any sudden movement, every single one of his senses heightened. Should he be ambushed from another direction, he was ready.

“Where is she?” The shadow asked, their voice low and eerily calm. Mary stood his ground; he was in no mood for games.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” he asked, ignoring their question. The figure straightened up where they sat, no longer hunching forwards as they studied something on the coffee table. They took a deep breath, before answering with another question.

“Where... is my daughter?” The shadow turned their head towards where Mary stood, between the outer wall of his bathroom and the entryway to his kitchen. The street lighting gave just enough of itself to illuminate the stark features of the man in front of him, the hardened glare pointed his way.

The Mayor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mary lied, without much conviction at all but he already knew there was no point. But he wasn’t giving him any information. He could go fuck himself.

The Mayor cracked a grin; a sadistic little grin, as if he were some kind of comic book villain spoiling for a fight. “Now I know that ain’t true, so you’re gonna tell me where she is, I’m gonna go get her, and I’m gonna deal with you later.”

“I don't know where she is,” Mary spat, his resentment and hatred for this snake barely contained.

The Mayor sighed dramatically, slapping his hands to his knees and standing up. He turned towards Mary then, folding his arms across his chest. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, top button undone now he was technically off the clock. But he still wore his expensive suit, save for tie and blazer, as if it would intimidate Mary somehow.

“Should have expected this from you, Mary,” he chuckled, “Defiance. Attitude. Even coming in here with a damn weapon.” He nodded towards the swiss army knife in Mary’s ever tightening grip.

“Someone broke into my apartment. Gotta defend myself,” he stated plainly.

“Nah,” the Mayor scoffed, “it was only a matter of time before you got yourself in trouble again. Cops of this town were always too good to you, lettin’ you off too easy.”

As if Mary had ever done anything to hurt anybody... Sure he’d been picked up a handful of times for graffiti, or destruction of public property, that one fight with Corbin and Asher – which technically, he didn’t start... But Mary stayed quiet, staring at the threat in front of him just waiting for him to try something.

“You know,” he started, turning back to the coffee table, “maybe I’m forgetting my manners, huh? Maybe we should catch up first?” He bent down, picking something up from the table and turning back. In his hands, was the photo frame Mary kept on his windowsill...

The Mayor looked down at it, studying it with a smirk. “She always was a looker, huh? How’s she doing these days?”

Mary saw red, desperately fighting every instinct in his body that wanted nothing more than to tear into this vile man, rip him limb from limb and cast him to the wolves. His already injured knuckles turned white, the wounds splitting back open as his fists balled up tighter, the handle of the blade in his right hand digging painfully into his palm. But he stayed grounded. He would not make the first move.

“Get the fuck outta my apartment,” Mary warned. The Mayor was testing his patience, and it had already snapped once tonight.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me where my daughter is.” His smirk dropped, along with the frame in his hands. He disregarded it without a care in the world, letting the glass crack as it hit the ground with a thud. Mary winced at the sound.

“Wouldn’t tell you if I knew,” he lied. He was adamant he would never tell him where you were, never give you up if he beat him into a pile of broken bones. You’d been free of him for less than a week, but already you’d come out of your shell so much, found yourself. How could he ever put you back in the box they’d kept you in all those years?

“Do you think you’re good for my daughter, hm?” the Mayor took a step closer, “You think she’d want someone like you?”

Mary ignored him. He had to. This was just a manipulation tactic, something to throw him off and degrade him like everybody always had.

“You’re the scum of this town, Goore. Everybody knows it.” He stepped closer again, circling Mary with slow and calculated steps like a panther on the hunt. “You, and your drunken whore of a mother, your deadbeat father... You were fucking destined for the gutter.”

Mary watched him as he came to stand in front of him again, just a little taller than Mary but puffing his chest out as if to intimidate him. Mary stayed painfully still, grinding his teeth in rage. One wrong move, he was poised and ready to defend himself.

“You think you know me... You don’t know shit,” he taunted, “But I know you...”

“Oh-ho-ho," the Mayor laughed, “You do, do you? This should be good.”

“Yeah... I know you’re a filthy letch who takes everything from good, honest people and lines his pockets with it.” Mary was getting cocky now, arching his eyebrow and tilting his chin up in defiance as a sadistic little smile crossed his split lip. “I know you used to be a good guy, once upon a time. Beautiful family, on top of the world...”

The Mayor barely reacted, pushing his tongue into his cheek and looking down at Mary with the same arrogance he always exuded.

“I know you trapped your perfect little wife up in your ivory fuckin’ tower while you flashed your shit about town like a damn Kennedy brother...”

The Mayor’s eyes darkened. Now Mary was getting to him.

“I know you trained your precious little girl like a damn puppy her whole life, only to have her grow up to resent every little fuckin’ thing about you...”

Mary was about to cross a line. He was about to say something just to get a rise out of him, just to make him snap. He’d never talk about you like this and mean it, but for all the pain and misery this man had caused people through the years, he deserved something that cut him to the bone.

“You repelled her so much that she crawled out of her pink, frilly cage... and spread her fuckin’ legs to the town scum...” Mary laughed, smug and satisfied when he saw the way the Mayor’s hands tightened around his biceps, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Mary took a step closer to him – a stupid move, but he was oozing cockiness, no longer thinking clearly and only wanting to cause as much fucking damage to this prick’s ego as he damn well could. He knew it would turn his stomach to know his daughter was friends with Mary, let alone willingly fucking him.

Mary looked the Mayor up and down, smirking with barely contained glee as he leaned into him to deliver the final blow.

“She calls me daddy now...” he whispered, staring directly into his eyes with an impish sparkle in his own.

The Mayor’s eyes raked over Mary, sizing him up, looking him up and down while he chewed on his cheek, the disgust on his face twisting and morphing into a vile expression of hatred. Before Mary knew what was happening, the blade in his fist was knocked clear across the room, his balance thrown off as two large hands wrapped around his throat. He was spun around and pushed backwards into the small kitchen space, tripping over the mess left there as he tried desperately to fight the power of the much older, much bigger man attacking him.

Soon enough his lower back was being slammed into the edge of a counter, the thumbs of the hands around his throat pressing down on his airways while Mary did what he could to fight back, clawing and scratching at the Mayor.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, spots starting to flicker across his vision as that murderous glare stared back at him. The thought briefly crossed Mary’s mind that he might not stop... Once he was rendered unconscious, there was nothing to stop him from taking the life he’d worked so hard to rebuild over and over again away from him. Just as he’d found a semblance of happiness, too... The Mayor was going to take it all away from him. Again.

The Mayor’s grip adjusted to just one hand tightening around his throat, the other pulling back and coming crashing down on Mary’s cheek with a blow that reopened old wounds of the evening. Mary was going to lose this fight, there was no contest. Blow after blow landed to his face as the Mayor squeezed the life out of him...

“Daddy!”

The Mayor snapped out of his trance, his head whipping behind him with his fist pulled back in preparation for another strike, the other still choking Mary. You looked on in pure horror at what you’d walked into... You had expected to come back to a dangerous situation, but not one that included the attempted murder of your boyfriend at the hands of your own father.

With the Mayor’s attention on you, however brief, Mary took advantage and lifted his foot to push at the Mayor’s hip quickly, twisting him just enough that he lost his grip on him, and Mary fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and spluttering as the oxygen rushed back into his lungs. It was all too much all at once, the sudden rush of blood back to his head and the pain of the punches hitting him at the same time and he rolled and writhed on the floor as he tried to regain control of his body. But the spasms continued, and he could barely see nor hear anything while he squirmed at the Mayor’s feet.

You rushed into the kitchen, attempting to bypass your father and to immediately help Mary but you were stopped, a hand wrapped tightly around your bicep and attempting to drag you away. Of course, you fought back, smacking at your father’s chest and kicking at him as if it would help.

“Let go! Get the fuck off of me! GET OFF!” you screamed over and over, hoping someone might hear from another apartment and come to your aid.

“You forget your place, girl,” your father snarled, barely affected by you beating at him. You managed to wrench your arm free of his grip and take a step back, your father’s attention on you and you alone while Mary still coughed on the floor, almost vomiting with the way his chest heaved.

“If you think it’s with you, you’re sorely fucking mistaken,” you growled. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Teaching this little fucker a lesson in manners,” he spat, pointing down at Mary who spat a glob of red tinted spit to the floor – a biproduct of the hits to the face he had taken. He’d regained enough composure to sit himself upright against the cupboard, letting his head hit the wood as he glared up at your father, chest still heaving.

Only now did your father take a good look at you, seeing how different you looked in a short denim skirt, a fishnet top, the make-up you’d chosen to wear over what you had always been told to. Once again, his expression clouded into disgust.

“What has he done to you?” he asked, looking you up and down.

“Him? You think I’d jump from a life where I’m controlled by a man into another one?” you shrieked. Your father pretended not to hear you, instead leaning down to quickly grab Mary by his shirt and heave him to his feet, holding him against the cabinets again. Mary didn’t fight back; he couldn’t. He was still in too much pain, his body not responding to his commands.

“You take my daughter from me, and dress her up like one of your scummy little whores?” he screamed into Mary’s face while all he could do was wince and squeeze his eyes shut, trying to steady the swimming sensation in his head.

You rushed towards them, pushing at your father until you could weave yourself between the two of them. Mary barely kept himself upright against the counter, but you reached a hand behind you anyway, securing it in his and holding it tightly against your back.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” you warned.

“You wanna protect this little shit? Why? You think you love him?” your father mocked, scoffing at the mere thought of it. “I couldn’t quite believe it when I finally got it out of your mother... As soon as she told me she saw you get into a shitty black van, I fucking knew... I thought ‘no, no way my little girl is that fucking stupid’. Of all the decent guys in this town, you choose this?”

The anger you felt as he berated you, insulting not only Mary but you and your intelligence too... You had no time to be angry at your mother, knowing what your father was like and how he could manipulate anybody to get what he wanted out of them. All of your energy was directed into protecting Mary, standing between him and your father and proving to them both you weren’t backing down. Gone were the days of obeying and staying in your lane. If Mary had taught you anything in your short time together, it was that you could be yourself and stand up for what you believe in unapologetically. And you believed in Mary...

“He’s a better man than you give him credit for,” you seethed, squeezing his hand behind your back. Your father laughed maniacally at you, throwing his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Really? This little shit? If you think he’s any good for you, you’re dumber than I ever imagined. You come from a good, respectable family. This whole fucking town knows me, loves me, and all I ever did was give you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter... But you throw it back in my face?” he argued, throwing his hands around as he yelled. But you stood your ground. “You know where he comes from, right? Deadbeat fucking dad who drank and gambled his money away. A whore of a mother who also drank herself into a permanent hospital bed?”

“You’d... know all about that, w-wouldn't you?” Mary struggled to speak through laboured breaths from behind you, hunched over but pushing up on the counter to stand upright.

Your father’s head snapped back to glare at Mary. “Excuse me?”

You felt a change in the air, notably in your father’s demeanour. His eyes had widened, and he seemed to freeze in place, waiting for Mary to speak again while he caught his breath and used his strength to stand properly behind you. He kept hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly but once he stood up, he used his free hand to steady himself on your waist; both protectively and for stability.

“You... you think you have a right to judge... my mother? After what you did?” he asked rhetorically, which only confused you. Your brow creased and you turned your head to look back at Mary.

“What are you talking about?” you asked softly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. He tore his eyes from your father to glance at you, offering you a look of apology laced with fear as if he were apologising for what you were about to hear... When he looked back at your father, your eyes followed to see that same wide-eyed expression. “What did you do?”

“You gonna tell her, or should I?” Mary’s voice was a warning, but still, your father remained silent. If he wasn’t going to tell you what the hell was going on, you’d just let Mary. Someone needed to say something, and quickly, before you lost your cool again.

“Tell me,” you ordered them both, but still you directed your glare at your father.

“Yeah why don’t we tell her, hm?” Mary’s voice had grown a little stronger, recovered from the hands that had squeezed his neck for almost too long. Adrenaline was kicking in, numbing the pain in his head from the beatings and giving him the strength to get angry, to challenge the Grand High Mayor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he defied. Mary just scoffed.

“You tricked my mother, and took everything from her...” he spat. You looked back at Mary, confused and shocked. Your father just stood in silence, glaring.

“How?” you asked, “Tell me everything. Now.”

“You won’t like this...” he warned, never breaking eye contact to look at you.

“I don’t fucking care, Mary. Tell me.”

He took a moment, forcing a steadying breath to calm the rising nerves. He’d never wanted you to hear this, fearing it might just devastate you to know who exactly your father was, the kind of man he could be, and what he was capable of. You hadn’t needed to find this out, but this had all gone too far. He wanted nothing more than to pull the rug from under the Mayor’s feet, to make sure he knew that Mary knew everything, that he needed to be very fucking careful this secret never got out. Mary had him in checkmate, holding the secret in until someone came along who would hear him and believe him – someone with a higher standing in the town than himself and his friends.

“My mom got clean when I was 15,” he began, “She’d stopped drinking, got herself a job that could keep us going while I was in school, and still working for Mr. Rogers on the weekends. We were living out in the Oak Ridge apartment complexes, and we were doing alright.”

“Then in came a man in a dapper suit with a briefcase and a fuckin’ God complex, who convinced the landlords to sell up so he could flatten the building and build office blocks instead. He fucked over all the residents, all hard-working people, by flashing compensation to the landlords who just handed out eviction notices. But my mom owned our shitty little apartment outright. She’d just managed to club together the money for the deposit, to get herself a mortgage and have a place that was just ours. She wanted stability, and she didn’t want to sell up. She was the last one who refused...”

Your father’s eye twitched as he readjusted his stance, like suddenly he was incredibly uncomfortable. “You don’t actually believe this fucking scumbag, do you?” he asked you, interrupting Mary.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snapped, and miraculously, he did just that.

“So he... He charmed her. He bought her pretty things, took her to fancy places out of town, told her everything she’d ever wanted to hear... He told her he loved her,” Mary’s voice cracked at that, at the hurt of somebody lying to his mother when that had been all she’d ever wanted, “He seduced her, and told her he’d run away with her and give her the life she’d always wanted with him... if she’d just... sign on the dotted line...”

You felt sick to your stomach. Not only had he taken advantage of Mary’s mom, their situation, all for his own gain, but he’d cheated on your mother, gone behind his own family’s back to manipulate a damaged but healing woman and ruin her life. Your head span with overwhelm, purely disgusted by what you were hearing. You knew your father wasn’t a good man, but you had no idea he was such a monster...

“When she signed the deed over, he dropped her and left us both on the streets. He left us with nothing; no money, no home. We had to move into the Quartz motel, and she was heartbroken. She started drinking again, more and more because of what YOU did,” Mary snarled at him, pointing his finger as he raised his voice. “She was too depressed to get back up again, and I had to pick up the pieces. I had to quit school, work full time and give everything up when I was fucking 16 years old just to keep us afloat. She never recovered, and it didn’t matter when I got us this shitty little apartment and finally moved us outta the Quartz, her body gave up.”

Mary pushed you to one side in his rage and stepped up to your father. You stumbled and caught yourself on the counter, too stunned to do or say anything about it as the truth sunk in. Mary got in his face again, pointing his finger directly at him and screamed, “It’s because of YOU she almost fuckin’ DIED. You piece of SHIT! YOU AS GOOD AS KILLED HER!” Mary slapped his hand against your father’s chest, who just stood there and took it, glaring at Mary as if he were still that same kid.

You shook yourself from your own little trance and pulled Mary back to you by his arm, turning your back on your father and holding Mary’s cheeks to soothe him, to calm him down as he broke down at the truth. Mary stood there and sobbed, letting you wipe the tears as you shushed him, whispering apologies to him as if any of this had been your fault. But your heart broke for him...

How could your father have ever been that callous? You thought you’d known him, that he wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it seemed he was. You were aware he leaned more towards right wing politics, and no, you didn’t agree with him. And you’d known some of his associates were bent and unethical in their ways, but you’d never known he was as corrupt as Mary was telling you. All those whiffs of under the table deals you’d gotten over the years were true. He was a crook... A liar, a cheat, and abusive fucking monster.

“You don’t seriously believe this shit, Pumpkin?” he asked, using a damn pet name of all things to try and get you back on side. You span around to glower at him, rage bubbling up inside you.

“Don’t you fucking ‘Pumpkin’ me, you arrogant letch!” you screamed. “That explains why you kept disappearing all the damn time, spending your evenings and weekends anywhere but at home. I guess now I fucking know where you went... You missed half of my sweet sixteen, for fuck’s sake! Sped off right after the cake and didn’t come home for two days. Is that where you went? Is that where you always went? To take advantage of a decent woman who only wanted to be loved? To give her kid the BEST FUCKING LIFE POSSIBLE!?”

“I never went anywhere near his slut of a mother!” he yelled back.

“Oh, please!” Mary interjected, “You fucked her, and then you fucked her over.”

“You LIAR!” Your father lunged at Mary again but you stopped him, forcing him back with a push that took all of your strength, all of your anger. He didn’t try it again, instead focussing his anger on you now.

“You gonna let him manipulate you like this? Lie to you? He’s just trying to come between us, Pumpkin, to keep you away from me. He'll fucking use you and dump you for the next girl who shows him any attention. You’re just some petty fucking revenge he’s taking out on me... He’s USING YOU!”

“Sounds more like something you’d do...” you growled at him. You had made your choice already, long before tonight. Your place was at Mary’s side, now more so than ever. Fucking revenge. As if Mary would have lied to you all this time... There was no way?

Your father straightened himself up, dusting his shirt off as if there were something on it, but it gave him a moment to collect himself, to make himself seem the prim and proper one.

“If you choose to believe his lies and stay with him, then that’s your stupid choice,” he told you as he straightened the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, not even affording you the decency of eye contact. “But know this; you choose him, and that’s it. You will have nothing. No money, no home, no future. I’ll make sure neither of you work in this town. I will cut you off completely.”

He thought he had the upper hand, that his words would scare you into submission and force you to come home with him. He seemed to forget the heated words you’d exchanged the night of the dinner at the Town Hall...

“I thought I’d made myself pretty clear last time we spoke... I don’t want to live under your fucking thumb anymore. You told me to leave once before, and what, now you’ve changed your mind? You want to play happy families, and drag me back into the life you forced me to live? I want my own life, and now? I want it as far away from you as I can possibly get.”

Your father stared at you, his jaw grinding in anger. He’d lost control of you, and he hated it. You were unravelling his perfect ‘family man’ façade that had won him all those elections, tearing down the perception the town had of him as this kind, caring man with a beautiful family.

As you glared at each other, challenging the other to speak first, heavy footsteps got closer as if someone were running down the hallway outside the apartment and soon, Forrest ran into the apartment clutching a baseball bat and ready to swing. He stopped short at the scene in front of him, not having expected this at all... Mary, beaten and bloodied behind you, squaring up to your father, the Mayor...

Forrest knew everything and quickly connected the dots, keeping the bat raised and ready in case your father tried anything at all. But now he was outnumbered, and his pride wounded.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake, madam,” he warned. “You’ll end up a low life like these idiots, and laying in a hospital bed just like his mother.”

“You need to leave,” Forrest told him firmly. “You got another witness now, sir,” he warned, sarcasm dripping from the honorific.

Your father straightened up and turned, taking a few steps to stand at the edge of the kitchen where Forrest backed up to give him the room to leave, bat still raised. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back to see you reach for Mary’s hand, holding his cheek gently in yours as you took a good look at the bruises and blood that covered his face.

“You should get out of town before morning,” he began. “I will pull every string at my disposal to make sure you will never find peace here. This is my town, and this?” he waved his finger around, “is a dangerous neighbourhood. Especially without a deadbolt.” He nodded towards the front door that he’d bust open.

“Get out,” Forrest reiterated with a look that could have burst him into flames if he had the ability.

Without another word, your father turned and left, slamming the front door that only bounced back open with nothing left to catch.

Forrest lowered the bat with a sigh, rubbing at his forehead from the stress. You focussed all of your attention on Mary, checking he was okay. He certainly wasn’t... He’d taken two beatings in one night and was covered in a litany of injuries that needed attention.

Without saying a word, Forrest dropped the bat on the floor with a clatter and rushed into the bathroom, pulling out an old first aid kid from under Mary’s sink and rushing back with it while you gently guided an exhausted Mary to his couch, forcing him to sit back.

As you patched him up with band aids and gauze and fed him a glass of water, no one dared to speak another word. After everything that had happened tonight, the silence – however brief – was welcome. But eventually, one of you had to break it.

“We should get you to a hospital, Mare. You might have a concussion, or a bust nose or something’,” Forrest reasoned. Mary shook his head.

“I’ll be good, don’t think anything’s broken.” Neither you nor Forrest argued with him. “Fuck, what the hell are we gonna do?” he asked, sinking further down into the couch beside where you knelt on the cushion, hovering over him.

“He’s just trying to scare you both, right? He’s pissed, just wants you both out but what the fuck can he really do?” Forrest asked from the floor, where he’d picked up the broken picture of Mary and his mom and set it on the coffee table. Mary stared at it, biting back the sting of tears.

“Anything... he can do anything. He’ll make good on his threat, his security don’t ask questions.” You chewed on your thumbnail anxiously, trying to think of your next move.

“I’m sorry...” Mary mumbled, looking down at the picture on the table with shame in his eyes.

“For what?” you asked, shuffling closer to him and gently turning his chin towards you, “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“He’s cut you off because of me,” he sniffled, keeping the tears in his eyes at bay. “I’ve fucked your life up for you already...”

“Don’t you dare,” you told him firmly, “you listen to me. I chose this, I needed to get away from him and I did. This is a blessing, we’ll be okay-”

“How the hell are we gonna be okay? We can’t stay here anymore, we got nowhere to go and the money I make at the shop isn’t gonna keep us both afloat for long...” he panicked, but you hushed him with a finger to his lips.

“We’ll figure it out. Money’s not a problem...” Mary looked confused, as did Forrest, the pair of them staring at you. “I’ve... I’ve been saving. Funnelling money away for a while. I knew someday I’d wanna get out and well... I opened a bank account as soon as I was old enough and just kept throwing my allowance into it. I got a trust fund when I was 18, he thinks I spent it. I didn’t, it’s been stashed away for years. We can get a place Mary, we just need somewhere for now.”

Mary blinked at you dumbly, “You... You want that?”

“What, to run away with you? Are you kidding?” You ran your fingers through his hair, avoiding the long strands that were clumped together with dried blood. “Haven’t I already done that?” you asked with a soft smile.

Mary gawked at you, smiling a little himself before he leaned closer to you and planted his bust lips onto yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. Forrest coughed from the floor, bringing the two of you back to reality.

“That’s great and all, but... where the hell are you gonna go for now?” he asked. Mary processed his question for a second, thinking it over.

“Well, it’s not exactly a ‘best case scenario’, but... I have an air mattress back at the shop? It’s just a storage unit but it’s outta town. Sometimes I’d work late and be too tired to drive home so I’d crash there. No one really knows where it is, I never have clients come to the unit.”

“It’ll do, while we look for a place in the city,” you told him. You didn’t care where you stayed or what you slept on, as long as it was safe – as long as Mary was safe.

Forrest nodded, getting up from the floor and starting to gather some of the mess from your father’s rage. “Better get a move on then... Grab what you need, I’ll help you move it in my van too.”

Before either of you stood up, Mary sat upright and turned to face you. “You sure about this, doll? Like... really? I can’t expect you to use that money to set us both up.”

“Oh, shut up...” you smirked, swatting his shoulder lightly. “You really having second thoughts about taking my dear daddy’s money and running off into the night?”

Mary’s eyes glinted with a mischievous sparkle, and his lips curved into a smirk. “Well, when you put it like that...” He leaned in as you giggled, welcoming another slow, tender kiss that felt like a triumphant win given the events of the night.

From across the room, Forrest rolled his eyes, picking up a small pillow and throwing it at the both of you to break you up. When you both yelped and looked up at him, he simply widened his eyes and shook his head, tapping at an imaginary watch on his wrist as if to say ‘hello? Get moving!”. You stood from the couch, reaching your hands out to Mary who used your strength as leverage to sit upright, his whole body aching and protesting after all the damn fighting tonight. Forrest was, of course, right. You needed to pack up what you could quickly, and get the hell out of town.

So much had happened tonight, and so much had been said that couldn’t remain just a fleeting exchange in the heat of the moment. Revelations of the kind of man your father truly was had to be put to the back of your mind for now, to be dealt with and talked properly about in the coming days. For now, you couldn’t focus on it - the wound too painful to acknowledge until you were out of harm’s way. You couldn’t think about the truth, or what that meant in terms of your relationship with Mary. The thought that perhaps you were just Mary’s retribution couldn’t take root in your mind, lest it grow into genuine suspicion. There was no time to let doubts creep in. Instead, you dove into packing with Forrest, shoving clothes and essentials in whatever bags or boxes you could find to busy your mind.

But Mary; he stayed put, fiddling anxiously with his rings. Neither you nor Forrest questioned him, figuring after two pretty rough beatings tonight he could sit this one out. But it wasn’t that that held him back...

His own doubts were seeping in, an anxiety burning in his chest. He’d unveiled a huge part of himself tonight, something he’d never intended for you to know. He’d never wanted to hurt you with this and now that he had, he had to force down the guilt that came when he’d seen the look on your face as the truth spilled. His disdain for the Mayor hadn’t ever been as simple as hating the face of the town that hated him. There was so much more to it than that, but he’d never wanted to make that your burden.

Part of him now was terrified. The thought had crossed his mind that perhaps – maybe not now, maybe not for a while, but someday – you might think he chose you for this, like some sick revenge on the Mayor. Even he had accused Mary of it, claiming he was using you... Taking his only daughter and defiling her, corrupting her just to get his own back. That night back in the dive bar had started as a bet, yes. The thought had indeed crossed his mind that it was ironic he’d got to fuck you after your father had fucked over his family. But you were so much more than that...

He was in too deep now. He loved you. Now more than ever, he was afraid he might lose you over this. He prayed that you didn’t think that, that your father’s own accusation had fallen on deaf ears.

But for now, he just needed to get you both out of town. As long as you were safe, he’d take whatever consequences came his way.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

#mary goore fanfiction #mary goore fanfic #mary goore x reader #mary goore #repugnant fan fiction #repugnant fanfiction #repugnant #repugnant band #ghost bc #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost the band #mary goore smut

140 notes · View notes

llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

Text

Thank you @robobbin for this adorable commission of Mafiafell Sans caring for their OC sick at home. You know I can't live without big scaryboys absolutely melting when their darling is unwell <3

---

“hey sweetcheeks.”

You looked up from your position nestled on the couch, a flash of hot confusion and embarrassment momentarily awakening you from your feverish stupor. That... wasn’t the voice you expected to hear, coming through your front door. You lifted your head up a few inches- movement in inches was all you could manage right now.

... It was Sans. Sans was in your house. He had a nice, pressed red shirt and black pants- your spare keys hooked onto a claw, two plastic bags over one of his big arms, and an unreadable lilt to his shark grin.

“... Sans?” You mumbled, eyes widening into saucers. You felt your cheeks immediately get even hotter.

Your fever hadn’t improved, as you’d hoped it would. In fact, it had only gotten worse as the hours wore on; moving and thinking had grown increasingly impossible. In a total mess, you’d called Papyrus, asking if he could bring over something for you to eat... though you didn’t actually recall what he’d said back to you, most of it just blurring together in your head.

... You’d been expecting Pap. Pap knew you, he'd already seen you weak and gross before. Pap had carried you home from the gym, once, after you made the mistake of trying to keep up with his workout.

You were not anticipating the arrival of his hot brother, whom you had a massive crush on.

Despite feverishly sweating, you pulled the blanket further up over you. You felt embarrassed to be seen like this.

“sorry, i know you were expectin’ boss.” He put both of the plastic bags down onto the coffee table, crouching beside the couch to be closer to your eye level. You twisted your hands in the blanket, his proximity making your heart thump. “he’s swamped with work, so i’m droppin off the emergency goods instead. though i’ll be sure to let him know you missed him.”

“... O-oh.” Your mind was fried. You stared- he looked great. It felt like the longer you knew each other, the better he dressed, it was amazing how his presence could simultaneously make you feel so much worse but also so much better. “N-no, it’s okay. I’m... fine. You’re fine.”

He chuckled, musically, eyelights warm. His voice felt good in your painful chest. “i’m fine?”

“N-not like... fine as in hot. Fine as in okay.” Your cheeks were just on fire at this point. The fever had removed any and all barriers between your head and your mouth, so words just waterfalled out. “Not that you’re not hot. You are. You’re very hot. You.. uh,”

... Shit. Again, that little edge to his smile. You wanted to sink between the couch cushions and die.

Rather than make fun of you, Sans just gently reached over you, placing a cold compress against your forehead. He was so close you could smell him.

“you’re burning up. and ya look terrible. i’m gonna stay over and watch you.”

"N-no-!!" You blurted, nearly sitting up. The guy you liked, staying and seeing you completely out of it, at your absolute worst? No???

He grinned. "sorry, pet. not gettin' rid of me until your fever goes down."

... You covered your face with both hands. This was mortifying. Were you glad he was here? Absolutely. You didn't want to be alone right now, and his insistence on staying despite your protests felt good. But you still wanted to die.

“pap really went nuts with the food when he found out you were unwell. y’know he’s got a list of all your allergies? let’s see...” You could hear him start unpacking the bags, placing things onto the table. “some funky soup. saltines, popsicles, iced coconut water. ginger candy... whole bunch of herbal teabags. you ever had sea tea?”

You kept one hand on your face, gesturing randomly with the other. “Soup. Soup please.”

“soup comin’ right up, gorgeous.”

You tried to say thank you, but just a weak grumble came out, the room was spinning again. You heard him move into the kitchen... so you just let yourself sink back into the couch, comforted by another person’s presence.

...

You didn’t know how much time passed, he eventually returned. You could smell something nice.

"hey. can ya sit up a lil, for me?'

... You didn’t really respond to his query. Curled in blankets like a feverish squirrel, you merely made a sound in the back of your throat to acknowledge him. The fever was getting worse.

... Big hands, on your body. There was movement... Sans shifted you, everything spun. You were vaguely aware of him sitting you up, supporting you with one big hand- you did your best to just watch his face, focus on his lovely red eyelights.

"c'mon. soup’s ready. here comes the airplane."

... Despite the state of you, that made you giggle. And judging by the smile that filled your wobbling vision... he liked the sound.

///---///

...

... He was probably enjoying himself a little too much.

Sans shifted his legs into a slightly comfier position from his spot in front of the couch. This definitely wasn’t what he thought he’d be doing today. He’d been planning on going out for a drink, maybe crossing some names off a list while his blood was up- the usual stupidity he filled his free time with.

... Then he got Pap’s call about you. And instantly, it had felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

Now, here he was; in his crush’s house, spoon-feeding her warm soup, trying to keep a nonchalant face while wrestling with an (emotional) noisy Soul.

... i haven’t felt like this in a long time.

You were so cute. His nasal ride wrinkled, and he pinched the soup spoon a bit tighter, restraining the urge to grab your cheek- he felt bad for not being able to stop thinking about how cute you looked, when you were so unwell. But he couldn’t help it. All snuggled up in blankets, hair frizzy and unkempt, glasses askew, flushed and warm... you had a twinkly, glazed look to your eyes, not too dissimilar from the look people got when they were drunk. He’d been fighting the urge to ruffle your hair this whole time.

...

Sans bit his tongue. This was mundane, compared to his normal life. Some might even consider it a chore. But... he hadn’t felt this nice in so long. He felt... useful. Wanted.

When was the last time someone had been openly, willingly, weak around him? When was the last time someone was in a state of fragility, and wanted him nearby?

Mushy feelings filled his chest. Soft. Overprotective. He was hyper-aware of how sick you were and he didn’t want to leave your side, not even for a second, not even to go home. Even just acknowledging those emotions made colour rise to his cheekbones... he hadn't felt anything like this level of protectiveness since Pap was just a babybones.

... But damn... it felt good to be needed.

...

Warm fingers curled around his hand.

He very nearly jumped out of his fucking seat at the sensation- he fumbled the soup spoon, mumbling out a little ‘shit’ as he broke out of his thoughts, turning to look at you.

... Your tiny hand was wrapped around two of his phalanges. Sparkly eyes peered up at him.

fuck. His Soul thudded in his throat. don’t look away from me.

"... h-hey. c'mon." His voice was shaky. "that ain't fair."

"Huh?" Came your bleary reply. so fucking cute. stop it.

"you've stolen my hand, doll."

... You looked to his captured hand, slowly. Like you only just realised you had it.

...

"... Mine now." You mumbled.

...

He tried to muster up a quick joke, like always. Tried to come up with a sharp-witted response. Something with swagger, something with a flirtatious edge, something with confidence that would show you how cool and collected he was.

...

Nothing came out of his mouth. It was like trying to start an empty car.

“... o-oh.”

...

"... You're great." You said, eyes fluttering closed.

"... huh?"

"Great guy. Handsome guy. Nice to me." It didn't sound like you intended those thoughts to be said out loud. He felt his eyelights flare- his Soul was thumping against his ribs.

Words banged at his tongue, but the only sound he managed to get out was a tiny shaking hum of affirmation.

You drew his hand up toward your face, he absolutely had the strength to stop you but he felt like he’d been flashbanged. All he could do was watch... as turned on your side to get cosy, pulled up his hand to your face... and happily nuzzled the back of it.

“My big guy.” You murmured.

...

Just like that, you were asleep.

...

Sans used his free hand to cover his face. His whole skull was carmine red, glowing like a campfire. It made him look almost as feverish as you.

...

i never want to leave.

#commissions #okay but MF SANS #can i get an amen up in here #only the most delightful bastards in this household

405 notes · View notes

guilty-pleasures21 · 6 months

Text

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

6. Sigh. You're trash, you know that?

Part 1 - the machine

Part 2 - the period

Part 3 - the sparring

Warnings: descriptions of foreplay including blowjobs (f and m receiving).

----------------------------------------------------------

X gasped as her leg twitched with pleasure.

“Stop!” She sat up quickly and twisted her head around to look back at her boyfriend. “Slow down, Miguel!”

Miguel reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her and groaned. He squeezed her ass in his hands, taking his frustration out on her soft flesh. “Why won't you let me make you come, querida?”

He licked her skin and closed his mouth around her mound, grazing her skin with his fangs. X's body gave a little twitch in response and she let out a soft moan of delight, before turning her attention back to his cock.

“Because,” she began, lowering herself back down on top of him and stroking her fingers along his deliciously hard length. “It's more fun like this.”

She dragged her tongue up his shaft, then closed her mouth around him and sucked hard before pressing a kiss to his tip. Miguel sighed as she let out a pleased hum against him and let his head fall back against the sofa.

“Coño, arañita,” he grumbled, regretting his suggestion that they focus on foreplay while she was ovulating. She'd tried to go on birth control since they'd started dating a month ago, but the side effects had been too painful to bear. Thankfully, he'd learned how to tell which part of her cycle she was on based on how her smell and taste had changed with the different hormones she'd started producing - that and how super horny for him she'd suddenly gotten. It had been absolute torture, the way she'd brush up against him at HQ or run her fingers down his neck and spine or steal him away for a quick makeout session in some unattended supply closet somewhere. And it was even more unbearable once he got home: she’d just walk around in nothing but his shirt or her underwear, the collar or the straps always sliding off her shoulders to expose her tanned skin to him. He’d been going to the pharmacy every night the past few days just to make sure he had enough condoms to be prepared for whenever she finally decided to pounce on him. “Estás loca, mi amor. (You're crazy, my love.)”

He rubbed her p*ssy with his fingers, trying to keep his movements slow enough to keep her aroused without making her come. Then he lifted his head up and pulled her back over his mouth so he could start kissing her p*ssy again. X moaned as he pulled her folds into his mouth and dribbled his tongue along her length, utterly delighted by the sensations.

“Mmm. Loca por ti, mi querido (Crazy for you, my darling),” she responded mischievously. She continued to lick and fondle his cock, her movements so torturously slow as she played with length and tip. Then suddenly, her watch started beeping, interrupting her focus. She sat up quickly, pulling herself away from Miguel's mouth, and he scowled at the sudden movement.

“¡Ay, coño, arañita!” She ignored his grumbles and searched for her shirt, but found it much too far away to grab before whoever it was hung up on her. So, she grabbed a pillow instead and clutched it tight to her chest before answering the emergency alert.

“Hello?” Pav's hologram appeared in front of her and he sighed with relief when he saw her face.

“Spider-mum?! Thank God! Are you alone?!” Miguel's head fell back against the sofa again and he twisted his fingers into his hair as he tried to suppress a groan. Of course - of course those malditos teenagers would be the first ones to cockblock him when he was trying to relax with his gorgeous little girlfriend. X bit her lip and tried not to glance back at him and give his presence away.

“Um, what happened?” she asked, avoiding the question.

“We-”

“Please don't tell Miguel!” Gwen interrupted quickly, popping up beside Pav on the hologram. Then X heard Hobie's voice coming from somewhere in the background.

“I'm pretty sure that screw was already loose anyway.” X dug her fingers into the cushion as she felt Miguel tighten his grip on her thighs, her boyfriend getting more agitated by the second.

“Um, guys? What happened?” she asked, trying to keep her tone calm so Miguel wouldn't start freaking out immediately. Pav gave her a sheepish look and her stomach squeezed in anticipation.

“You know that machine that helps Margo project herself to the 'go home' room?” he began.

“Yeah …” X replied cautiously. Pav winced.

“Well, there might have been a screw already loose in it and we might have accidentally helped that tiny little screw get out the rest of the way, so-”

“So it might have broke,” Hobie finished, imitating Pav's hesitant tone. Miguel shot up immediately, his expression thunderous as he scowled at them. X yelped in alarm as she pitched forward at the sudden movement, but Miguel grabbed her quickly and wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from falling over.

“You did what?!” he exclaimed, completely unbothered by the fact that they were both naked and she was sitting on his lap after clearly having been sitting on his face and-

“We'll be there in five! Bye!” X squeaked out before hanging up on them, unable to bear the embarrassment any longer. Miguel frowned.

“What? Why'd you hang up?” His girlfriend twisted her head around to shoot him a look of disbelief.

“Because!” she yelled back, gesturing between the two of them incredulously. “We're kind of naked right now?!” Miguel curled his arms around her waist and groaned in irritation as his head fell against her shoulder.

“Why …” he sighed, unable to comprehend the silly mistake. “What were they even doing there?!” X relaxed and ruffled his hair reassuringly. He liked it when she did that, he'd quickly learned, the feeling of her slender fingers tickling his scalp always making him feel a little drowsy.

“Hey, let's just go check it out first,” she suggested patiently. “Then we can decide how bad it really is. ¿Bien?”

He turned his head to the side to glance up at her. She was so cute when she spoke Spanish to him; when she sprinkled a few words into her sentences in an attempt to reciprocate his manner of speech - to show him how much she cared about all the small details that made him up. He sighed and pressed a kiss to her shoulder before pulling back.

“Bien. But no more foreplay when we get back, ¿entiendes, querida?” he warned her, his eyes trailing along her naked body as she stood up before him. He grabbed her waist and tugged her back to him so he could press his lips to her abdomen. “I don't want anyone else to stop me before I can f*ck you.”

She let out a squeak at the word, still a little shy to be talking so openly about it. But then she giggled at how badly he wanted her and ran her fingers through his hair again.

“Okay,” she relented before turning around to go get her suit. “¡Vamos, querido!”

Gwen cleared throat awkwardly as they all watched Miguel examine the machine. “So, um, sorry for … interrupting you guys.”

X's eyes widened with embarrassment and she waved her hands at Gwen quickly.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! You didn't …” She gave an awkward chuckle, already plotting five different ways to murder Miguel in her head. “You didn't interrupt anything.”

“You did,” Miguel called back immediately, picking up on their conversation with his sensitive hearing. “Apology not accepted.”

X glanced around nervously, studiously avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. “Um, maybe you guys should … go home? You don't … have homework … or something?”

Pav puffed up his chest proudly at the suggestion. “No. My homework's all done.”

“Great, then you can help me with mine!” Gwen demanded, grabbing him by the back of his collar and dragging him behind her. She spun around, searching for Hobie in the dim light of the room. “Hobie? I need you to let me into your place.”

Hobie hopped off a beam he'd been casually lounging on and landed in front of Gwen.

“I thought I gave you a key,” he replied, clearly not getting it either. Gwen gritted her teeth in frustration and forced a smile.

“I forgot it,” she ground out, still holding onto Pav. “Can we go?” She gestured aggressively to the door and understanding finally dawned on Hobie.

“Oh, yeah, right. We'll see you guys later.” Finally, they left the room, allowing X and Miguel a moment of privacy.

“You need help, querido?” X asked, going over to see what he was working on. Miguel straightened and flashed her a knowing smirk.

“I think you'd be better help sitting over there,” he joked, gesturing to the other side of the room. X frowned at the insult.

“So mean, Miguel!” she chastised him. Miguel grinned and turned his attention back to the machine.

“We all have our strengths, arañita,” he assured her. “Technology just … isn't one of yours.”

“I'm … I'm okay with technology!” she argued, thinking it through. “My world just isn't as advanced as yours. Not yet, anyway.” She folded her arms across her chest and glanced away from him, her lips twisting into a pretty little pout as she did so. Miguel smiled and shot a web at her to pull her closer to him.

“I'm only joking, querida,” he told her, setting his tools down and wrapping her up in his arms. X's lips twitched as she put her hands on his shoulders.

“Well, maybe you should practise more,” she sniffed, pretending to still be upset by his teasing. “You're not very funny, querido.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow. “And you call me mean?”

X tilted her head to the side as her lips stretched into a smile.

“I'm only joking, querido,” she said, her tone sarcastic as she echoed his words. Miguel pinched her side and X yelped in alarm before hitting his shoulder.

“You're so mean, Miguel!” she repeated, glaring at him with her wide and pretty eyes. Miguel reached a hand up to cup her cheek and pull her mouth closer to his.

“Hey, so, I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds,” Lyla began, interrupting them without remorse, “but we kind of have a really important machine we need to fix right now, so …” Miguel sighed and let his forehead sink down on X's. He really couldn't catch a break today.

“Fine,” he groaned, reluctantly releasing his hold on X and returning to the machine. X leaned over to try to catch his gaze.

“I'll go make myself busy,” she decided, flashing him a naughty smile. “I wouldn't want to provide any more … distractions while you're trying to work, Dr O'Hara.” She bent over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned around to web out of the room.

“Coño, arañita,” Miguel mumbled under his breath as she disappeared. “Serás mi muerte un día. (You'll be the death of me one day.)”

Tags: @leahnicole1219 @heubstr

94 notes · View notes

onlycrystal · 1 year

Note

hiii! i’m a new fan bc i gotta say, your work is like beyond amazing. helloooo? anywho pretty please i’d like to request a dilf!ushijima x fem!reader if that’s okay!

(i’d really love a good smut please ☹️☹️) thank you so much<3333

@iiyuxii

authors note: thank you so much?!? you are so respectful and sweet <3 I hope you enjoy! not proof read btw

cw: breeding kink, dilf!ushijima, dom ushi, sub reader, ddlg, praise, unprotected, smut, semi public sex, oral (m receiving)

idk what to title this

after a tiring weekend, you and your husband, ushijima, had come to conclusion that next weekend you would need a babysitter. ushijima comes home from work everyday burnt out and exhausted, to see you also burnt out and exhausted from entertaining your baby daughter the entire day.

"doll, we deserve one weekend off. we can go to a fancy resturant, and drink. come on, I know you miss it" his voice became playful at the end of his sentence, smirking down at you.

you finally agreed, and on Saturday afternoon, you kissed your daughter goodbye, leaving her with ushijimas parents, who are more than happy to watch her for the weekend.

you get ready at your house. opening your closet, you see many different kinds of dresses that you haven't had the opportunity to wear in awhile. you end up going with a black satin dress, with a slit. you pair it with black stilettos and a black shoulder bag. u even do your lipstick to match. you begin to smile as you get yourself ready. you were so excited! its been so long since you'd done something like this with ushijima.

as you step out into the kitchen, you see ushijima straighten himself up. he's dressed in a white button up, with 3 buttons unbuttoned at the top, on top wearing a black blazer and black slacks. you blush at the part of his chest you can barely see, and he stares at you intently. as you approach him, he puts his rough calloused hands on your hips, slightly moving them up and down. you blush harder as he says, "darling, you look... gorgeous" he stares into your eyes, and then they start to angle down to the low-cut of your dress. you put your hand on his chin, and angle his face back up so he's looking at your face again. "thank you, daddy" you giggle, and start walking out the front door as he just stands there in shock. you turn around and say "you coming" he snaps back into it and you leave to the 2 Michelin star restaurant.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

his eyes stay glued to your chest as you put your elbows up on the table, forearms pressed up against your tits enlarging them as you order your entrée. "and sir, what will it be for you?" he snaps back into reality, his gaze immediately fixing on the waiter "o-oh, ill go with the steak, medium rare, sir." the server writes down your dishes and walks away. ushijima blushes slightly and pushes his hair back as he realizes the way his pants start to tighten around him. "I love the meat here! its so- ushi baby, are you okay?" you take note of the way he looks reddish, and he becomes redder as you pose your question. "yeah babe, its nothing, you were saying?" you shrug it off and blab off at him. ushijima is such a good boyfriend, always listening to what you have to say and being patient. but the whole time you talk, it gets drowned out as he just stares at your chest and practically drools. "babeee, seriously are you okay? I feel like you're out of it." you ask him, but he just stares back at you and inches closer and closer to your face over the candle lit at your table. he closes the gap and kisses you lazily as he grabs you wrist and guides it down to his lab. he uses your palm to press against his erection in his pants. you blush at how big and hard he is. "look at what youre doing to me, honey..." the pet name melts off his tongue as he stares at you with lust. you rub your legs together at the heat forming in your core. "but b-babe we're in p-public..!" you whisper shout at him. instead of replying, he grabs your arm and leads you to the single use bathroom in a hurry.

he closes the door and locks it quickly before backing you up against the wall and making out with you, aggressively, hungrily. you moan into each others lips as his heavy body presses you against the wall harshly. even on stilettos, ushijima still has to slightly kneel to meet your lips but he doesn't care. he loves your height. he pulled away and started attacking your neck, biting and sucking leaving hickies all over and making you come undone. your hands found their way onto his body, one hand holding him for support and the other palming over his crotch. you whimpered in his ear, as he sucked against your sweet spot. "waka, its- t-too much~" you could feel him get harder and rub him against your hand, causing him to let a low groan out against your neck. "fuck" he threw his head back slightly, adams apple bobbing in his throat. you got on your knees, as if you read his mind, and started undoing his belt. you let his cock spring free from his pants and began leaving kitten licks. ushijima is always careful about where he puts his hands on you, because his biggest fear is hurting you. he never forces you down further, but instead lets you take your time as you engulf his huge cock in your mouth. it takes a bit of time but you manage to get the whole thing in your mouth, and slowly start bopping your head. ushjima puts his hand in his hair, pushing it back slightly as he let out groans (that were barely moans). "fuckkk, I love you" you smile against his length and continue sucking him off until you finally hear his groans turn to moans and his hot seed spews in the back of your throat. you swallow the whole thing, and stand back up.

you whimper and whine as ushijima turns you around, your face pushed up against the wall. he moves your dress up, exposing your bare ass to the cool air of the washroom. he pulls your panties down and runs a finger against your slick cunt. "so wet. all for me, baby, this pussy is mine." you moan at the contact against your heat "mmh~ all y-yours daddy~ please...~" you beg as he continues teasing you. he smirks and shoves a finger in your hole. "please what babe? gotta beg properly" you moan at the sudden sensation. "p-please!~" he shoves a second finger into you. his fingers are huge but still dont compare to his huge dick. "cmon babe, that wont do." he taunts as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. "fuckfuckfuck, daddy want you to fuck me, pleaseee please~" you begged hard, nothing mattered to you, you just needed to be filled up. he chuckled lowly "alright alright, so needy for me babydoll" he aligned himself at your entrance and slowly, inch by inch, he entered you. he groaned as you tightened around him, you always did because no matter how many times you fuck, you can never get used to his girth. he groans and kisses your ear before whispering "taking me so well darling" you blush, always feeling on top of the world from ushijimas praise. slowly and carefully, he begins moving. wet, sinful sounds fill the area of the bathroom as ushijima fucks you. he keeps his hands on your waist, holding you up because your legs start to go weak from him. "daddy~ s-so good baby~" you moan as you suck him in. he continues to ram into you, until he finally hits your gspot. your moans grow louder as he continues hitting you in the perfect spot. "honey i~ nngh - fuck n-need to cum!" you whine as he fucks you relentlessly. he groans in response "fuck, me too" he throws his head back, in bliss from the pleasure. "w-want you to cum inside daddy please~" you hear him chuckle a bit, but his pace doesn't falter. "fuck. gonna fill you up and make you a mommy again hah~" you shut your eyes and moan blissfully before orgasming on his dick, feeling his cum shoot inside you.

you pant and your legs wobble, but ushijima turns you around and picks you up. he leans in and kisses you sweetly before cleaning you you up. "did such a good job for me baby" he kisses your forehead as he puts you down and makes sure to hold you close as you exit the bathroom. this definitely wouldn't be the last time you went out with him again <3

#anime #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyu #haikyuu #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima smut #ushijima haikyuu

206 notes · View notes

milfmuses · 2 years

Text

First Fic! Larissa Weems x pregnant reader

A/N: Hi there! This is my first ever fic and I cannot wait to share my writing! I know it isn’t the best but as a beginner I wanted to try it out. I wrote some Larissa Weems x pregnant reader fluff since I could not find any and I hope that you enjoy <3 Many many thanks and love to @non-binary-frogking for helping me edit!

Larissa Weems x Pregnant Reader

Summary: Larissa comes home after a long day to a pregnant reader and soft fluff ensues!

Warnings: brief nsfw (no smut), fluffiest fluff, pregnancy

Larissa trudged through the front door, finally home from Nevermore; Exhaustion plastered on her face. A new school year has just begun, leaving Larissa stressed with seemingly nonstop orientations and parent conferences. She let out a deep sigh and placed her work materials on the table gently, heels kicked off towards the door shortly after. Making her way to your shared bedroom, she reminisced about you.

Although she always thought of you throughout the day, today she especially missed you. Those soft eyes that gazed at her half-lidded in lovestruck awe, those adorable pillowy pink lips that she could never pull away from, your soft warm skin that she clung to each night and ran her fingertips over. She craved to hear your laugh that never failed to make her smile, your rambling about your hobbies and favorite things, your sleepy morning voice that makes her heart melt and her body warm. You were her sweet angel and from the day she met you, she vowed to love and cherish you like you were the most precious thing on earth. And to her, you were.

—————

As Larissa strode through the bedroom door, she saw you; and her smile grew instantly. There you were, half asleep, and reading a book that she had just bought for you… with your hand resting on the swell of your belly. She still couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have you, her perfect wife, and the soon-to-be mother of her child. Her giddiness got the best of her and she laughed to herself. Your arm holding the book lowers once you hear Larissa, placing the book onto the nightstand.

“What’s so funny my love? I really missed you today- and thank you for the book! I’m enjoying it quite a bit so far.”

Larissa stepped around the bed to you and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon your lips and smiling into it. Once you break apart she explained the reason for her giggles.

“You just look so precious, my darling. I can’t help but feel so incredibly happy seeing my adorable, pregnant wife.”

At this, your cheeks spread with a rosy blush, and you lowered your head to hide how bashful her words made you. Larissa finds your flustered state rather endearing, overjoyed that she can make you so soft with just her words. She reaches out with her hand and delicately traces your jawline from your ear to your chin.

“None of that sweetheart, let me see those gorgeous cheeks that I just love to make rosy.”

She tilted your head up with her finger, peering into those eyes that she daydreamed about for hours.

“You are so beautiful my dear, thank you again for carrying our child. You are practically glowing, pregnancy fits you quite well. I am so blessed and thankful for you my love.”

Your heart melts as you are overcome with love, so much so that you reach up and hold her cheek in your palm; pulling her into another loving kiss. Larissa moans softly into it, reaching down to place a warm hand on your pregnant stomach. She pulls away and kneels down next to your belly, now having grown massive with only weeks away from your due date. She looks from your belly to your face, watching as you grin down at her.

“Do you mind if I lift your shirt love? I want to give our little angel some kisses if that’s alright, but I wouldn’t want your tummy to be cold.”

You’ve always appreciated the thoughtfulness and care your wife held for you. Larissa may be tall and look intimidating in those heels and professional outfits she wears for work, but deep down she is the most caring and tender woman you’ve ever met.

Her eyes locked onto your face looking for approval, a smile forming when you respond.

“Of course Rissa, please tell her that she needs to stop kicking her poor mama-“ you chuckle lightly “and that if she doesn’t behave, no more stuffies in the nursery!”

Larissa fakes a gasp and turns her head to talk to the growing bundle of joy in your belly.

“Little one, I can’t believe you’ve been so rude to your mother!” she playfully jokes.

She lifts your shirt until it sits just below your breasts and brings her head down to graze the swell of your belly. With a low hum, she whispers into your bump. “Don’t worry my baby girl, I wouldn’t dare deprive you of stuffies; you’ll be too cute to resist.”

Although her whisper was low and hushed, it was still loud enough for you to catch what she was saying.

“Hey! I heard that Rissa. But I have to agree, she’ll be too cute not to spoil.”

“Speaking of spoiling, how about I hold you until you fall asleep? And maybe rub that cute belly of yours?”

“Yes please Rissa, come here I miss you”

“So needy are we? I’m right here darling I’ve got you, let me just put on my pajamas.”

Larissa quickly recovers your belly with your shirt and makes her way to the closet. While she starts to undress, you can’t help but stare at her stunning figure. Pregnancy has made you hormonal and emotional, along with a yearning for your wife’s body constantly.

Too tired to further your desires tonight, you settled for watching her unclip the black lace-patterned bra that held her cleavage. Her soft breasts come to a rest as she tosses the fabric into the hamper. Next to go are her dress pants and that secret thong that only you know she enjoys wearing under it all. She keeps her back towards you and bends while tugging her panties down her smooth pale legs, so long and soft. Your eyes are then glued to her backside in lust and you catch yourself almost drooling at the sight. Only when she turns to you and winks do you stop looking, reddening but not daring to remove your eyes from her. You see the small patch of hair between her legs and can’t help but clench your thighs together. She lifts one leg and then the next, putting on some fleece pants that she knows you love on her. Little does she know, it really accentuates her ass and you go feral when she wears them. Once her shirt is on and she finishes her bathroom routine, she joins you in bed.

—————

She slips in next to you and immediately covers your body with the plush sheets. She places the blankets over you both to the best of her ability since your bump makes it hard to cover you completely. All the while, you are just keeping your eyes on her and feeling so loved, safe, and warm.

“Okay my dove, time for me to hold you. Come here, pretty girl.”

Her voice is quiet and affectionate, making you so comfortable that you feel sleepy. You shift your body towards hers and turn so that your belly presses slightly over and against her side, and your head is lying on her chest. One of your legs extends over hers and your arm wraps around her waist. She coos at you lovingly and brings one arm around to support your back and the other holds your baby, giving large circular rubs with a delicate hand. She places a kiss on the top of your head and begins to whisper down to you.

“My two angels, I promise to take care of you both and to love you forever. My sweet wife, you are truly my soulmate. I cannot wait to raise our beautiful baby girl with you. Rest now my darlings, time for you to sleep.”

Your eyes grew heavy as the warmth of her body and her words lured you into a state of security and comfort that only she brings.

“I love you so much Rissa, you are my everything.”

“I love you too dove, sweet dreams.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #pregnant #larissa weems x pregnant reader #weems #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x y/n #gwendoline christie #wlw #lesbian #gwendoline christie x reader #fluff #larissa weems fluff #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems oneshot

472 notes · View notes

st-armand · 1 year

Text

Author’s Notes: Ha, yall thought that the Plug!Hobie fic was gunna be posted first, gotta keep yall on your toes. I finished this first so here it is <3 Also any content by me about Hobie his age is 21-24. Im also looking for people to beta read.

CWs: Mention of piercing gone wrong, suggestive, stealing, not beta read

Random Hobie Brown Headcanons

He has/had more piercings, notably a pair of sub-clavicle piercings, a belly piercing and nipples piercings (I know other people headcanon him as having a prince albert, but god I know that shit hurts so we’ll be skipping for now). He took those out because they kept getting caught in the frayed fabrics of his clothing, and especially worse his spider suit.

His final straw was amidst fighting a foe, he sustained several injuries, but he was horrified looking at the ripped skin of his clavicle, frantically looking for the bar and the flesh still attached, he did, but it was deep in the crevices of his suit and didn’t find it until after repairing it.

That was enough to get rid of all his torso piercings.

Hobie is extremely anal retentive when it comes to the upkeep of his piercings though, every night, maybe except those he’s really incapacitated from battle. He spends so much time in the morning carefully soaking q-tips in saline to clean the puncture holes, if he can take the jewelry out to let it soak in peroxide for a few hours.

You both fight over the real estate of the sink and its mirror, until you ask (threaten) him to get you a vanity so you both can have space to get ready, he does and its gorgeous; a vintage one he found abandoned on a side street.

But this doesn’t stop him taking up vanity space.

“Feel pretty sitting here luv”

Hobie is of Jamaican heritage, I headcanon that his grandmother is his only living relative, and he dedicates so much time taking care of her in her old age, despite their arguments about Hobie being able to be free, and not held down by family. She knows she won’t have many years left, and she may want to embrace him in her love for these final years, but she also doesn’t want him to feel a great heartbreak at the loss.

That being said he visits her every few days, stopping by for some beef patties, jerk chicken, curries of all kind, taking home the bulk containers of sorrell and ginger beer, Grandma Brown doesn’t question how her lanky streetlight grandson has gotten so strong and fit over the last few years, or how he’s able to take the large crates back to his flat.

She has her suspicions and theories, but she would rather not pry if it could end in harm for the both of them.

When he’s off being spiderman, or doing shows and odd jobs, you take up the mantle, visiting Grandma Brown and aiding her around the home, Grandma Brown gets to sit back comfortably as you take over cleaning and seasoning the chicken, she trusts you to remember all the ingredients she uses to make Hobie feel like he’s still a child with how nostalgic the food makes him.

She genuinely loves having you around, but she also loves to tease her grandson, “Don’t know what you see in that boy, he should kiss the ground you walk on darling,”

And that’s not to say he doesn’t. The undercurrent of his unruffled attitude, is an adoration for you, he loves you in a way he can’t even put into words for his songs. He thanks whatever cosmic source there is for dropping you in his lap, like a starved dog given shelter, and cared for the rest of its life.

Sometimes you catch him staring at you deeply, teasing the inside of his lip piercing with his tongue causing it to wiggle around, youre locked into his penetrating gaze, you feel critically wounded by his affection, it always comes in sudden frothing sea waves, cooling your body, leaving you to yearn for the warmth of the sun that is his love.

Hobie isn’t the type of punk to wear sexually suggestive clothing, but he does use riskier photos of you or the both of you, faces obscured or cropped, and edited heavily with grain to make it look vintage, he takes them to a vendor he works with closely for band merch and has them screen print the design on shirts for the both of you, loves wearing them during concerts especially to ward off erratic fans.

You let Hobie pester you about getting a piercing, which you know you can’t handle the pain for, but you humor him.

“Luv ya need some metal on that leng face of yours” He’ll say every few weeks, despite knowing the answer, insanity is doing the same thing knowing the results won’t change, Hobie’s fine with being insane if it means maybe one day your resolve will crack and he can see you two with matching jewelry.

He often ponders about what gems and metals would look best, the color, the shape, the size, and how all these can complement that enticing face of yours.

Steals you clothes (duh not original, but considering my taste of clothes…), and I don’t mean a few pieces here and there, he actively searches for things that will compliment your wardrobe, and in the span of a few months together your closet has doubled in size.

One day you say you’re interested in latex, he’s going to barter with some craftsperson to get you a few items to experiment with, maybe a few gloves.

You say you want to be corporate goth (I don’t see people ever adding corp goth to their alternative reader fics) ? He’s nicking the most gorgeous pants and skirt suits he can find, getting accessories and sitting beside you as you customize the outfits together.

Like high fashion, Thierry Mugler or VW? He has no problems with linking up with Black Cat to get into stock warehouses and design studios to steal some, Black Cat teases him by saying ‘You owe me for this bug.’ But she gets compensation by nicking a bunch of clothes for herself.After the fact they bound off in separate directions carrying webbed satchels of merchandise.

You know he stole them, in fact youre proud he was able to do it with ease.

(He doesn’t tell you Black Cat helped him, you wrongly assume they are attracted to each other, but Black Cat is actually a lesbian, he’s seen her in costume as a spectator of a dyke march parade under the guise of ‘watching out for the community’, he doesn’t tell her he’s seen her sneaking off into a civilian woman’s apartment, he’s happy to keep the city safe enough for everyone to nurture love.)

You wear these outfits with pride, sauntering down the street as an orchestra of gawks, and stares fills the area, blown away by the complexities of the outfit, and attention to detail to every complimentary aspects of the look, the essence of slay cunt one could say.

When Hobie’s there walking alongside you, he lets a hand glide to your lower back, urging you to walk faster, whispering into your ear,

“Walk faster luv, don’t you wanna give them a show?”

And scene. Hope yall enjoyed these, I aint great at british slang so be patient and give tips!

Comments, questions, criticisms? Let me know!

Request are OPEN

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie headcanons #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown x black!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

164 notes · View notes

alluralater · 10 months

Note

Reading the recent anon about the person at the club in the bathroom reminded me of something recent that happened and I was like this is actually so yummy Siren would love to hear about this.

Anyway I work at a club as a bar bitch and I’m very used to people flirting with me trying to get drinks or my number etc and a lot of the time I think it’s really fun to flirt back, I’ve never given out my number to a customer because none of them have been worthy lmao. A person comes up to the bar that night and they are gorgeous! Dark hair, bright eyes, taller then me (I’m 5’10) and they are muscular and have this smile that instantly attracted me to them. The first few times she comes up to the bar she’s very shy and doesn’t talk much but she’s looking at me so intensely as I make drinks and flirt with the customers and I hear her tell her friends she’s ruining me tonight if she gets the chance and I told all my coworkers there was no way I would go there. After a little bit it’s getting late in the night and I’m starting to offer people water between drinks and when I get to her she introduces herself and says she doesn’t need the water because she’s“not a pussy when it comes to drinking”. I say “Suit yourself darling but good girls drink water” and she downs half a pitcher of water without saying anything else. 15 minutes later she’s back at the bar and she’s really flirty by now. I tell her I’ve got my eye on her as they order 2 more drinks and then she’s telling me that’s good cause she’s had her eye on me all night. She stays all the way to the end of the night and was even trying to help me clean at closing time and then she left and got a cab home.

The next night I was out drinking at the bar I work at and she’s there again and we dance and flirt all night and I asked to kiss her and she told me to have patience so I offer to drive her home. The second we’re in my car she’s sucking my pulse point, I’m pulling her hair and begging to let me touch her and the next thing I know is I’m gagging on her dick in the back of my car. She’s telling me to play with her tits and she’s so vocal and loud telling me what to do and what feels good and begging to fuck me. She had condoms and I said yes and suddenly she was lifting me onto her lap and she told me how wet I was and starts fingering me and rubbing circles on my clit telling me how good I look and sound. AllI can do is moan because she’s so skilled with her fingers and she looks so good while she’s telling me to let go for her. After making me cum twice she finally let me ride her and she was talking the whole way through it and all I could do is listen to her and do as she said and my brain felt so fuzzy because everything she did felt so good. It was like every area our skin touched was tingling. I kept stopping and making her just feel me around her while asking if she wanted me to move and I wouldn’t move until she was squirming beneath me and begging, she kept saying my name which for some reason made it so much hotter “don’t stop A. Fuck A you feel so good. Look at me filling you up A don’t you just look so beautiful. God A do that again, please A please that felt so good do it again for me.”. I think we spent 3 hours in the back of my car before I dropped her home and then I went home and fucked myself while thinking about how hot it was.

Now that I’ve thought about it again I think I’m gonna have to get myself off again because the memories of it get me so fucking hot and bothered.

okay i am speechless this was so hot, shut up. god i love car sex. something about being in tight spaces with someone and having so many surfaces to grab and be pressed into. please tell me you got her number and you'll see her again sometime. bar girl will be immortalized on my blog in the form of your ask

thanks for sharing <3

#asks #anons #excuse me you were so right. i loved this

64 notes · View notes

sleepy-wyvern · 1 year

Text

Billy Hargrove x Female!Reader (SMUT CHAPTER 4)

Image 1, Image 2

Chapter: 4/4 (THE SMUT IS HEREEE) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. AO3 link here

Summary: Billy pursues an uninterested reader trying to gain her adoration. When reader finds her crush kissing someone else that's when she realizes her feelings are towards the wrong guy.

THE SMUT IS HEREEEEEEEEEEE

TW/CW: persistent flirting, cigarettes, marijuana, violent threat (not towards reader), unprotected sex

This fic only contains characters that are 18+ and will contain smut, as such 18+ readers only, minors absolutely DNI

For the lovely @strangelysupernatural ! Thanks so much dolly for challenging me to write this fic about Billy! It was super intimidating but I'm so glad I did it.

Tip toeing across the hardwood floor made it feel like you were hiding from someone, even though there was no one home. Your heart pounded in your chest as he led you to his room, your eyes grazing over his weights as you passed by.

Your eyes peer around his bedroom as you fold your arms nervously.

“This is it,” Billy smiled, holding his arms out in display. He wore a smirk as he gestured, discarding his jean jacket.

He moved to his dresser that had a bottle of alcohol, you weren’t sure what. He had mentioned it but the words were already lost to you. He already had taken two glasses with ice from the kitchen when you arrived, placing them down.

“It’s nice,” You comment while looking around.

You moved to his bed, sitting down at the edge trying to calm your nerves as you watched him pour the drinks. You smoothed your skirt nervously.

He smiled gently when he turned, noticing your unease. He handed you the drink you gladly accepted. The taste was strong and sour, sending fire down to your stomach. Somehow it helped make being in the same room as this gorgeous man a little easier.

“So, come here often?,” he says, stepping back and leaning against his dresser.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “is that how you get all the ladies?”

He shook his head, “not you, clearly."

"Well," you bit your lip looking down at your legs before continuing. "I thought you were different."

He nodded tapping his finger against his glass, "and how did you know I was different? Different from your different." He grinned playfully.

"Well," you tapped a finger on your chin, "When you caught up to me in the hall. I realize all this," you gestured to him making him chuckle. "It's just a show to get all the ladies."

"Well, clearly that didn't work. You definitely didn’t make it easy for me.”

“Why would I do that?” You smiled back playfully, “then you’d stop chasing.”

“I’ll chase you until the end of time,” his voice was lower and silkier now as he looked deep into your eyes, “if you’ll let me.”

“Depends,” your breath caught in your throat as you laid your drink on his night stand. “What are you going to do when you finally catch me?”

He looked at you, the corner of his lip turning upward ever so slightly as if he was keeping a secret. He had that look in his eyes, the look that he was completely obsessed with you. He tapped his fingers against the wooden surface of the dresser, clearly delaying the answer for your anticipation.

“I’ll bring you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt, darling, if you let me.” His bright blue eyes were darting between yours trying to read your expression.

You were excited but a small part of you was afraid. You had never been with someone like Billy before. Not this confident, not this sexy. Perhaps he sensed your fear as he stepped forward, expression soft.

“I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to. Tell me to stop and I will.” He reassured you.

His eyes somehow seemed larger with his gentle expression. He was so different than you expected, since that day you met in the cafeteria. Looking into his blue eyes you could tell it was real, really him standing in front of you.

“I want to. I just…” You trail off breaking eye contact nervously. “I’m not exactly… experienced. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He brought a hand to your face, very gently giving you the opportunity to step back if you were uncomfortable. Instead you leaned your face into his rough, strong hand. After a moment you reluctantly looked back at him, your faces inches away.

“You can never disappoint me, no matter what so long as I’m with you. We can call it a night here and I’d be perfectly happy.” His voice was thick with concern as he looked into your eyes.

“No-“ you say rather too quickly, “I want to. Please.”

He smiled softly at your eagerness, glancing down at your lips.

Suddenly you closed the gap that was between your lips. You let yourself fall to the taste of sweet tobacco and mint, the smell of spicy musk and expensive cologne.

“Whatever my queen desires,” he chuckled slightly as he pulled back for air, making you blush. You were thankful he kept his hand on your cheek, otherwise you didn’t know how you could keep steady.

“I desire you,” you found yourself whispering into him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, running his warm thumb along your cheek.

“Yes,” the word never sounded so sweet.

Your body whimpered as he rescinded his touch. As he stepped back you watched him curiously, wondering what he was doing.

Billy stood looking at you, deep in your eyes undoing the clasp of his belt with one hand. The other held his drink and somehow avoided spilling while doing the maneuver. The belt dropped to the floor with the metal hitting the floorboards with a slight clang. Your attention was drawn to his peach coloured lips that were parted ever so slightly while your heart pounded.

He placed the glass onto his nightstand before dipping his fingers into his drink and you wondered what he was doing until he brought an ice cube to his mouth.

“Lay down for me,” he rolled the ice cube over his tongue as he spoke, looking into your eyes with his softer yet demanding ones.

You obliged, spreading your legs as you watched him lift his white shirt over his head, heart pounding so loud you wondered if he could hear it too. You couldn’t help but admire his chest while he leaned over you and you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed he didn’t stop at your hips, instead he approached your face. He hovered over you with muscles flexed and toned. Hesitantly you reached your hands up and touched the warm skin of his biceps.

He brought his mouth down to yours and you gasped at his cold lips. Suddenly you realised what the ice was for as your lips parted and your tongue met his. The sweet cold sensation of his tongue was so new and filled you with ecstasy mixed with sparks.

While you were kissing his rough fingertips starting sneaking up your thighs, making you shiver as your entrance started to soak.

He pulled back sooner than you’d like but he had other plans unbeknownst to you. Keeping his blue eyes locked onto yours, he moved down to your skirt, pulling your panties down over your legs. He was slow and gentle with the maneuver, sure to drag out every step as a way to make you want it even more.

Everywhere his fingers went filled you with sparks so intense you felt dizzy. His hands ran down your legs until finally he balled your panties in his fist, throwing them to the floor. Your wetness sent a chill through your body, one filled with lust.

He moved to your cunt as your body tensed anticipating the first contact. His lips were cool against your entrance as he kissed you, his hands moved to hold your thighs knowing you were about to squirm. Sure enough his strong grip held you down to the ecstasy of the cold ice and his tongue.

It didn’t take him long to find your clit as he explored your body, your soft moan and nearly bucking legs was a dead giveaway. His arm muscles tensed in a delicious way you admired, just making the experience even more pleasurable.

The soft dirty blonde curls of his mullet brushed against your thighs as he eagerly devoured you. His face was rough and scruffy but it added to the mixture of wonderful sensations that made you grip the bed sheets.

You wanted to drink all of him in as you moaned his name, running your fingers greedily through his hair. The cold feeling of his tongue brought on a new delicacy you never knew existed.

His muscles flexed as he held your legs down, his grip on your thighs kept you under his spell of pleasure. Slowly you started climbing that hill of orgasm.

“Please,” you beg, wanting more “Billy, please.”

Hearing his name roll off your tongue thick with lust encouraged him more. The repetitive motion with his tongue made your internal cup of pleasure overflow. Your heart pounded in your ear drums as you moaned from the height of orgasm. You leaned your head back against the mattress with a gasp, limbs feeling numb.

You didn’t even feel the bed move as Billy climbed over you, a delicious smirk on his lips. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, placing a quick kiss above your eyebrow as feeling slowly returned to you.

He laid down on the bed next to you, watching you carefully with a content expression. That’s when you realised he was slowly running his fingers up and down your thighs in a living, soothing motion.

“How was that?” He asked, heavy breath against your neck.

“That was wonderful,” you whispered looking into his eyes.

“You wanna do it again?” He asked, pulling back to look into your eyes with a playful grin.

Your eyes widened, feeling your cunt throbbing again already.

“Yes,” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss.

He hungrily kissed you back, tongues meeting in a heated embrace. You pulled back sooner than he’d like but waited to see what you had to say.

“This time I want all of you.”

Before he had time to speak you moved your hand over his bare chest, sliding down to the waistband of his jeans. His breath was heavy against your face, catching in anticipation. Your hands fumbled with the button on his jeans, undoing them sloppily. He was already bulging for you, clearly from watching you squirm in pleasure earlier.

You felt a little more confident as you unzipped his fly, quickly moving your hand to feel the hard bulge of his cock through his boxers. You felt his unsteady breath against your neck as he planted sweet kisses.

He let you push his shoulder down, laying his back against the mattress, popping himself up against the pillow with an expression of interest and excitement. He let you take the lead, and you loved every second of it.

Eagerly you moved your fingers underneath his boxers and the moment your gentle fingers touched his cock he let out a gasp. You pulled him free from the confines of his boxers as you lowered your body down.

His hands moved to your head, running through your hair as you hovered his tip. You started with gentle quick licks and kisses that turned deeper while he let out gasps, leaning against the pillow.

You could tell it took all of his strength to not plush your head down onto his cock. You figured you had teased him enough though, and with the next kiss you pushed him slowly into your mouth. His hands froze as he savoured the feeling of sliding over your tongue. You gripped his thigh as he slid further into you, close to the gagging point.

“Fuck, y/n,” he whispered.

You slide him in and out over your tongue as he grips onto you until it was too much.

“Y/n,” He warned with a growl, “I’m getting closer.”

You took that as your cue to lift your lips off of him with a smile.

“Oh but that’s the best part,” you teased, “I’m saving that for somewhere else.”

He took the hint eagerly as he sat up, “lay down for me.”

You laid back against the soft pillow, letting yourself take in the remaining warmth that his body left along with the scent of his cologne. You savoured the comforting feeling while he was discarding his jeans and boxers to the floor.

The butterflies inside you fluttered wildly at the sight of him now on top of you, looking down at you filled with desire.

He moved one hand to the rim of your shirt, “may I?” He asked politely.

You giggled a little at his politeness but respected it “you may.”

Deftly he moved his fingers of one hand to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra. To say you were impressed was an understatement. You shimmied out of your bra and blouse, before you knew it the cold room air was against your skin giving you goosebumps.

“Wow,” he said looking down at you with a smirk “you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You blushed, stuttering flustered “you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” He smiled, moving to kiss your lips sweetly.

You felt his soft curls against your chin as he trailed kisses down your collar bone, slowly moving to your breasts. Your body shuddered as he reached your nipple. Meanwhile his free hand was sliding underneath the elastic band of your skirt.

“Are you ready?” He whispered.

“Yes,” the word came out as a whimper you hadn’t meant it to. He seemed to like it as you watched goosebumps rise over his skin.

You trailed your index finger over his shoulder, exploring every inch of his muscles. Heat rose from his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, feeling a nervous excitement while he lined his tip up with your entrance.

Your body shivered as he slowly pressed between your folds, your lower lips throbbing against him. His breath was shaken and unsteady as he looked up at you to read your face. The way his curls danced and facial hair moved with his expression sent waves of electricity through you.

You nodded breathlessly to him and wondered if he could feel the shudders. That’s when he slowly started to push into you further, your body tensing against the mattress. He stopped and let out a gasp as you adjusted to the new pressure.

“You okay?” He asked intently, looking down at you with concern.

“Yeah, keep going,” you assured moving a hand through his hair.

He pushed in further ever so slowly, letting your body adjust once again. A pleasurable smile was plastered on your lips that you couldn’t shake, you wanted him so bad. You let out a soft moan that made him shiver as he was finally fully inside. You savoured the moment letting your body relax again as you ran your hand along the muscles of his chest.

“Keep going,” you urge again.

Wordlessly he obliges, pulling out ever so slightly before slowly pushing back in. This time he was a bit faster making your lip quiver at the heated pressure. Still, you wanted more.

“Faster,” you demanded, making him chuckle slightly at the urgency in your voice. You didn’t care, you needed more friction.

Slowly he started to speed up, thrusting faster and faster until he was pounding against your throbbing cunt. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting him closer and closer, feeling the ripple in his muscles as he fucked you.

When he slowed to a stop you were disappointed as you watched him gasp for air. He stayed inside you while he grabbed a free pillow, lifting your ass up he placed it beneath you. You raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

“Trust me,” he smirked, rolling his tongue over his lips as his body returned to yours.

This time when he started thrusting it felt different, deeper and better. When he sped up that’s when you felt him hit that wonderful g-spot. Your loud moan gave you away as he chuckled.

“There we go,” he whispered before continuing, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

His thick cock was quickly taking you up the trail of your second orgasm.

“Oh Billy,” you moaned, “please don’t stop.”

His body tensed above you at your pleading and his rhythm didn’t waiver. His thrusts bring you closer and closer to that peak you were searching for until his cock pushed you over the edge, your toes curling into the soft bed sheets.

“Good girl,” he purred sweetly between laboured breaths.

He stopped himself from holding back as he continued thrusting, your body still numb with euphoria.

“Inside,” you demanded, looking up at him with a sweet expression he couldn’t deny.

It didn’t take long for you to feel his body shudder as released his cum into you. His hot breath tickled your neck as he nuzzled into you sweetly with your arms wrapped around his back. Trailing your fingers over his goose prickled skin you took comfort in the heat that rose from his body above you.

He laid on his side next to you, snaking his arm underneath your neck. Slowly your body relaxed as you melted into him.

He held you tightly with his strong arms and that’s when you knew he’d never let you go. He had won the chase and frankly, you couldn’t have been happier.

===

tag list: @alienthings my lovely loons 💙 & my new followers @littlestarfighter03 @chiimiki thanks so much for all of your support! annnnnnd my lovely muse @taintedcigs this was the fic I was telling you about!!

Thanks so much everyone for reading I hope you enjoyed this little Billy challenge! Reminder my requests are OPEN!

-Wyv

💙💙💙💙

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female!reader #stranger things billy #stranger things billy hargrove #stranger thing billy hargrove smut

177 notes · View notes