#the time i needed help with benefits and my manager told me there was no general hr number i could call and also i wasn't eligible....

[youre-only-gay-once]

the librarians episode where they try to go to human resources but end up in a labyrinth is so real. companies WILL make you fight the minotaur instead of letting you go to hr.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[comicaurora]

How do you manage to motivate yourself when you're feeling tired or depressed?

Usually I try to give myself time to rest until those feelings lessen, since they're generally symptomatic of having pushed too hard, but on occasions where tiredness seems to be getting a little too cozy with depression, there's a few things I do.

I've observed in myself a habit of sort of… waiting in a holding pattern for something to push me into action. "Something" isn't defined clearly, but it becomes a real problem on depressed or low-executive-function days. This might just BE what low executive function feels like, tbh; like there's some invisible trigger and I can't Do The Thing until something trips it. When I notice I'm stuck in a holding pattern, I have a few tricks to snap myself out of it:

Flip a coin. Heads I get up and Do The Thing, tails I don't. The simple act of challenging myself is enough to motivate me sometimes, regardless of the outcome, but sometimes this makes me realize that I am legitimately tired, so I stay put and recharge a little until I want to flip for it again.

Set a five- or ten-minute timer and do whatever I need to do until the timer runs out. An artificial deadline can bypass the holding pattern. Sometimes this gives me momentum, and when the timer runs out I keep going. Sometimes this does NOT build momentum, and I crash after the timer runs out - but I crash with five more minutes of progress done. Any progress is better than no progress.

Assume Direct Control. This one only works sometimes, but sometimes it's as simple as breaking down a list of individual units of tangible progress - Get Off Of Bed, Put On Pants, Plug In Tablet, Etc Etc - and just grab the manual controls in my brain and make myself do each thing in turn. Sometimes I'll assume direct control to make myself take a Stupid Mental Health Walk, which has thus far worked every time to improve my mood and energy even though when I am in a Low Mood the last thing I want to do is subject myself to the mortifying ordeal of wearing pants and dealing with people.

I also find that sometimes it's helpful to pull the thread of what you're waiting for. Sometimes I'll realize I've locked myself into a weird paralysis because I've accidentally made something a prerequisite for other tasks. For example, I might realize I'm feeling weirdly frozen and uncomfortable because I haven't taken out the trash, and I've told myself I can't do X Y and Z until the trash is taken out, but I don't want to take out the trash, so I've locked X Y and Z behind Unpleasant Task in a subconscious attempt to motivate myself to Do The Task but instead I've just dramatically reduced the number of things I feel I can do. Often just noticing this pattern is enough to break out of it.

I also find that sometimes the invisible trigger I'm waiting for is just waiting to want to do something. That is unfortunately a trap. There are many things you can enjoy or benefit from without wanting to do them beforehand, because the thought of it is unpleasant or scary or anxiety-inducing or otherwise loaded down with what-ifs and caveats. I will never WANT to have a doctor's appointment, but I feel very good AFTER arranging and going to one. I very rarely WANT to exercise, but after the fact I feel very rewarded and more confident in my abilities. I've only WANTED to go on like a third of the walks I've taken this year, but every single one of them has been pleasant and beneficial to my mental health. Sometimes you just gotta say "I don't WANT to do it, but I'll be glad I did it" and manually pilot yourself into Doing It.

[babygorewhore]

I’m in control

Cooper Adams x fem reader

Working at an arena definitely had its benefits. Getting free concert tickets and discounts for family members. Your employers prepare you for the arrival of the famous serial killer the Butcher but you have no idea how close he actually is.

Warnings! Light thigh riding! Fingering! Finger sucking! Age gap! Reader is mid twenties and he’s in his mid forties! Requested by anon! W.C 1.3k

Yall I saw this movie and I’m obsessed with him. Sorry not sorry. Be gentle this is my first fic with him and I think maybe the first one with this character.

“Don’t forget I won’t be able to take you home until everyone is gone and everything is cleaned up!” You call after your younger sister. Her recent graduation of high school rewarded her a up close and personal experience at this concert. She waves off your reminder as you roll your eyes and stand around the VIP area.

You didn’t mention to her that today was supposed to be the arrest of the serial killer The Butcher. It gave you shivers to hear about his crimes during your staff meetings. Preparation for any sort of confrontation brought tension to your shoulders all day as you worked. This job supported you in nursing school and gave you access to concerts. It was a win win.

You sighed and watched people walk by. Every male was to be stopped and questioned by the police. It was dull if you were being honest. It was going to be a while before you were able to leave so you decided to kill some time in a private room.

You blinked in surprise when you opened the door to see a man already in there. He was tall, really tall and muscular. Wearing a sweater, yellow jacket and jeans. You had seen him briefly earlier with a teenage girl, assuming it was his daughter. He was roughly in his forties you guessed. Handsome. Very handsome. Enough to give you awkward pause before you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, sir. This is for employees only. Can I help you with something?” You tried to keep your voice steady as he loosened a huff of laughter.

“Ah, I’m sorry I know I’m not allowed to be back here. But I have to be honest. The police are making me nervous. My daughter she was really looking forward to this concert and I’m just worried for her safety.”

His tone seemed genuine but there was a darkness in his brown eyes that made you feel alert. You nodded slowly as he took a step forward with a gentle smile. “So…have they caught him yet?”

Your pulse quickens and you part your lips to answer but the stranger chuckles again.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on, sugar. I know they’ve given every employee the rundown of the big scary Butcher. And I can tell you’re just…aching to tell someone what you know.” When he said the word, “aching.” He glanced down at your legs.

“Sir, I-i really don’t-“ He clicked his tongue, resting both hands on either side of your head, you could smell his cologne from his close proximity as he pressed you against the door.

“No need for formalities, sweetheart. I just want you to answer one question.”

You were afraid and…aroused as he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “How can I avoid the police?”

Your body trembled when he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. What the fuck was happening? You gasped as the stranger’s large hand moved down and cupped your waist.

“I-I don’t know-you can’t avoid them-“ You stutter as he shakes his head, nudging his thick thigh in between your legs. His size was massive as he was holding you up.

“I don’t think that’s true. The tension in your body tells me you’re lying. I’m good at spotting liars, baby.” You whimper as he encourages you to rub your covered cunt on his knee.

“Really, sir I don’t know. I’m not a manager or anything. I’m just a normal worker and we were told to just be careful and use the code word.” You pleaded as he sets both hands on your hips, guiding them to move harder and higher on his thigh. “No, no, there’s nothing normal about you. You know something. You’re smart and you’re going to tell me.” His voice indicated no room for argument and you were too distracted by the coiling in your stomach to argue.

“You’d have to be with the singer. She has to-“You moaned as he finally slipped his hand inside your pants, pushing aside your underwear with a nod. His fingers grazed your clit and you whined as he gave your pussy a smack.

“She has to what? Use your words, baby doll. I know you can do it.”

All common sense left your brain as he worked in two fingers inside you, curling them deep as you panted and leaned your head back. You had no idea what was happening, who this guy was or why he wanted to know. But you lost yourself and whined.

“She has to tell them you’re with her. She has her own security so-you’ll be clear-oh god.” You squealed as he gripped your chin, continuing to fuck you with his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Very good. I’ve had…a long day. And I just can’t waste any more time with the fucking police.” He whispered, hovering over your mouth.

Your climax was nearing as he shoved his fingers impossibly deeper, almost painfully but he balanced it by massaging your clit with his thumb. Your eyes watered as he wrapped the hand holding your chin around your throat.

That sent you over the edge as you came all over his fingers. Your entire body heated as you moaned and dug into his shoulders as he fingered you through it.

Slowly, you came down from your high and breathed heavily as he slowly pulled out his hand. The stranger brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, shoving them in as he forced you to suck them clean. Your eyes were wide and teary as you stared at his dark smile.

“Thank you so much for your help. It’s nice to see employees taking their job seriously.” He smoothed his hair back as you shook. He removed his fingers and gently side stepped you.

He opened the door and you inhaled while blinking away any left over shock. “Wait! You didn’t even tell me your name!”

The man stopped and turned around. Horror chilled your blood as he gave you a wink and started walking away. You knew in that moment exactly who you just helped.

The Butcher.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @redhead1180 @nemesyaaa @oceandriveab @gothcsz @sararuno @horrorpiggy @lovalova444

[bloatedandalone04]

The Only Reason

➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.

Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)

Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited. 

Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it. 

Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to. 

If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed. 

Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing. 

Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case.  “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”

Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you. 

It wasn’t even worth it. Ada. 

He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you. 

It really wasn’t. 

He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his. 

Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone. 

As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home. 

He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living. 

Four months. 

It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you. 

“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”

Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”

He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here. 

And he wanted to see you so badly. 

“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”

He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room. 

All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze. 

You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings. 

Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by. 

You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him. 

Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?” 

Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards. 

Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”

Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan. 

Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now. 

Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen. 

Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” 

Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be. 

That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy. 

“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips. 

Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”

He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”

Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”

“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,” 

“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”  

You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,” 

Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.

While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had. 

All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be. 

Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you. 

He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking. 

But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.

An apology would be a good place to start, right?

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”

He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.” 

You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”

“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.” 

You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”

Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”

Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth. 

He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”

Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too. 

At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes. 

What if….for just one more night…what if.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.” 

Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.

“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”

He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Just one more night. 

You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were. 

Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this. 

Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own. 

He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different. 

Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be. 

His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that. 

Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it. 

Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth. 

Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.” 

You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”

It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”

“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”

He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”

You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself. 

You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada. 

 Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope. 

A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago. 

As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”

You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,” 

Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”

You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”

Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back. 

He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago. 

It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish. 

He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist. 

Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it. 

But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite. 

He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted. 

Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out. 

“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.” 

Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time. 

Maybe he didn’t have to.  

You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place. 

He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.

“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house. 

Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head. 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”

Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,” 

And it was the truth. 

And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall. 

You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again. 

Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”

Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”

Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered. 

Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”

“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”

Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”

You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore. 

You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again? 

You couldn’t take much more. You knew that. 

“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”

Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”

He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”

“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”

You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”

“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again. 

You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”

Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”

He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point. 

But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”

[princessmisery666]

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  

“That hurt?” he asks. 

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile. 

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 

“Hey, hi,” you answer. 

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 

“Yeah, sure, okay.” 

“You okay?” 

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 

“They seem like a good bunch.” 

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.” 

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 

“Good for them.” 

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

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/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

[gravehags]

destroying all (and make them want it again)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: copia holding reader hostage for marathon fucking, copia being our favorite little sex freak, office sex, blowjobs, terzo being terzo, reader becoming more satanic every day :)

Words: 2,848

Summary: You'd think after almost three days of being held hostage by your perverted lover, you'd have tired of his touch. You'd think.

a/n: i for one would really benefit from being locked up in bed with copia for days like i really think i deserve that

~~~

By the time Copia allows you to stumble out of his quarters two days after your fateful visit you are delightfully, deliciously sore.

You had no idea he’d be so…voracious. Your mild-mannered awkward Cardinal had you bent over and spread on every surface in his apartment, multiple times, drawing words out of you that you never dreamed of saying. He wasn’t a cruel kidnapper either - sporadically he would leave the apartment and return to you bearing sustenance from the dining hall. Your favorite was lounging nude on his mussed sheets while he dutifully and adoringly fed you plump purple grapes, kissing you in between bites. The thought stirs your heart as you open your apartment door and stumble inside to your bedroom to collapse face down on the duvet. You groan as you hike one leg up, the beautiful ache of being thoroughly used emanating from your core and into your muscles. You’re about to throw yourself in the shower when your phone vibrates.

Miss you already bellezza mia xx

You sigh.

Miss you more <3

I could…come over?

You laugh out loud, shaking your head.

You dog! You’re relentless. I haven’t showered in days, I feel filthy.

I could help you feel filthier ;)

Copia! Not that I’m opposed to the idea but my girl needs a break, per favore. You’ve worn her out.

Mi dispiace amore, she’s just so plump and willing and perfect for me, I can’t help myself.

Speaking of your girl, she’s stirring to attention at the thought of where this conversation is going and your fingers hover over the screen, tempted, before shaking your head.

You’re welcome to come over but no funny business. Might show my face in the dining hall to prove I’m still alive if you’re interested in meeting me there.

There’s a pause and your phone vibrates.

I’ll meet you at dinner and see if I can’t persuade her. Ti amo <3

Love you

When the two of you meet up a couple hours later at your usual table in the dining hall you garner more than a few curious looks. Rather than taking his typical spot across from you, instead he elects to sit next to you. You’re midway through a forkful of vegetarian lasagna when you feel the slide of leather clad fingers along your thigh. When you slowly turn your head, Copia’s shit-eating grin pans into view and you drop your fork, unamused.

“Really? In front of my lasagna?”

He gives you a creepy nod, still holding his smile and the sight has you bringing a fist to your mouth to stifle your laughter. Reaching down you grab one of his fingers and bend it back slightly as a warning.

“Ah, my amore would never hurt–ah!”

He cradles his hand to his chest and gives you a pout unbefitting a man of his distinguished age and position.

“Told you,” you say, shoving a bite of lasagna into your mouth then pointing at him with your fork, “no funny business.”

“Oh she’s cruel,” he laments, shaking his head, “La mia crudele, bella padrona. She would watch me wither away, never to feel her touch–”

“Oh come on, Copia, you held me hostage in your bed for almost three days! This is the first real meal I’ve had in literal days please let me–”

“She does not care for me,” he says, somehow managing to give you the most unsettling puppy-dog eyes ever. “She tells me she hates me and she wants me dead.”

“Oh for the love of fuck you cannot be serious,” your cheek rests on your propped up fist, watching this ridiculous display. “I just want to enjoy my lasagna unmolested,” you lower your voice as a sibling walks past, giving the two of you a disgusted once-over, “so naturally that means I hate you. Unholy fuck, if I had known pussy was going to turn you into this I never would have–”

“What kind of fuck?” Copia asks innocently, mustache twitching.

“I–hmm. You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asks, filthy leer returning to his face.

You roll your eyes but can’t smother the smile.

“I’m leaving, Copia,” you announce, standing up. “If you would like to accompany me to bed - for sleep - then you know where to find me. Unbelievable.”

You stomp off and you can feel his eyes on the sway of your ass the entire way out of the room. He does join you, not long after that, the picture of a perfect gentleman as he strokes your hair and places soft kisses to the top of your head. You can’t lie though - a part of you is disappointed he didn’t continue his dirty old man routine but, you think as your eyes drift closed, you really did need to give your poor cunt a break.

The next morning you awaken to an empty space beside you and you’re not surprised. Copia had to wake up early for morning prayer and you’ve been lucky to have had him by your side for as long as you did. You feel his absence acutely - how could you not after days with him? - and it leaves you with a lingering sense of melancholy as you get ready for the day and leave your quarters. The first few hours of your work day passes without incident - typing emails, ordering archival supplies, meeting briefly with Sister Imperator (with whom you can barely make eye contact after shirking your duties to get repeatedly and thoroughly railed by her Cardinal), and continuing on your quest to catalog the Ministry’s extensive art collection. When lunchtime rolls around that unpleasant sadness sits heavy in your belly. Part of you feels ridiculous letting yourself be so affected by well, love, but hey it’s your first time at this, right? Gotta cut yourself some slack. Your heart aches for him but also…other parts of you. You thought for sure after the marathon he just put you through you’d be satisfied for a while but if anything it’s made you even more hungry. When you look up at the clock and realize it’s lunchtime, a low heat begins to simmer in your belly and between your legs. You hesitate before standing up and heading to the door with a grin on your face.

When you approach Copia’s office door and knock softly, you’re met with a muffled “entrare!” and open it to sidle inside. He’s on his old landline with someone he clearly would rather not be speaking to judging from his exaggerated eye-rolls and dismissive hand gestures. You quietly walk up to his desk and try not to laugh as you listen to him desperately try to end the conversation.

“Uh-huh. Yes. Yep. Uh, you too. Okay, goodbye. Good–what? Yes that will be taken care of, of course. Buh-bye. Bye.” Copia slams the receiver down and turns to fix you with a tired stare.

“Long day?” you ask, rounding the desk to lean against it.

“Stressful day, all of a sudden the fundraiser gala is my problem when it should be Terzo’s problem, but where is Terzo? Nowhere to be found, naturalmente. And Saltaria–wh-what are you doing?”

You’re halfway through sinking to your knees next to him when you blink up at him innocently.

“Helping with the stress.”

His jaw falls open and he swallows thickly, eyes on the way you inch up your flowy skirt to expose your spread thighs to his gaze. You place your hands on his knees and he jumps comically.

“Cardinale, you were very thorough in your ah, teachings these past few days however there are some areas we never touched upon.”

“O-oh?”

“Mmm mmhmm,” you confirm, grabbing the end of his black cassock and inching it up his legs. When you reach past his knees and can go no further he lifts himself off the chair and hastily draws the garment to his hips. You smile at the tent in his trousers and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“Missed you this morning,” you murmur, hand coming up to cup the curve of his cock. “Been wanting you so badly all day.”

“T-thought you were eh, sick of my advances?”

You give him a gentle squeeze and smile, resting your cheek on his knee.

“That was yesterday,” you say, finger drawing patterns on his bulge, “And while she might be tired, I certainly am not.”

His gloved hands grip the armrests of his desk chair as you lean forward to slowly unzip his trousers. When you take him out, hard and leaking, he sighs.

“You don’t know how many times I came into this office wanting to do this exact thing,” you confess, hand wrapping around him, “How all you had to do was say the word and I’d be on my knees or bent over that desk.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I-Is that so, amore? So all those times we were in here working, you–”

“--Were thinking about you fucking me raw? Mmhmm.”

Copia lets out a sigh and his head falls against the back of his chair.

“But let’s not think about the past, hmm? All I want to think about right now is you teaching me how you like to fuck my mouth. Okay?”

His hips buck into your touch and he lets out a whine before nodding. Slowly, keeping your eyes on his, you bring your lips to the red, swollen head of him and place a chaste kiss. Pre dampens your lips and you slowly dart your tongue out to taste the salt of him. He exhales shakily and encouraged, you lower yourself once more to drag the tip of your tongue along his slit. His low whimper makes you grin and gently you slide your lips over the head, flattening your tongue underneath him. You want to drag this out as long as possible, delighting in the feel of his heated flesh in your mouth so you suckle at it and moan around him when his gloved hand flies to the back of your head.

“D-dolcezza,” he breathes, burying his fingers in your hair to cup your skull, “Are you s-sure you’ve never done this before?”

You slip him out of your mouth and give him a grin.

“I’m flattered,” you murmur, using your thumb to rub against the vein going down the length of him, “But no. Just watched a lot of porn, honestly.”

He chuffs out a laugh and his head tips back to thunk against the back of his chair.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” you say, “Tell me what you like. Guide me.”

His eyes slip closed and a lazy grin curls his lips.

“Amore you could bite it off and I’d say thank you,” he groans as you lower your lips to suck at the head once more, “But–ah–I want to see what y-your instinct tells you, si?���

When you laugh around him the vibrations make his hips twitch against your mouth, and you take that as permission. Slowly, you slide your lips past the head and down the shaft and you can feel yourself dripping at the way he stretches your mouth. You’re about half way down the length of him and you can feel him petting your hair.

“Bene, amore mio,” he chokes out, “Molto bene. C-can you, eh, take more?”

You’re not sure but you’re willing to try, so you nod as best you can.

“Breathe through your nose, amata,” he sighs and you can feel drool threatening to spill from your lips and tears prick your eyes as you near the base of him. When the head of him prods your throat you swallow around him and the action causes his hips to spasm. Panicked, you jerk backwards - not sliding all the way off but just enough to where you can catch your breath - and you hear him murmuring praise above you.

“Cazzo, so good for me, taking me all the way into that pretty mouth. You’re doing so well for me, bellezza mia.”

His words of encouragement make your clit throb and push you to once again slide your lips down the length of him, dragging your tongue along the underside. This time, when his hips buck into your mouth you’re ready for him, allowing the head to bump the back of your throat as you nose the brown curls between his legs. Gently, the hand in your hair pulls you off him and pushes you back down, and you realize he’s showing you what he likes. 

“Ah, ragazza intelligente mia,” he groans, and you can feel his eyes on you as you begin to bob your head, “My beautiful girl always knows–ah!--what I like. Always–cazzo–so p-perfect for me. J-Just like that. Just like that, amore. J–augh–”

You’ve picked up your pace, the wet sounds between the two of you pornographic as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The hand unoccupied with gripping his cock, slides under your skirt where you find yourself soaked.

“That’s it,” Copia grunts, “Touch yourself, amata mia. L-Let those sweet fingers–hnngh–rub that pretty little clit.”

You do as he asks, moaning sloppily around his cock as you flex your hips into your hand. His grip on your hair tightens as he begins directing the movements of your head once more, fucking up into your throat and making you gag around him.

“Close,” he pants, “So close, a-amore. C-can I cum down your throat? Me lo permetterai? Please, please, please.”

As best you can, you look up at him and make eye contact. You imagine what he must see between his knees - you with your mouth stuffed full of him, mascara running down your cheeks, and your fingers frantically rubbing at your clit under your skirt - and the thought alone makes you cum, moaning around him and your hips bucking. You nod frantically as you continue chasing your own high and with one, two, three thrusts of his hips Copia empties himself in your throat. The way he holds you steady as his cock twitches in your mouth has you clenching around nothing, desperate for more of him. When he removes his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek as he pants wildly, you slowly slide off of him and rest your cheek on his trembling knee. You’re only half aware of the way he tucks himself back into his trousers and gently eases you up by the shoulders to sit in his lap. You brush your thumb along his cheekbone and lean in for a slow, deep kiss. He hums contentedly into your mouth and you pull away with a cheeky grin.

“Like the taste of yourself, amore? Filthy thing.”

He tilts his head back and laughs at your echoing of his words said only days ago during your first time together. You lean in and brush noses with him, moving to kiss him once more when the door flies open to reveal Terzo.

“I am here to discuss the gala fra–oh.”

The Papa’s eyes flick between the two of you and the smeared paints on both your lips.

“Ah, a little afternoon delight for my topolini, huh? Tell me was it on the desk? A classic, I–”

“Fuck off, Terzo,” you say.

His face falls.

“No, you don’t mean that bella. You–”

“She said fuck off, Terzo Emeritus. Now.”

Terzo schools his face into an expression of outrage but you can tell he’s trying desperately not to smile.

“Very well, just don’t come crying to me when Imperator asks why your work isn’t done, huh?”

“You mean your work, sì?” Copia says, giving him a look. Terzo lets out a nervous laugh.

“Ah, yes. Well. Perhaps I’ll just take this–” Terzo says, grabbing a thick manila folder labeled GALA “--and get back to ah, fucking off. Ciao ciao, topolini.”

With a flourish, he’s gone.

“Really should have locked that door,” you muse quietly, “Anyone could have come in.”

“Anyone did come in, amore,” Copia laughs, “But not only did you eh, soothe my worries, you inadvertently got Terzo to do his fucking job. Promise me you’ll come see me at lunch more often, sì?”

“Not just for the blowjobs?” you ask innocently, flicking the jeweled grucifix on his chest.

“Next time it’s your turn,” he says, gloved hand inching your floral skirt up your thigh.

“Hmm well last I checked,” you say, looking at your watch, “It’s only half past noon. Plenty of time for you to eat.”

He grins at you.

“You know Terzo was right,” he says, urging you to stand and hop up on the worksurface in front of him.

“Oh?”

“We have under utilized my desk.”

Your smile splits your face as you spread your legs for him to settle between.

“Good thing I wore a skirt then, hmm?”

He’s already hooking a finger on the gusset of your soaked underwear, pulling it to the side.

“Thank Satan for small mercies.”

“Ave Sathanas,” you sigh as you lie back and let him work his devilry.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you helped him with his dating app, Bradley goes out with a woman who should have snagged his interest. But it's a little hard to pay attention to someone else when he's constantly thinking about you. And it doesn't help that Nat easily calls him out on his crush. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

For a split second on Friday night, you had managed to convince yourself that the sooner you helped Bradley get matched up with someone, the better it would be for you personally. 

You'd be able to stop thinking about him as a hot, single dad and be able to focus on him as the hot, taken dad who you occasionally babysat for. You could still go over and watch Noah when he and his girlfriend went out for a date night, which you wouldn't mind doing at all. 

And that's why you had helped him get his dating app sorted out. Because the sooner you could stop thinking about eating popcorn with him on his couch, both of you in sweats, the better. There was no way that man was interested in you. Sure, he was a little flirty at times. Yeah, he had brushed your cheek when he put the crown back on your head. But it was probably all because he could tell that the babysitter had a crush on him, and he was trying to be nice.

You were surprised to hear from him on Wednesday morning when you were getting out of the shower before class. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Are you available tonight?

God, it hadn't taken long for him to chat with one of the women on the app and get a date set up. 

I'm free. What time do you want me to watch Noah?

You felt your shoulders sag as you got dressed. You needed to chill out. The only thing you should be worrying about later this evening was Noah and studying for your exams. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I'm meeting someone at 6:30. Be here at 6?

Yeah. You would be there. 

When you pulled into his driveway at 5:45, you were happy to see his Bronco was already there. You were also annoyed that Greyson was blowing up your phone. You knew what he wanted, but you had been avoiding him all week. You were beginning to think that this "ex with benefits" arrangement wasn't really working for you. 

After shoving your phone into your bag, you knocked on the front door and called out, "Hi! It's me."

"We're in the kitchen."

You followed Bradley's voice, and when you spotted Noah at the table, his face lit up as he mispronounced your name. You were instantly smiling back, but that didn't last long. Because when you saw Bradley standing at the stove, he was wearing his flight jumpsuit tied low around his waist with a tight, black tee shirt. 

"Hey, Princess," he said, glancing at you over his shoulder. And with just two words and some black fabric, you were a little turned on. 

"How are you two boys doing?" you asked as casually as you could while watching Bradley's biceps stretching his shirt sleeves. 

'Good!" Noah cheered, eating a bowl of dry cereal with his hands. 

"Fine," Bradley replied. "Be a lot better if I had time to go grocery shopping. Thanks for making the spaghetti and meatballs for us." He turned to look at you again, his eyes lingering on your lips. 

"Don't you need to get ready for your date?" you asked, closing the distance between the two of you. 

"Yeah, but I'm starving. Need to eat something before dinner."

You looked at the pan on the stove. "What are you trying to make?"

"Eggs," he replied, turning to look down at you with a small smile. "Trying being the operative word."

"You're useless in here," you told him, pushing him toward the hallway. "Go get ready and I'll make you some eggs." His body was warm and hard, and it was clearly a mistake for you to touch him like this. 

"You don't have to do that," he said, laughing as he pretended you were actually capable of pushing him around. 

"I actually don't know how you managed to survive this long without me," you said, pushing him all the way to his bedroom door before he surrendered. 

"You have a valid point."

You felt buoyant as you walked back to the kitchen and made Bradley an onion and cheese omelet while you sang with Noah. "You want ants on a log?" you asked, tousling his hair. 

"I love them!" he cheered, but when you checked the refrigerator, there were no carrots left. Pretty much the only thing in there was the French vanilla coffee creamer, which instantly made you smile. You took it out and started brewing some coffee in Bradley's fancy coffee maker. 

"Is this for me?" Bradley asked, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt right in front of you and nodding to the omelet. 

"Yep, should hold you over until your actual dinner," you said as he grabbed a fork and took a huge bite.

He moaned. He literally moaned as he ate the food you made for him. You watched him take bite after bite until it was all gone. You wished he'd use his mouth on you next. 

"That was delicious. Thank you."

You just nodded and cleared your throat. "Mind if I take Noah out in the car with me? I thought he might like the bayside playground."

"Sure. I'll put his car seat in your car before I leave," Bradley said, kissing Noah on his head. 

Once again, you thought about him kissing you there as he smiled and headed out for his date. 

"Noah, feel like going to the playground?"

"I want ants on the logs," he insisted, having finished his cereal. 

You sighed, and just as you heard Bradley pull out of the driveway, you decided to see how much money he kept behind the TV. A hundred bucks. You could go grocery shopping for a decent amount of food with a hundred dollars. 

"Should we go buy more carrots and raisins?" you asked Noah, tucking the money into your pocket. "You can pick out a treat, and then I'll make you ants on the logs before bedtime."

You ended up at the grocery store, trying to make a game out of everything to keep him entertained while you tried to maximize the money. Hopefully Bradley wouldn't be annoyed, but you figured he needed as much help as he could get. Noah was sweet, but doing everything by yourself was too hard. 

"More cereal?" you asked, and you let Noah pick out Cheerios. "And milk this time?"

When headed back to Bradley's house with ninety-eight dollars worth of groceries and Noah in tow, you couldn't help but imagine staying all night and getting more meals ready for them. 

You managed to make Noah's snack while you unpacked the groceries. "I need my crown!" he said, running to his bedroom and returning with his yellow, construction paper crown. "Get yours, too!"

You ran your fingers along his cheek. "I don't know what happened to mine. Should we make a new one?"

Noah laughed and took you by the hand. "It's in daddy's room."

You let him lead you down the hallway. "Is it?" you asked, entering Bradley's room all the way for the first time. It was tidy and it smelled like him. But you stopped short when you saw it. 

Your purple crown was hanging on one of the bedposts. 

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

Bradley was actually enjoying himself. His date with Talia was going way better than either of his previous dates. Not only did she tell him she loves kids, she asked to see some pictures of Noah.

Bradley paused for a beat as he swiped past the selfie of you in the crown and the photo you had taken for his dating profile. Then he showed Talia some pictures of Noah, and she made a fuss over how adorable he was. But now Bradley was thinking about what you and Noah might be doing at home right now. He got so distracted he barely heard what Talia was asking him. 

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, watching her lick chocolate cake from her fork with mild interest. 

She giggled softly. "I was asking if you wanted to plan for a second date? Maybe this weekend? When we can stay out later? You said you had a reliable babysitter."

Bradley scrutinized her face for a moment. She was pretty. She seemed really sweet. She wanted to go out with him again.

"How about I send you a message? Maybe we can make something work."

When Bradley said goodbye outside the restaurant, Talia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, grazing his mustache as she pulled away. 

"Goodnight, Bradley. Talk soon," she said with a grin. But he felt nothing. 

During the short drive home, he tried to convince himself to take Talia up on her second date offer, but it just wasn't working. But when he pulled into his driveway next to your car, he found himself jumping out of the Bronco and jogging up his front steps to get inside as quickly as he could. 

"Hi," you whispered, looking up from your spot on the couch. You had a textbook open on your lap, and you were wearing the paper crown. Either you or Noah must have retrieved it from his bedroom. The idea of you in there thrilled him a little too much. 

"Hi," he replied with a grin. "How was Noah?"

"Good. How was your date?"

"Good." His heart was beating a little faster as you set your book aside and straightened up on the couch. 

"Oh. You think you'll go out with her again?" 

Bradley couldn't help but think you looked a little disappointed. "Not sure."

"I'm beginning to think you're just really, very picky, Bradley."

He blew out a breath, dropping onto the couch next to you, loving the way you said his name. "Huh. I never considered that."

"You don't like martinis. You don't like the opera. You don't like women under twenty-four or over forty. All those martini sipping, opera loving grannies of San Diego might be just what you need." 

Bradley was doubled over laughing, looking at your smirk.

"I mean, who does that even leave for you to date?" you asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

You.

Jesus Christ. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. There was no chance in hell that was ever going to happen. Which was a real shame, because you made him laugh every single time he was with you. 

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but Noah and I went grocery shopping."

"You did?" he asked, his laughter turning to surprise. 

"Yeah. I used the cash behind the TV," you told him with a wince. "I hope that was okay. I didn't want to bother you during dinner."

Okay? It was more than okay. He couldn't believe you had done that for him and Noah. 

"I also made you dinner for tomorrow night. Chicken fajitas that you can reheat." 

Now he was just staring at you blankly. "You don't have to do any of that stuff."

You just shrugged. "If you don't want me to, I won't. But honestly, Bradley? It looks like you could use the help around here. You're kind of shit in the kitchen."

"You caught onto that, huh?" he asked, involuntarily inching closer to you on the couch. "What gave it away?"

"Oh, I guess the fact that Noah asked me about a hundred times to leave more food in the little plastic containers for him."

Bradley reached out and ran his finger along your crown. "Did you wear that to the store?"

Your eyes fluttered closed briefly. "No. It wasn't until almost bedtime that Noah wanted to wear our crowns. I didn't know you kept it."

He just nodded. He should be embarrassed that it had been hanging on his bed. 

"I like your bedroom," you whispered. 

Bradley swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say, but you beat him to it.

"Why aren't you sure about a second date?"

His response was out before he could consider it. "Aren't there supposed to be sparks?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Ideally."

"Didn't feel them," he replied with a shrug.

"Shame." 

He watched you stand and stretch, just like last time. But your shirt rode up, and Bradley could see your skin, and he wanted to press his lips there. He quickly stood as well. "Um, I'll get the carseat out of your car," he mumbled. "And if you're going to insist on being exceptionally helpful again in the future, I'll leave you my credit card for groceries."

"Okay," you replied, reaching up on your toes and gently putting the crown on his head. "Want to put that back in your room for safe keeping?"

Every ounce of his being wanted to suggest you take it there yourself and wait for him. 

"Okay," he told you instead. 

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

Bradley paced around the hangar, waiting for his turn to hit the skies. 

"What is your problem?" Nat asked him as she sat calmly on one of the benches. "I thought you'd be completely chill right now. You've been on a bunch of dates."

Bradley stopped and looked at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Nat just rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't get your rocks off yet?"

"No," he practically growled. "I haven't even been on a second date."

"You know, you can have one without the other, right?"

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "I don't want to start doing that."

Nat stood up and stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his chest to stop him pacing. He hadn't even been aware he had started pacing again. 

"How long has it been since you were intimate with someone?"

Bradley shrugged and didn't want to look at her. "A year."

Nat wrapped her arms around him as well as she could with them both wearing their flight suits. He felt instantly better. He should have known it would be okay to talk to her about stuff. 

"Oh, okay. I get it now. You need it to be special."

"Kind of," he replied, looking down at her as she nodded up at him. 

"I'll stop busting your balls about it then."

"Appreciate that."

"Why don't you tell me about your dates?" she prompted, patting him on the shoulder as she released him.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Not much to tell. Rebel just wanted to hookup. One didn't like kids. The one I went out with the other day was okay. I should have wanted a second date; I know she certainly did. But there wasn't anything really drawing me in? I don't know, Nat."

"Well, how's the babysitter working out?"

Bradley felt himself relax when he thought about you. "Oh, she's great. She's so funny," he said, smiling as he thought about you picking on him for being useless in the kitchen. "She always eats Skittles. And she knows the most random music. Did I mention she knows how to cook? Like really cook? She's good at it. And she likes fancy coffee creamers just like me. She even took Noah to the grocery store with her, so my fridge has actual food in it. And Noah asks for her all the time. She brings him coloring books, and she taught him how to sing the alphabet song backwards."

"Oh my God," Nat said, grinning wildly now. "You have a crush on your babysitter."

Bradley knew he was blushing. He could feel the immediate rush of heat to his face. 

"What does she look like?" Nat asked, looking smug as hell.

Bradley huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing the redness to recede from his cheeks. "Real cute."

Nat squealed when Bradley took his phone out and found the selfie you had sent to him. "You took a picture of her!"

He shook his head. "She sent it to me. When I was out last weekend. She and Noah made the paper crowns, and she sent me a picture of Noah first."

When Nat started to stare into his soul, he should have known he was in deep shit. "And you asked her for a selfie?" she said, exuding confidence. He nodded and she said, "You asked your cute babysitter to send you a selfie when you were on a date with another woman. No wonder your dates aren't working out!" She slapped him hard on the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're thinking about getting your dick wet with the babysitter."

Bradley absolutely could not deny that. He'd been thinking about you in a lot of different ways, including some that were definitely not rated G.

"Nat, just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean I'm going to shoot my shot with her."

"Well, why not?" she asked, putting her helmet on as they got called out to their Super Hornets.

Bradley scoffed as he followed her out into the sunlight. "She's twelve years younger than me. She's still finishing school. I have a fucking child and a lot of baggage. The list goes on and on. I'm going to focus on finding someone suitable. Someone a little older."

"If you like her, I say go for it. But don't just fuck her because she's fun and you think she's cute. Don't do that to her. Or Noah."

Bradley was more confused than ever at the moment, and he needed to clear his head before he took off.

"I wouldn't do that to myself either, Nat." He wasn't just trying to hookup with some random woman; he could do that after an hour at the Hard Deck if he really wanted to.

"Well I want to meet her. This weekend. I'll take you out on Saturday night and meet her then."

He sighed. "I have a date on Friday. Let me see if she's even free to watch Noah both nights."

"Great," Nat replied, turning toward her own aircraft. "And then I'll be the judge of the matter of you getting your dick wet," she called over her shoulder.

Bradley cringed as the ground staff all looked at him as he power walked away. 

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

Bradley asked if you could babysit Noah on back to back nights. Friday and Saturday. Was he already planning a first date followed immediately by a second date? He had probably really hit it off with someone over the app chat feature. It was the only thing that made sense, and he was just trying to cover all of his bases. 

You could watch Noah both nights if you cancelled your plans to hang out with Greyson. The fact that you would rather get to see Bradley for a total of thirty minutes over spending the night with Greyson was telling. 

Yeah, I can come over both nights if you pay me a bonus in fancy coffee from that shop again. 

When you checked your phone at lunchtime while you ate between your classes, Bradley's response made you laugh. 

Bradley Bradshaw: You mean I have to flirt with the barista again? Princess, I'll get kicked out permanently. 

You were smiling nonstop as you typed out a response. 

Do it for me and my caffeine needs? Besides, I doubt the barista will mind being chatted up by you in particular. 

You really shouldn't be encouraging this. It was not a good idea. This man was not available for you. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Oh yeah, Princess? What's that supposed to mean?

Shouldn't he be working right now? Didn't he have a jet he should be flying around in? You couldn't help yourself. You were too excited by the prospect of flirting with him. 

Have you seen yourself? I have full confidence that your flirting capabilities can score me a free coffee. 

You hustled along to your next class, but when you checked your phone again at the end of the day, he had texted you back again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Good to know. See you tomorrow.

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

Bradley wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he managed to leave base a little early on Friday, giving him time to stop at the coffee shop. He picked Noah up with your French vanilla coffee in his cup holder, and now the Bronco smelled sweet and reminded him of you. 

"Can I play with my babysitter?" Noah asked as Bradley buckled him into his car seat. 

Bradley smiled. "Sure, bub. You can play with her."

"She's my favorite," Noah said. "Is she your favorite?" 

Bradley nodded at his son and said, "Yeah. She's my favorite, too."

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

And now Nat is about to get involved again. Could be a good thing, could be a bad thing. I hope you enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[finalfrontierpublishing]

So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.

I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.

I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.

Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.

Some stats, if you will.

96215 words || 380 pages

Title font: Ghaomiec

I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.

Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.

The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.

Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.

Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.

I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.

Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.

[aloesarchives]

Kengan Headcanon: Gaolong's reaction to an opponent speaking about you in a unsavory manner

Warnings: Swearing on my end, reader been ogled at, gender neutral reader/pronouns

Series: Kengan Ashura/ Kengan Omega

Pairing: Gaolong Wongsawat x GN! Reader

Word count: 1988

Pronouns: They/them (reader is referred as partner and (Y/N))

(A/N: Been sitting in my file for a year. Now it's finally finished and posted. Please let me know if there is anything else I need to tag in my warnings.)

So I already established that in my headcanon of Gaolang that he respects women unironically, actually he respects people in general.

That’s because he’s just GOATED like that and is overall a decent person, especially in the world/universe of Kengan.

But back to the topic, the reason why I want to establish this is he is someone that doesn’t take no shit from anyone. Based on what we learned in Ashura, Gaolang looks down upon those who are cocky and don’t take fighting seriously. Looking more into it, he normally just gets irritated by them due to his calm and collected composure. 

In the world of the sport boxing, it’s no stranger that he will come across people who don’t fall under the definition of sportsmanship. Gaolang has his fair share of opponents that need a little bit of humbling, and he for sure gives it to them during the boxing match. It also doesn’t help his perception of them when they think and openly claim they can clean Gaolang up, making him believe they’re shallow inside and out. But he only does the pre-fight press conference because his manager told him it builds up his good reputation and consistent publicity. Knowing him, he wouldn’t really go to these but he does it for the sake of the sport and the benefits it brings as previously mentioned.

In a normal situation at a pre-fight press conference, he’ll get annoyed by these fighters and let that emotion subside after the press conference is done. He’ll reply nonchalantly to anything that’s thrown at him whether it’s questions or remarks from his opponents that tests the waters. He knows how to handle them and just waits to get into the ring so his fighting can do all the talking for him.

That’s until there was one opponent he had to fight he wouldn’t forget. Gaolang’s title as heavyweight champion was never challenged nor questioned at all. But during that moment in time, Gaolang’s title as champion was being questioned when another boxer was racking up wins left and right. Although this boxer was slightly younger, he was picking up fast and his fights looked impressive. Eventually, this novice boxer was turning heads and getting popular to the point where rumors and speculation about him being the new champion in the heavyweight division. It seemed absurd to think so, but it wasn’t out of the picture. 

Gaolang saw the boxer’s other fights and understood where the praise was coming from. Although Gaolang was confident in his abilities, he still was cautious of the other’s abilities and boxing style. So like always, Gaolang trained like he always does. This wasn’t new to you at all since you have been with Gaolang for quite some time and married for a few years at that point in time.

You thought this opponent was different as he seemed humble and didn’t bark a lot. After turning on the t.v. back in Thailand, you started watching the pre-fight press conference. Again, nothing new to you at all. When the questions from reporters started coming in, both boxers answered them as normal. However, you had a feeling that something was off about the guy. You could tell what it was but your gut had a strange feeling that couldn’t be shaken. 

It was not until the last 15 minutes of the conference that the novice boxer started to bite off more than he can chew. There was one reporter left that triggered a particular answer from him that caught Gaolang’s attention. However, what got a reaction out of him was when the boxer mentioned your name.

“But I will admit though, Gaolang. I’m jealous of you. You’ve got a beautiful and wonderful partner there. I wish I had someone like (Y/N).” 

Gaolang didn’t like where this was going. More so when someone mentions your name that wasn’t friends, family, or King Rama. He knows people like to use your name to throw off Gaolang but he knows how to deal with those who try to use your name to their advantage.

But it doesn’t mean Gaolang doesn’t feel any sort of anger when this happens, especially now.

Gaolang stood up and gave his signature glare to his opponent. He then walked across the stage and stood in the middle. The boxer did the same but he had a stupid shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with the face, Gaolang? I thought you would agree since you have (Y/N) to yourself, ya’know? Having such a fine person as a partner is something between us two men with good taste could understand.”

“Watch your tongue, (Boxer’s name). (Y/N) is not an object and is not to be ogled at, have some respect.”

But the boxer didn’t know any better and forgot to hold his tongue. The next few things that came out his mouth sent Gaolang’s blood boiling. Then there’s you  who gasped and covered your mouth as you watched what unfolded in front of you on the screen. Deepening his glare more while still keeping his stoic face, he looked down upon the novice boxer.

“Your words against (Y/N) are punishable crimes, and I will deliver the punishment without further question.”

With that, Gaolang turned and walked towards the exit. All chaos breaks out in the conference room. Meanwhile, you were sitting at home with the feeling of disgust and a pinch of fear. You never minded when your name came in the news, but this type of attention was something you feared and the fact a man said on live television with no hesitation was terrifying.

Basically, Gaolang went straight to his hotel room and took a cool shower to calm down.

The anger subsided but the feeling of repulse didn’t.

There are only 3 things that Gaolang shows pride, loyalty and devotion towards: the country of Thailand, King Rama, and you.

And how dare that boxer disrespect you in front of him. The absolute audacity!!!

After Gaolang finishes his shower, he calls you to see if you're okay. Whether it is physically or emotionally, Gaolang needs to make sure you’re doing alright. Gaolang, as always, is respectful towards you in anything. That’s why he has never mentioned you or your relationship to the public unless you allow it. But even then, he wants it to be lowkey af.

Sure, you have calmed down. However, you were a little shaken by this. I mean, I would if a random man said some unsavory things about me on public broadcasting.

Gaolang apologized for letting this happen to you, to which you told him that this isn’t anything too serious and that he should focus more on his upcoming title defense match.

However, this was and IS a serious matter to Gaolang. So the next few days, Gaolang trained with just a little bit more intent than normal.

(Meanwhile, that boxer is getting absolutely slandered for the shit he said on the internet. Those netizens don’t like how he dissed their favorite power couple)

At last, the day of the match that would decide who keeps the title is here. You opt to stay home for this as it would be better for your piece of mind. But you were more worried about Gaolang. Although you  know your husband well, actually that’s the problem. You know how exactly your husband is. Goalang isn’t a hard person to read. He’s rational, calm, loyal, and observant. One thing you notice about Gaolang is how defensive he can get.

People can shit talk him all they want, he could give zeros fucks at all. But insult Thailand, King Rama, or god forbid you, that person is gonna get fucking die.

It had been a couple of days since the conference. So you know the initial anger wore off. But still, you only hope Gaolang goes somewhat  easy on him.

But since the controversy at the press conference caused such attention, this match was one of Gaolang’s most anticipated matches yet for any of his titles.

The event started as per usual with any boxing matches, the sponsors, introductions/entrances, anthems, etc. The challenger seems as confident as ever, having barely any nervousness evident on his face. Same goes with Gaolang, but with his classic stoic stare. The match was on its way once the referee explained the rules and the first bell rang.

However, you knew something was wrong right off the bat with him. It wasn't like Gaolang was fighting alright, he’s a man that never half ass anything. But you can tell he wasn’t giving his all at all. You didn’t know why he wasn’t trying at all. This wasn’t like his fight with Kaneda, he put effort into that one. But something was different about this match and you couldn’t tell what.

It seemed like Gaolong was struggling seemingly, the commentators were shocked and questioned that there would be a new heavyweight boxing champion on their hands. Was this the end of Gaolong’s reign as boxing champion?

No, you knew we wouldn’t lose to people like his opponent. He would rather die than give them a win.

The third round came along and around seemed hype about Gaolong’s opponent and he seemingly being the winner. However, Gaolong was not phased by this. In fact, he still kept his calm composed aura like he always does. That’s when you saw that Gaolong was up to something. You didn’t know yet but it was something.

The 3rd match began and that was when everything suddenly changed. It was like a flip of a switch as Gaolong just started boxing the hell out of his opponent. Gaolong had landed more hits than his opponent could dodge. 

It was obvious to the crowd that this round was one-sided. Gaolong outmatched the hell of his opponent in every way he could. And with a finishing blow to the jaw, Gaolong had won by a knockout. The crowd went wild, the commentators losing their minds from the fast yet heavy KO.

Gaolong pulled the ultimate power move by letting his opponent think he had a sliver of hope in beating Gaolong. Only for Gaolong to straight up smash it to the group and pummel it until it was dust. He shattered the man’s hopes and dreams by letting him think he had a chance of getting a win only for Gaolong to show him that he is nowhere near his level.

That Gaolong was miles ahead of this cocky bastard and he made sure his opponent knew that. This loss will forever change his opponent for the rest of his career.

After the Gaolong’s win was finalized, all he wanted to do was go home back to Thailand and be with you. That’s it. He did his press conferences and interviews, but he didn’t care for them. All that mattered was you and he needed to get home to you as soon as possible.

As always, King Rama gives Gaolong a few days to a week off of work when Gaolong brings home a win. Every time Gaolong wins, it’s like an unofficial national holiday is happening. Thailand is bright and festive as ever everything he wins.

Now with Gaolong back home and off from work, he just spends his time with you. Maybe a little training but more so leisure and doing errands or chores with you. You were happy that Gaolong isn’t in a bad mood anymore but Gaolong now knows that people who weaponized you and your name against him just to stir the pot. 

Well, he takes that pot and creates his own fucking food with it because no way in hell will he let someone do that to you. He made it known with that match. Because after that match, his opponents never mentioned your name ever again.

Thai God Guard Dog privileges.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Please like or/and reblog it! Have a wonderful day!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for refusing to help my friend out financially after they got a new dog even though they need financial help often and are currently in debt?

Everyone is this story is mid to late 20s.

I have a friend in America who is on social benefits. So I know they don't have a lot of money. I'm also not rich but I earn minimum wage in my country and can afford to pitch in a little sometimes which I don't mind doing generally. I'm also not a big spender at all and I'm able to save up something every month.

In the past I've helped them with buying groceries and even gave them some so they could buy a laptop for art commissions and some games. I don't mind doing that at all. When their old dog got sick I helped out as well. Since I figure some people are going to want to know, in the last 5 years I have given maybe about 2000 dollars.

They got a new dog after the old one passed, which I get. A dog can be a good companion. I did find it a little irresponsible to get a new puppy when they at the time needed several hundred dollars for rent. I told them it might be better to wait until they where no longer in debt with their landlord before getting a new dog. They told me they understood my concern but they got the puppy for free from a friend so it would not be a big deal and they would be able to feed the puppy.

I did tell them puppies can get sick and end up costing a lot more than anticipated but they told me they were willing to take that risk and I decided to not push any further. I had given my opinion and there is not much else I can do. I did tell them not to count on my help financially especially since I had some things of my own that needed fixing and they told me they understood and not to worry.

But then a few weeks later the puppy ate their medicinal weed, which for some reason was within reach of a puppy, and had to get it's stomach pumped and stay overnight at the vet clinic for a few nights.

They came to me and asked if I could help out with the bill and how they would pay me back in part. The bill was over 4000 dollars. I told them sorry but no I can't. First of all, I don't even have that much, I'd have to take out a loan. Second, I warned them this could happen and that I would not be able to help out financially. They seemed a little pissed at that but I just thought it was because of the stress of the situation. They said they would try and get the funds elsewhere and asked me to share it around, which I did.

Unfortunately they didn't manage to get enough to pay the vet and ended up having to give the puppy to a shelter. It's a cute and calm pup so I have no doubt it will be adopted out quickly but it's still sad and I do feel for my friend. But now I'm being blamed for it. I've been getting several angry messages from mutual friends about how I'm the reason my friend lost their emotional support and how I'm the reason they are having a breakdown and suicidal thoughts.

I feel really badly for my friend but I also don't think it's fair to put the blame on me. The reaction from my online friend group makes me feel like I'm missing something that does make me the asshole.

[gureumz]

if only you knew (that i can see you)

rating: explicit

member: jay

premise: you're enhypen's new manager and it's palpable how instantly this one member takes a liking to you. you're adamant about keeping things professional but he's very persuasive.

notes: fem!reader, dom!jay, slightly dubious consent, dirty talk, mentions of vomiting, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, a quickie (but a very hot one imo), office romance-ish (?), mentions of drinking, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: fourth of my 1k follower special! oh, writer's block is a bitch. one whole month of nothing and i churn this out in one night. big, big apologies if i've become rusty over the past month, but i couldn't get this story out of my head. also, title is by from madame swift's 'i can see you'. please enjoy!

you feel like throwing up. right this minute, right at this very second.

you're fully convinced that you're about to hurl all over your pristine brand-new sneakers, spewing chunks of this morning's breakfast (a single cup of iced coffee) on the company's shiny, newly-waxed floor.

you're moments away from it, you can feel something catch in your throat. this is it, you know this is it. goodbye to your new job, your company benefits, goodbye to this godforsaken earth—

"sorry, are you lost?"

you whip around, eyes wide. towering over you is a man, sharp-featured, lean, and unbelievably handsome.

you swallow, trying to find an answer to give.

"i'm the new assistant manager. sejin-sunbaenim told me to come straight to dance practice room 2," you manage to say with as minimal tremor as you can. the man raises both eyebrows.

"oh, it's you," the handsome stranger says, bowing. "you're ______."

you nod, chest loosening at the sound of your name. so you're in the right place, after all. one less thing to worry about.

"that's me," you confirm, bowing back.

"cool. i'm jay," the man responds with an easy smile. he reaches out and you grasp his hand in yours.

oh, he's so warm.

"i...know," you mumble out, chuckling nervously.

jay grins. he drops your hand, motioning to the door behind you.

"sejin-nim is inside. so are the others," jay informs, reaching over for the door handle. you sidestep, and for a moment, you feel like a nervous bunny, jumping all over the place and flinching at the slightest sound.

in your defense, the last thing you want is to cross any boundaries on your first day.

jay smiles at you again, pulling the door open. "after you."

you blink, momentarily distracted by the dimple on his cheek. you quickly regain your bearings, smiling sheepishly as you step into the room.

you're quickly whisked into a flurry of introductions. each enhypen member seems equally excited, or at least pleased, to meet you. they shake your hand, bow, and greet you with bright, boyish smiles.

you're dazed by the end of it all, but at least you're not thinking about throwing up anymore.

"you have the calendar i shared with you, right?" sejin, your superior, asks after the members have difted off, busying themselves with warm-ups.

you recall the zoom conference you had with sejin a week ago, how you pored over every phone number, email, and address pertinent to your job as enhypen's new manager.

"yes," you answer.

"everything's there. all orange tasks are mine, and all blue ones are kyungjun's. he's not here now, but you'll meet him probably tomorrow. you can pick another color for your tasks in the mean time," sejin explains.

"i'll email you every morning with things i need help with and you can add those to the calendar afterward," he continues. "for today, i just want you to shadow me to see what a typical day looks like for us."

you nod along, occasionally glancing at your phone, the managers' calendar flashed on your screen.

you ignore the way your heart drops when you see the stacks of orange and blue piled on each tile.

as if reading your thoughts, sejin chuckles beside you. "it may look like a lot, but the boys make it easier. they're total professionals."

you laugh along, turning back to the group. your eyes immediately settle on jay who's quick to catch your gaze.

he smiles and you smile back.

---

"________-nim! how was your first day?"

you look up from your phone, momentarily abandoning the email you were composing, an inquiry sejin assigned you to send to a local media franchise. you were on your fifth reread.

you realize with a start that it's jay.

he sets a large paper bag down on the table. you're late to notice the drink carrier he has in his other hand.

"well, however it went, i got you a drink and dinner to commemorate your first day," jay adds, taking one out of the two drinks from the carrier. he slides the cup towards you and your cheeks immediately heat up.

"you didn't have to," you say, laughing nervously. "you're too kind, jay."

jay beams at this. he pushes the paper bag towards you as well.

"this is from all the members," jay informs. "as thanks for working hard today."

before you can reply, jay bows briefly before waving goodbye and walking away.

you stare at the paper bag for a few moments, a weird flutter taking over your body.

---

jay is...strange.

or, at least, you think he's been acting strange.

it's only been a little over a month since your first day. it was easy for you to fall into a routine, seeing as the group is in between promotions. a photoshoot every other day, a pre-recording once a week, dance practice every day after dinner. the most stress you've had so far was when you forgot to phone the van driver about a change in schedule, leaving you and half the members stranded at a certain broadcast station.

jay had comforted you then, as you were near tears. he laid a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing against your sweater in an attempt to soothe you.

"it happens," jay had said. you didn't even notice his hand had moved from your arm down to the small of your back.

"you're doing great," he added before withdrawing his hand.

you thought about that moment the whole night. how warm his touch was, how gentle he handled your near-breakdown.

he was your responsibility and yet jay was the one that came to your rescue.

you went out on your first official team dinner a few days after that, with the whole managerial team present along with the members. sejin recommended a quaint, yet highly-acclaimed restaurant off one of the side streets around the company.

jay had squeezed in beside you at the table, so close you can feel his body heat radiating off him. a few times his knees knocked against yours but neither of you acted like you noticed.

it was then the first inkling of suspicion rose in you.

could jay be...?

surely not. he was just being nice. he's the literal definition of a gentleman. it's just the way jay is.

of course. it's totally in his character to bring you coffee almost every day. it's normal that he rushes to open every door you walk through. there's definitely nothing weird about him gifting you an expensive box of chocolates for completing your first month on the job.

he's not flirting with you. that would be silly.

you sigh, shaking off these thoughts as you approach the small practice booth at the end of the hall. you can hear the sound of a guitar from the inside.

"jay?" you call out, knuckles knocking against the glass door. the guitar stops.

"yeah?" comes a muffled voice from inside. you slowly push the door open, peeking your head in.

jay is seated in front of the computer, his electric guitar cradled in his arms. he's sporting a loose white shirt and black joggers. his hair is unstyled, black tresses falling over his eyes. he brushes it back with his fingers.

"you have a recording like—," you pause, checking your watch. "right now."

jay gives a start, checking his phone. he groans, setting his guitar down on its stand.

"right," he mutters under his breath. he sighs, rising up from his seat.

you watch as he stretches, the bottom of his shirt riding up to reveal the top of his boxers peeking out from his pants. you catch a glimpse of a very thin sliver of skin.

you try your best to ignore that.

"you better hurry before the producer kicks both of our asses," you urge lightly, crossing your arms. you've been trying to be more assertive with the members lately, seeing as you've already had enough time to know more about them and how they're supposed to be spending their days under your supervision.

"yes ma'am," jay replies, approaching you. you step out of the doorway to let him pass.

he doesn't move for a few seconds and you peer up at him with a questioning look on your face.

"can i ask you something?" jay blurts out, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you glance around to make sure no one is nearby. you have a feeling he's about to ask something that's a little less appropriate for work.

"are you single?"

you nearly choke on your own spit. you had a sense of what he was going to ask, but you never expected him to be this direct.

"may i know why you're asking?" you reply, treading carefully. one wrong move and you can end up dismissed from this long-coveted job of yours.

jay shrugs. "just curious."

you chew on your lip, contemplating how to go about his question. you let out a breath, deciding that there's no harm in being truthful.

"i am," you confirm.

jay nods. "same."

you quirk an eyebrow at this. cocking your head to the side, you ask, "really? how come?"

"i'm sure you see how busy we are," jay counters with a smirk.

it's your turn to shrug. "that doesn't stop jake from texting that girl from—"

"you know about that?!" jay cuts in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

you snicker, shaking your head.

"i know a lot of things, jay. i'm with you guys almost every waking hour of the day," you inform.

jay looks at you with an unreadable expression. something between fear and confusion. it makes you giggle.

"i technically should take it up with HR and higher management, but the other managers and i agreed that until you guys decide to go sneaking off on late-night dates, we'll keep it under wraps."

jay's mouth hangs open, still in disbelief.

"so, if you're planning on taking some girl out, you better let me know," you say, giving jay a pointed look.

jay's expression changes then as he ducks his head to avoid your eyes.

"not gonna happen," he says.

jay gives you a curt nod and smile before pushing past you out into the hallway.

---

you and jay don't talk about that night.

you know that he knows that you know the reason he asked about the state of your love life. he definitely did it on purpose to open up the discussion.

you're determined to squash the notion before it develops further.

you're not doing it to be mean. you'd never want to hurt jay on purpose. but you have a job to do and a reputation to keep.

jay knows that. he should know that.

you get the impression that even if he did, he doesn't care. not when he's sauntering over to you now, a bag of food and an iced coffee in his hands.

"mind if i join you?" jay asks, already sliding into the seat across you. there's barely any other people in the hybe cafeteria but a nervous chill still runs up your spine.

this is nothing. just a friendly lunch between a manager and her member.

"you didn't leave me much choice," you say with a laugh.

jay shrugs, winking at you playfully. you quickly avert your eyes. better to not say anything.

"i like your outfit today," jay compliments, taking a sip of his coffee.

you glance down at yourself. you're in a plain, short-sleeved blouse, white and a little sheer. you paired it with comfortable black corduroy pants and sneakers.

nothing special. to you, at least.

you had to feign ignorance on the way jay had stared at you the whole morning while you were in a meeting.

"thank you," you reply curtly, taking a bite of your kimbap.

"i'm taking you guys home tonight." you quickly revert to another subject.

"kyungjun-sunbaenim has to attend to other things so he assigned me to make sure all of you get home safe and in one piece for today."

jay nods. "got it."

"you guys don't have anything scheduled after 11 so i expect all of you to be at the lobby by that time," you add.

you can feel jay staring as you continue to pick at your food. you fight the urge to look up.

"will do," he finally says.

---

"do you need me to walk you guys up?"

you lean out of the passenger side window, watching as the members file out of the vans in front of their apartment building. thankfully, they all heeded your word, showing up at the lobby at 11:05, ready to head home for the day.

as if to prove that the heavens were on your side, the ride home was awfully quiet, too, which was a surprise considering that it was jay, jake, and sunghoon that decided to ride along with you.

jungwon shakes his head to your question, walking up to your side of the van.

"we're good, _______-noona," jungwon says. "you get home safe, though!"

riki nods along, skipping up to you. "yeah, or else jay hyung is g—"

the youngest is cut off with a sharp elbow to his ribs by jay. riki splutters out in disbelief, complaining, but he's herded off by sunoo.

"good night," jay calls out over his shoulder, waving at you.

you wave back, observing as the boys enter the building, finally letting yourself relax as the last of them disappear through the doors.

---

a vibration jolts against your cheek and you gasp as you're ripped right out of your deep slumber.

you realize in your sleep-hazed mind that it's your phone that woke you up, ringing incessantly. you must have fallen asleep with your face against it.

you press the 'answer' button, the faint beginnings of irritability creeping up your chest.

"hello?" you say, voice sharp.

"_______-noona? i'm so sorry for waking you if you were sleeping, but i didn't know who else to call. we're sorry but we went out to drink after you dropped us off and jay hyung had a little more alcohol than he could handle."

the voice rambles on and it takes you a second to remember who it belongs to.

"jungwon? where are you? who's with you?"

a short pause. you hear the faint sound of a voice, rapidly complaining. you think it's sunoo.

"we took a cab back to our apartment but jay hyung won't get up so we're out here on the front steps," jungwon explains.

"he's just too heavy for sunoo-hyung and i while he's in this state, and the rest of the hyungs are already passed out upstairs," he adds.

you press a hand on your forehead. this can't be happening right now.

a million thoughts run through your head but you will them to quiet down, focusing instead at the task at hand.

"how about riki?" you ask.

"nothing is going to wake him up now, noona," jungwon says, exasperated.

"please, we're not in the—hic—best state, either," jungwon continues. you can still hear sunoo in the background.

you fight the urge to groan.

"okay, okay, i'm on my way," you finally say.

---

you practically fly out of the taxi, not even bothering to wait for your change. you see three figures at the front of the building and you immediately recognize them as jay, sunoo, and jungwon.

"what the hell, jay?" you ask, rushing over. sunoo and jungwon have resigned themselves to sitting on both sides of jay's sprawled figure on the stairs.

jay is on his side, hands tucked under his head as if sleeping on the most comfortable bed instead of rough concrete.

"we tried," sunoo says with a pout. his eyes are glassy, but his speech seems fine. probably tipsy, you think.

"i can carry him just fine," jungwon speaks up. his speech is definitely slurred. "but that's when he's conscious and when i'm not drunk off three bottles of soju."

"jesus christ," you say under your breath.

"okay, i'll grab from under his arms, sunoo you grab his legs, and jungwon, support his torso and that big fat ass of his," you instruct, positioning yourself at jay's head.

jay giggles suddenly, eyes blinking open slowly.

"you think my ass is fat?" jay asks, barely comprehensible with how drunk he is.

"shut up," you respond, huffing. you tuck your hands at his armpits, hooking your arms through.

sunoo and jungwon follow suit.

carrying a nearly six-foot-tall man weighing more than what you can deadlift in the rare times you're at the gym was exactly as difficult as you expected, even with additional help.

it took the three of you ten whole minutes to haul jay towards the elevator and about fifteen to get him down the hall to their unit.

only god knows where the apartment's security guard is amidst all this.

"just a little more," you pant as you combine your efforts to drag jay towards his shared bedroom with jake.

you kick the door open as you heave all your might into getting jay across the threshold.

the room's empty. jake's probably in heeseung's room.

your legs give out before you can get jay to his bed. sunoo and jungwon fall to their knees as well, all three of you breathing heavily from the effort.

"i need to throw up," jungwon declares, dashing out of the room.

"i need...," sunoo pauses, a hand held up as if to silence you, despite you not having said a word.

"i need water and an aspirin," sunoo finally says, stumbling out of the room as well.

he's gracious enough to close the door behind him.

you get up, feeling around for a bedside lamp, muttering a soft 'yes' when you finally feel a switch between your fingers. you turn the lamp on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.

you turn to see jay's slumped figure, his back resting on the foot of one of the beds. you approach quietly, kneeling down next to him.

"you're such an idiot," you whisper, brushing back some of the damp hair away from jay's forehead. "who told you to get this drunk?"

"no one," jay responds. you nearly jump, not expecting jay to be lucid at this point in time.

"you know i'm gonna have to tell the other managers about this," you softly berate jay, tugging off his jacket. he giggles, holding his hands over his chest.

"why are you undressing me? do you wanna fuck me or something?" jay asks in his drunken stupor.

you roll your eyes. "no, stupid, i'm making sure you're as comfortable as you can be while in this state."

"liar," jay counters. "you so wanna fuck me."

"i could report you for inappropriate behavior," you reply quietly, throwing jay's jacket to the side. you reach for the topmost buttons of his polo.

"see? you're getting me naked," jay continues, reaching out to take ahold of your wrist.

you stop to look up and you realize that jay has his eyes open, pupils focused on you. his grip tightens around your wrist as he pulls you closer.

"you know right?" jay asks.

your first instinct is to feign innocence, to ask him what he's talking about.

but you do know.

"you're drunk, jay," you supply rather simply. "we'll talk tomorrow."

jay smiles, reaching out to cup one side of your face. you freeze, letting jay's thumb run along your cheekbone before traveling down to your lips. he traces the curves of your mouth, staring intently.

you don't know whether you leaned in or if jay pulled you down, but a moment later, your mouth is against his, a desperate, messy press of lips. he licks right into you, and you can't help the groan that escapes you.

you can't be doing this. this is a clear breach of protocol, this is illegal, even.

"jay," you whisper against his lips. "jay, please."

jay pauses, pulling away slightly. he nuzzles against your cheek, waiting for you to speak.

"we can't keep doing this," you say, prying jay off you. "at least not when you're still drunk."

jay gives you a long, hard look. his eyes are half-lidded as if a step away from sleep. his mouth is parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"i'll remember this tomorrow," jay declares.

you sigh, leaning in to peck his lips one last time.

"we'll see."

---

the whole thing blew up in the members' faces. and yours.

you got a good telling-off from sejin, but thankfully nothing reached upper management. the whole group was called into one of the conference rooms the next day and sejin spared no one in his heated scolding. not even riki.

('i was sleeping!' riki had argued. sejin planted his hands firmly on his hips and listed the many different ways ni-ki could have contacted any of the managers to at least inform us of the older members' whereabouts)

you stood very still in the corner, having already received the tamer, abridged version of sejin's speech.

it's been a week now and everything was as normal as it could be, the only difference being that the whole group would be required to have their locations turned on at all times for the next few weeks until management was sure they wouldn't pull another stunt like that again.

oh, and you've been avoiding jay like the plague.

you're thankful that he made no effort in approaching you outside of what was appropriate for work and whenever he did, he'd look anywhere but your face.

it hurt you a bit to see him like this, knowing that he's probably embarrassed with the whole thing. though, you're not quite sure if he's also affected by or if he even remembers the incident in his room.

you're so deep in thought while storming down the hallway, that you nearly run into someone. their firm arms reach out to keep you steady as you try and regain your balance.

you look up and all air is knocked out of your lungs.

"oh, hi jay," you greet, stepping back. your palms clam up as memories of that night the week before flash in your mind.

"hi, ________-noona," he replies.

seconds tick by and no one talks. you know you should say something, anything. an apology, a snarky remark, or a lame excuse to get away. but nothing comes to mind.

"i'm sorry about what happened," jay finally cuts through the silence.

you shake your head, offering him a smile. "we've been over it, jay. quite thoroughly, if by sejin-sunbaenim's standards."

"that's not what i meant," jay continues. he's looking you in the eye.

you gulp, your insides churning.

"that's fine," you begin, keeping your voice as steady as you can. "we can just forget about it."

jay sighs. "i'm not sorry that it happened. i'm sorry that i needed to be drunk to let you know how i was feeling."

you're struck speechless, your brain going haywire. how do you respond to that?

"jay, you know we can't," you deflect, taking another step back. jay follows, standing over you. you feel so small, so vulnerable under his gaze.

"why not? the worst that could happen is you'll be transferred to another artist, another department," jay protests. he takes another step forward.

all you can do is stare down at the floor.

you want it, too. so bad. but you can't risk it. you're not ready, everything's still too uncer—

you feel a pair of hands on your face. you gasp, eyes darting around to see if anyone is in the vicinity.

"j-jay, not here—"

you're pulled forward, jay's strong grip around your arm. he practically drags you to a nearby supply closet, yanking the door open and pushing you in.

worry gnaws away in you as you remember the surveillance cameras in the hallway. those thoughts are immediately pushed away when you feel jay press up against you. you hear him rummage around for a switch, and suddenly, the cramped space is illuminated with dim, yellow lighting.

the closet couldn't be more than a few feet wide both ways, just enough to accommodate two people standing practically on top of each other.

jay grabs your hips and presses himself to your frame. you stifle a gasp as you feel him poking through his pants.

"i want you," jay says lowly, large hands traveling down to your ass. he holds them firmly, squeezing with all his might.

you moan, your hand flying up to your mouth.

"you want me too, right?" jay asks. he slips his hands beneath your denim skirt, a timely choice of clothing for this situation.

you don't know whether to thank or curse the heavens for that particular choice you made.

"we can't—," you begin once more.

jay shuts you up with his mouth, kissing you with so much force it drives you back against the storage shelves. jay cages you between his arms, planting his hands on the wood behind you. he devours your lips as if they were his last meal on earth.

he reaches one hand down, pressing two fingers against your mound. jay groans against your lips when he feels the wetness in your underwear.

"see? you want me, too," jay says, pulling away. he bunches up your skirt around your waist.

"keep it up," jay commands and you oblige, gripping your skirt with shaky hands. you watch as jay unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, just enough to let his already hard cock spring free.

jay yanks your panties aside, tapping your legs, signaling you to open up. you part your thighs, reaching up to steady yourself on jay.

you yelp when jay pulls one of your legs around his hips, giving him a better angle to slide in. and he does, slipping in so easily between your folds and right into your waiting hole.

"j-jay," you gasp out as he fully sheathes himself within you.

"fuck, you feel amazing," jay compliments, wrapping an arm around your midsection. "already so wet for me."

he pulls you even closer and that's when he starts to move. jay's thrusts are intense, plunging into you fully before pulling back nearly all the way out, and then sinking right back in. your eyes roll back as jay picks up the pace.

"sshh, that's it," jay coos. "we gotta be quiet and we gotta be fast."

you let out a muted whimper, burying your face in jay's chest. soft thuds can be heard as he fucks you against the shelves, your back digging painfully against them, but you can't be bothered to care, not when jay's cock is splitting you open so well.

"still gonna say 'we can't'?" jay says through gritted teeth. you look up to see his forehead creased in concentration, his pupils blown wide. sweat drips down the side of his face.

"god, you look so good like that," jay whispers. "so helpless on my cock. this is what you wanted, right?"

you nod frantically, arms wrapping around jay's neck.

"yeah," you breathe out. "wanted your cock for so long."

jay grunts, throwing his head back. "yes, keep talking to me like that."

his movements quicken and it takes everything in you to fight against the urge to let your knees buckle underneath you.

"please jay," you whimper. "fuck me harder, fuck me the way you've always wanted to fuck me."

"shit," jay mutters.

you're briefly left breathless as you feel your other leg give out, neither of your feet planted on the floor. it takes you a second to realize that jay has scooped you up in his arms, holding you up completely as he continues to ram into you. you wrap your legs tighter around jay.

jay has full control now and all you can do is hang on for dear life.

"yes! jay, yes!" you cry out against his neck. jay pants directly in your ear, fucking you at a speed that's nearly unimaginable to you.

"i-i'm gonna cum," jay manages to get out.

"do it," you quickly answer. jay pulls back to look at you.

you hold his face in your hands, nodding. jay covers your mouth with his as he gives the last of his thrusts, stilling inside you after a while. he presses himself deep within you and you moan against his mouth, feeling him pulse and twitch against your walls.

you cling onto jay for a whole minute before he stumbles back, letting you down on your own two feet. he snaps your underwear back in place, kissing you passionately as he does.

"keep it there for the rest of the day," jay mumbles against your lips, smiling.

you laugh breathlessly, unsure whether it really is jay saying all these things.

you hear a faint buzzing sound and you jump, remembering that you had your phone in your skirt.

well, before jay nearly ripped it off you.

you spot your device on the ground, snatching it up to quickly answer the call.

"hello?"

"_______? have you seen jay?" sejin's voice cuts through the silence inside the closet. you meet jay's eyes and he, too, is perusing his phone.

"no," you lie right between your teeth. "i haven't. why?"

"he has a schedule in a bit and he's not answering any of my calls," sejin says. you're not quite sure if he's worried or irritated. probably both.

"i'll try calling him," you offer. jay grins wolfishly from your side, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"great," sejin says. "let me know if you reach him."

you hang up, pocketing your phone.

"you're hot when you're breaking the rules like that," jay says against the column of your throat.

it takes all your willpower to push him away.

"there won't be any rules to break if i get fired," you say matter-of-factly. you lean in to kiss jay square on the lips.

"so you better get your ass out of here before that happens."

[killbenedictcumberbatchagain]

I had a job interview today. I live in a slightly more affluent area right now. I go in after preparing for it and I'm told that the position has already been filled. The manager takes me to the office and reiterates that the store is no longer hiring. She says I should have been notified by email (I wasn't). I'm looking for work but that would have been a perfect position. I'm tempted to call back tomorrow in my most alabaster voice and ask if there are any positions open and record the phone call. But aside from that, starting next week I'm going to be alone at my dad and stepmom's house for 2 and a half weeks while they leave the country with very minimal funds or support from people like friends of family and I'm anxious about it. I need money to get by while I'm there. I'm looking for work and need money for food, transportation, and just relief in general for my situation. They won't be back until mid September. I'm incredibly anxious about the situation. If anyone can donate to me while they are absent it would provide me a sense of security and I'd be able to take care of myself. I'm in a neighborhood where I stick out like a sore thumb and deal with racism quite literally every time I step outside. It's agonizing. I know that help is there, don't scroll past. Please, I implore you, give it if you have it or tell the people you know to help. This is how you do work as an ally. I'm applying for food stamps and I'm without resources until I get benefits from my county.

cash.me/$tomi1

Venmo: tominova

PayPal.me/tominova

[turtletaubwrites]

Needy For Me ~ Part 5

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,694

This is part 5 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You get some unexpected advice while the swordsman takes time to think. Then it's time for the big talk.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Swearing, Casual Sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Crewmates With Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy and we love that, but now he's gotta do a big think

A/N: I literally can't stop writing these. I'm on medical leave for a month, and my brain has decided that all I'm going to do is write fics, all day every day 😅 I'm so happy to hear your reactions to this series, it's been cheering me up! I hope you enjoy this next installment 😊

Too many eyes grabbed onto you as you walked into the galley for breakfast. You felt your own eyes widen as you avoided catching any of them.

You knew why Zoro and Sanji were tracking your every movement, but Robin’s eyes felt heavy as well. 

I should have known. There was no way the boys could be subtle. 

You looked up at Robin briefly, her sly smirk making your cheeks flush. 

The conversation felt muffled, but luckily the swordsman and the cook didn’t try to interact with you. You’d told Zoro you’d wait for him to figure things out, and your mind was dreading every outcome you could imagine. 

I don’t want this to end. 

Biting your lip, you let Luffy grab the rest of the food on your plate that you couldn’t force down. 

In the hallway, aimlessly moving toward the deck, you jumped at a finger tapping you on the shoulder. You held your breath, turning to see which of the boys were pulling for your attention. 

There was no one there. 

Your brows furrowed, and you wondered if all your sleepless nights were starting to fuck with you. Until an arm appeared on the floor, beckoning you forward. 

Gulping, you followed a trail of arms, until you found yourself in front of Robin’s door. One of her arms opened it from your side, motioning for you to enter. 

Robin sat, lounging on her loveseat, which you had no idea how she’d gotten through her door. She was sprawled, lazily looking through a heavy book until she lifted her lovely blue eyes to meet yours. Scooting gracefully over, she set the book down before patting the cushion next to her. 

You felt frozen stiff, but managed to make your way there, smelling her lovely vanilla musk scent. 

Robin tilted her head, with another slow smile before finally breaking the silence. 

“You’ve got those boys in more of a tussle than usual.”

Panicking, you stuttered, feeling your fingers grip into your thighs. 

“It’s alright, Y/N.”

Robin’s tone stayed calm, as it always was, as she patted your clenched fist. 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I want you to know that you can come to me if things get overwhelming.”

You felt heat build in your throat, not knowing why her words were hitting you quite so hard. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Giving her a watery smile, you gratefully shared your dilemma. Robin kept her calm eyes on you, nodding, and occasionally asking the perfect questions that helped you clarify your own thoughts. 

Which were still jumbled. 

“Well, Y/N. You are waiting for the swordsman to decide what he wants. You’ve told him, and now you’ve told me, what you believe you should want. Or what you believe would be the smart choice.”

You bit your lip as she kept dragging truths from you. 

“What are the outcomes that you would prefer?”

Releasing a strained laugh, you lifted your face toward the ceiling while you sighed. 

“I don’t know, Robin. All I know is that I’m scared to risk my place on the crew, scared to mess up our dynamics. But I also really don’t want to stop what we’re doing.”

Chuckling, Robin leaned back to look you over.

“No, I'm sure you don’t. And what about the cook?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t know. That kind of threw me off guard.”

Robin tapped her finger to her lips, looking like she was pondering the meaning of the universe. 

“Well, it looks like you need to figure out your feelings too. I have my own opinions, if you’d like an outside perspective.”

You nodded, almost desperate for advice. 

“If you and the swordsman fall for each other, it could be scary, uncertain. But we are all family. We would get through it all together.”

Tears welled up, not falling yet. The warmth you felt was so soothing. 

“On the other hand, if you’d prefer to keep things casual, I think you should enjoy them both. You wouldn’t want to waste such a bounty.”

You choked on air, waiting for Robin to say she was joking. But Robin just stared at you with mischief, almost a challenge in her eyes. 

“I-I…”

“Come on, love. You’ve got plenty to think about.”

Robin's many limbs gently pushed you from the couch, and into the hallway. You went along, mouth gaping until you looked back at her through the door frame. She sat there, still smirking. 

“By the way, I wouldn’t be opposed to hearing some of the more salacious details later.”

Robin winked as the door closed, and one of her arms smacked your ass in the hallway. 

Clamping your hand over your mouth to cover your surprised yelp, you stood in stunned silence for a while. 

Then, grinning, you made your way to your own quarters to think things over. You breathed easier knowing that someone was on your side, not just fighting over it. 

The rest of the day was a wash. There was no way you could accomplish anything until your mind was settled, so you fucking napped. You needed it after the past few days with Zoro.

Fuck.

You were dozing in your hanging bed, but just that brief thought of Zoro had your body reacting. 

He’s fucking right. I am needy. 

You wished he’d knock on your door right now, and take advantage of the wetness the thought of him had caused. 

Then your brain woke enough to remember more of the dilemma and you shook yourself, trying to get out of your head.

‘I think you should enjoy them both.’

Robin's playful words twisted through your brain, until you were reaching for yourself again. The thought of Sanji touching himself while you came on Zoro’s cock. The way he’d begged you to fuck him, the way his tongue hung out of his mouth when he heard you moan. 

Your fingers found your swollen clit, so ready to be toyed with after all your recent pleasure. 

Zoro shoving you against the wall, reaching down your pants to test how wet Sanji made you. Sanji tracing his fingers along yours, promising to focus on your pleasure. Zoro shoving his shirt in your mouth to muffle your screams while he fucked you into the floor. 

It didn’t take long for your body to release, and you’d gotten so skilled at holding in your moans that you barely made a sound while you twitched. Panting, you stared at the ceiling and groaned. 

Both? Both. Both is good.

You covered your face with your hands, realizing you’d just dragged your slick along your forehead. Groaning, and laughing at yourself, you hopped off the bed and got ready for dinner. 

Robin gave you a knowing smile when you walked in, and you practically ran to sit next to her comforting energy. The meal went about the same as usual, though you were pleasantly surprised to see that Sanji was giving you space, not pushing like he was yesterday. 

Zoro was still scowling at him, but you were pretty sure he did that everyday.

As you followed Robin out the door, a light tap on your shoulder brought you around. Zoro leaned against the doorframe, and you heard Sanji behind him, cleaning up the kitchen. 

“I, uh-”

“Take watch with me?”

Zoro kept his eyes on yours, but pointed up. You smiled when you saw he was pointing in the opposite direction from the crows nest, so you led the way. 

Settling against the rough wood floor of the crows nest, you pulled your knees to your chest, and tried not to look panicked. 

No matter what, I’m a Strawhat Pirate. Everything else is just gravy. 

Zoro had his back against the post across from you, legs stretched out beside yours. He stopped gazing at the stars to finally meet your face. 

“I think you’re right. I think having a serious relationship with a crew member could be a bad idea.”

Swallowing, you tried to steady your breathing.

“I uh. Fuck. I’m not good at this shit.” 

Your lips curved, but you held in what you could.

“I like you, Y/N. I like you as a crew mate, and a friend.”

Your breath was caught, waiting for him to finish. 

“We shouldn’t go further than that. We can’t make our decisions muddled.”

His eyes seared into yours, and you silently begged him to keep going so you could breathe. 

“I want to keep our arrangement. But I think if I can’t handle sharing you, then we shouldn’t keep going.”

His pauses were fucking killing you.

“I’d like to stay crew mates with benefits, and agree that we can see or sleep with who we want.”

Your brows flew so high, it felt like you might lose them. 

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, Needy. I did the big think, and the big talk. I promise I’ll do it again if I need to.”

You laughed, then caught yourself. 

“Thank you, Zoro. I agree with that arrangement. And we can keep talking about it, please let me know-”

“I will, Y/N... So what happens now?”

“Hmm”

“Are you gonna go fuck the cook now?” 

You held in your laughter again, not wanting to push this struggling swordsman.

“Not tonight. Plus, I need to talk to him first. He might not be okay with our arrangement anyway.”

“Oh, he’ll be okay with it. That pervy cook’ll do anything to get you to touch him.”

You held in your smile as you watched Zoro quietly seethe, resigned to the possibility. 

“Well, Zoro. We can keep talking. We have to keep communicating. If this hurts you-”

“It won’t hurt me. You’re right. We shouldn’t get too attached because it could endanger the group. If I can’t pull my shit together around the waiter, then we shouldn’t risk it.”

Your body was absolutely buzzing. This is crazy.

“And you're sure?”

“Yes , Needy. I’ll let you know if it changes… So now what?”

Your skin was hot as you watched Zoro’s lips, and his strong fingers that flexed as he spoke.

“Well, now I was hoping you’d fuck me in the crows nest,” you teased with finger tracing along his calf.

Zoro’s satisfied smile brightened his scowling face, and you loved to see it. This must have been so difficult for him.  

And now Zoro crawled over to you, an evil glint in his eyes.

Oh fuck.

He kissed your jaw and neck, and you sighed into his gentle touches. Your arms wrapped around him, enjoying the softness, but waiting for his strength to take you. 

Zoro’s lips and tongue kept dancing along your neck and shoulder, and you shivered as you left kisses on his.

His growled words vibrated through your ear, making your body flood, aching for him.

“You’ll still be my Needy girl, won’t you, Y/N?”

“Y-Yes Zoro,” you gasped, back arching for him.

“Needy for me,” he asked before sucking your earlobe, scraping it with his hungry teeth.

“Fuck yes, Zoro. I still need you. I need your cock.”

Zoro took your lips then, holding your body to him, and you almost sobbed with the anticipation of whatever he was about to do to you. Zoro broke the kiss to trail his tongue down your throat, pulling your top over your head.

You cried out as Zoro massaged your breasts, his movements getting harsher as he growled.

Panting, you reached for his shirt, but he tore it off, then pulled your pants down. You took your bra and panties off while you watched him strip, while he stroked a condom onto that long, beautiful shaft of his. 

“Let me see you.”

A moan escaped you, and you set yourself up with your clothes as a pillow before spreading your thighs for him.

Zoro’s eyes shifted even darker, and you could have been scared if you weren’t so ready for him to use you.

Zoro brought his face close to your core, trailing a finger through your folds to see the wet strands as he pulled away. His breathing hitched, and you loved to see how your body affected him.

“So fucking hungry.”

A small moan turned bigger as he entered you, two fingers already going to swift work. Zoro always took your pleasure from you, never waiting for it to arrive. His other hand went for your clit, attacking that bundle of nerves until you were thrashing for him, sobbing so you wouldn’t scream, coming for Zoro as he chuckled over you.

“Can’t get enough, huh? Does my needy kitten want some more?”

“Gods, yes pleeease!”

“That’s right, beg for me.”

You kept pleading, until he set himself up between your legs. 

“Keep begging, Needy girl.”

And you did. You moaned, and gasped and begged until Zoro brought his cock to you, circling it around your clit while you twitched. 

Zoro entered you, so slowly, and you enjoyed every inch as he worked himself into you. 

He looked so satisfied, his eyes still filled with that look, like he’d claimed you. You shivered under him, watching him groan as your body clenched around his. 

Zoro reached his arms under your legs, almost rolling your body as he rested your calves on either side of his neck, your knees almost reaching your shoulders.

Even without thrusting, the change in angles made you writhe, breathing his name. Zoro caged you in his arms, eyes blown out as he stared at your panting lips. 

“Can you take this cock for me, Needy?”

“Yes, Zoro, I can take-”

Your words were choked out of you as you tried not to scream. The angle Zoro had forced you into, was fucking you into, had your mind fucking melting. 

Right as you were about to tell him it was too much, the pain became flooded with pleasure. The feeling was so hot, so sharp, but now waves of vibration shot though you as you came, pulsing and squeezing him with your aching pussy.

“Fuck, Needy. That’s it, baby.”

Moaning under his praise, you started to feel it was too much again, but Zoro took you over.

He snaked a hand around your leg, playing with your clit until you were already so close again, panting and losing your mind. 

“You’re so good at taking my cock, Needy. Show me how hungry that pussy is for me.”

You lost control of your body, your arms and legs clenching hard as you shattered around him. 

“Fuuuck, Needy…”

Zoro twitched above you, but your mind was fucking blank. It was so intense, it almost felt like your ears were ringing as you started to come down. 

Zoro had pulled out of you, and set your legs along the floor. Your heart felt stuck in your throat as he laid himself onto you. His head was resting on your lower stomach, his arms wrapped around your sides. You looked up at the stars above, and almost felt uncertain tears stinging your eyes. 

“Zoro?”

He twitched, slowly lifting off of you.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t let me lay down again. I’m about to pass out naked.”

Zoro shook himself before helping you dress, brushing off your clothes.

You sat there looking at him, catching yourself wanting to cater to his feelings, to focus on his needs. 

Friends and crew mates should do that too, but you knew there would be a fine line to cross before caring too much. 

Instead of asking if he was okay, or if he was really sure again, you decided to trust that your friend was an adult, and had told you the truth. 

“Thanks for helping me out, Zoro.”

The sight of his smug grin was perfect, and you climbed down feeling oh so happy. 

As you crept across the deck you caught the whiff of cigarette smoke close by, and shook your head. 

That’s a tomorrow conversation. But I hope he enjoyed the show.

Giggling to yourself, you raced to your room before any more Strawhats could claim you. 

Rolling into your blankets, you couldn't help your muffled squeals as you imagined what tomorrow would bring. 

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 6

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚟

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: i get to finally, finally write a crumb of domestic fluff in this but then the whore jumped out

✮ cw: wet dreams, public sex, fingering, dirty talk, smoking

✮ wc: 3k

“matty, matty, matty,” jules chants, moving her hips and squeezing around his fingers. his tongue flicks against her collarbone, stubble stinging deliciously against the skin of her neck. 

it’s gonna chafe. it’s gonna leave red marks behind… marks she will later trace and obsess over and cherish. but right now jules throws caution to the wind and focuses on the feel of his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. 

he thumb presses against her clit, eliciting sounds and moans from her like never before, like no one ever has. jules thrusts her hips too, matches the pace of his fingers until he’s fucking her hard enough to make him pant. until she’s sure there will be bruises. 

the windows are open, the door is ajar and she doesn’t care in the slightest—doesn’t care that carly might hear her or someone else might, not when she’s chasing that maddening release that she knows will leave her blacked out for several seconds. 

she doesn’t care until george walks in, frowning at her, not looking away. until he points right at her and says something. but there’s blood rushing in her ears, and the sound of her heartbeat is loud enough to drown out his words and jules can’t stop. she can’t get enough of matty. she ca—

jules jerks awake, panting and practically in a daze, looking around her like she’ll turn and matty would be there, sleeping. although, she can’t quite picture that. she’s never seen him sleeping after all, he always leaves before she’s awake. 

fuck. 

her phone buzzes under her cheek and she realises what’s woken her up. she’s annoyed at first, about to throw it away and go back to sleep, but matty’s name flashes on the screen. she feels her heart lurch in her chest, feels her brain flood with the dream again, and so she cuddles pancake closer, swiping up on the notification.

matty: r u free? matty: do u wanna run errands with me? george ditched me jules: is that one of the benefits i come with? matty: if u want to ;)  matty: i’m fun to be around i promise

she’s sure he is. jules tries to clear her head and focus on typing out her reply. she kind of wants to run errands with him too. it’s not like she has much happening today—she doesn’t have to be at work till 5 pm, and carly doesn’t need any more help with packing.

jules: i’ll need a bribe matty: is my company not bribe enough for u? matty: what do u want  matty: food? coffee? cigs?

she giggles to herself, flipping onto her stomach and crossing her legs. pancake is slotted under her chin, contorted weirdly. 

jules: all of the above matty: ugh! extortion  matty: fine. i’ll pick u up at 10

it’s barely even 8:30. 

time crawls while she gets ready, trying not to check her phone over and over again for any more messages, trying not to check if it’s closer to 10 yet. she even manages to bug carly for a little who asks her about her plans with a coy little smile. 

“with nico?” she waggles her brows after some back and forth and jules shuts down. 

“mm-hmm,” she hums noncommittally, not really meeting her eyes. “i should go. he might show up any time now.”

“do i get to meet him?” carly asks in the same teasing voice. jules pales a little. of course this was going to happen sooner or later. why didn’t she think about this?!

“not…today?” she answers, a bit hesitant. “you’ll get to meet him though, i promise.”

liar, liar, liar! 

she feels worse when carly agrees. she’s lying to her friend and taking advantage of the fact that carly won’t push her. guilt swirls inside her and she almost spills everything. 

would it be so awful if she told carly everything? would she think jules is taking advantage of matty? would she think he is taking advantage of her? 

she sighs quietly, and says her goodbyes, walking into the living room in a much worse mood than she was before. it’s no one else’s fault but hers.

“why do you need that much junk food!” jules giggles as matty tosses one packet of crisp after the other into the shopping cart. 

she was a little quiet during the short drive here, still thinking about everything from before, but matty makes her forget things. and now as they weave through the aisles of big tesco, jules can practically feel her cheeks hurting from all the smiling she’s done.

“george eats a lot,” matty giggles, throwing a pack of sweets in the cart. 

“i’m sure it’s just george,” she retorts, “get some actual food, too, will you?”

“this is actual food!”

“matty!” jules stands toe to toe with him, hands on her hips and her face schooled into a playful glare. matty stares at her too, eyes roaming all over her face. then he lifts up a hand and flicks her nose. 

“it’s so cute you think you can intimidate me,” matty smirks and turns away, walking further down the aisle and leaving her there a bit dumbstruck. 

jules shakes herself and scolds herself a little. it’s stupid that she should let him have such an effect on her. she needs to do better and learn to separate her feelings for fuck’s sake. 

she groans, a little embarrassed when the couple down the aisle throws her a weird look, and runs to catch up with matty. 

“what’s on your list? i’m sure it’s not all this…”

he cocks an eyebrow. “what list?”

“the…” she gestures wildly, trying not to show her exasperation, “shopping list!”

he frowns, throwing her a weird look and not even dignifying that with a response. out the corner of her eye she sees him grab a pack of brownie mix and throw it in the cart. 

“you don’t have one, do you?” she asks pointedly, arms crossed and feet tapping in place. 

“no one under the age of 40 has one!”

“i have one! everyone has a grocery list”

she can already feel her cheeks flaring with heat, with exasperation too. matty’s already biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh at her. it doesn’t feel mean-spirited though, if anything she has a sneaking suspicion he finds all this…endearing. 

“and what would be on your list next, hmm?”

“none of this,” she turns her nose up sanctimoniously. “my body is a temple.”

matty snorts, stepping a little closer to her. “temple… is that why you like me on my knees so much?” his voice turns into a whisper, words breathed right into her ear. “worshipping.”

heat flares in her body as the dream from last night flashes in her mind again. matty, fingers, his car, a secluded car park. 

it’s fucking impossible not to constantly think about how he makes her feel, not when he says things like this to her in public and has her squirming in the middle of the fucking crisps aisle. 

“veggies,” she blurts out, eyes firmly on the ground, “that would be on my list next.”

“veggies,” he echoes. “george would disown me if i came home with just veggies.”

she rolls her eyes fondly at him, pulling him to the aisle with some fresh produce and meat. to his credit, he follows without complaining much. he even lets her select a few things and put them in his cart. 

the entire time, she has a funny feeling in her chest. not something entirely wrong but like she’s not supposed to be here, like she’s not supposed to be a part of this moment that feels so domestic. 

“done?” he asks, startles her a little and jules steps away. 

“yeah you’re ready for checkout, i think.”

the checkout line, to her utter dismay, is not that long. jules doesn’t let herself think why she feels so disappointed. they’re maybe third in line, behind two people with mostly empty carts. to occupy her mind she looks out the window behind the cashier, at the sky that has gone from clear blue to grey and cloudy.

“it’s gonna rain,” matty murmurs, looking outside too. he hovers behind her, his chin practically on top of her head. jules would be touching him if she took even half a step back… so she stops herself, growing rigid and frozen. 

just sex. what they have together is just sex. 

the line moves—it’s their turn now—and the sky outside darkens some more, rumbling a little now. she braces herself for the thunder to come. not that she’s scared of it… but jules has never been a fan of how loud it is. 

“jesus fuck!” she jumps in place and glares at matty when he snickers. the thunder rumbling is not unexpected yet it’s loud—louder than it has any right to be.

“scared?” he teases. jules focuses on the beeps of the items being scanned, at the periodic thunks of it being placed on the other side.

“of a little thunder?” she turns her nose up at him, faking bravado, “never. i just don’t wanna get stuck in the rain.”

“too late now,” he tsks, and together they look out the window again as the light turns watery. the wind picks up, so does the footfall of people running to find shelter. some gather under the awning of the store they’re in, some come inside the store, shivering a little from their damp clothes. 

matty takes hold of her hand. “we could still make it if we ran…”

jules looks down at their intertwined fingers—at the way his thumb grazes over the back of her hand. her heart beats faster in her chest too. she’s seen him naked and has had his fucking cock in her mouth and yet this… this disarms her a little. 

try as she might though, she can’t seem to let go. so she just looks back up and outside the window. fat drops of rain hit the glass, racing down until they all converge into a tiny puddle. 

“could we?”

“what’s the harm?” he points at his jacket, “we could use this as cover.”

she contemplates it for a second, pictures it in her head and laughs—the two of them dashing through the rain, while carrying the shopping bags, under a jacket that isn’t nearly big enough. another rumble from the skies makes her jolt. this time he manages to stifle his laugh. 

“so?” he asks while holding out money for the cashier, crumpled up notes that come straight from the depths of his pocket. 

“alright,” jules nods, picking up one of his shopping bags when the cashier hands them the groceries. he protests of course, but she ignores him completely. he holds her hand again,  a little tighter this time, when they step towards the door. it slides open automatically, and immediately the wind and rain rush to greet them.

“fuck!” jules squeals, “‘m freezing my tits off!”

she groans the moment she hears his little juvenile giggle—a boyish sound that’s so in character for him. “i could warm them for you, you know?”

“you’re such a man!” she rolls her eyes, trying to stifle a smile, but matty pulls her out from under the awning and right into the torrential rain. 

under the thin shelter of his jacket, they huddle closer, their bodies pressed together to keep as dry as possible. the rain is colder than she expected, and the pavement is already slick beneath their feet. 

matty and jules take off running, his laughter ringing in her ears, mingling with the roar of the storm.

“shit, we’re so unhealthy,” she huffs, barely across the car park. 

he raises his brow at her. “we?”

“shut up,” she punches his shoulder lightly. he’s barely out of breath though, looking at her in amusement and mostly drenched from the rain now. 

matty’s curls are plastered to his face too. the water clings to his eyelashes and a drop falls on his nose, making its way down to his lips. it’s mesmerising, in a way—a drop of water on his lips and suddenly he’s the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. 

when the thunder rumbles again—much louder than before—jules staggers to a stop, right in the middle of the car park like a deer caught in headlights. this time he doesn’t laugh, he just pulls her into him and pulls them along, jogging a bit faster.

“you’re okay,” he smiles at her. she shakes her head.

she can see his car now, a slightly old ford focus. the rain falls harder around them, his jacket is no use anymore, she’s already pretty wet. her t-shirt is already sticking too her. matty’s t-shirt sticks to his body too, the rain makes his hair curlier, and jules tries not to stare so blatantly. 

they throw the grocery bags in the backseat the moment they get to his car, parked in a distant corner of the car park, quite secluded too if she’s being honest. jules feels familiar heat build up in her as she slides into the passenger seat. 

matty closes the door and makes no move start the car, instead he turns towards her and pulls a cigarette out. 

“will you smoke with me?” his voice comes out deeper than before. 

jules isn’t stupid. she can feel his heated gaze roaming all over her body, can feel the way he shifts in his seat and spreads his legs that it’s doing something to him to see her like that—wet with her t-shirt sticking to her body, wet with drops of water running down her arms, her face, her throat. 

“come here,” he says and slides his seat back. 

there’s enough room there now that jules could sit on his lap if she wanted to. and she wants to, she wants to so so badly that she’s practically trembling in her seat. 

matty lights the cigarette and takes a drag of it. 

“we’re in public,” she whispers, looking around. 

“do you see anyone?”

she tsks. through the sheets of rain there’s no one to be seen in the entire car park. thrill runs through her. she’s never done something so reckless, and now she wants to do it so badly that she can practically feel herself lurching forward and onto his lap. 

jules takes a deep breath and shifts, settling so close to him that their chests touch. 

“matty,” she practically moans, “can we… can you…”

“can i what?” he takes another drag of the cigarette and exhales it on her face. jules breathes it in, tries to store it in her lungs. he sounds smug, he smirks like it too. “can i fuck you, you mean?”

his words are vulgar and crass. her breath hitches. as if she’s in a trance, jules nods. she can’t look away—can’t look away from his honey-coloured eyes or the wet curls that fall into them, can’t look away from his pink lips around the cigarette and curved into a smug little smile. 

she pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it into her, taking a drag. the warmth feels good in her chest. jules holds it between two fingers, glancing at the small lipstick smudge she’s left behind. 

it makes her feel bolder than before, bold enough to grind her hips on his thigh and whine. she doesn’t miss the way he swallows roughly. 

“jules…” his voice is a low warning, “our proper first time can’t be in a shitty car, darling.”

“you fingers then,” she replies without missing a beat. 

“fuckin’ hell!” matty takes the cigarette back from her, taking another drag of it, blowing smoke into her parted lips. just when she thinks he’s going to say no, he pops open the button of her jeans, pulls the zipper down agonisingly slow. 

jules moans when his fingers slide inside her underwear, brushing against her clit. 

she bends a little, her tongue against his jaw. his skin tastes like rainwater. “fuck me hard,” she whispers in his ear and matty practically whimpers. 

she can feel the warmth of the cigarette nearby. it burns just like she does, she thinks. 

matty gives her no warning before he thrusts a finger in, hard and fast just like she wanted. she practically screams, hand slamming against the window are already fogging. her fingers leave them marks behind. matty staring at her, she can feel it, can feel the intensity of it. 

a second later he adds another finger, moving his hands till he’s created the perfect rhythm for her. jules moves her hips too, sinking onto his fingers again and again while he blows cigarette smoke on her face. she holds onto him tight, swaying her hips until the pleasure burns so hot that she can’t take it anymore. 

a string of incoherent curses leaves her mouth, and then jules chants his name. 

matty, matty, matty. 

just like in the dream. 

she squeezes around his fingers too, crying out loud when they hit the spot over and over again. distantly she’s aware that matty keeps the cigarette away from them, she knows it’s for her own safety. even then there’s an insane part of her that’s convinced she won’t feel it of it were to burn her. she’s convinced nothing will top this. 

jules throws her head back. almost there, almost there. 

“jules…” he breaths her name like he breathes the cigarette smoke on her fake, like a warm caress. she cries out, holding onto him tightly and cums all over his hand. 

an utterly pathetic mess. 

she stays like that for a second, her face in the crook of his neck, panting, trembling. she stays until he takes his fingers out with a wet pop and licks them clean with his tongue, making sure she’s looking at him the whole time. 

then matty offers her the cigarette, half gone now. 

gratefully jules takes a drag of it, still on his lap, still shaking like a leaf. 

“you’ll end me someday,” matty murmurs as if he’s in a trance, as if those words aren’t really meant for her. 

“i think,” jules bends down and kisses the corner of his lip, “i think, we’ll end each other someday…”

[flowercrowncrip]

Why am I against assisted suicide for disabled people who aren’t at end of life?

Here are some things that I’ve personally experienced when I’ve been in various treatable mental health crises as a severely disabled wheelchair user:

Being told by a mental health professional that there’s no hope for me and I’ll always be suicidal because my physical disabilities mean my life is objectively not worth living – and isn’t it such a shame they can’t help me end my life in this country (luckily I wasn’t thinking of my disability when I was wanting to die and this pissed me off enough to stay alive to spite them)

Being told by the talking therapy team at uni that I can’t do talking therapy because I have a (at the time severe) speech impairment and getting sent home with no alternative.

Being told that normally they’d hospitalise someone with my symptoms, but the mental health wards aren’t able to accommodate someone with my physical disabilities so they’re just going to send me home with extra meds and check up on me in a few days to make sure I’m still alive.

So accessing mental health support is harder for physically disabled people despite the huge impact of ableism on our mental health. Like constantly being told you’re not worth saving during the ongoing pandemic. The financial stress of fighting to get benefits that aren’t enough to comfortably live on. Homelessness or being trapped in inappropriate housing due to lack of physically and financially accessible housing. Fighting for appropriate pain management, diagnosis and treatment. Not having access to appropriate funding for carers, mobility aids or other basic daily living aids let alone adaptive equipment for hobbies like video games or painting. The avoidable impact of ableism on physically disabled people is endless but solvable

Until we believe as a society that severely disabled people can and usually do have a good quality of life especially if our needs are met, and until we are willing to actually meet those need, I don’t want to hear about how anyone should be helping certain disabled people to end our lives while preventing everyone else from acting on those same thoughts.