#turn the bottle and let the drink burn

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[hoshifighting]

Aphrodisiac Liquor

Synopsis: Where you're out for a night with your friends, and you decide to try an aphrodisiac liquor, feeling the warmth gradually spreading through your body, your best friend Mingyu starts to appear a little too sexy.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, chocking, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, horny asf reader, fucked out Mingyu, objetification (Mingyu mentions himself as reader's fuck toy), and dick riding.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, enveloping the dance floor in a rhythmic energy that matched the collective excitement of the reunited friends. You stood in the center of the vibrant chaos, surrounded by familiar faces and the lively atmosphere of the night.

Mingyu, your best friend, flashed a wide grin as he clinked his drink against yours. "Cheers to finally getting the gang back together!" he shouted over the music, laughter twinkling in his eyes. The last few gatherings had always felt incomplete, someone missing here or there, but tonight was different. Everyone was present, and the joy was palpable.

Woozi, the voice of reason in your group, raised an eyebrow as he observed the already empty bottles scattered across the table. "I hope you two are keeping your promise about not drinking too much," he teased, sipping his own drink with a smirk.

You and Mingyu exchanged guilty glances, aware that your resolve was already wavering. However, compared to the chaos that was unfolding around you, with Dokyeom dancing his way through the crowd like a human pinball, Seungkwan engaging in animated conversations that almost turned into arguments, and Soonyoung returning from the bar with two more bottles of liquor in hand, you and Mingyu felt relatively composed.

"Alright, I admit, maybe we'll take it easy," you chuckled, watching as Dokyeom narrowly avoided another collision on the dance floor.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, but his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?" he said, pouring a modest amount into his glass.

As the night progressed, the club transformed into a haven of laughter, dancing, and unrestrained merriment. The DJ played a mix of old favorites and current hits, prompting everyone to let loose on the dance floor. Woozi found himself reluctantly pulled into a lively dance circle, while Dokyeom continued his mission to navigate the crowd with unpredictable dance moves.

As Soonyoung proudly presented the array of liquor bottles on the table, your eyes were drawn to one particular bottle covered in an intriguing green and purple cloth. Curiosity piqued, you reached for a shot cup and poured yourself a small measure of the mysterious concoction. The liquid gleamed in the dim light of the club, promising an adventure for your taste buds.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you took a shot, savoring the sweet burn that spread across your tongue. The flavor was unique, a blend of sweetness and warmth that left a tingling sensation in its wake. Intrigued, you picked up the bottle to read more about the drink. Just under the bold name "Har" was a smaller inscription that caught your attention – "aphrodisiac drink."

You chuckled, dismissing it as a mere marketing gimmick. Placing the bottle back on the table, you rejoined the conversation with Chan, discussing music, life, and everything in between. However, as the minutes passed, you couldn't shake the subtle change in the atmosphere around you.

As Chan's voice faded into the background, your focus shifted to an inexplicable sensation coursing through your veins. A warmth, almost like a surge of electricity, tingled beneath your skin, spreading from the center of your being. Mingyu's concerned gaze met yours as you struggled to steady yourself.

"I-I'm okay," you managed to stammer out, trying to mask the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

But as Mingyu reached out a hand, concerned etched on his face, the effects of the mysterious drink became undeniable. Your heart raced, a flush painting your cheeks as your breaths quickened. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt – that bottle, hidden under the cloth, wasn't just any liquor. It was something more potent, something that had triggered a profound reaction within you.

"Maybe it wasn't just a slogan," you muttered, feeling both flustered and perplexed by the unexpected turn of events.

Mingyu's eyes widened in understanding as he glimpsed the bottle's label. His eyebrows shot up, mirroring your own astonishment. "An aphrodisiac drink? Seriously?" He sulks at you.

The room seemed to spin slightly as your senses heightened, and you struggled to regain composure. Mingyu steadied you, concerned. "We need to get you some fresh air," he suggested, guiding you away from the table and the increasingly curious gazes of your friends.

The air outside the club was cool against your heated skin, a welcome relief from the whirlwind of sensations that had taken hold. Mingyu hovered nearby, offering a steadying presence as you tried to regain your equilibrium.

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, feeling the effects slowly subside. "Yeah, I think so..."

The two of you shared a glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring the moment. Mingyu chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Note to self: avoid mysterious cloth-covered bottles from now on."

Mingyu's suggestion to head home triggered a mix of frustration and amusement within you. "I'm fine, really," you protested, your voice carrying a hint of irritation. The effects of the drink had subsided, leaving you feeling more embarrassed than anything else, but Mingyu's protectiveness had a way of both comforting and irking you at the same time.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. You were practically ready to start a revolution back there," he teased, nudging you gently. "Let's not have you causing chaos in the club."

With a begrudging nod, you relented, acknowledging the logic in his words despite your reluctance. The taxi ride was a blur of streetlights and passing cars, the cool glass of the window offering a soothing sensation against your forehead as you leaned against it.

Mingyu sat beside you, occasionally stealing glances to ensure you were alright. "I know it's a bit annoying, but I'd rather get you home safe," he said, his tone softened by genuine concern.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude mingling within you. "I appreciate it, even if I'm not a fan of being babied," you admitted, offering a small smile in acknowledgment of his efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, the cityscape passing by as the taxi made its way toward your destination. Despite the unusual turn of events and Mingyu's overprotective nature, there was a sense of reassurance in having a friend who cared so deeply.

As the taxi rolled along the city streets, the heat returned, and your discomfort grew. The air conditioning in the taxi seemed to be struggling against the warmth, leaving you feeling a bit flustered. Mingyu, ever resourceful, rummaged through the pocket behind the driver's seat and emerged triumphantly with a flyer.

He grinned mischievously, turning the flyer into an impromptu fan. With a flourish, he began fanning you, creating a makeshift breeze that elicited a burst of laughter from both of you. The absurdity of the situation and Mingyu's quick thinking turned the taxi into a scene of amusement rather than discomfort.

Arriving home, the cool air of your apartment was a welcome relief from the residual warmth of the night. Mingyu, seemingly accustomed to the layout of your place, strolled in as if it were his own. The comfort of having him around, especially on a random Tuesday or after an eventful night, was a testament to the strength of your friendship.

As you disappeared into the bathroom for a much-needed cold bath, the sound of the TV coming to life echoed through the apartment. Mingyu had settled onto the couch, making himself at home with ease. The flickering light from the TV cast a soft glow on the living room, creating a cozy ambiance.

The cold water worked wonders against the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink, leaving you feeling refreshed – but not feeling like yourself, since the discomfort between your legs was still noticeable.

As you settled onto the couch beside Mingyu, he handed you a cold bottle of water, his concern for your well-being evident. The movie played on the screen, and you tried to focus on the plot, letting the scenes unfold before you. However, your attention kept drifting to the person seated next to you.

Mingyu's features seemed to catch the light in just the right way – the well-combed black hair, the slightly open buttons of his shirt, and the casual roll of his sleeves revealing the tan skin of his forearms. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on the details that seemed to intensify in the dim glow of the TV. His thick thighs encased in denim drew your eyes, and the flickering light played on his lips, making them seem unusually inviting.

Caught in the moment, your eyes met his, and a sudden awareness passed between you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, attempting to redirect your thoughts back to the movie. You scolded yourself for entertaining such thoughts, trying to dismiss the images that lingered in your mind.

Mingyu, however, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a curious look. "Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes lingering on yours.

You nodded quickly, taking a sip of the cold water to distract yourself. "Yeah, just got lost in thought for a moment."

You fought to maintain your focus on the movie, but an undeniable sweetness lingered on your palate, a reminder of the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink. The cold bath, despite its earlier refreshing touch, seemed futile in quelling the simmering heat beneath your skin. – To be honest, now the bath didn't work shit – It pulsed through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

Your breath, once steady, now betrayed your internal turmoil. It hitched as your cheeks burned, a telltale sign of the heightened sensations coursing through your body. The discomfort between your legs became an increasingly insistent presence, pussy throbbing demanding attention.

Mingyu, sitting casually beside you, seemed to emit an allure that was impossible to ignore. His features, accentuated by the soft glow of the TV, drew your attention like a moth to a flame.

Your body seemed to betray your attempts to remain composed. Mingyu, your trusted friend, had always been someone you found attractive, but in this moment, every detail about him seemed to amplify that allure.

The internal struggle reached its peak, and you couldn't ignore the discomfort any longer. Closing your legs tightly, you attempted to find some relief, the unbidden desire making focus impossible. In a moment of desperation, you closed your eyes, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

Mingyu, sensing something amiss, took a deep breath and voiced his concern. "Are you really okay?" he asked, genuine worry etched on his face.

Opening your eyes, you knew that you looked far from composed, also known as, absolutely fucked. The internal chaos was surely mirrored in your expression. Mingyu, in his caring nature, reached a hand towards your forehead, then gently slid it down to your neck, checking for signs of fever or any indication of what might be troubling you.

As his hand moved across your skin, he could feel the heat emanating from your body, but the cause remained uncertain. The brief journey from your forehead to your neck sent shivers down your spine, and he noticed your body's involuntary response.

Meeting your gaze with a look of defeat, Mingyu asked, "What am I going to do with you?" The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn the night had taken. Mingyu, torn between concern for your well-being and the confusing dynamics of the situation, faced a dilemma that neither of you had anticipated. The unspoken tension lingered, leaving both of you suspended in a moment that seemed to redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

You found a temporary reprieve by supporting your elbow on your knees, your face cradled in your hands, desperately trying to manage the sensations coursing through your body. Mingyu, sensing your distress, gently asked, "Do you need any help?" His hand rested on your knee, the touch seemingly innocent, lacking any intentional undertones.

Lifting your torso, you looked at him with an expression that conveyed both suffering and confusion. "How?" you managed to utter, the desperation evident in your voice.

He pondered for a moment, sincerity coloring his words. "I honestly don't know," Mingyu admitted, his eyes searching for a solution to the unforeseen dilemma.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed loudly, attempting to steady yourself. In a moment of impulsivity, you grabbed his wrist, your eyes still shut, and began guiding his hand higher and higher. 

Mingyu's eyes widened, his attempts to maintain composure faltering. "You're not in the right mind right now," he warned, trying to inject a note of reason into the situation.

You, however, remained persistent, continuing to guide his hand higher with a suffered expression. Mingyu felt a mixture of confusion and a growing awareness that the dynamics of the moment were shifting. He struggled to compose himself, realizing that the unexpected turn of events was challenging not only for you but for him as well.

The charged atmosphere enveloped both of you as you laid your head on Mingyu's shoulder, intertwining your hands together. His touch on your thigh was hesitant, his caress slow and deliberate. Your breath, warm against his neck, sent shivers down his spine.

Mingyu bit his lip, deep in thought as he analyzed the situation. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desires that hung between you two. The grip on your thigh tightened involuntarily as he contemplated the ways to help you, the weight of his own internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a sound that resonated through both of you. Mingyu, caught off guard by the effect his touch had on you, felt his body respond involuntarily. His grip tightened on your thigh, and a subtle warmth spread through him.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you sulked sultrily, your voice a low murmur that made Mingyu's body react. "What are you waiting for?" you whispered, your sultry tone sending a wave of heat through him.

Caught between the tension of the moment and the realization that there was only one effective way to help you, – fuck you until you're fully satisfied – Mingyu hesitated.

"Fuck, Y/N, I don't know," Mingyu uttered, his frustration and arousal intermingling in his voice. The charged tension in the air seemed to escalate as you lifted your face, bringing it dangerously close to his lips. Your noses brushed together, a subtle and tantalizing gesture that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Please Mingyu, please…" Your sultry tone continued to play with his senses, teasing and arousing. Mingyu, caught in the moment, found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. He managed to steal a glance at your tank top, the falling straps exposing your shoulder and the hardened nipple teasingly visible through the fabric.

In an unexpected twist, the charged atmosphere culminated in a daring move. Mingyu suddenly felt the touch of your lips on his, and his initial surprise transformed into a profound connection. Before fully giving in to the kiss, he took a momentary glance at you, a silent agreement passing between your locked eyes.

As your lips melded together, Mingyu's hand instinctively found its way to your hair, holding it gently. The kiss deepened, his mouth opening to caress your tongue with his in a dance of shared desire. The world around you seemed to fade away as you both melted into each other's arms, the unspoken tension finding its release in the passionate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you.

The intensity of the moment heightened as Mingyu's hand ventured inside your tank top, exploring the warmth of your skin, almost burning the skin of his hand. His fingers danced across your belly, tracing the contours of your waist, before finding their way to cup your breast. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and the heat radiating from your skin seemed to intensify under his caress.

Mingyu, his voice a low whisper, remarked on the undeniable heat emanating from your body. "Fuck baby, you're so hot…"

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips as Mingyu's touch on your breast elicited a visceral response. You acknowledged his observation with a sultry tone, admitting, "I know," the words laden with desire. The unspoken tension between you two reached a boiling point as you confessed, "I need you so bad Gyu!" 

Mingyu, propelled by a sense of urgency, swiftly guided you to the large couch. Without hesitation, he laid you down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The fervor of the moment heightened as his hands moved with purpose, skillfully pulling down the elastic of your shorts and panties, freeing your lower half in one fluid motion. 

Mingyu wasted no time, his fingers skillfully exploring inside your wet sensitive folds, making squelching sounds reaching your ears, while his thumb worked circles on your clit, making your eyes close – finally a relief for your body – and Mingyu notices that too, making him smile at the way your body was slowly stopping from being tense. 

"Is it helping?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You nodded, acknowledging the relief his actions had brought, but the sensations left you craving more. "It's good, but I need more," you admitted, the desire for something deeper and more intense evident in your voice.

He teased, recalling your earlier affirmation that it was enough. "Well, you said it was enough," Mingyu remarked, playfully challenging your request for more.

Your plea for increased intensity grew more urgent, and he paused, halting his movements abruptly. The sudden stop made you cry out, the rush of sensations abruptly cut off. "I need more Mingyu-ah!" you begged, your voice filled with longing and a desperate plea for the heightened pleasure you desired.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable intensity as Mingyu, driven by the escalating desire, hastily removed his shirt, buttons scattering in the living room like a visual manifestation of the urgency in the air. His pants followed suit, tugged down with an eagerness that echoed the building tension between you two.

Just when you anticipated he would hover over you, Mingyu surprised you by getting down instead. From this new vantage point, he looked up at you, your legs spread, his gaze locked onto your aroused form, red cheeks, your pussy glistening, hair gluing on your skin and parted lips. 

Mingyu's words, spoken in a low, husky tone, carried a mix of surprise and desire. "I should've seen this coming, but... You look so wet," he remarked, his gaze shifting from your face to your core. 

Mingyu, his eyes still locked on the intimate revelation before him, couldn't help but voice the question lingering in his mind. "Is it because of the drink?" he asked, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You met his gaze, a mix of honesty and desire reflected in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, acknowledging the role the mysterious drink had played in heightening the sensations coursing through your body. But then, with a subtle but deliberate emphasis, you added, "But also because of you."

The weight of your admission hung in the air, and Mingyu, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and arousal, sought confirmation. "For real?" he asked, seeking assurance.

In response, you simply nodded. Mingyu, fueled by the shared desire and the realness of the moment, wasted no time. His mouth found your core, and the sudden sensation made you jolt, "Ah! Mingyu s-shit!" a gasp escaping your lips as you called out his name. 

He rolls his tongue around your throbbing and puffy clit, before sucking it between his red swollen lips. Mingyu's hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer and causing you to slide along the couch. The sudden movement left you in a state of disbelief, and your hands instinctively flew to cover your face. The realization that your best friend was now intimately between your legs, eating you out, overwhelmed you, and a mixture of shock and pleasure lingered in the air. "Fuck- gonna cum…" Your voice cracked.

The rush of sensations made your thighs involuntarily squeeze around Mingyu's head, a surge of pleasure intermingled with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He shot you a glance, a mix of amusement and appreciation for the sudden pressure, as he continued to lavish attention on your most sensitive places. Your feet brushed against the skin of his back, the physical contact adding another layer of intimacy.

The warmth of your release against his mouth sent a shiver through Mingyu, the sensation exhilarating. The way you arched your back, screaming, calling out his name, in a tone he'd never heard you call before, made his cock twitch inside of his boxers. Mingyu found himself reveling in the sensation, realizing that this uncharted territory had opened up a new, unexplored dimension in your friendship.

Mingyu, still basking in the aftermath of the shared moment, took a moment to peel off his boxers. His arousal was evident, and the sight of his cock slapping against his abdomen left you watching in awe.

Feeling a surge of desire, you looked at him with a newfound boldness and asked, "Can I ride you?" 

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire, before responding, "Sure, baby."

The air was thick with anticipation as you straddled Mingyu's thighs, his desire evident in the teasing glare he directed at you. Taking control, you began to pump his dick with deliberate movements, a sly smile playing on your lips. 

Guiding him to your entrance, you felt the stretch as he entered you, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. The ease with which he slid into you only intensified the raw pleasure of the moment. Mingyu's moan of approval, a low and satisfied "Hmmm" echoed through the room.

With your hips rolling in a rhythmic dance, you couldn't resist the urge to pull your top up, exposing more of your tits. However, Mingyu, seemingly wanting control, pushed your hands away. His fingers began to flicker over your exposed nipples, a teasing and tantalizing touch that made you mewl in response.

Mingyu's words, a command laden with desire, hung in the air. "Use me as your little toy," he urged. 

The suggestion lingered, and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, questioned if he was truly willing. "Will you let me?" you asked, smiling mischievous while your hips worked harder. 

His response came in a low, throaty moan, filled with both need and consent. "Yes, I'm yours. Use me as much as you want," Mingyu declared.

"Bet." 

As you lowered your body, sinking your hips harder with each motion, Mingyu's grip on your waist tightened. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving the promise of bruises. Mingyu, fueled by the idea of being your little fuck toy, couldn't contain the rush of sensations overwhelming his mind. 

The rhythm of your hips took on a frantic, fast pace, causing Mingyu to question whether his legs could even leave the couch. The intensity of the experience pushed him to the brink, as his cries grew louder, bordering on uncontrollable, he begged you to slow down, fearing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "Shit b-babe slow down!" His plea held a desperate undertone, a warning of what was to come if the pace continued.

In response, you choked him gently with one hand, a firm yet commanding gesture. "Be quiet," you whispered, a note of authority in your tone. The threat of a noise complaint lingered in the air. 

The sensation of your hand wrapped around Mingyu's throat, barely cutting off his air, made him gasp for breath. The delicate balance between pleasure and restriction sent waves of a delicious intensity through him. As you rolled your eyes, feeling your orgasm approaching, the grip on him tightened, and he arched his back, attempting to hold onto his own release.

The climax approached with an overwhelming force as your pussy crushed Mingyu's cock, inducing spasms of pleasure that rippled through his body. Your moans intertwined with the thick tears rolling down your cheeks, a culmination of the release from the tension that had built up throughout the night. The intensity hit like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling momentarily unstable.

Sensing your need for support, Mingyu struggled in pleasure to get up. He reached out to you, holding you close as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, crying out his name.

"Yeah, baby, I know it feels too good, right? I got you," Mingyu murmured, his words a reassuring melody in the aftermath of the intense orgasm. 

Driven by a lingering desire that had occupied your mind since the beginning of the night, – suck Mingyu's cock until you're unconscious – you decided to act on your newfound craving. Eagerly, you untangled yourself from Mingyu's embrace, his stability still offering support as you made your way towards your intended destination.

Your eagerness didn't leave room for hesitation. With a toss of your hair to the side, you seized the opportunity, pushing Mingyu's cock deep into your throat. The sudden, intense action caught him off guard, and his mouth opened wide in surprise, not expecting the eager and daring move you had just made.

The room was filled with a mix of sounds—the wet, rhythmic movements, his gasps of pleasure, and the unspoken understanding that the night had taken yet another unexpected turn. 

A prolonged "Fuuuuck" escaped from Mingyu's lips as you continued to bob your head incessantly, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your slurping echoing through the room. The intensity of your actions caused his cheeks to flush, and the pleasure you were delivering was almost overwhelming. Mingyu, lost in the sensations you were creating, felt himself melting into the couch, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment. 

Mingyu's tip pushed against the back of your throat, your lips grazing his pelvis. He held onto the material of the couch, feeling the tension radiate through his entire body. The moment climaxed with the forceful release of his cum, the spurts going down your throat.

"Oh my god Y/N!" As you continued to suck, Mingyu's body flinched in the aftermath of his release. His voice, now thin and breathless, pleaded with you to stop.

"Please, stop," he managed to utter, the intensity of the sensations still coursing through him.

You allowed Mingyu's soft cock to fall gently onto his stomach with a faint pop of your lips. Surveying his body, now laid defeated on the couch, you asked, "You okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally releasing their tight grip on the couch fabric. "Yeah," he affirmed, his breaths still slightly uneven.

Mingyu, his voice tinted with a mix of surprise and realization, whimpered, "You were horny as fuck, weren't you?"

A smile played on your lips as you replied, "Sorry if it was too much."

Exhausted, Mingyu closed his eyes and confessed, grinning "I loved it."

Mingyu, with a tired but content sigh, raised his arm, reaching out to pull you into a comfortable embrace. You settled against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. The living room was scattered with discarded clothes, a testament to the intensity of the night that had unfolded.

As sleep began to claim both of you, Mingyu's rhythmic breathing served as a calming lullaby. His fingers gently traced patterns through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful slumber on his chest. 

The morning light filtering through the curtains woke you from your slumber, accompanied by the gentle sensation of Mingyu's fingers tracing patterns on your back. As you lifted your head and rubbed your eyes, you realized you probably didn't look your best. Thankful that Mingyu had seen you wake up before, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment's refuge.

With a husky voice, Mingyu spoke up, breaking the quiet morning atmosphere. "I'm definitely buying another bottle of that liquor for us," he declared, the memory of the eventful night prompting a teasing smile.

The shared sentiment about the unforgettable night echoed in his words, encapsulating the adventurous journey you and Mingyu had embarked on. The unspoken understanding and the newfound closeness between you two lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a bond that had evolved beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

[dante-mightdie]

Viking!Soap who goes off pillaging, as one does in their free time, and comes back to Price with the squealing, kicking daughter of their (now dead) enemy clan’s chief.

Basically, “Look what I caught,” he says as reader kicks at him to let her go, to no avail, as she calls him a brute. He looks at Price like a dog bringing its master a bird.

god I woke up and hour ago to check my inbox and you guys sent in so many good ass requests i’m so proud of all of you

c/w: basically kidnapping, anal, stripping, dub-con/non-con, mentions of alcohol and pillaging, I can’t write in a scottish accent leave me alone

price had already settled down for the evening, his heavy cloak was slung over the chair in the corner of the room. his long hair had been taken out of the same bun he puts it in everyday, mousse brown hair falling in waves all the way down to his shoulders

he had planned on relaxing in front of the fireplace, nursing a bottle of mead but those plans seem unlikely now judging by the sounds of chaos approaching his tent. loud boisterous footsteps and laughter combined with high-pitched shrieks and cries

john knows that it’s johnny before he even sees him, that scottish brogue is unmistakable. he lets out a deep sigh when he finally sees the warrior burst into his home, a wound-up girl slung over his shoulder. price narrows his eyes as he watches johnny manhandle you, your back to his chest as he holds you down with his arms around your waist

“look what a’ found for ye, chief.” johnny says, a big grin spreading across his face as you kick and thrash in his arms, screaming your head off about what a brute he is, “stop yer whingin’, hen.”

“found?” price grunts out, taking a sip of the honeyed alcohol with a seemingly unfazed look on his face. your aggravated thrashes have calmed down to quiet sobs as you plead for these big, horrible men to let you go

“Anno ye said tae leave that clan alone, chief but ah caught this one bathing in the stream and knew ye would like her.” you can practically hear johnnys tail wagging when the apparent chief stands up and walks over to you, gripping your chin to examine your face before letting out a pleased grunt

“ye like her?” johnny all but whines, dropping you to the floor when the chief jerks his head to signal to out you down. you scramble to your feet, taking a few steps back and backing yourself into a corner

price lets out a small amused huff at your fight, downing the rest of his drink in a few big gulps. he walks over to you, your attempts to push him away are pitiful as his hands grip the hem of your dishevelled dress and tears the fabric in two

you squeal and weakly punch at his chest as he strips you down with what seems like no effort at all. your hands only stopping to cover your completely exposed body. johnny takes this as his cue to leave, turning on his heel with a defeated look on his face

“get over here, boy. I’ll let you have a taste after i’m finished with her.” price says, not even turning to look at johnny. instead keeping his animal gaze on your tits as he gropes them with his rough hand, “need you to tire her out so she doesn’t keep me up all night.”

johnny doesn’t need to be told twice as he takes his spot next to the bed, hand sliding up his kilt to stroke at his cock which had been hard since he snatched you up from your burning home

john grabs your upper arm and manhandles you over to the bed, bending you over the mattress and pinning your wrists to your lower back with just one of his monstrous hands

“please.” you plead, “i’m already promised to someone!”

price lets out a proper laugh at that one, lifting his spare hand and bringing it down on your ass with a thundering crack that echoes throughout the room. you squeal out in bed, pushing back your hips when his hand soothes over sore skin

“then I guess i’ll just have to kill him.” he grunts with a weak shrug of his shoulders as he shamelessly gropes your ass. this does little to soothe you as you soon start up your useless kicking and thrashing again. price only responds to this with another hard slap to your ass, “settle down. I’m not gonna fuck your cunt tonight. I know a lady when I see one. I’ll treat you proper on our wedding night, yeah?”

john uses his grip on your ass to spread your cheeks, spitting a fat glob of salvia at the right rim of muscle above your pussy. two of his thick fingers prodding at your ass before slipping inside. you squirm in his tight hold, let out a loud whine

he lets you adjust for a little while, waiting until your cries had settled down to soft sniffles before beginning to fuck your ass with his fingers. johnny makes himself known with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of his cock being stroked under his kilt

your soft pleads for him to stop are coated with cracked moans as he stretches your ass out. ha scissors his fingers inside, pulling them out when he feels little resistance. he fishes his cock out from his trousers and pressing the tip to the entrance of you

you whine and wiggle your hips slightly, your pathetic attempts at trying to get away do nothing to help as he grabs his cock and pushes himself inside you. his fingers couldn’t compare to this burn of being stretched like this on his cock

johnny lets a choked moan, throwing his head back as precum dribbles from his tip

“quit your whining, mutt. you’ll get your turn.” john grunts, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck into your ass relentlessly

his face is inches away from yours, the animalistic glint in his eyes is a sharp contrast to the glossy, subdued look in yours

“he wouldn’t know what to do with a wiley little brat like you, girlie.” he grunts in your ear, one hand coming down to rub your clit with his thumb. he lets out a loud groan when he feels your ass clamp down around his thick cock, “don’t worry, I’ll take all that fight outta ya.”

[hoe-for-hopper]

A Crush On Eddie

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 2 is HERE

WARNINGS: kind of a slow burn, unprotected piv, masturbation (f & m), drinking (reader is drunk, not during sex), vomiting (reader vomits)

Word Count: 4,983 (idk how that happened)

Summary: You've got a crush on Eddie Munson, so you drag your two best friends, Steve and Robin to Corroded Coffin's show. When Steve is too drunk to drive you home, Eddie offers.

A/N: I swear this was supposed to just be a one and done Eddie fic, but oops I got carried away and there's gonna be a part 2 (steddie) sometime in the next few days. Partially unedited, ends on a cliffhanger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Steve, and Robin pull up to the shitty little dive bar that Corroded Coffin is playing tonight. You’re nervous, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like Eddie is even going to notice you. You’re just here to enjoy the show and have a fun night out with your best friends. Besides, you haven’t seen Eddie since you were all in high school and you hardly spoke with him then. He probably doesn’t even remember who you are.

Steve has no clue about your little crush on Eddie Munson. He has no idea that he’s the only reason you dragged them to the Corroded Coffin show. Robin, on the other hand, has been forced to listen to your lust filled rants about Eddie on more than one occasion. 

“Alright, I’ll grab the drinks, you guys go find us a good clean spot to watch them.” Steve shook his head as he made his way to the bar at the back of the room. 

You and Robin found a small table against the wall to the side of the stage. As you two placed your purses and jackets down you looked up and saw Eddie walking towards the bar and your heart skips a beat. He was cute, more than cute, really. 

“Oh God. Why don’t you just go talk to him? It’s not like you two don’t already know each other.” Robin is rolling her eyes as she follows your line of sight to Eddie.

“Because. What would I even say? ‘Hi Eddie, remember how we hardly talked during high school and weren’t even friends? Well, I’ve actually got such a huge crush on you that I dragged my two best friends to your show tonight.’ I mean, come on, Robin.” You let out a heavy sigh and sit down on the stool.

Robin finishes draping her jacket over her chair and sits down, “Well, maybe don’t say that. I was more so thinking of something along the lines of ‘hi.’ You know, something normal.” 

“What are we talking about?” Steve says as he sets down the drinks. 

You catch Robin’s eye and give your head a subtle shake. “Oh, we were just saying how I think that girl over there at the bar is so cute. Y/N was saying I should go talk to her, but I’m just way too nervous.” Robin winks at you as Steve cranes his neck trying to see what girl she’s talking about.

“I didn’t see a cute girl at the bar.” Steve says.

“Oh she must have left already. Anyway thanks for the drinks, I think they’re about to start soon.” Robin spins around to face the stage while Steve is still scoping out the venue for girls.

As all three of you sip your beers and continue talking, the lights dim and Eddie walks onto the stage. You’ve got butterflies already. Robin turns back to look at you, she’s got a knowing smirk on her face. You roll your eyes and take another swig of your drink.

After the first few songs, you start to loosen up a little bit. Steve has gotten you your second beer and you’re almost ready for your third. You really weren’t planning to drink a lot tonight, but you have been wanting to talk to Eddie and you figured the alcohol would make it a little easier.

The next time Steve goes to the bar, Robin pulls you towards the front of the stage. “Robin, what are you doing?” 

“Trying to help you get a closer look at your future boyfriend.” Robin is giggling so hard that a few drops of her beer splash over the rim of the bottle. 

“Please.” You’re rolling your eyes again, but you’re definitely enjoying the close up view of Eddie. You rake your eyes over him and you can’t help but linger on the spot right below his belt buckle. 

“I see you guys are getting in on the action!” Steve comes up behind you and hands you and Robin another beer. “I’m gonna go hang at our table. I’m trying to get this girl’s number, told her to meet me over there.” He walks off towards your table.

You turn back around to face the stage, and notice Eddie is looking right at you. Eddie Munson is looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks away towards the other side of the crowd. 

Robin nudges you and says “Oh my god! He totally just looked right at you!”

You punch her arm and laugh, but a tingly feeling flows throughout your body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Corroded Coffin’s set, you and Robin head back to your table to find Steve deep in conversation with a girl that Robin apparently knows. 

“Well, I’ve got to run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back you guys.” You head to the bathroom in the back corner of the venue. 

You fix your hair in the mirror before walking back outside. As you make your way back to the table, an arm reaches out in front of you to stop you. 

“Hey, didn’t we go to high school together?” It’s Eddie. He drops his arm and steps in front of you. 

“Wow, you scared me. Uh yeah, we did.” Your voice is a little shaky. You can’t believe Eddie is talking to you. You knew it was probably no big deal. It’s not like he was actually famous or anything. His band played at a few dive bars around town and that was really it. 

“I’m glad you came out to the show. Did you have fun? I gotta say, I didn’t think this would be your scene. From what I remember, in high school you were in a different crowd.” He’s smiling down at you. 

You look past him to see Robin staring at you with her eyebrows raised. Steve is also staring at you, the girl he was previously talking to had left. You raise your eyebrows back before turning to look up at Eddie. “Yeah, I remembered you had the band in high school and saw you guys were playing tonight. I thought we’d come check you out.” 

Eddie looks over his shoulder and you see Robin and Steve quickly glance away. “I see you’re still friends with Steve Harrington.” He says his name with an annoyance in his voice. Eddie and Steve didn’t exactly get along in school and it seems like Eddie hasn’t forgotten that. 

You chuckle nervously, “Yep. We’re still friends. So, the show was good. You were really great up there.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I’m glad you had fun. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time? We’re playing here again next weekend.” 

“Maybe we’ll come watch you guys again.” As you walk back towards Steve and Robin, you try not to overthink too much about your conversation with Eddie.

“Didn’t know you were friends with The Freak.” Steve is saying as you all start gathering your things.

“Oh shut up, Steve. We’re not in high school anymore. Can you at least try to act like an adult?” Robin elbows Steve in his side earning a little “ow” from him.

As you all walk to Steve’s car, you’re telling them about Eddie’s band playing here again next weekend. It takes some convincing from you and Robin, but Steve offers to drive again next weekend.

“Do you like him or something?” Steve is asking you as he drops you and Robin off at your apartment.

You roll your eyes at Steve and say, “No, I just think it would be fun. And maybe next time you’ll have a little more luck getting some numbers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve says before he drives off leaving you and Robin giggling at the door.

You and Robin spend the night overanalyzing the conversation you had with Eddie. Or rather, Robin spends the night listening to you ramble on and theorize your outfit for next weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the next weekend rolls around, you’ve spent countless hours going over how you’re going to talk to Eddie again. You’re still too nervous to approach him first, but you know you can’t leave the show without speaking to him. 

You hear Steve honk his horn outside and you make your way out front with Robin trailing behind you. Robin had been helping you get ready and listening to you freak out over what you should say to Eddie tonight.

“You girls ready to go? I hope this time is better than the last time.” Steve puts the car in drive and heads toward the bar.

Robin snorts and says, “Steve, you can’t base the fun you have on how many girls’ numbers you get. There’s more to life than girls.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

When you arrive at the bar, Steve grabs your drinks again and you and Robin head to the same table as last time. Robin nudges you, “Look who’s over there.” She’s smiling and you follow her gaze to the side of the stage where Eddie stands holding a guitar case and surveying the bar. 

When he spots where you and Robin are sitting he walks up to you. “Hi guys. Excited for the show?” 

You’re too nervous to speak, luckily Robin chimes in with, “Oh yeah. You guys were great last time.”

Eddie turns to look at you. You notice how handsome he is when his smile stretches all the way to his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun.” 

Just then, Steve returns and sets the beers down on the table. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

Eddie just gives him a little nod and says, “I gotta get up there, but I’ll catch you guys after the show.” When he says it, he’s just looking at you. You feel a tingling go through your body. You feel electric and you can almost feel the blush creeping up your face.

Steve stares after Eddie before turning back around to say, “Jeeze. What’s his problem?”

Throughout the show, you catch Eddie’s eyes a few times. Of course, Robin immediately notices and nudges you each time. When it’s Steve’s turn to grab the drinks, Robin is asking you if you’re actually going to make a move on Eddie tonight. 

“I have no idea. I mean, I want to, definitely. It’s just, I don’t know, we’re total opposites.” You gulp down the last of your beer. Robin assures you that Eddie would be interested just as Steve reappears with the drinks. You notice he’s swaying a little bit as he sets them down and you’re worried he won’t be able to drive home.

Corroded Coffin finishes their set and starts packing up, but Eddie breaks away and heads straight to your table. You stand up to greet him and that’s when you realize just how drunk you actually are. How many beers had you had? At least four, maybe even five? “Hi Eddie.”

“Hey. Like the show?” He’s still only looking at you and you’re not sure if it’s because he has something against Steve and doesn’t know Robin all that well or because he wants to look only at you.

“Yeah it was really great!” You’re excited and slurring your words.

All four of you talk for a few minutes longer before Eddie excuses himself to help the band finish packing up their equipment. 

Eddie is only gone for a few minutes when he returns just as you’re all gathering your things and getting ready to leave. Steve stumbles as he stands and he grabs the table for support. Eddie sees this and says “Hey man, you all right? If you’re not good to drive I can drop you all off.” Eddie offers.

Steves starts to protest saying that you’re all going to different places, but Eddie cuts in with, “Really, it’s no problem. I’ve got the van, you guys can just pile in the back.”

Robin and Steve turn to face you and your eyes are wide. Eddie Munson driving you home after his show? Of course, he’s also driving Robin and Steve home. And it’s because you’re all too drunk to safely get home. It’s nothing exciting. “Yeah, yeah. That would be really great, thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie leads the three of you out to his van. He offers you the front seat which you happily accept and the other two climb in the back. 

You can hear Steve and Robin giggling in the backseat. You’re hoping Robin isn’t drunk enough to spill your secret longing for Eddie. You know this is just a little crush and you’ll get over it. 

You give Eddie directions to Steve’s then to Robin’s house. Eddie pulls up in front of Robin’s and you get out to walk her to her door. “This is your chance, Y/N. You better go for it.” You whisper at her to shut up as she slips inside. 

Not much is said on the way to your apartment, but you’re filled with an electric buzz throughout your body. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re sitting next to Eddie.

“Thanks so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.” You say as you start gathering your things. Eddie responds that he’s glad to give you a ride. You’re not looking at him, but it sounds like he’s smirking and you blush at where your mind goes. 

You try to get out of the van, but you can’t seem to grasp hold of the door handle without dropping all your things. You laugh as you realize the alcohol is catching up to you. 

“Okay, hang on, sweetheart.” Eddie notices you struggling, gets out of the van, and walks around to the passenger side. He opens the door for you to help you out. “Let me walk you in, I’ll carry your things.”

You hand over your things in silence as you process that Eddie just called you sweetheart. You watch as Eddie fiddles with your keys before finding the one to unlock the door. “Ladies first.” He has one hand on your elbow and the other is pushing the door closed behind you. 

As he sets your stuff down on the entry table you catch yourself saying, “Do you want to stay? I mean, just have a cup of coffee or something? Unless you’re tired. I know it’s late.” 

Eddie says that he would love to, so you head to the kitchen and start preparing a pot of coffee. When you turn back around, you’re hit with an overwhelming sensation in your stomach. You’re going to vomit now. There’s no way you can make it to the bathroom so you  lean over the sink and heave. 

The next thing you know, Eddie is there behind you. He’s taking out the hair tie that had been holding his long hair in a loose bun and pulls your hair away from your face to tie it back. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. You’re vomiting in your kitchen sink in front of Eddie Munson who is currently rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. Through your noises you can hear him saying, “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Despite your current situation, a rush of heat shoots down to your core. 

Eddie helps you to your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water. When he returns, you’ve slipped under the blankets and are almost asleep. “There’s a glass of water on your nightstand. Call me in the morning and I’ll take you to get the car.” He says before turning to leave.

“Wait. You can stay here, it’s late.” You call out to him from your half asleep state.

Eddie stands in the doorway, debating on what to do. Part of him wants to leave to not make things awkward for the both of you in the morning. He’s not sure if you mean he can sleep on your couch or your bed. 

As if reading his mind, you tap on the bed and roll over sleepily. He doesn’t need any more insistence and takes his jacket off before tossing it on the ground and crawling into bed next to you. He leans up to look at you and realizing you’ve already fallen asleep, he lays back down. As he does, he catches  a glimpse of lacy black underneath your skirt that’s crept up your thighs. 

Eddie is completely still on his back next to you. He’s never told you this, but he had a huge crush on you in high school. He was more than surprised when he’d noticed you while he was on stage last weekend. During the entire set, he had been thinking of ways to talk to you before you left. He was a little disappointed when he realized you were friends with Steve and he’d been hoping Steve wasn’t going to talk you out of coming to the next show. 

When he’d seen you again tonight, he couldn’t wait to talk to you. He’d been hanging out at the side of the stage, waiting for you to walk in. He spent the entire show trying not to stare at you the whole time. He felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He loved the way your short skirt flowed around your thighs. 

Eddie felt you shift, as he looked over he saw that you had kicked off your half of the blanket. With your skirt almost completely up your thighs, he had a perfect view of the lacy black underwear you were wearing. He felt the bulge in his pants grow. 

He knew it wasn’t right to stare, but he couldn’t help it. As quietly as he could, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Slowly, he pulled his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. 

As Eddie began stroking himself, he imagined what your hand would feel like wrapped around him. He thought about you staring into his eyes as your hand went up and down. He wondered what you would taste like.

Eddie continued to pump his hand up and down while alternating between staring at your ass and imaging all the things he could do to you. He lifted his shirt just as he spilled onto his stomach. Carefully, he got out of bed and made his way to your bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, he draped the blanket back over you and laid down next to you. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’d just finished himself off a few inches away from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you’re awoken to the sound of a voice coming from your kitchen. It takes you a second to remember that Eddie Munson spent the night.

“Oh, you know what, here she comes now.” Eddie hands you the phone as you walk sleepily into the kitchen. You see he’s already made a pot of coffee and is now cooking breakfast.

You know it’s Robin before you put the phone to your ear, you can already hear her voice. “Y/N, was that who I think it is that answered your phone? Was he there all night? What happened!”

“Yes and yes. I’ll call you later okay?” You hung up before Robin could say anything else. “Hey, thanks for the coffee. You really didn’t have to make breakfast though.” 

“After what you did last night, I figured you’d need some energy this morning. Don’t worry about it.” 

You’re shaking and it’s not from the alcohol last night. You’re still trying to piece together what happened. After what I did? What did I do? And then it all comes rushing back to you. You vomited in your kitchen sink right in front of Eddie Munson. And then you invited him to bed. And he accepted the offer. 

Eddie sets a plate down in front of you and leans against the wall sipping his coffee. “I figure we can pick Steve up, take him to get his car. And then…” He pauses, unsure if he should say what he’s thinking. You raise your eyebrows and he continues, “And then I was thinking later tonight, you might want to grab dinner? With me, of course.” 

You almost choke. Is Eddie asking you out on a date or are you reading way too much into things? “Yeah, yeah sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eddie drops you back off at your apartment after taking Steve to pick up his car. As soon as you’re through the door, you’re calling Robin. “Robin, oh my god.” You gave her a recap of exactly what happened the previous night - vomiting included. 

“You threw up in your kitchen sink and he still slept in the same bed as you. Wow.” Robin is laughing hysterically. “Steve, did you hear that? She threw up!”

“STEVE is there? Oh god, Robin I don’t want more people knowing about this. It’s embarrassing enough that I have to know.” You groan and slide down the kitchen wall to the tile. 

Steve has grabbed the phone from Robin. “Are you dating Eddie now? Because if that freak can get a date easier than I can, I swear…”

“Shut up. No, we’re not dating. Nothing even happened. Sure, we slept in the same bed, but that’s it. Okay?” Even as you’re saying it, you still can’t believe it happened. You tell Steve and Robin bye before you hang up and start getting ready for your date with Eddie.

As you’re in the shower, you think of all the things that could have happened had you not passed out. Your hand slips down to your folds as you slide your fingers around in small circles. You’re imagining it’s Eddie’s hands touching you. As you climax, you’re imagining Eddie’s fingers pumping in and out of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re just finishing getting dressed as you hear a knock on your door. “Come in! I’ll just be a minute!” After trying on almost everything you own and calling Robin countless times for advice, you’d settled on a short flowy black dress.

When you emerge from your room, Eddie is sitting on the couch. As he looks up at you his eyes go wide and all of a sudden you feel self conscious. You look down at yourself and smooth your hands down your dress. “You look…incredible.” Eddie finally manages to choke out.

You smile at him and he almost melts. He rakes his eyes over you and without meaning to actually do it, he licks his lips. “You ready to go?” He stands up and grabs your hand, leading out to his van.

You feel an electric buzz that flows throughout your body, centered on where your hands meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can hardly remember dinner as Eddie opens the passenger door to his van, helping you inside. You spent the entire time trying to think of ways to invite Eddie back to your apartment after dinner. You also spent quite a bit of time staring at his hands and imagining what they could do to you. So by the time you’re settled inside the van, your core is already pulsing with need. 

When Eddie arrives at your apartment, you’re surprised when he gets out of the van to follow you inside. “I thought we could hang for a little longer? I’ve been really enjoying talking to you.” He says shyly as you set your things down. 

The two of you sit on the couch and continue the conversation you’d been having about Steve. “He’s really not so bad once you get to know him, I promise.” You’d been trying to convince Eddie that Steve was actually a great friend.

“Well, I’ll believe that when I see it.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders.

Neither of you have mentioned the previous night. You know it’s probably not a big deal, nothing happened and Eddie was just taking care of you after you’d drank too much. 

“Want a beer?” Eddie nods his head ‘yes’ so you head to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. 

When you return to the living room and hand Eddie the beer, your hands brush and neither of you pull away. When you sit down next to him, Eddie leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table. He turns to look at you, “You know, you really do look incredible. Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you set your beer down next to his. “T-thank you. You look pretty handsome too.” And he does. He’s wearing dark jeans, black shirt, and a dark leather jacket. You can’t help but think what he looks like under his clothes. As you look him up and down, your eyes stop on his lap. You can see a bulge, a very big bulge, under his jeans.

Eddie sees you notice and lets out a little chuckle. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach towards him and run your hand from his temple to his cheek.

Eddie stills, shocked. After a second, he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Foreheads touching, you stare into each other’s eyes for just a split second before your lips meet.

Eddie’s hands are roaming up your back now, your hands tangled in his hair. “Fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you at the bar.” He says into your mouth. 

“Mm. Me too.” You breathe just as he rolls his hips hitting your sensitive bud and you let out a moan. 

This is better than he imagined in your bed last night while he pumped himself. “I touched myself last night thinking about this. I was thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face. 

His words and the friction make you moan into his ear. You tell him how you fingered yourself in the shower, imagining his fingers inside you.

Eddie swears he could cum just from hearing you talk. He scoots you back so he can pull his jeans down before grabbing your hips and rolling them across his cock. Eddie lifts up your dress and pulls your panties to the side. “Is this what you want?” He asks as his finger brushes your clit.

“Mhm. Yes, please, Eddie.” Your hands are pulling his hair and you place kisses down his face before sucking a mark on his neck. 

Eddie lifts you up so he can swipe himself through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding you down. You gasp as you take the full length of him before tugging his hair even harder.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size before bucking up into you. You can’t hold in the moans that escape from your mouth and your entire body is trembling. You’ve never felt so full. You weren’t a virgin, but it felt like Eddie was stretching your walls as far as they could go. 

“Yeah? Is this what you thought about in the shower?” You can’t speak so you just nod your head ‘yes’. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Y-yes, this is b-better than what I imagined.” Eddie moved his hands from your hips to pull you to his chest. He cradled your head with one hand with his other resting on your lower back. 

Kissing your head he murmured praises into your ear. “You’re doing so good.”

“Eddie.”

Still inside you, he lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom. Placing you down on the edge of the bed and kneeling between your legs, he continues to pump in and out of you. Pulling your dress up he groped at you while using one hand to pull your legs to his neck. “Oh, you’re so wet for me, baby. Gonna cum soon?”

You can’t form words, you moan in response. But remembering what Eddie said earlier you manage, “Gonna cum.”

“Cum on me, baby.” he moves the hand from your tits to circle your clit. In seconds, you’re gushing around him. “That’s it, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

Incoherent words and moans fall from your mouth as Eddie fucks you through your high. His thrusts become erratic and he’s moved to holding both your legs up against his chest. He’s gripping your calves so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?”

Shakily, you whisper, “Inside me. Please.”

“All mine.” Eddie pulls you towards him as he thrusts and releases himself deeply inside of you. “Fuck.” He whispers as he lets your legs down and helps you into the bed. His jeans still around his ankles, he takes them off before climbing in beside you. 

You turn to face Eddie, your eyes glazed over, “I guess our date went well.” He laughs and pulls you in tighter. 

Eddie is tracing shapes along your back, “We’re playing at the bar in a few days. What do you say if you come as my girlfriend this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You nuzzle your head into his chest. 

Just as the two of you are drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, there’s a knock at the door. You both sit up and listen to the person knock again, louder. “Hello? You guys in there?” 

You look at Eddie with wide eyes, “It’s Steve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 is HERE

[gojonanami]

"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries. ✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded ✴︎ wc: 821

This was probably a stupid idea. 

And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today. 

Suguru was gone. 

Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends. 

And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you? 

So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments. 

Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it? 

And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him— 

Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity. 

“Satoru? What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,” 

“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—” 

“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.

And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?” 

“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—” 

“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—” 

“You weren’t his best friend—” 

“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning. 

“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut. 

“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,” 

You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.” 

And you did, forever. 

✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.

✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo

[vmpgothic]

LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[tommysversion]

Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

[delirious-donna]

There’s A Girl In My Tub [Part Two]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Kento walks in on a woman he doesn't know neck-deep in his bath. What is he meant to do now?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: reader described as having hair that can be put in a ponytail, SFW

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three

The mistake was clear from the second he lunged inside the bathroom. Where he had presumed to find his younger sister submerged in his tub, sat a woman he did not know splashing and spluttering from both the shock of being jump scared and the bubbles that shot up your nose.

Kento wasn’t sure what his predominant emotion was, whether it be complete mortification for interrupting someone bathing or indignant anger at the complete stranger using his apartment like some kind of luxury hotel.

“Who the fuck are you?” The stranger half yelled, half spluttered.

Realisation dawned on him like icy dread spider walking up his spine. What had meant to be a practical joke was no longer looking so funny.

“You’re not Karin…” He said matter-of-factly.

At this point, he was simply stating the obvious. What he found interesting was the comprehension that he could see illuminated in your eyes. You might not be Karin, but you knew who she was. The connection between the two of you was what he needed to establish next, or well… after he found out your name.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

His eyebrow cocked in a mixture of continued annoyance and the first hint of curiosity. Given that you were familiar with his sister meant you weren’t some crazy intruder, not that he thought that in the first place given your luggage in his room and the fact that you couldn’t have gained access without a keycard and code.

You offered your name in no more than a timid squeak, and he didn’t recognise it. He huffed a tired exhale and turned towards the door to give you a modicum of privacy. His mouth opened to speak, but you beat him to the punch, silencing him effectively with your more confident tone.

“Look, can we not hash this out whilst I am naked in your bath? Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you in the living area,” you enthused, hands gesticulating wildly. It sent a flurry of bubbles into the air which Kento watched before giving a curt nod of agreement and stalking out without uttering another word.

He needed a drink in the worst possible way, even if it was only early afternoon. It was going to be entirely necessary to indulge in his top-shelf liquor to help with his current predicament.

Once more, he glanced at the haphazardly packed case open on his bed. This time studying the contents a little more closely. Perhaps he should have considered doing this earlier, as one glance was enough to confirm that even the style of clothing was so unlike his sister, not to mention the stuffed animal, which he guessed resembled a bunny rabbit despite its ragged appearance. Karin hadn’t been one for stuffed toys, preferring dolls and the pretty furniture to fill ornate dollhouses growing up.

Speaking of his dearly beloved sibling, Kento fished his phone from his pocket as he made his way back to the kitchen. He cradled it between his ear and shoulder whilst selecting a crystal tumbler and a bottle of scotch. The ringing went to voicemail. Of course, it did.

“Karin, call me. I don’t appreciate surprises, and you owe me an explanation.” He kept it short and sweet, his specialty. He pushed the phone across the kitchen island and turned to lean his back against the pantry door.

What the hell was going on? He mused silently, swirling the dark amber contents of his glass before bringing it to his lips and swallowing a healthy mouthful. The liquor coated his teeth and burned his throat as it slid into his mostly empty stomach.

Everything had happened in such a rush that he couldn’t even picture your face as he waited. He hadn’t thought to get a good look at you, not when the circumstances were so intimate–vulnerable even. Not for the first time today, his palm scrubbed down his face. What must you think of him? You were this–he floundered for a moment in thinking of how to accurately describe you–young woman, naked and trapped in a room with one exit. An exit that he had blocked with his body.

He groaned, pressing the cool crystal tumbler to his temple and rolling it across his forehead. This was exactly the type of situation you saw in horror movies, except he wasn’t some crazed killer on the hunt for young virgins or any young women for that matter, but he would understand if you were fearful of him. It would only be logical.

As if summoned by thought alone, the soft pad of your socks alerted Kento that you had finished with the bath. He glanced sideways, eyeing the simple black leggings and an oversized sweater emblazoned with the logo of Karin’s college, and some pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place.

Your hair was mostly dry except for the ends that had been splashed by the unexpected dunking they had received, the strands tied loosely into a ponytail that softened the stern expression plastered across your features.

Standing with the kitchen island between you as if it afforded you some semblance of protection, Kento tried not to smile when you folded your arms across your chest and tilted your chin in his direction. The sleeves of your sweater engulfed your arms so completely that only the tips of your fingers showed. He admired your courage in the face of a stranger, a male one at that, and one that could likely impose his height and weight against you if he so inclined. Sure, he admired it, but it was also incredibly dumb.

“Did you enjoy your soak?” He asked, taking another sip of scotch to hide the quirk of his lips.

Your eyes narrowed. Damn, he hadn’t felt amusement like this in the longest time. Some would claim that he didn’t have a funny bone in his body, but they were wrong. Kento simply didn’t entertain cheap humour, and this situation was far from bargain basement.

“I was. That is until this massive oaf leapt inside screaming like a maniac and scaring the life out of me.”

That was enough to wipe the smile from his face. Kento straightened and set his tumbler down. He ran a hand through his hair and endeavoured to end this charade right here and now. To hell with the fact that you amused him, he didn’t know you from Adam.

“How do you know Karin? And I am not an oaf, for the record,” he added with what sounded even to him as a touch of petulance.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s my friend, maybe even best friend, actually. We go to the same college, different majors though. How do you know her? Are you her dad or something?”

It was Kento’s turn to narrow his eyes. He could see it for what it was, a direct jab at him, but you didn’t truly believe he could possibly be her father, or at least he hoped not!

You picked at your nails whilst the silence lingered on. He debated whether to rise above your petty attempts at riling him, but something stopped him. Kento was the level-headed one, always reasonable, however, something about you crept beneath his skin.

“Can’t be that much of a best friend if you don’t even know that she has a brother… that would be me, by the way. Hi. I’m the brother, and this is my apartment. I do hope this is some kind of elaborate joke.”

Sure enough, his aim was true. Your face crumpled at the truth he laid out so cruelly. Instead of feeling some sense of triumph for gaining the upper hand, he resigned to the guilt settling heavily in his chest. He almost rubbed at his heart but stopped at the last second.

Why did he care? That’s what he really wanted to know. Yes, you were cute. He was a man after all, he could appreciate your soft feminine features, but he was hardly known as a man who sought out the company of the opposite sex often.

Kento pinched the bridge of the nose. It was upsetting to watch you fold in upon yourself like this, your shoulders hunched inward and your head bowed low. He cared, and that was surprising. He wished for that spark of confidence to ignite again, longing to kick himself for being the one to douse it in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was cruel of me, but you did call me her dad!” He tried to rationalise his outburst, and he was glad when your head snapped up to scrutinise him. “We’ve started on the wrong foot. Can you blame me for acting a little irrational? I’ve never found an intruder in my home before, let alone a naked one in my bath. Why are you here?”

Without a word, you stretched out a hand for his near-empty glass, swallowing down the remnants in one gulp. You hissed through your teeth, dancing on the spot whilst the potent alcohol slid into your belly to warm you. Kento cocked his eyebrow but chose to remain silent.

He had so many questions. Why you were here in his home was curiously not at the top of the pile, but it seemed inappropriate to be querying your age and probing your interests at this point in the conversation. Not to mention, you were his sister’s friend, nothing more.

Nothing more, Kento.

“Well, your darling sister told me this was her place, and that it was empty right now. Clearly, neither part was true, and I will be taking that up with her as soon as she answers her damn phone!”

“Hm, so Karin is avoiding your calls too. Curious.”

You blew out a long breath, the strands of hair framing your face dancing around and… Kento glanced away, refusing to acknowledge the desire to fix them behind your ear.

“Aren’t you on spring break? Why aren’t you shacked up in some overly loud and raucous resort? I’m certain that’s where Karin will be right about now.” Kento rolled his eyes at even thinking about it. He well remembered his years in college and how he loathed this time of year. It was his idea of hell.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you walked around the edge of the kitchen island and hopped up to sit yourself closer to him. Again, he cursed your trust. He could be lying to you. He could have nefarious intent. So why did it make him want to protect you all the more?

“No thanks. I’d rather catch up on some classes and prepare for the new semester, but…” You trailed off, eyes lowering to your fingers which continued to fidget incessantly–an annoying habit he noted.

“But what?” Kento got the sense that he wasn’t going to like your answer much. He braced for it, both palms flush on the marble countertop and coaxing you into maintaining his steady eye contact.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can go. My parents are renovating, and I can’t afford to rent a place for two weeks, at least not somewhere actually habitable.”

Kento froze as the weight of your words washed over him. There was a chance that Karin was truly being a good friend since she had been aware of the business trip he was meant to be on right now. It would be so like her to help out a friend in need.

Was he meant to toss you out on your ass? He was within his rights, of course, but could his conscience allow it? It was obvious you weren’t lying or exaggerating to gain his favour, you looked just as uncomfortable telling him the truth as he did hearing it. This whole situation was a mess, and he didn’t see a clear way out of it.

Well, shit…

[crashandlivewrites]

Venom on My Tongue

This has been my baby for a long time. I've put a lot of love into this and thought it was finally time to share it with everyone. Much love to @soapsgf for being with me through all of it.

Pairing: Captain MacTavish x fem!reader

Summary: It started tame. A bartender and a patron with too many burdens bottled up that he'd rather empty another than tip himself over and let it all out. But ethanol fires burn invisible, and you couldn't see the cracks forming until it was too late.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, (very) toxic relationship, sex, DUBCON/NONCON with one scene but it's very prominent, angst

Word Count: 28.7k

You weren’t supposed to be working tonight. In fact, this was your seventh night shift of the week, and you were running on fumes, as apparently, were all the army personnel at the bar right now. Grabbing the dustpan and brush, you swept up the eighth glass that had been smashed tonight within the span of two hours. 

Once the mess had been cleaned, you disposed of the shattered glass and returned to the front, feeling thankful the night was almost over. Service wise, at least. You’d already started closing, making sure the bar itself was clean, and the glasses were in the wash when your ears caught an indignant sounding tap on the bar. Raising your head, you noticed a young guy, probably a fresh recruit to the army base nearby, given the cocky spring to his step and glowing face. He hadn’t been through enough to have his emotions beaten down like the other veterans had. 

“Just another pint of lager, if you please.” He winked, elbows leaning on the bar. Gritting your teeth, you sighed in annoyance. 

“Last call was half an hour ago, mate. The bar’s closed.” 

“Aw, come on. I’ll make it worth your time.” He pulled a twenty-pound note from his wallet, wiggling it in front of his face. Your eyes narrowed. 

“An extra twenty means nothing when my job is on the line. The answer is no.” 

“I didn’t hear the call, musta been in the loo. I’ll keep it a secret, swear!” Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you shook your head, turning your body around and calling over your shoulder. 

“The answer’s no. Now get moving. or I’ll have you escorted out.” 

The recruit’s eyes hardened, and his tone turned sharp. 

“You’re a right fucking bitch, you know that? It ain’t that fucking hard to pour a pint. Should learn some proper respect for us soldiers—” He was interrupted by a loud slam, and he let out a sharp cry. Whipping around, you saw the young recruit cupping his face, blood pouring profusely from his clearly broken nose. Standing behind him was the broad man who’d been quietly sitting on the corner of the bar, drinking scotch all night. 

“Think ye need tae have a lesson in respect, crow.” The newcomer’s accented voice was gruff and short, his hand gripping the collar of the recruit’s jacket. 

“Just wanted another fuckin’ drink!” 

“And the lassie said the bar’s closed, ye doaty bawbag.” The tall Scot leered down at the recruit, who had finally shut his mouth. “Why don’t you and yer pals take yer leave for the night? Yer nae wanted.”

Mumbling incoherently under his breath, the young man backed off, scowling at the Scot, but didn’t press the matter, heading back to his friends and leaving your bar. Sighing in relief, you turn to the man, a smile on your face. 

“A sheòid.” You thanked him, in what you were sure was a terrible pronunciation of Scottish Gaelic that you’d picked up from the last group of Scotsmen that had passed through the bar. To prove your point, the man snorted, shaking his head as he smirked. “I’d offer you a drink in thanks but, bar’s closed.” 

“It’s nae bother.” He shrugged, reaching over to drain the last of his glass, placing it on the bar in front of you before nodding and running a hand through his ridiculous haircut. “Take care o’ yerself, lassie.” And then he was gone. 

•••

The next time you saw the mysterious man was on a busy Friday night. Army personnel were mixing with the regular townsfolk, making the bar rowdier than normal. You had been serving a group of men their drinks when he slipped in, the mohawk shaved into his head making him stand out, as he made his way over to the same spot at the end of the bar that he’d occupied last time. You hadn’t realised you’d been watching him so intensely until you felt cold liquid spilling onto your hand. Cursing at yourself, you shut off the tap and wiped the glass before handing it over. 

Wiping down the mess you’d created and washing your hands, you reached up on the shelf for the same scotch he’d ordered last time. It was perfectly normal to remember his drink of choice, you reasoned with yourself. He’d helped you after all. Pouring a glass, you took it over to him, his brows furrowing slightly. 

“I didnae order anythin’.” He said, lifting his head up to stare at you. The gaze was steely, but you held it firmly. 

“It’s the drink I owe you. For last time.” 

“Didnae do it fer charity.” Now it was your turn to frown. 

“Do you want the drink or not?” Instead of receiving another gruff reply, the man chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I’m havin’ ye on, lassie. Keep the heid.” Bristling as he laughed, you pushed the glass towards him before turning around and heading back to serve. 

It wasn’t until the end of the night when you got the chance to speak to him again. You hadn’t served him, having purposely put yourself on station at the other end of the bar. But you were closing, and the other servers had eventually clocked out, leaving you alone with a couple of drunkards and the grumpy Scot, with most folk having moved on to more livelier venues. 

You’d begun to clean when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye tap his empty glass on the counter. 

“Dinnae ignore me, lassie. It’s nae my fault ye cannae take a joke.” 

“I’ve been busy. And you’ve clearly been served.” You pointed to the glasses he’d collected to his left. 

“Aye, nae by you though.” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

“Och, c’mon lassie. Ye ken I didnae mean it.” He was smirking, clearly enjoying the fact he was riling you up. Taking a deep breath in and out, you placed your towel on the bar and turned towards him. 

“Do you want another?” You asked, motioning to the empty glass. His smirk morphed into a grin, and he slid the glass over to you. 

“Ta, lassie.”

•••

The next time, he hadn’t even been in the bar. In fact, you hadn’t even noticed him at all. You were rummaging through your bag under the dim light of the streetlamp which, maybe, wasn’t the smartest idea in hindsight, but your car keys had simply vanished. Swearing under your breath, you began shuffling things to the side and pulling stuff out, placing it on top of your car. You were so entirely focused on the interior of your bag, that you didn’t hear anyone approaching until it was too late. 

Something sharp and hard pressed against your back and your breath hitched, body freezing instantly as your eyes widened, glancing in the window of your car to see a hooded figure behind you. 

“Gimme the bag.” The man spat viciously, nudging you forward slightly so your chest was pressed against the cool metal. 

“Okay! Just take it.” Your voice pitched higher than normal, quickly working the straps of your bag off your shoulder to hold it out to the man. But he never took it. 

Instead, his weight was gone and the sick sound of a fist hitting flesh made you jump. Whipping around, you see a large man with a familiar mohawk shaved into his head, crouching over your would-be mugger. 

“Ye think yer brave?” You heard him sneer as he pressed the man’s face into the gravel of the car park. “Sneakin’ up on a lassie. Yer a right cunt.” You flinched again as his fist collided with the man’s face, causing him to let out a low moan of pain. Reaching down, the Scot hauled the mugger to his feet before shoving him away. Disoriented, he stumbled back, a hand up defensively. 

“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t trying to—”

“A load of fucking pish yer talkin’. Fuck off or I’ll cut ye baws from ye nethers.” The mugger— just a kid you’d come to realise now that his hood had fallen back— scrambled away from John, bolting into the night with his tail between his legs. 

Shrinking back against your car, you hugged your half-emptied bag to your chest as the man turned around. His face was harsh, still drawn in a scowl as he looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Are ye askin’ tae get hurt? Dinnae walk wit yer head in the clouds.” His tone was harsh and his eyes sharp. 

“I was just trying to find my keys.” You choked out, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. “I didn’t realise— I’m sorry!” You hiccuped and the man’s angry expression fell, replaced by concern. 

“Shite, I didnae mean tae scare ye. C’mere lassie.” He stepped forward with open arms and, against your better judgement, you found yourself moving forward to be held. Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight into his chest. He smelled strongly of tobacco, enough that it normally would make your nose curl in disgust, but in this instance, you buried your face in his chest, seeking his protection and comfort. 

 The man held you until he felt your breathing slowly level out. Gently, he squeezed your shoulders until you lifted your head to look at him. 

“Awryt?” He tilted his head to the side, raising the scarred brow as he looked down at you, his blue eyes much softer than they had been before. 

“I think so.” Your eyes traced over the features of his face, lingering on the scar across his chin. “Who are you?”

“John.” He said simply. You frowned.

“I need more to go on than a name, John.”

“S’all I can tell ye. Any more will bring ye more trouble than I’m worth.” 

“Thank you, John.” You let your head fall back into his chest, breathing in his tobacco-laced scent once more, as you slide your hands underneath his jacket, holding him close. His chest rumbled as he chuckled lightly, a hand running through your hair. 

“I’ll take care of ye, darlin. Dinnae fash yer wee head.” 

•••

The next time he popped his head into the bar, it was a quiet night mid-week, and you couldn’t stop the delighted grin from spreading over your cheeks. 

“John!” You greeted as he sat down, already reaching for his usual and pouring a glass. The twinge of amusement in his expression was easily read, his eyes twinkling as they bored into yours. 

“Ye been waitin’ on me or something, darlin?” He asked, reaching for the glass. 

“Or something.” You teased, throwing the towel over your shoulder as your expression turned slightly more serious. “I don’t think I ever—”

“Dinnae thank me, lassie. Please. Wasnae doin’ it fer praise.” Your face fell, brows knitting together as you let out a soft ‘oh’ before making a move to turn around. A hand gripped your wrist, making you look back. “I meant ye dinnae need to thank me. I was just lookin out fer ye. Makin’ sure yer safe ‘n all. Bonnie lass such as yerself shouldnae be working alone late at night.” 

You couldn’t stop the heat that was climbing up your cheeks at his compliment, so you ducked your head. 

“Still. You could have gotten hurt.”

John barked out a laugh, making you jump back in surprise at the intensity of it. The wrinkles around his eyes creased, keeping the wide grin on his face as he looked back at you. 

“It’s sweet ye think they could hurt me.” 

“They could have! The mugger had a knife—”

“He had a screwdriver, lassie. ‘Sides, I’ve dealt wit much more out on the job.” It was the first time he’d ever mentioned work in front of you. Yes, you’d assumed he was a soldier, a highly skilled one at that. They carried a certain look about them, one they all shared. And John had that look about him, while also bearing an air of something slightly more sinister. You refilled his glass as you spoke, glancing over your shoulder to check there was no one waiting at the bar. 

“I now know four things about you.” You announced. His brow raised with interest as he took a sip. “Your name’s John, you’re a trained soldier, you drink scotch, and you have a penchant for protecting poor girls like me.” 

He gave a breathy chuckle, shaking his head at your conclusions. 

“Almost right, lassie. I like protecting you.” The last word was said with a heated intensity, causing you to swallow thickly. Burning questions bubbled up your throat, threatening to spill, but you managed to keep your mouth shut, asking none of them. 

“Well, I suppose I should thank you for your service.” 

“No need. Keep refilling the glass and I’ll be fine.” He said, draining the glass. 

“Watch yourself, John. I might need to cut you off if you’ve had too much.” You refilled his cup yet again. His brow pinched in mock offence. 

“I’d sooner keel over before ye see me pished enough tae cut me off.” 

“We’ll see then.” You mused, raising your brow and, regretfully, turning back to your duties. 

He proved you right, still being able to stand and talk coherently even hours later. Well, coherent for him at least. He was the last customer of the night, sitting silently as he watched you clean up. 

“You know you can head out, right? You don’t need to stay on my account.” 

“Need I remind ye what happened last time?” His tone was a little sterner, warning you not to argue the point. You ignored it. 

“That was the first time it happened. And I’ve been much more careful since then.” You argued, hand on your hip. 

“Yer cute when yer mad.” He smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief as he pushed himself up. He walked towards you as you wiped the last table, sucking your teeth in annoyance at how easily this man had wormed his way under your skin. “But I’m glad tae hear ye’ve been keepin’ watch. Hate tae have something happen tae ye wee self when I’m not around.” 

He leaned on the bar, watching you closely as you finished closing up. You wracked your brains for something remotely witty to throw back at him. 

“You know, for a big man you walk awfully quietly.” 

“Necessary fer the job, darlin’.” 

“It’s almost creepy.” 

He shrugged, clearly amused by you. 

“Dae I make ye nervous, wee hen?” He cocked his head arrogantly, a cheshire-like smile spreading wider on his face. 

“You’ve beat up two men for me. I’d be stupid not to be wary.” It was the truth. He huffed a laugh, voice deepening as he spoke. 

“Good. Ye’d be foolish tae not be afraid of me.”

Your lips parted as he stepped closer, reaching out to brush strands of your hair out of your eyes. He stayed there, face mere inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes, searching. His presence felt overwhelming; his smell, his size, his demeanour, his appearance… 

“John.” Whispering softly, pleadingly, you tilted your head up ever so slightly as your hand gripped the hard wood of the bar. 

“Get yer coat, darling.” He breathed, stepping back. “It’s late. Ye need tae get home.” 

Frowning, you felt your heart thump in disappointment as you watched his retreating form. Making sure everything was locked one final time, you shrugged on your coat and grabbed your bag, walking to the back door and locking it behind you. 

John was waiting there, the familiar scent of his cigar smoke lingering in the air before you could even see him. 

“Why are you doing this?” You called into the dark. The soft glow of his cigar gave his position away as he inhaled. 

“Am I not allowed tae care about yer safety?” Sighing in frustration, your shoulders dropped as you looked at him, lingering in the shadows. 

“Why do you care, John? I don’t know you; you don’t know me.” Breathing heavily, John stubbed out his cigar and stepped forward into the light of the streetlamp. 

“Ye ken, I’m not a good man, lassie. Ye should keep away from me.” 

Snorting indignantly, you shake your head in exasperation. “You’re making that extremely difficult when you’re the one showing up at my workplace and wanting to claim all of my attention.”

“I’m not a good man.” He repeats, eyes unwavering and face set as he takes another step towards you. “Tell me tae leave, tae stay away from ye.” 

Breath hitching, you looked up at him, trying to read his expression and seeing the internal conflict. You shake your head, refusing to back down, as he uses his body to crowd you against the wall. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your cheeks, making your nose crinkle. 

“You smell like tobacco.” 

“I’ve got mints in my car.” He responds just as quickly. The fight in you that was already waning in the bar earlier was practically gone at this point. 

“I’m not going to tell you to stay away. I don’t want you to go.” A lump formed in your throat as his nose brushed against yours. 

“I willnae let anything happen tae ye, darlin. I promise ye that.” He whispered softly, a calloused hand sliding up the back of your neck before he pulled your lips up to meet his. 

Moaning softly, your eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands up his chest, gripping the front of his shirt and holding him to you. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the remnants of the cigar making the kiss bitter, but it was something so intensely John that it made you crave more. 

His fingers ran through your hair, clutching tighter as the kiss grew more intense. His breath was ragged, fanning over your cheek as he groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against yours and pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss as it felt like he was pouring all his emotion into this one moment.

And then he pulled back, slowly breaking the kiss as he breathed heavily. Swallowing, your eyes fluttered open as you panted, looking up at him in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” Concern filled your voice as you reached up to cup his cheek. 

“Ye need tae get some rest. I’m keepin’ ye. Let’s get ye home, awryt?” 

“You’re strangely sweet, for a mysterious soldier who’s broken the noses of two men all in the name of my honour.” The corners of your mouth twitched into a teasing smile that was reflected on his face. 

“Call me chivalrous, darlin’.” 

“My knight in shining armour.”

“Wouldnae go that far.” He mused, his large hand sliding down to the small of your back as he steers you towards your car.

•••

He disappeared for a while after that, leaving a hole in your heart as empty as the spot at the end of the bar. It was stupid, you thought, pining and worrying about a man you knew virtually nothing about. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

Since you didn’t even have his bloody number, you couldn’t even message him to ask if he was alright, or when he was coming back. However, given the supposed nature of his job, he was liable to not answer depending on where he was stationed and how secretive his mission was.

To occupy the space he’d carved out for himself in your mind, you found yourself rethinking the kiss over and over again, running it through your head. The memory of his smell and taste occupied your thoughts to the point you’d even gone out specifically to find the cologne he wears, only to never find one that smelt right. 

It was late, way past when you usually left, but some idiot had decided to throw his shoe over the bar, sending alcohol bottles flying, clearing most of the bottom shelf and smashing the mirror behind. You’d closed the bar early in a fit of rage, sending everyone packing unceremoniously. Wiping your face in frustration, you finally cleared all the broken glass and spilled alcohol from the bench and the floor when you heard the door open. 

“We’re closed!” You snapped, not even bothering to turn around. “Read the sign.”

“Aye, but I cannae read, lassie.” The familiar drawl of his accented voice caused you to perk up and whip around. Sure enough, John was standing in the doorway looking particularly rugged, as if he’d gotten back recently, and this was one of his first stops. “Ye gonna blame a man fer wantin tae see yer bonnie wee face after a long couple o’ months?”

“John!” You cried, sprinting out from behind the bar and leaping into his arms in sheer excitement. He let out an amused noise of surprise, but wrapped his arms around you eagerly, holding you close and lifting you off the ground with ease.  

“Miss me that much, aye?” He teased as you buried your face into his neck, inhaling the scent your heart had been yearning for. 

“You were gone. I had no idea if you were safe or even alive. No means to contact you, either.” You dropped the last sentence, in hopes he’d pick up your meaning. 

“Ye of wee faith, lassie.” The tone was light as he squeezed you one final time before setting you down. “I’m out of range fer a lot of it, but I s’pose I wouldnae mind havin a way tae contact ye if yer not workin.”

Beaming happily, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, handing it to him. His lips twitched into a half smile as his thumbs typed on the screen before handing the device back to you. 

John M. 

“I now also know your last name started with an M.”

“That ye dae. What’s got ye caught up this late? Been waiting outside fer a wee bit.” Your heart gave a happy thump at the thought of him waiting for you to finish, of him wanting to spend time with you. Sighing, you gestured to the bar. 

“Just finished cleaning up this mess, and now I’ve got to take stock of the inventory that was smashed and remove all the other bottles from the shelf in case the mirror behind cracks more overnight. Then I’ve got to file an incident report, send an email to the boss so he can arrange for someone to come out and replace the mirror. On top of my usual closing duties.” 

John’s brows drew together in a frown as he looked down at you with concern, hearing the weariness in your voice. Pulling you in for another hug, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Tell me what I can dae tae help.” 

“No, I can’t ask that of you. You’ve been away for ages. You're probably tired and—”

“Darlin…” His voice was soft as he tilted your head up, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m nae asking fer yer permission. I’m helping.”

As much as you hated to admit it, having John help out did make everything move a lot quicker. You felt guilty, making him work when he was back, but he refused to acknowledge you whenever you brought up paying him for his time. Instead, he requested payment in information, and spent most of the time asking you questions about your life:

Where were you born? What was your childhood like? Do you have any siblings? Where are they now? What drove you to work here? Do you have any dreams or aspirations? 

But whenever you retaliated with a question of your own, you were met with a chuckle and two annoyingly frustrating words. 

“That’s classified.” 

“Who are you? Some kind of secret service spy?” 

“I told ye before, lassie. Getting tae ken me will just bring ye more harm than good.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay away from me?” There was a spark of challenge in your voice and John snorted, looking up from where he was on the other side of the bar to stare at you with a dark smirk on his face. 

“I’m not a good man.” He repeated his words from the time just before he’d first kissed you, and it sent shivers down your spine. 

“On the contrary, you’ve done little to prove that point to me. Here you are on your own time helping me out to get home quicker. I don’t see how that qualifies as you being a bad man, John.” 

“Maybe I selfishly only want ye tae see the good side of me.” He winks before turning back to what he was doing, effectively shutting down the conversation. 

The long hours and lack of sleep finally caught up to you, and you felt yourself drifting off as you were typing away on the computer in the back office. Every time John poked his head in, your eyes were drooping, and you could only manage a weak hum in reply. 

“Awryt, that's it. I’m takin ye home.” He loomed over you, shutting down the computer despite your protests. “No, yer barely keeping yerself upright. Yer going home.” 

You couldn’t even struggle against him as he bundled you into your car and soon enough, you found yourself being carried into your bedroom. It was only when he placed you gently down on your bed that you shook your head to clear it. 

“How did you know where I lived?” You mumbled, looking up at him with furrowed brows. John gives you a look that leaves you feeling slightly unsettled, though you put that down to being delirious. 

“It’s on yer drivers' licence.” Oh. Now that made you feel stupid for assuming. 

“Thought you were a creepy stalker for a moment. Getting up all up in my business, knowing all my personal information when I don’t know anything about you.” 

“Yer the one lettin’ strange men into yer flat, lassie.” 

“I didn’t let you in. You let yourself in.” You said smugly, wrapping yourself in your blankets as you rested your head on the pillows. “And you’re not a stranger.” 

“Ye dinnae even ken my last name.” He chuckled, brushing hair out of your face again, his eyes tender.

“Because you won’t tell me. Is it MacGregor?” 

“No.”

“Macmillan?”

“No.”

“Mac—”

“How dae ye ken it starts with ‘Mac’, lassie?”

“Because you’re Scottish.” You replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. He snorted out a laugh at your reasoning before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Get some rest. I’ll see ye later.” 

•••

On a rare weekend night that you weren’t working, you found yourself out with a couple of friends. You wouldn’t say that you were drunk, but you were definitely not sober, floating in a happy medium as you moved your hips in time with the music, feeling yourself as you dance with your friends. It felt nice to be on the other side of the bar for once, letting your hair down and getting loose with people you hadn’t seen in far too long.

It was your turn to buy a round and so when a song you weren’t familiar with began to blast from the speakers; you motioned towards the bar to your friends before clutching your phone and heading over, leaning onto the bar and waiting your turn. 

The man standing next to you turned, staring at you with a smile. He was tall, you noticed, but wouldn’t be someone you’d look twice at. Not while you have your mind currently occupied with a handsome, mysterious man in your… situationship? If you could even call it that. 

“Having a good night?” He asked loudly over the music. Not wanting to be impolite, you gave him a small smile. 

“Yeah, just out with my friends.” You say neutrally, nodding your head yet casting your eyes back to the bar, waiting for your turn to be served, but the man wasn’t done just yet. 

“What’re you guys drinking? I’ll shout. Maybe we can link up with my mates after, whaddya say?” He nudges your shoulder, prompting you to glance up again. 

“Thanks for the offer, but we’re really just wanting a girl’s night.” You tried to keep your tone flat and disinterested, hoping it’ll deter him, but knowing your luck, it wouldn’t. Even when you were working, it took a lot for some men to get the hint, especially when inebriated. 

“My treat then? Come on, sweetheart. It’ll be fun. You can save your money and buy another round somewhere else?” He threw an arm around you, pulling you into him despite your resistance. 

“Please, it’s really nice of you, but I don’t want to take advantage of that.” Placing your hands in the centre of his chest, you tried to push him back. Thankfully, his grip loosened, and you managed to lift your head up. “I have someone, and so do my friends.” 

It wasn’t a straight up lie. You did have John, whatever you had between the two of you. Yes, you may have only kissed him once and yes, you hadn’t known him for that long in the whole scheme of things, but he stayed late to help you tidy the bar after the accident and then drove you home, tucking you into bed. That had to mean something, right? 

“I don’t see him here.” The guy gestured around, pulling you in closer and making your heart sink. “He won’t know. Besides, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out alone, anyway. Pretty things like you should be kept in eyesight at all times.” 

It was at this point the bartender finally made his way over to you, and you leaned forward, telling him your order, thankful to have your attention away from the creep next to you. Nodding, the bartender placed three glasses out and began to make the drinks. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that.” You grit your teeth as the sleaze’s voice made its way into your ears again, and you felt a hand slide across your back. 

“Stop, please. I’ve told you; I’ve got a boyfriend.” With someone pressed against your other side at the bar, you couldn’t exactly step away from him, and he knew that. The bartender placed the drinks in front of you, and before you could even move, the guy paid for them. Cursing, you looked around, trying to see if there was anyone you could catch the attention of for help. 

“Not dressed like that, you don’t.” He said snidely, tugging at your shirt. Whipping back to face him, your eyes were blazing with fury. 

“How I’m dressed is none of your business. And frankly, none of my boyfriend’s either.” You went to grab the drinks from the bar, but a large hand reached over you, trapping your smaller one between it and the glasses as your back hit a firm chest. 

“Ye quite done chatting up my missus?” The voice was recognisable anywhere, and you let out a soft breath of his name as you turned your head to look up at him. John’s eyes were blazing as they stared directly at the creep before him. 

“You’re her boyfriend?” His voice wavered slightly as he took in John’s appearance. Quickly realising that he was outmatched, he turned to you, sneering. “Of course, you’re a fucking gold-digging whore, fucking a man twice your age.” 

Before you could even respond, John surged forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s shirt and tugging him close. 

“Ye wanna call my missus a slag ye say it tae my fuckin face, ye cunt.” He spat. The commotion caught the attention of everyone around you, including the bartender.

“John.” You tapped his chest, trying to push him back. “Just leave it. He’s not worth it.” 

“Aye he fucking is.” John growled, eyes flashing with rage, lip curling as his fist clenched tighter at the man’s shirt. “D’ye wanna tell her what ye did tae her drink, or shall I?”

You froze, glancing at the three glasses that had been left on the bar before looking at the guy, whose eyes widened marginally. 

“Don’t know what you fucking mean.” He growled back. 

“Och, I think ye do, laddie. I watched ye dae it.”

“Fuck off.” 

“John, that’s enough! Please!” You cried out, sliding out from between the men and pulling him away as you saw a bouncer heading over. “You’re causing a scene. Just leave it.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes as he flicked between your desperately worried face and the guy’s angry one, before shoving him back and straightening up. 

“What’s going on?” The bouncer stood between John and the other man, looking back and forth between the pair of them. 

“He spiked her drink like a fuckin coward.” John seethed, finger pointing straight at the man’s face, taking a step forward. Grabbing quickly onto his jacket, you pulled him back as the bouncer grabbed the other man before telling John to get out as well. 

Without waiting, John gripped your arm and hauled you out of the club, not letting go until you were out on the street and clear of any loiterers.

“What the fuck, John?” You shoved him, pulling your arm out of his grip. He shot you a glare, baring his teeth. 

“Ye oughta be thankin’ me lassie.” His tone held an edge as he herded you down an alley. “Dae ye have any idea what that wanker woulda done tae ye?” 

“Where did you even come from? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another week.”

“Well, it’s a bloody good thing I got back early, huh? I dinnae wanna fucking think about what coulda happened tae ye!” John’s hands were on your shoulders as he looked deep into your eyes. “Fuck’s sake, lassie, I cannae be here watching yer back all the time.” 

His eyes were wide and pleading as he cupped your cheek, stepping forward to press his forehead to yours. “Ye told me that ye were gonna be more careful.”

“I tried to get rid of him. Why are you blaming me for almost getting drugged?” You looked at him in exasperation, pushing at his chest. “Are you just planning on standing there and yelling at me?”

“Fuck, fuck, umnae blamin’ ye, darlin. I just, I couldnae… I thought…” The words died in his mouth as he lifted his head to look at you, fear evident in his eyes as he sighed heavily, jaw clenching. 

“I’m sorry, John.” You whispered, lip trembling as the reality of the situation hit you, of what could have happened if John hadn’t had your back. 

“Dinnae apologise, darling, please. It’s nae yer fault. Just thinking about that… fucker puttin’ his hands on ye.” He pulled back, clasping his hands behind his head as he paced in the alley, breathing deeply to rein in his temper.

Pulling out your phone, you messaged your friends to let them know where you were before you stepped towards John, taking his hands in yours. His jaw ticked, but his eyes softened as he turned his attention to you. As you gave him a tender smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he slid his arms around you. 

“Thank you for looking out for me, John.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you lightly scratched his scalp with your nails. He hummed happily, large hands sliding underneath the hem of your top, steering you until your back hit the wall.

“I cannae imagine losing ye, hen. Yer the only thing that keeps me going, that is worth coming back tae.” His breath was hot and ragged against your neck as he pressed wet, desperate kisses along the line of your neck. “Shoulda ripped his fucking throat out fer touchin ye. Fer hurtin’ ye. I’d’ve never forgiven myself if anything happened tae ye.” 

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and for the first time, you wondered exactly how many men had been killed or maimed under John’s direction. He’d told you he wasn’t a good man, and you knew he was dangerous, but you couldn’t deny the rush that went through your body as he held you like this, soft and tender, whilst speaking about harming another person to keep you safe. 

“You need to be careful. You might end up on the wrong side of someone.” Like he always managed to do, John’s touch lit a fire in you, and you felt your body responding eagerly. His mouth spread into a wide grin, the stubble tickling the skin of your neck. 

“How many times dae I have tae say it, lass? Ye think eejits like that can hurt me? ‘Sides, yer worth the trouble of it. Worth. Every. Fucking. Moment.” He sucked on your neck with each word, nipping as he moved down, causing you to whine and tip your head back to give him more room. 

He groaned at the movement, hands sliding further up your torso as he pushed a thigh between your legs, pressing up against your core. Breath hitching, you gripped his shoulder for stability as he continued his exploration of your neck. Heat flooded through your body as he nipped and sucked his way up to the junction of your jaw, and you rolled your hips against his firm thigh. 

“Wait… John wait.” You managed to get out, letting out a strangled moan as he sucked on your neck and ground himself into you, allowing you to feel exactly how badly he wanted this. He growled in frustration, but pulled himself away from you. 

“I shouldnae dae it anyway. Ye’ve been drinkin—”

“I’m not drunk, I promise. I want you. God, I want you. I need you, John.” His eyes rolled back in his head at your words, hands squeezing your waist in a clear attempt to restrain himself. That only made your arousal spike, seeing his jaw flex with tension. 

“Ah dinnae wanna take ye here, hen. Not like this.” 

“Then just let me.” You whispered into his ear, pushing him back slightly so you could sink to your knees in front of him, hands already toying with his belt as he growled deep in his throat. 

“Fucking Christ darlin. Ye gonna kill me. Ye dinnae have tae—”

“I want to, John. Been thinking about this for months. Can’t believe you were this patient.” He let out a strained chuckle. 

“‘S not fer lack o’ trying, lass. Just hasnae been the right time.” He rested his forearm on the wall, glancing down at you with a strained expression. “Ye dinnae have tae.” 

“I want to.” You repeated in a low tone, tugging open his zipper and pulling down his underwear to expose his dick. Your eyes widened fractionally as you took him in. He was uncut, only half-hard but already mouthwateringly thick, with dark hair surrounding the base. 

“Too much fer ye?” Frowning, you looked up at John, who was staring down at you, a smirk plastered on his face. He reached down to cup your face tenderly before taking a firm grip in your hair. “But since ye down there, ye’ll be good fer me, aye?” 

“Yes, sir.” You grinned before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, dragging it up the slowly stiffening length of his cock before taking him into your mouth and tonguing the underside. 

Groaning at his taste, you could feel his cock swelling in your mouth, and you pulled back, spitting on his cock and working your hand over the heavy length, helping him grow to his full size. Letting out a soft hiss, John’s fingers pressed into your scalp, but didn’t push you down.

“That's a good girl.” He praised breathlessly. Allowing saliva to pool on your tongue, you ran it along his shaft, getting him nice and wet as your hand continued to pump him. The gravel of the pavement was digging into your knees, but you didn’t care. Blocking out the pain, your lips curled around the head of his cock, pushing his foreskin back gently and sucking lightly. The feeling of him on your tongue made you moan, and John let out a reciprocal groan as he stared down at you, fingers tightening in your hair. 

Cocking your brow in amusement, you kept your eyes fixed on him as one hand wrapped around the base of his cock to hold him steady. You allowed him to watch as you opened your mouth, swirling your tongue eagerly around the head and bobbing slowly. 

“Fucking Christ hen, ye wanna stop teasing?” He panted, pulling you off and tipping your head up to look at him. “‘Cause I’m in a real mind tae fuck ye throat right now.”

Squeezing your thighs together, your breath hitched with his words, and you couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that broke out. John’s eyes lit up in the darkened alley, shining with delight as he stared down at you. 

“Ye like the sound o’ that lassie? Well now, put on a good show and I’ll gladly oblige.” Taking hold of his cock, he slapped it against your cheek, smearing his pre-cum on your skin, and then he fed his cock between your lips. Letting out a soft noise of surprise, you relaxed your mouth, allowing him to press himself in. Sealing your lips around him, you began a steady rhythm, bobbing down his shaft as your tongue laved along the underside, sliding over a vein that caused him to jerk. 

You chuckled, sending vibrations down his length, making him hiss in pleasure. Pulling most of the way off his cock, you locked eyes with him before swallowing his cock down to the base. Your nose was pressed against the dark hair at the base of his dick, and you could smell his distinct musk that made your own arousal spike. He tugged at your hair and let out a carnal groan, hips canting forwards to sink deeper. 

Relaxing your throat, you held him there for a bit, swallowing around him as you felt saliva pooling in your mouth, threatening to spill out. Pulling back, you took in a deep breath before sliding back down his length again, bobbing your head slightly so that the head of his cock repeatedly pushed down your throat, sending John into a spiral. 

“Fuck— oh fuck darling. Feels so fucking good around me. Takin me s’fucking well. Look at ye… swallowin’ mah cock down like a greedy fucking slag.”

Both of his hands now rested on the sides of your head, fingers tangled into your hair as he tipped his head back and moaned at the feeling of your mouth around him. Wetness pooled in your underwear at the sight of him losing his composure, and you couldn’t help but run your hands up the broad expanse of his thighs, taking in every inch of him. One hand settled to squeeze his ass as the other cupped his balls. They were large and heavy, swollen and full of spend that he was aching to shoot down your throat. 

“Aye that’s it. Hold my fucking balls fer me. Feel how badly I wanna fill ye up. God ye so fuckin good fer me. My slut. My good wee whore, aren’t ye?” 

He thrust his hips forward suddenly, causing you to gag and pull back, sucking in a breath as you looked up at him reproachfully. John just grinned wider at your disapproval, his voice coming out heady and rough. 

“Sorry darlin, got a wee bit excited. Ye feel so good wrapped around my cock. I’m almost there, lassie, c’mon. Keep suckin’ me.” There was no preamble this time as John immediately pressed his hard, thick cock back into your mouth, looking down at you as your lips spread wide around the base. Your mouth and throat were going to ache tomorrow, you knew it, but you also didn’t care and wanted to take everything he’d give you. 

He rocked his hips forward, the head of his cock pressing deep down your throat as you relaxed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as a tear slid down your cheek; a mix of shortness of breath due to his eager thrusts and the biting, protesting pain from your aching knees. 

“Oh, fuck that’s it—that’s it, my wee fucking slag. Cry fer me, cry on my dick.” One of his hands cupped the back of your neck as the other roughly gripped your hair on the crown of your head, holding you in place as he ruts his hips forward into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything except let out a slightly garbled whine, which did nothing but make him moan throatily and toss his head back as your hands slid up to press against the front of his thighs.

“Shite, I'm gonna come. Fuck me, I’m gonna come.” John’s voice was strained as he spoke, hips moving forward in an inconsistent rhythm before he pulled out. Using the hand on top of your head, he tilted your head up to look at him, forcing your mouth open as his other hand worked over his cock. His eyes were glued on your face, messy and debauched, and the mere sight of it sent him over the edge.  

His body drew rigid, and he let out a strained gasp before shoving the throbbing head of his cock into your mouth, flooding it with his hot release. 

“Take it.” He urged, eyes dark and fixed onto your face. “Take it, take it all for me, my good wee whore. That's it.” You let out a soft moan, working him through the release by sucking on the tip of his cock. Finally, John pulled back, and you released his cock, watching it flop; flaccid and spent between his legs.

Panting heavily, John reached down with a hand, swiping his thumb tenderly through the mess of saliva and cum on your chin before he pressed the digit into your mouth. Without even being asked, you sucked it clean, and then pressed a kiss to the junction of his groin and thigh as you rose to your feet grinning. 

“Fuck, darling. Yer somethin else.” He returned the wide smile, hand coming up to close lightly over your throat as his mouth descended on yours roughly. His tongue pressed into your mouth, intently sweeping along yours to taste himself mixed with you. He groaned, pulling away as he tucked himself back into his pants, zipping himself up and motioning to the end of the alley. 

“C’mon, hen. I’ll take ye home. That way, I can fuck ye somewhere nice.” You were not one to disagree.

•••

Later that night, you were lying on your bed, curled into John’s side with your head on his soft, fuzzy chest as his arm was thrown around your shoulders. The pair of you were hot, panting and sweaty, but you wanted to be close to him, and John was happy to indulge you. 

With a leg thrown over him and your head resting on his chest, you allowed your fingers the freedom of roaming over his chest, tracing the lines of his scars. 

“Do you remember what they’re all from?” You asked, running over a fairly new scar that was raised on the upper part of his abdomen. 

“Most of them.” He mumbled sleepily, eyes closed as he rested his head against your pillow. “That one yer touching was caused by a knife.” 

“You were stabbed?” Lifting your head, your brows furrowed in concern as you looked up at his face. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

“Dinnae fash, darling. I’m fine now.” Squinting his eyes open, he placed a hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you back down to rest on his chest. You obliged, letting yourself be settled by the rhythmic beating of his heart. 

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His hand squeezed your shoulder before moving to trace down the length of your bare back. 

“Aye.” Was his simple reply as he looked down at you. “And I cannae say anything about it.”

“Can you just let me worry about you?” You grit out, pushing yourself up to look down at him, frowning as you met his gaze. “When you’re gone for long stints, I can’t help but think about what you’re going through.”

John let out a long sigh, as he kept his eyes fixed on yours, unwavering and steady. “I’m not doing it tae hurt ye, lassie. ‘Sides, I’d rather ye not hear what I’ve been through. It’s ugly stuff.”

“That makes me worry more.” His lips spread in a toothy grin at your remark, and he runs a hand lightly up your side. 

“Yer sweet, hen. I like that about ye.” His tone was casual, but his eyes and jaw were both set firmly enough for you to realise that he was once again trying to put an end to the conversation. But you weren’t giving up. 

“Will you tell me why you were back early?” 

“Ain’t much tae say. We got the job done. I’m back.” He said tersely, pushing your hand aside so he could sit up on the edge of the bed. You felt an ache in your heart at the gesture, realising you may have pushed him too far. 

“I’m sorry. John, I’m sorry.” Quickly moving, you sat next to him, hands on his shoulder and chest. “I just— it hurts when you’re gone, and I have no clue what’s happening to you, and then you just show up like you did tonight… I’m still getting used to this. To you.” 

Your breathing was rapid as you stared at his face, eyes glancing over his tense features. He intentionally wasn’t looking at you, lips pursed and eyes slightly narrowed as he was lost in thought. The pair of you stayed like that for a good few minutes, and every second more only made your heart beat faster as your skin prickled unsettlingly. 

Finally, he blinked, turning his head towards you and placing one of his large hands over your thigh. “I ken it’s not easy being with a soldier. We go through a lot, some more so than others. We often have a temper, dinnae like when things are out of our control.” 

Nodding along, you sat there patiently, letting him talk his mind. His hand squeezed your thigh in appreciation, head nodding as he continued. 

“I dinnae like tae think about what could happen. Cannae afford tae. My life is on the line every time I leave, and I cannae change that fact.” He cupped your face tenderly, tracing a thumb over your cheek as a sense of longing lingered in his eyes. “I want tae tell ye things, but I willnae put ye in that position.” 

“So what do we do?” Lifting up your hand, you wrapped it around his forearm as he leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. 

“Ye have tae accept there are things about me I cannae tell ye. It’s just fer the best, lassie. I’ll try and tell ye what I can. Ye can still ask questions, but ye cannae get mad at me fer not being able to tell ye things.”

“Okay, John.” You whispered, feeling his breath fan across your cheek. He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek before pulling back. 

“I’m sorry it has tae be this way. And I ken it’s selfish fer me tae want so much from ye and fer ye tae get sweet fuck all in return.” A grin tugged onto his face at his words and you felt yourself smiling in response. “But I’m a selfish man, lassie. And I cannae let ye go, not when ye’ve dug yer way into my life.” 

Still smiling, he pushed you back until you were lying down, staring up at him as he stroked the hair from your eyes. Fondness and desire were both evident in his eyes as he lifted himself up onto his knees, rearranging your body so he was nestled between your legs once more. 

“Am I yours, John?” You asked, needing some kind of clarification on where you stood in the relationship, if it was right to say you were spoken for. 

“My god, sweetheart, I’d kill a man tae keep ye safe and unharmed. Of course yer mine.” He growled, an edge to his tone as he leaned back down. Tilting your head back, he attached his mouth to your neck, sucking red, claiming marks over the column of your throat. “I fucking wish I could shout it from the rooftops. Wish I could tell the whole world yer mine.”

As his teeth dragged along the sensitive skin, you gasped, arching your back and locking your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around him, fingers threading through the strands of his mohawk. 

“I’m yours, John.” You whined, tugging at his hair and making him grunt in satisfaction. 

“Say it again.” He demanded in your ear. 

“I’m yours. I’m yours. I’ll only ever be yours.” 

Groaning, he pushed himself up to reach for his wallet, grabbing out another condom and rolling it on. Settling back down between your legs, he dragged his hardened cock down the length of your slit before pressing inside; using your previous release and the lube on the condom to help ease the slide as he sunk down to the hilt. 

“Say it. Say that yer mine as I fuck ye.” He pleaded, burying his face into your neck as he set a sloppy pace. His hands grabbed at your body, pulling you into him as though being pressed against each other and being inside you wasn’t close enough. 

“I’m yours, John.” You mewled. His cock was so thick that despite already being taken earlier, you still felt the burn of being stretched out by him. Clenching yourself around him, you dragged your nails down his back, desperate to mark him as he marked your neck. 

John let out a desperate grunt, thrusts already becoming sloppy as the heat of the moment got to him. 

“Aye, yer mine— all fucking mine. Mine tae have, mine tae fuck.” His voice broke slightly as he moaned, teeth closing on your shoulder as he tried to silence himself. He dragged his wet tongue over your skin, tasting you as you bucked your hips up to meet his. 

“John— oh fuck, John. Please, come inside me. Mark me as yours. Need it. I need to be yours.” The bite of his fingernails on your skin was vicious as he held your hips in place, allowing him to punch his hips forwards until he slammed into you one final time, cock pulsing as you squeezed around him. His arms held you close as he ruts into you, emptying the last of his thick seed deep inside the condom with a muffled moan against your shoulder. 

The weight of him was almost suffocating, and you pressed your hands into his shoulders, whining as you still hadn’t found your release. John chuckled, pressing a final kiss to your shoulder and admiring his handiwork briefly before lifting himself off and sliding down your body. His thick fingers were already toying with your slick cunt as he kissed down your body. 

“John…”

“I ken ye want it, darling. Dinnae fash, I’ll give it tae ye, because yer mine, aren’t ye? Say it fer me.” You nodded blissfully, eyes fluttering with the way his fingers curled inside you as you felt the heat of his mouth against your inner thigh. 

“Yes. I’m yours, John. Only yours.” 

“That’s right. My good wee whore.” He cooed before lowering his mouth to your glistening cunt.

•••

-> Are you free tonight? Need to see you before I leave tomorrow

You had to pause and sit on your couch to stare at your phone when the text first came through. John rarely initiated a conversation through text, much preferring to call you or for you to message first and let him know if you were working, out, or at home for the night. Receiving that text from him made your heart lurch in your chest and you found yourself jumping to respond immediately. 

<- I’ll be home all night. What time are you coming? x

-> Late. Still prepping and will leave early tomorrow

<- That’s alright. I’ll wait up for you. Can’t wait x

Glancing at the clock, you noted it was just on five in the evening which meant you probably wouldn’t expect him for several hours, much to your dismay. However, given the mess that was currently in your flat, maybe the extra time wasn’t a bad thing. 

As you were cleaning, you were struck with just how much John had inserted himself into your life in such a short period of time. Though he was often away for weeks or even months at a time, you still kept a drawer for him in your closet and a shelf for him in the bathroom at all times. Just seeing his toothbrush next to yours every morning put a smile on your face. 

You hadn’t put a label on the relationship you had with him yet, not that you minded. Whenever talks turned to more serious topics, John tended to shut the conversation down and close off. You couldn’t blame him though, being a soldier and all, you thought, maybe he’d been through some difficult relationships, and didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t commit to. 

It was nearing eleven, and you were snuggling on the couch in one of John’s shirts when you finally heard his key in the lock. You’d never technically given him a key, he just took your spare one with him one day when he was back and you’d never had a second thought about it. Pushing the door open, he stepped in with a weary look on his face, but he still gave you a smile. 

“Sorry I’m late, darling. Got held up. Glad to be home wit ye.” Leaning over the couch, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, dropping his bags and heading towards the kitchen. Your heart preened at his acknowledgement of home and you pushed yourself off the couch to follow him. 

“There is food in the fridge if you’re hungry.” You tell him as you walked in. “And I grabbed another six pack for you. The ones you like.” The last sentence you added a little more shyly. He paused while filling up a glass of water, turning to look at you with mild surprise. 

“Ye didnae have tae do that fer me.” He set down the glass on the bench after draining it and held out his arms. “C’mere, lassie. I’ve missed ye.”

It was easy, falling into his arms and letting them wrap protectively around you. Burying your face into his firm chest, you inhaled deeply, allowing his comforting scent to surround you as his lips pressed against the top of your head. 

“How long are you going to be gone for this time?” Despite trying to hide the pain in your voice, John’s arms squeezed you tighter. 

“I’m nae sure, darlin’. It’s why I wanted tae stop by. Spend some time with my girl.” His girl. Shivers ran down your spine as you glanced up at him with a soft smile before standing on your tiptoes to press your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hummed, smiling into the kiss as his hands clutched at your waist, holding you close to him. 

The kiss was languid, mouths slowly moving against each other as you tilted your head to the side, a comforting warmth spreading through your chest. His lips were cold, as if he’d been outside for a long period of time, and you could taste the remnants of tobacco, something you had been becoming rather familiar with. You honestly felt like you could stay like this for hours, in his arms, mouth on yours, your hands in his hair. It felt like a dream, and one you didn’t want to wake up from. 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth, pressing his tongue alongside yours as he cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and holding you steady. Somehow, he always knew just how to make your knees weak and you couldn’t help but moan softly. Chuckling, he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so he could take in how glassy your eyes were from a few touches. 

“I’m gonna miss ye, doll. So fucking much.” 

“Don’t say that, you’ll make me cry.” You said, brushing your nose up against his. His head cocked to the side and he smirked before leaning forward. 

“The only cryin’ I wanna see ye do tonight is on my cock.” He purred, tracing his tongue over your earlobe and causing your breath to hitch before your brows furrowed, slapping his shoulder and causing him to laugh. 

“You’re so vulgar, John.” You scowled playfully, pulling back.

“Dinnae act like ye want me tae stop.” John grinned, quickly spinning you around so your back was against the bench. “Yer easy tae read, bonnie wee lass. I see that look in yer eye when I talk pure filth. Gets ye all riled, aye?”

His voice lowers, making your skin prickle as he leaned over you. The cool stone of your bench top was pressing against your body, essentially trapping you, but you really didn’t want to be anywhere else. Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you grinned at him, eyes dancing over his face. 

“I bet if I just reached between yer legs…” You inhale a shaky breath as John slides his hand between your legs and prods your wet heat with intent. “Aye, just as I thought. Already slick fer me like the good girl I ken ye are.”

You almost hated how easily he could get under your skin, how well he could read you, but you really couldn’t complain about it.  Especially considering how well looked after he made you feel before, during, and after sex. Biting out a smart retort was also out of the question, since the gentle circles he was tracing on your clit rendered you speechless. 

“Fuck doll, look at ye. So breathless already and we havenae even started.” He cooed, grinning almost sadistically as his eyes hungrily roamed your body, before stopping.  Withdrawing his fingers, he tugged at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “Is this my shirt?” 

“Yeah, wanted to smell you.” You answered him, finally finding your voice. “Had to make do since you were so late coming home.” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, hand moving to slide underneath the hem of the shirt. 

“I like ye in my clothes. Should wear them more often.” 

“Bring more over and I will.” 

“Cheeky.” He admonished, flashing you a toothy grin as he tapped your nose. “And demanding.”

Drawing your lip between your teeth once more, you found your expression mirroring his. It was easy, falling into this sense of domesticity with him. Pushing on the bench behind you, you lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the cold stone, John standing between your knees. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he looked down at you, tilting his head marginally. All at once, you could feel heat building in your face and you ducked your head to break eye contact. 

“What are you looking at?” The words were mumbled into your shoulder as you glanced away from him. 

“You.” His voice was soft as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze once more. “I’m always thinkin’ about you, lassie.” Grumbling playfully and curling your lip, you nudged his hand away. In retaliation, he placed his warm palm on your cheek, holding you tenderly as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Good thoughts I hope?” John simply chuckled as he pulled back, eyes glinting as his lips stretched into a smirk. 

“Doll, sometimes I dinnae think ye even ken what ye do tae me.”

“Is that really such a problem?” Lifting your head, you stared up at him with a teasing smile. Snorting in amusement, John shook his head at you, thumb tracing against your cheekbone. 

“Aye, it is. Yer a succubus. Sent by the devil himself tae test mah faith.” Now it was your turn to laugh at him. 

“I never took you for a religious man, John.” He shrugged. 

“More in the name than anything. But me Mam would skin me alive if I said otherwise.” The mention of his mother made your ears prick. He’d never once mentioned his family, or his background directly, but every time he saw you, he let a little more information about himself slip. It made your heart thump a little faster, happy about the small bits of information you were slowly teasing out of him the longer you brushed at his thick outer coat.

His lips reconnected with yours, the rough, calloused skin of his palm pressing against the back of your neck to hold you steady. Teeth tugged at your bottom lip, sucking lightly into his mouth as he growled deep in his throat before pulling back. 

“Bedroom.” His voice was husky and thick, hands tugging at the shirt you were wearing. Feeling your own desire rising, you followed without complaint. Reconnecting your lips to his, the pair of you felt your way through the flat as he steered you towards your bedroom, hands and mouth never leaving your body. “Let’s get you out of these clothes.”

The oversized shirt was wrenched over your head and cast aside, leaving you in your underwear as he kneeled above you, eyes raking hungrily over your exposed body. His hands slid underneath your thighs, encouraging them to wrap around his waist as he placed himself between your spread legs. Burying his face into your neck, he breathed deeply, mouth latching onto the tender skin near your collarbone. 

“Yer fuckin’ perfect, doll. Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen. I cannae believe yer mine.” Reaching between your bodies, he pulled aside your underwear, fingers delving between your folds to collect your wetness. Swearing under his breath, John returned his mouth to your neck, sucking on the soft skin, digits continuing to tease between your legs. 

Lifting up a hand, you carded your own fingers through his hair, tugging at the longer strands of his mohawk as you whined softly. 

“John… please.” The man grinned into the crook of your neck, pulling away only to slide your underwear off and roll you onto your side, slotting himself in behind you. 

“Be a good girl fer me, got it?” He cooed, dragging his teeth over the curve of your ear. “Just lemme touch that bonnie cunt o’ yers.”

Hooking one of your legs over his arms, he used his strength to keep your legs spread apart for him as he toyed with your slick cunt. His fingers collected your wetness before alternating between rubbing your clit and crooking his fingers inside you expertly. It hadn’t taken him long to discover exactly how to touch you to make you writhe and moan for him. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs tae.” His skin was hot against your own, warm breath fanning over your neck as he growled, deep and low. 

“Me.” You protested, head lolling as he turned his head. 

“Och, I dinnae think so, lassie.” He said, deploying several sharp spanks to your cunt. Every impact made you clench and whine, trying desperately to wriggle out of his strong grip, but he tittered. “No no, none of that, bonnie lass. Tell me again. Who does this wee cunt belong tae?” 

“You— fuck! You, John!” Your mouth parted with a loud cry as he hummed his approval, plunging his fingers back into you as he reached around with his other hand to stimulate your clit. 

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.” Crooning into your ear, he didn’t relent, causing you to barrel towards your release. With your back plastered to his chest and your legs thrown over his strong arms, you know it was useless to try and wriggle away, but his overwhelming assault on your cunt brought tears of pleasure to your eyes and you whined pathetically. 

“John— please! It’s too much.” His response was simply to chuckle darkly in your ear and continue the dexterous movements of his fingers. 

“No it’s not. Ye can take it, doll. Ye said ye were gonna be good fer me.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a cry of his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him. You felt yourself gush over his fingers with a cry of his name and he whispered soft praises, kissing over your shoulder and neck. 

Coming back down from your high, you rested your weight against him, panting heavily as his hands ran soothingly up your sides. Then, rolling you onto your back, he pulled a couple of pillows underneath your hips, lifting you up slightly. 

“Such a fucking sight.” He groaned, running his hands up your body momentarily before shucking off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, tugging them off. Grabbing his wallet, he opened it before his brows pinched together and he cursed. 

“What is it?” Pushing yourself up, you looked down at him as he rummaged through the pockets on his pants. 

“Ah dinnae ken where I put the fuckin’ johnnie, hen.” He grumbled, looking up at you with a sorrowful expression. 

“I have condoms in my drawer if it’s an issue?” Gesturing to your bedside table, you made a move to open it, but a firm hand stopped you. 

“I have a latex allergy, hen. I cannae just use any old one.” His thumb caressed your wrist tenderly. “I’m sorry.” 

Furrowing your brows, you purse your lips, having an internal debate for a few moments before you reach out, placing your free hand on his arm. 

“I trust you.” 

The three simple words made him lift his head, and he cursed under his breath. Surging upwards, he pushed you back down onto the bed, nestling between your legs. 

“Ye sure, doll? I can fuck ye raw?” The tone of his voice was relatively neutral, but the grip of his hands on your hips conveyed his excitement. 

“Please.” You couldn't stop yourself from whining the words out as you rolled your hips up, brushing your clit against his aching cock. Hissing, he rested his forehead against yours, gently brushing your hair back from your face.

“I’ll pull out.” He breathed, hands clutching tighter as the bare head of his cock brushed against your wet core. Shaking your head, you cupped his cheeks to stare into his eyes. 

“It’s okay, I promise. Just… please John. I need it— need you to fuck me.” 

“Steaming Jesus, hen.” He growled, hooking your legs around his waist, he leaned down to match his mouth onto one of your nipples, tugging at it with his teeth. Moaning and arching your back, you threaded your hands into his hair, holding him to your chest. The head of his cock bumped against your clit as he rolled his hips, the air thick with lust.

Pushing himself up, he stared down between your legs as he held the base of his dick and ran it up and down the length of your slit, collecting your wetness to ease his entrance inside you. John’s grip on your hip tightened, choking out a grunt as he once more buried his head into the crook of your neck. The stubble tickling your sensitive skin as he let out a strangled gasp, sinking down to the hilt. His teeth latched onto your shoulder and he began to rut his hips into yours. 

The pace he set was rapid, sweat already dripping from his brow from the effort of restraint. His hands never remained still, caressing down your legs and brushing up your back, relishing in mapping every inch of your body. Moving, he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, hands carding through your sweaty hair before he pushed himself up.

Cold metal brushed against your cheek and you turned, seeing his dog tags dangling above your face. He never usually wore them with you, always taking them off and tucking them into his bag. Your fingers laced around the chain, lightly holding onto it as his hips continued to buck into yours. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust as he panted above you, sweat beading on his brow. 

“Ride me.” He croaked, gripping your hips and rolling the pair of you over until you were straddling his waist. Pulling his dog tags over his head, he hooked them around your neck, watching with hungry eyes as the metal bounced between your breasts with every thrust. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my good girl.” 

Leaning forward, your hands splayed across his hairy chest, anchoring yourself as you began to ride his cock, slamming your hips down in order to chase your second release of the night. Grunting out a curse, John gripped your hips tightly, bucking up into you and slapping his hand across the cheek of your ass. The smell of sex permeated the room, clouding your senses, until you couldn’t think about anything else other than the man on the bed below you, and how good his cock filled you. 

Your thighs were protesting, burning from the effort of riding him, but you couldn’t stop, not when you were teetering on the edge of release, your clit grinding deliciously against the coarse hair above his dick. The slick sound of his cock entering you and the grunts of pleasure he was letting out were all that mattered, and you felt yourself spiralling. 

“Close… I’m so fucking close.” Digging your fingers into the meat of his chest, your breathing quickened as you felt the familiar heat coiling in your gut. 

“Umnae gonna last.” John’s voice was deep, making your pussy clench at the idea of his impending release, knowing you were finally going to feel everything. His hands gripped you tightly, bouncing you on his lap as you rocked your hips desperately downwards to meet his thrusts. 

“Please…” You begged him, struggling to maintain the rhythm of your grinding as you edged closer. “I need it, I need to feel you.” 

“Shite, I’m gonna fill ye. Fucking Christ, yer gonna drain me.” Panting, John reached up to grip the chain of his dog tags around your neck and pulled you down so he could smash his lips against yours. 

The kiss was messy, full of spit and teeth as both of your climaxes loomed over you. His hands clutched your ass, nails digging into your skin as his breathing turned ragged as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Fucking hell— I need tae come, please. Lemme come in ye, hen. Please— oh fuck— keep doing that. God ye feel incredible.” Moaning into your skin, he dragged his tongue up the column of your neck, tasting the salt on your skin. 

“Do it— fuck please do it.” The twitch of his cock inside you made you cry out, clenching tightly around him as you felt your orgasm rip through you. 

“Fuck… holy fuck I can feel ye— shite yer gripping me so fucking tight. Jesus doll, umnae… I cannae…” He trailed off, mouth latching onto your breast as thrust up into a couple more times before pinning his cock deep inside you as he groaned gutturally. Thick, hot cum released inside of you, his cock pulsing with every spurt as he moaned into your chest. His hands ran up your back, holding you to him as you both sagged into the bed, panting heavily. 

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you keeled forward, head landing on the pillow next to John. The man chuckled, his touch feather light on your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. You were unsure how long you remained like that, pressed together and still intimately connected, but you knew it wasn’t something you were ready to lose just yet. 

John recovered first, gently rolling you off him so he could slide out and press a tender kiss to your forehead before standing up. When you let out a whining noise of protest and gripped his arm tightly, he stroked your head reassuringly. 

“Just getting a washcloth, sweetheart.” And you relented, allowing him to leave and come back, a warm cloth gently cleaning the mess he’d made of you. Humming softly, you blinked your heavy eyes open and stretched lazily. 

“I hope you’re not planning to do anything other than sleep right now.” He chuckled, walking once more to the bathroom to wash the cloth before sliding into the bed next to you. Curling into his side, you felt the brush of something hard on your chest, and you realised you were still wearing his dog tags. 

Glancing at him in silent question, he nodded once, hand running reassuringly along your back as you reached down to read the engraved text. 

O POS

2073521

JOHN

MacTAVISH

ARMY

RC

“John MacTavish.” Rolling the name over and over again in your head, you let it sink in. Finally, you knew his full name.

“Aye, that’s me, lassie.” He smirked, leaning back against your pillows. “Now yer getting to ken all mah secrets.” 

Laughing softly, you shake your head and curl into his side, allowing him to wrap his muscled arm around your body. Resting against him was warm and comforting, and you could imagine staying like this for the rest of your life. 

“I’d hardly call your full name a secret.” You mused. “Especially not when you’ve known mine from the beginning.” 

“That’s different.” He reasons, shrugging lightly. 

“Also, I have a bone to pick with you.” Jerking your head up, you narrowed your eyes down at him. Frowning in concern, John looked at you, waiting for you to elaborate. “You remember when I was guessing your last name and I kept saying names beginning with ‘Mac’ and you gave me shit for it?” 

A broad grin spread over his handsome features, one of the most genuine smiles you’d seen on his face and it warmed your heart to see. 

“Aye, lassie. I was just having ye on. Yer a smart one. Couldnae fool ye even if I wanted tae.” Playfully, you bat against his chest and he laughs. Unable to resist the jovial sound, you joined in, a wide smile spreading over your face as you looked at him. You admired every little feature of his face, from the stubble on his chin, to the bright blue of his eyes, to the splash of freckles over his cheeks, to the scar that crossed over his left eye. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” The words were barely audible due to his laughter, but he settled down and cupped your face gently. 

“Anything fer my girl.”

Despite waking up fairly early the next morning, the other side of your bed was cold and empty. Reaching a hand around your neck, you found the dog tags were gone and you felt immediately alone. This was stupid, you thought, he said that he needed to leave early. You knew this was coming. But it still hurt nonetheless every time he left. 

Going about your normal morning routine, you made your way into the kitchen where a neatly folded note lay on the bench, addressed to you. Smiling to yourself, you opened the letter and began to read. 

— Sorry for leaving so soon, but we had to make an early start. Took the six pack with me, the lads are gonna love you for it. If you need to buy a pill, there’s some money attached. If not, buy yourself something nice, on me. 

Take care of yourself and I’ll see you when I’m back. —

Taking the page up to your nose, you inhaled his strong scent and sighed heavily. It was a common theme for him to up and leave suddenly and the pain of it never went away, but he always came back and you could feel that your heart was already aching for the reunion. 

•••

You were in your kitchen unpacking the dishwasher one night when you heard your front door open and slam shut. 

“John?” There was no response to your call, but the loud stomping of boots on your floor let you know that it was him as you finished off your task, closing the dishwasher. Frowning, you went to turn around to walk towards the door but your heart leapt out of your chest as you walked straight into a solid form. “Jesus Christ, John. You could have warned me you were right behind me!” 

Placing a hand over your heart with a light chuckle, you tried to brush off the fright with laughter, but one glance up at him wiped the smile clean off your face. His eyes were dark, almost black as he stared down at you coldly, jaw twitching as his hands clenched. 

“John?” Your voice shook now, and you felt your heart racing as he loomed over you. Despite all the times you’d seen him be physical with someone else, he’d never done so much as raise a hand towards you or made you feel unsafe, yet the way he was staring down at you now made you tremble with fear. “John, what’s wrong—”

“Shut up.” He snarled, lip curling as he reached out to close a large hand on your jaw, using it as leverage to push you back until your hips met the cold stone of your bench top. “Just fucking shut up.” 

The tone of his voice made your breath hitch and eyes widen, teeth chattering as your whole body felt like it was on a knife’s edge. You did as you were told, keeping your mouth shut as you stared up at him, glancing between his eyes, hoping to see some kind of remorse. But they were cold and empty, exactly like he’d been towards the men that had threatened your safety. 

Immediately, thoughts raced through your head, trying to recall everything you’d said and done over the last few days, wondering if something had set him off. Panic began to set in as he pressed you further back against the bench, and your hands scrambled to find purchase. 

“You’re scaring me.” His nose twitches at your words, but his grip didn’t relent. 

“I warned ye that I’m nae a good man, lassie, and ye didnae listen.” He sneered, stepping closer to press his body against yours, caging you in. “And so I’m gonna fuck ye, and yer gonna take it like a good wee whore.”

The grip on your jaw tightened as he made sure your eyes remained fixed to his. Swallowing thickly, your mouth parted as you stared up at him, confusion spread over your face. 

“John, I don’t think we—”

“Yer gonna shut that fucking mouth and take my cock, or I’m gonna find someone else who will.” You snapped your mouth shut at his words, an ugly feeling of jealousy clawing underneath your skin at the thought of someone else having him. Biting the inside of your cheek, you just managed to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. 

The complete shift in his usual persona set you on edge, and you had no idea what could set him off or make things worse for you. And so, against your better judgement, you nodded in submission. His lips curled into a sadistic grin, hand moving from your jaw to thread into your hair, gripping it roughly. 

“Get on yer fuckin’ knees.” He growled, practically tugging you down by your hair towards the ground before your body could even begin to process his command. The feeling of your knees hitting the ground made you hiss in pain, but you quickly buried the response as he tilted your head up and shoved your face into the seat of his pants. 

His jeans smelled of dirt, sweat, and ash, making your nose crinkle in distaste, but not wanting to complain and set him off even more, you kept it to yourself. Groaning above you, John’s breathing was heavy as he ground his clothed cock against your cheek. The rough material of his pants was painful against the skin of your face and you whimpered softly as his fingers pulled harder at your hair. 

“Get my dick out.” The command was sharp and left no room for complaint. Wanting to make quick work of the situation, you tugged his pants open, finding he had no underwear on, and his cock was already more than half hard. The idea of him being hard and getting off to this made your stomach twist unkindly, bile rising in your throat. 

Ignoring the burning sensation, you dropped open your jaw and went to take him into your mouth when his firm grip in your hair stopped you. 

“Did I fuckin’ say ye could?” His tone was harsh and cruel, laced with a mocking lilt. “Greedy fuckin’ slag. Only good fer takin’ cock, ain’t ye? Go on then. Open up and make this worth my time.” 

Taking hold of his ruddy cock, he slapped your cheek with it, pushing it into your face as he continued to press his hips forward. When you didn’t take it straight away, he tapped two fingers to your chin and you immediately dropped your jaw open, allowing him to bury his cock to the hilt. The feral moan he let out as his head tipped back made your cunt clench shamefully. 

The bulbous head of his cock breached your throat easily, making you gag violently and move to pull off, but he held you down, growling at you. Suddenly, a hand slapped across your cheek, causing you to let out a muffled cry at the sting. 

“Ye’ll take what I fucking give ye, understand? Dinnae even think about disobeying me.” His tone was already ragged, signalling he was on edge. A small mercy, really, because it meant this would hopefully be over soon and you could get John back. Or at least, who you thought John was. 

He swore under his breath as he began to buck his hips forward, holding your head steady as he thrust in and out of your mouth. Relaxing your throat as much as you could, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, the sharp bite providing a slight distraction from the painful stretch of your jaw. His heavy balls slapped against your chin with every movement of his hips and he groaned out noises of pleasure as you continued to swallow him down obediently. 

Tears streamed down your face as you squeezed your eyes shut, the thrusts continuing. You tried to regulate your breathing as much as possible whenever he pulled back, focusing on not passing out as he fucked your throat brutally. 

“Open yer eyes!” Another slap landed on your cheek and you choked out a sob, blinking your teary eyes open to stare at his cruel face, leering down at you. You couldn’t even properly focus on him, the vision swimming before your eyes. “That’s it, show me how messy ye are. How messy this cock makes ye.”

To contrast with the brutal thrusts, he released one hand from your hair, cupping your cheek as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. He pulled out fully, making you lurch forward, coughing as you heaved deep gulps of air back into your empty lungs. Wiping your lips dry of spit, you looked up at him, hoping to see a shift in his expression, but there wasn’t. 

“Up.” His voice was still cold and your heart gave a painful thump, missing the usual warmth and care that came with his touch. You obeyed his command instantly. “Strip and bend over the sofa.” The tone left no room for protests, but to emphasise his point, he spanked your ass, making you jump into action. Rushing around him, you pulled off your clothes, hearing him move close behind you. 

You’d barely managed to tug off your underwear and bend over the arm of the couch when his hands were back on you. They were demanding, touching and squeezing and prodding at every inch of your body as if he had the right to every part of you. Burying your head into the plush cushioning, you whimpered out a cry as he shoved several fingers into you. He tittered, clicking his tongue in annoyance at what he felt. 

“Ye nae properly wet? Tha’s nae my issue. Shoulda used that dumb head o’ yers to realise I was gonna fuck ye next.” His words caused your eyes to widen. Breath hitching, you whipped around, shaking your head pleadingly as you reached for him. 

“John, please— just talk to me, we can—”

“Shut. Up. If I wanted to talk, I’d be talking, not fuckin’ ye. If ye cannae take it, smack me three times for fucks sake.” He said scathingly, pushing your head back down into the cushions. “Dumb fuckin’ bitch fer making it harder than it needs tae be.” 

He was giving you an out, you realised, head finally processing the words. All you had to do was hit him and he’d stop. Raising your fist up, it hovered in the air next to your body. The grip on you was still firm, but he paused all his movements, waiting for your response. The fist you made shook as you squeezed tightly, nails digging into your palm. Yes, he’d stop, but he also said he’d leave and fuck someone else earlier if you refused. Hating yourself and the cruel words he was spitting out, you lowered your hand back down, instead clutching at the fabric of the couch to distract yourself. 

John’s hands pulled your hips back to rest flush against his as he ground himself forward with a sadistic chuckle. 

“Knew ye wanted it, whore. Now shut ye gob and take my dick like ye were made tae.” Leaning over you, he spat directly onto your cunt, filling you with his thick fingers and crooking them just how you liked it, making your body react, jerking and clenching around his fingers as you moaned into the couch.

When he decided you’d been prepped enough, a hand tangled into your hair and shoved your face into the couch. His cock pressed into you, a burning stretch accompanying the slow slide. Your eyes snapped open and you breathed, trying to relax yourself as he buried himself into you, groaning against the skin of your back. 

“There we go. Was that really worth all that struggle?” The words were mocking as he began to thrust, immediately moaning when he felt you clench around him. “Good fuckin’ bitch. Being such a good cock sleeve fer me, lettin’ me use yer holes like this. Maybe I should fuck that arse too.”

Teeth nipped between your shoulder blades as he began to angle his hips, pressing a hand into the middle of your back to arch it further. Groaning in satisfaction, he began to slam his hips into yours, rocking pleasurably against that spot inside you he knew too well. Mostly against your will, your body began to react and you could feel yourself getting wet, making the slide of his cock easier. 

“That’s it. There we go. Yer getting wet now, ain’t ye? Just needed a fat cock in ye tae remind ye of yer place.” John let out a gruff chuckle, rolling his hips to catch against your walls, making you jerk and squeeze around him. His calloused fingers reached between your legs, playing with your clit as he continued to fuck into you from behind. You hated the fact he knew your body better than you did, you hated the fact he could play you like a fiddle, you hated the fact he knew exactly how to touch you to make you moan, and yet, you loved how he made you feel. 

Already, you were rocking your hips back against his, the familiar curling in your gut making its presence known. Moaning raggedly into the sofa, you felt tears dripping down your face, a mix of fear at what was happening and how John was acting, but also out of shameful pleasure that he was so easily wringing out of you. John grunted, babbling words that made no sense to your dizzy head as his thrusts grew harder and more erratic, making your toes curl with pleasure. 

“Fucking Christ yer tight. Thought ye’d surely be loose by now wit how many times I’ve fucked ye. Just a good wee whore fer me, aye?” His teeth sunk into the skin of your shoulder as one of his strong arms pulled you flush against his chest, the other still toying with your clit. “Feels so fucking good around me, god I miss this cunt when I’m gone. My fist doesnae even dae it justice. Always dream of fucking it when I get back.” 

Unable to stop yourself, the tension that had been building inside of you snapped with his words and you cried out, a sobbing moan signalling your release. John swore viciously, pressing you back down into the sofa as his pace picked up, chasing his own release now. Your brain was barely functioning and you couldn’t process anything around you, just laid there pressed into the cushions of your couch as your sort-of-boyfriend railed his cock into you until he moaned his release loudly. 

His body trembled, shaking violently as his cock twitched inside you, filling you with his seed. Nails dug into your hips as he held you close, not letting you escape for several minutes as he continued to climax. When he’d finally finished, he pulled out of you with a groan, fingers immediately scooping his cum and pressing it back inside you as he cooed softly, kissing up your spine.  

Now that the heat of the moment had passed, you squirmed away from him, feeling disgusted with yourself. Pushing yourself up on shaky legs, you stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring the calls of your name as you shut and locked the door behind you. The handle jiggled frantically, a large body slamming into the door before the knocks started. 

“Doll? Doll, c’mon. Open up fer me.” Even to your ears, his voice sounded strained and panicked, but you couldn’t do it. The only thought on your mind was what he’d said earlier, about leaving you. “Please, sweetheart, just talk tae me. Dinnae shut me out!”

Turning the shower onto a blisteringly hot temperature, you crawled under the hot spray, tears rolling down your cheeks and mixing with the water as you cried, curled on the shower floor. The rapid knocking ceased or maybe you had just tuned it out under the sound of the pouring water. Maybe he’s finally gotten the message and decided you weren’t worth it, you thought miserably, head resting against the tiles. However, with John, that was wishful thinking. 

A few moments later, your ears managed to catch the sound of the lock clicking and the door being pushed open. Of course he could pick locks, idiot, you chided yourself. The curtain of the shower was pulled back, revealing his frantic, worried face. 

“What in God’s fucking name— fucking shite lassie!” He yelped in surprise at the heat of the water, hissing as he pulled his arm back and glaring at the tap. Turning the tap, the water immediately cooled, much to your dismay “Ye tryin’ tae burn yerself or summat?” 

“Yes.” You spat, the harshness of your tone taking him aback as you turned your body away from him. Frowning, John crouched down, his hand reaching to slide up your arm, but you pulled out of his reach. 

“What’s going on wit ye? Just upping and leaving like that?”

“Just leave!” You sobbed, curling into yourself tighter. He made a noise of confusion, climbing into the shower with you and sitting on the edge. 

“Nae until ye talk tae me.” 

“Why should I? You didn’t talk to me earlier.” John’s eyebrows remained pinched together as his head tilted, as though confused by your words. 

“Wha— hen, ye ken I cannae talk about my job. I’d just had a rough mission, needed to let off some steam.” Your eyes widened at his reasoning, tears pricking in them all over again as you scoffed at him, shaking your head. 

“Are you fucking serious? You needed to blow off steam?” The pitch of your voice rose as anger set in. “You fucked me like that because you needed to blow off steam?” 

The expression on John’s face grew a little more jaded as he eyed you cautiously. 

“What’s the matter? Ye had no issue wit it, ye came, ye didnae say no.” He shrugged, simply believing he was laying out facts as he stared at you, huddled in the corner on the shower floor. 

“You said you’d fuck someone else if I didn’t let you fuck me!” Reaching over, you shoved him, taking him by surprise. Confusion spread over his face as he processed your words before shaking his head. 

“I wouldnae dae that, lassie. Just was in a mood after we got back and needed a rough fuck.” A look of impatience was beginning to set in on his expression. “Ye didnae say no.” He repeated, raising his scarred brow. 

“I would have said no.”

“No, ye wouldnae have if i talked tae ye, so i just skipped a step. Ye never say no anyway.” Opening your mouth to protest, he waved his hand, voice turning gruff. “I dinnae wanna fight wit ye. I came here tae relax so are ye gonna calm down about this or am I gonna have tae leave?”

From your position on the floor of the shower, you turned your head away from him further, so he couldn’t witness you crying anymore than he already had. You felt stupid over how insecure you’d been, and felt you should have realised he wouldn’t go seeking someone else out, but the feeling still lingered deep in the back of your mind. 

“How was I supposed to know?” Sighing heavily, he ran a gentle hand through your drenched hair, wiping it off your face. 

“C’mon hen, get out of the shower. I’m nae talking tae ye in here like this. Yer being silly, doll.” Shrinking in on yourself, you nodded meekly, standing up under his watchful gaze. 

John didn’t speak through the process, pressing his fingers to your lips or holding up his hand if you even opened your mouth. Towelling you off, he pulled a clean shirt— one of his shirts, you noted— over your head before steering you into your bedroom. 

Stepping out for a moment, he came back in with your phone, your water bottle, and a heat pack. Silently, he set your bottle down before tucking the heat pad onto your chest before tucking you in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked your forehead, staring down at you. 

“Feeling better, doll?” 

“No.” His eyes closed as he sighed, jaw flexing. 

“Are ye gonna talk tae me properly?” 

“I was! You didn’t talk to me, John.” 

“Ye ken I’ve got a hard life, lassie. And I told ye I wasnae a good man. I’ve warned ye. Sometimes I just—” Biting his tongue and clenching his fists, he took a moment to breathe before continuing. “Sometimes I need tae fuck rough and hard, completely dominate something.”

“Then just tell me that. I thought I’d done something wrong, or made you upset. Then you said you’d fuck someone else and I… I didn’t know what to think. You’ve never been like that with me.” You stared up at him, but his eyes were locked onto the floor. His foot tapped rhythmically as you watched his jaw clench and unclench. 

“I’d never really hurt ye. Doll, ye mean a lot tae me. Just needed tae get that out of my system. Yer fine, we’re fine.” The casual dismissal as he stood up didn’t sit right with you, but you knew it wasn’t going anywhere, especially not with everything so raw and John on edge after just getting back. So you relented. 

“Okay. Just… you’re not mad at me, right?” Sliding under the covers, John wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so he could spoon you, hand resting against your chest. 

“Nay, umnae mad at ye, lassie.” He confirmed, mumbling into the back of your neck. 

John fell asleep soon after that, his snoring filling the quiet room as you laid awake, crying silently in his arms. You were still confused and hurt by his actions, not really understanding why he’d reacted this way towards you, and why he refused to take any ownership. The whole relationship was a mess, with no real structure, but all the same, you couldn’t imagine yourself without him. 

Finally, after several hours lying awake, you managed to fall into a fitful sleep, plagued with horrid dreams about John leaving one day and never coming back. When you awoke the next morning, you felt groggy and disoriented. Glancing over, you saw the other side of the bed was empty. Trying to ignore the ache in your heart, you reached over to tug the pillow close, inhaling the lingering musky, yet spicy scent of John that you’d become accustomed to. 

The door clicked open and you bolted up, eyes wide. John was stepping into the room, two mugs of coffee in hand, his hair still ruffled by sleep. 

“Mornin’, lass. Didnae mean tae wake ye.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he set one mug down on your bedside table before sliding into his side of the bed. “Did ye sleep okay?” 

“Not really.” You told him honestly, but he seemed to expect that, already looking down at you fondly. Throwing an arm around your shoulders, he pulled your head down to rest against his bare chest. The soft hair tickled your nose slightly, but you buried your face into the firm chest, relishing in the warmth he provided. 

“My poor sweet girl. Not tae worry, ye can rest on me.” He kissed you again, running his hand up and down your back tenderly. You furrowed your brows, still slightly put off from the events of last night, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart thumped happily when things were easy like this. 

Keeping your mouth shut, you rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Reaching over to his side, he picked up a journal and flicked it open to a new page. 

“What’s this?”

“A journal.” His blunt tone broke into a soft laugh as you smacked his chest in annoyance. “Something I started a while back. Just tae note down a lot of things. Mission plans and such.”

He flicked a few pages back, showing you maps, lists, and sketches of various things he’d clearly come across while deployed. 

“You can draw?” He hummed, flicking a few more pages back until he found the one he wanted. Letting out a soft gasp, you pushed yourself up, looking down at your own face sketched into his journal countless times, each one displaying a different emotion. 

“Had tae draw most of ye from memory. Did that a few months ago on a few lonely nights when I was missing ye, and wasnae sure if I was gonna make it back.” Unable to take your eyes off the pages, you reached out to tenderly trace the lines, admiring every piece of artwork he’d created. In the corner of the page, he’d written one word: mine. 

“They’re amazing, John. I didn’t know you could do this.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he lifted his hand to cup your cheek. 

“I dinnae like showing it tae people. It’s… private.” There was an edge of reluctance to his voice, but his eyes were focused on yours, as though conveying a secret. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew exactly what he was telling you, and it sent shivers down your body. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” 

“What kind of man would I be if I didnae trust my girl?” Tapping your chin with the tip of his pen, he flicked back to an empty page and began to write. 

The moment between you was sweet and domestic as he wrote in his journal, allowing you to read the entry as you curled into his side. That act alone eased the feeling in your chest, that he trusted you, and wanted you by his side. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you still wanted to face what had passed. 

“Why didn’t you talk to me last night, John?”  His breathing didn’t even stutter as he continued to write. 

“This mission was rough, darling. We— I lost a lot of good men because of a decision I had tae make.” The stubble on his jaw scratched against your forehead as he leaned his head down. “I needed tae take my mind off it.” 

Cupping the back of your head, his fingers threaded into your hair, holding you close to him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the calming scent of your shampoo. 

“Still, it would have been nice to just… know. I know you can’t tell me everything, but I’m not stupid, John. I want to be here for you.” Your hands curled around him, holding him close. 

“I dinnae deserve ye, lassie.” He murmured into your hair. “Yer far too good fer me. Deserve so much better than me.” 

“I want you, John. And you can’t change that. Just… if you’ve had a rough time, I need you to tell me. Sex can always be on the table, but I need you to talk to me first.” 

The blue of his eyes was wide as he stared down at you, breathing slowly before nodding. 

“Aye. I can dae that fer ye, darling.” Smiling happily, you lifted your head up to press your lips against his. He sighed into the kiss, lips slowly moving against yours as you tasted the coffee lingering on his tongue. The pair of you kissed languidly for quite some time, letting the minutes tick by as you found yourself lost in him. 

“Yer mine, right doll?” He asked between kisses, his hands gently caressing the back of your neck as he continued to slide his lips against yours. 

“Always, John.” 

“Good girl.”

•••

“I’d like tae take ye somewhere I used tae go as a wee yin.” He’d said one night as you lay, cuddled together on your sofa watching a movie. It had taken a couple of seconds for you to register the words, slowly turning your head to look up at him. 

“Somewhere in Scotland?” 

“Aye. I wanna show ye my home.” He murmurs, hand mindlessly drawing shapes on your back as he remains focused on the television. “Well, nae my home town but somewhere nice. We can get away, ye ken?”

“That sounds lovely.” Humming happily, you curled into his side, indulging in the firm stability his body provided. He made a noise of satisfaction, glancing down at you with a warm smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. 

“Higher ups are pushin’ me tae take leave, so we can make a week of it, maybe a bit more. And dinnae fash yer wee head about plannin’ things, I’ll sort it out. Wanna treat my girl fer being so good tae me.” A warm buzzing filled your chest, and you felt your cheeks heat with pride. Though he never said those three little words you craved, his actions displayed more love and care that you’d received from any of your previous partners. The gifts he brought back from deployment, the nights he took you out for a nice meal, the way he worked to fix the issues that you’d been having in your flat, including the heater that your landlord had considered a ‘waste of his time and resources’. Though he never said that he loved you, he made you feel loved. 

In return, you tried to give back as much as he gave you. Cooking for him, treating him when he’d had a rough deployment, taking note of the things he enjoyed and making sure he had access to them in your home, loving him every way you knew how to. Now, with him planning a trip away like this, to his homeland no less, it felt like things were finally falling into place.

True to his word, John planned everything, keeping his cards close to his chest, only letting you know the dates of your departure and arrival back home so you could book off work. Sometimes you tried to take a snoop over his shoulder to get a glimpse of your destination, but you were always met with a playful admonishment and a tap on the nose. 

“Did no one teach ye patience, hen?” He scolded, but a wry grin spread over his face as he pulled you close. “Ye cannae wait a wee bit more?”

“I’m just excited. I haven’t gone away in so long. And you know I hate surprises.” Hoping to change his mind, you stuck out your bottom lip in a pout, and he chuckled. 

“I know we’ll have fun, darlin’. Just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” He ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was jutting out, pulling it down slightly before pressing his lips against yours. Meeting him eagerly, you wrapped an arm around his neck and he pulled you into his lap, cupping the back of your head to hold you to him. As most of his kisses did, it turned heated rather quickly, sending shivers down your spine as his hands groped at your body hungrily and his tongue pressed into your mouth. 

Sighing softly, you scraped your nails over the freshly buzzed sides of his hair that you’d done for him hours before, earning you a deep groan from him. He pulled back, breaking the kiss far too soon for your liking and stared deep into your eyes. 

“Fuck, lass. Ye know exactly how tae get me going.”

“You’re just easy.” A teasing smile graced your lips as you bit your lip. John let out an amused snort before fixing his hands around your waist and spinning you around so your back was on the sofa. The sudden movement surprised you, causing your breath to hitch and your hands to grip his shoulders.

“Bold words from the bonnie lass that cannae help but spread her legs fer me whenever I kiss her.” Whining out his name, you try to shove him back by his chest, much to his delight. Taking that as an invitation, he grabs your wrists, holding them together above your head. “When are ye gonna learn that ye cannae beat me, lass? I’ve got ye pinned.”

“Is this the real reason you’re taking me on a holiday?” You asked in jest. “So you can kiss me and tease me and bed me whenever you bloody well please?”

“I wouldnae say no tae that. And neither would you, given the way ye screamed my name last night as ye came ‘round my cock. Left scratches down my back and all.” His grin was cocky, brow raised as he stared down at you, beating you at your own game. Your face heated once more and you turned your head away from him with another pout. “Och, c’mon lassie. Ye ken I’m teasin’ ye.” 

Releasing your wrists, his hands returned to your sides and his mouth descended to your chest, nipping his way along your collarbones. Suppressing a moan, you ran your own hands up his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. The movement made him chuckle into your chest, lifting his head to cock his brow arrogantly. 

“Shut up.” You groused, pushing him lightly once more. 

“Tae answer yer question, umnae takin’ ye just tae bed ye, hen. I want us tae spend time together in my home country. Just us.” His rough hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb stroking over your cheekbone as he stared deep into your eyes. “But umnae gonna complain if we do.”

“You’d better not.” The snide reply was quickly drowned by giggles as he tickled up your sides. Tears of laughter pricked into the corners of your eyes as you tried to shove him away, but as always, his body was an immovable force. But he relented, resting his hands on the curve of your hips as he grinned above you. 

“Darlin’, I’m never gonna complain about being able tae be wit ye. Fuck, I’m the luckiest man alive.” No matter how hard you bit your lip, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading wide across your face as you stared into his bright blue eyes. He made you happy, so incredibly happy, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

•••

Inverness was absolutely breathtaking, and quickly became one of your favourite places in the world. John had taken great care showing you around the unofficial highland capital, acting as your tour guide as he showed you around the highlands with pride. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in adoration as he spoke endlessly about the history of the town and surrounding areas, telling you old folk tales and legends. 

He’d taken you to Loch Ness and the castle overlooking the giant lake, telling you ghost stories about the Loch Ness Monster, and all those that she had taken to lie with her in the depths. You laughed at his stories as he held you by the lake, pouring you wine and kissing your neck. 

“I wouldnae let her take ye, doll.” He whispered against your neck, his fingers tracing along the hem of your shirt. “No one will take my girl from me, not even an old monster. Yer mine.” Laughing softly, you cupped the back of his neck, burying yourself into his warm embrace, the chilly wind nipping at your body. 

“You’d better not. I’d hate to live the rest of my life at the bottom of a lake. And without you, of course.” He made a noise of contentment, wrapping the plaid blanket further around the pair of you, holding you close under the fading light of the setting sun. You could easily feel the steady beating of his heart with how close he was, a complete contrast to your rapidly beating one. 

The pair of you headed back to the car once the sun had dipped below the horizon, the wind picking up and blowing your hair wildly around you. Lacing your fingers through his didn’t do much to stop the other hand that kept wandering down your body, groping you teasingly. Once you got to the car, John pushed you against the cool metal pressing his lips to yours for a moment before opening the door and climbing into the back seat with you. He took you right there, hips bucking up into yours as you rode him, panting, and fogging up the windows, not caring who saw, easily bringing you to your peak like he had so many times before.

During your trip, Inverness’ monthly farmer’s market was on, allowing the two of you to peruse the local hand-made goods. John kept a close eye on everything you took an interest in, telling you that if you wanted it, he’d buy it for you. Of course, you initially refused, but John was stubborn and soon enough, his arms were full of things you’d taken a liking to. 

“You didn’t have to! You’re the one that’s paying for so much of this trip. I feel bad.” You told him as you sat down for lunch in a local pub. A lively folk band was playing music, but you and John were tucked in a booth in the corner, far enough away that you didn’t have to strain your voices over the instruments. Waving a hand in dismissal, John shook his head at your words. 

“Pay it no mind, doll. I like buyin’ things fer ye. Seeing that bonnie smile on yer face makes it worth it.” Your face immediately broke into a shy grin and you glanced away from him, nudging his shin with your foot.

“Still, I don’t know how I can repay you.” Setting his drink down with a soft sigh, he reached out to take your hand, thumb tracing over yours as he stared kindly at you. 

“You bein’ here wit me is payment enough, darlin’.” His eyes were warm, making your heart hammer in excitement, your head feeling giddy with happiness. Raising your glass, you clinked it against his, hooking your ankles with his under the table, causing him to smile coyly at your playfulness. “Though maybe if ye keep that up, I’ll be seekin’ payment in other ways.”

“You’ll get us kicked out of here.” You scolded him, immediately catching his implication. The smile on his face only spread, eyes glittering roguishly.

“It wouldnae be me causing us tae get kicked out, doll. It’d be you and yer inability to keep yer mouth shut and voice down when I’m inside ye.” That comment earned him a swift kick to the shins under the table, making him grunt out a low curse. 

The cottage he’d rented for your stay was quaint and old-fashioned, a short drive out of the main town, located on a farmer’s property. The couple who owned the farm were older, but incredibly sweet, making themselves available for anything you or John needed during your stay. The lady of the house always seemed to have a twinkle in her eye whenever she looked at the pair of you.

“Is this a special trip fer the two of ye?” She’d asked one morning as you joined her in feeding the chickens. 

“Not particularly. Just a nice getaway for the two of us. He’s quite a busy man.” You replied over your shoulder as you moved to collect the eggs for her.

“Och, I dinnae think so, lassie. Ye should see the way the lad looks at ye when yer not payin’ attention. If I wasnae mistaken, I’d say he looks ready tae get on his knees fer ye.” There was that gleam again in her eye as she spoke, and you felt the tips of your ears heating at her implication. 

“No, not yet. We’re…” Trailing off, your brows furrowed as you thought about how to label your relationship. John had always turned the conversation around if you’d even attempted to approach the subject, or given you a vague answer. Then, he did things like this, romantic things that made you crave more and left you more confused than ever about his intentions. “It’s complicated.” You finished off your sentence cryptically. 

“Aye, a lot of the good relationships are. Pay it no mind. Lads that have seen many horrors tend tae take a wee while tae come ‘round. My husband was the same. Took him nigh on 6 winters to propose. Certainly wasnae the way things were done in my day. But I loved him, and I ken he loved me. I reckon yer laddie’s much the same.” Fluffing her apron, she grabbed the now empty basket of feed and began walking back to the main house with you in tow. 

Her words ran through your head for the rest of the day as you spent time with John. He knew something was on your mind, but he didn’t address it until later at night when the pair of you were indulging in a glass of wine in the hot tub that overlooked the rolling hills of the farm.

“What’s been on yer mind today, hen?” Reaching out, he pulled you onto his lap. Having the small cottage to yourself, the pair of you had foregone clothes, leaving his hands free to roam your bare body under the warm water without restriction as he waited for you to speak.

“Just Mrs Fraser being her usual self.” Keeping your tone casual, you attempted to brush off his question, but his large hand squeezed your waist, signalling you to continue. “She was commenting on you, and how you look at me. How we remind her of her and her husband when they were younger.”

“How so?” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he kept his tone light, matching yours.

“She could tell you’ve been through things. Said her husband was similar and that it took him a while longer than she expected for the relationship to progress, and she was assuming you were the same.” His hand squeezed your waist again, more firmly this time, conveying his discomfort, making your heart sink. 

“And what did ye tell her?” 

“Well there isn’t much to tell her, is there?” You tried to keep your tone neutral, but it came out slightly harsher than you’d meant, evident by the way John’s body grew rigid. The man sighed, tilting his head down to rest on your shoulder. 

“Darlin’, please, dinnae think that I like keeping ye out. I care fer ye, deeply. Christ, I’ve taken ye here, tae my home, what more do ye want?” 

“I know it takes time,” you said patiently, having taken a breath to calm yourself down, “and I appreciate everything that we’ve done together, but sometimes I wish I could have more of you. There are parts of you that are just… untouchable.” Placing a hand over his heart, you smiled at him softly, wriggling closer to his body for warmth as the wind picked up. 

“There are parts of me I’d never want ye tae see, sweetheart.” His voice was barely above a whisper, eyes sad as he lifted a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb tracing along the skin. 

“Why?”

“Please, dinnae ask that.” His voice cracked and he pulled your forehead closer to rest against his. Fingertips gripped the back of your neck as he breathed shakily, squeezing his eyes closed. Sensing something was eating at him, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, tucking your chin on top of his head. And once again, that was the end of that discussion. 

He didn’t bed you that night, instead choosing to hold you tightly, pressed against his chest for comfort. Whenever you tried to roll away, he grunted in protest, pulling you back against him and pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Eventually, you relented, allowing him to pull you closer and keep you locked against his body. Reaching down, you laced your fingers through his, and he hummed in approval, finally content that he was getting his way. 

Words that Mrs Fraser had said earlier though rang in your mind, making it difficult to sleep. But I loved him, and I ken he loved me. To be perfectly honest, you weren’t entirely sure if John did actually love you. Sure, he made you feel loved, but he’d always kept his emotions close to his chest. Snorting in his sleep, John moved, grunting as he held you close. Maybe you could wait a little longer to make things official, if this was how it felt to be with him in the meantime. 

The local pub was hosting a well-known cèilidh band on the last night of your stay. The excitement in the town was palpable leading up to the event, and even John had a smile on his face as he spoke to you about it. 

“I’m gonna put ye in mah clan colours and everything, lassie,” he boasted, “ye gonna have the time of ye life.” It was impossible to not get swept up in it all. There was a knock at the cottage door and you opened it, revealing Mrs Fraser with a bundle of red tartan. John let out a noise of thanks as he stepped behind you. 

“I’ll thank ye fer that, Mrs Fraser.” The smile on his face seemed to spread from ear to ear as he took the plaid from the older lady. 

“Ye need naw thank me, lad. T’was an easy find.” She then turned her attention to you. “Is it yer first cèilidh?” Nodding, you looked between John and Mrs Fraser, both of them beaming. “Yer gonna have a grand old time. Just remember tae wear sensible shoes, or better yet, go wi’out. The last thing ye want tae do is be the first lassie tae sit down complaining of sore feet.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.” 

“And no doubt the wee lad will teach ye the basics. But dinnae worry about makin’ a wrong step. Ye’ll be welcome all the same.” Mrs Fraser dusted off her apron for a moment, sending a cloud of flour into the air. “If ye need me, I’ll be in my kitchen. I’m helpin’ the barkeep with catering.” And then she was off. 

John angled his head, looking down at you, his eyes alight with boyish mischief. Wrapping a hand around you, he pulled the pair of you inside the cottage and shut the door. He strode with purpose towards the table, spreading the tartan material out before turning around to face you, chest puffing. 

“It’s the MacTavish clan colours.” He announced proudly. “What dae ye think?” Stepping forward, you reached out to finger the fabric. It was a deep, rich red; one that would definitely compliment the blue of his eyes. 

“It’s beautiful.” You said honestly and he hummed in approval, sliding his hands around your waist to hug you from behind. Pressing his face into your neck, he kissed along the skin as his hands travelled up to cup your breasts. 

“Just like you. And yer gonna look perfect in it.” He repeated, moving his body side to side, continuing the slow tune as his hands continued to roam. 

“You really know how to dance?”

“Aye, I ken my way around the dances. If not, I’ll just improvise. It’s all about the atmosphere. Now, get dressed, or we’re not gonna make it in time.” 

The pair of you almost didn’t make it in time for the opening song. The band was poised and ready to start when you slipped your way in, hair a little more mussed than you would have liked, because when you’d come out wearing the tartan sash, John had all but lost control, and bent you over the cottage table as he lifted his kilt up to take you then and there. His face was glowing as he pulled you into his side, listening to the jolly tune of the music begin to fill the room. 

“Ye ready, hen?” Biting your lip nervously, you gave him a half shrug, and he let out a dismissive noise. “Ye’ll be fine. Nothin’ tae it. Just have fun wit me, aye?” 

You found yourself drawn into his bright eyes, full of excitement as he tilted his head, tugging at your waist. With little resistance he pulled you into the throng of people. Taking firm hold of you with one hand, and clasping yours in his other, John began to lead you through the dances. They were fairly simple, steps all in time with the rhythmic beat, and soon enough, you found yourself lost in the music. 

There was little reprieve between songs, with the next starting up almost immediately after the former had finished, but you found yourself so captivated by your dance partner that you felt little need to rest. He had you twirling, and stepping, and spinning for what felt like hours on end, each dance different than the last. 

Face spread wide into a grin the whole time, you stared up into his equally joyful one; smile lines and crow’s feet prominent as he laughed, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Sweat beaded on your brow and you felt your lungs heaving from effort, but you continued to follow John’s lead, allowing him to pull you around the dance floor in a series of steps until the music swelled and with a final step, he pulled you tight against him and the musicians stopped playing, the room instead filled with copious cheers and applauses for the band. 

You, instead of clapping along with the crowd, were completely captivated by the man in front of you. His face was flushed red, sweat causing the tips of his mohawk to stick to his forehead. His chest was heaving as he panted, but he kept you locked against him as he stared down at you with an elated smile. 

“Ye never told me ye could dance like that, lassie.” He said breathlessly, finally breaking the spell between you and pulling you off to the bar to get some water. 

“Neither did you!” You responded, equally as tired. Handing you a glass first, you thanked him and immediately brought the cup to your lips, draining the glass and refilling it once more. 

“Reckon ye could go another round?” His voice was casual, but you could hear the slight upward lilt to his question, as if he were hoping you’d say yes. Smiling widely, you hooked your arm around his, setting the glass aside.

“For you? Anything.” His eyes crinkled with happiness and he leaned in to press a soft peck to your lips before pulling you back onto the dance floor. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in that pub for, nor how long you’d been dancing, but the air slowly became stifling the longer you danced. When the band finally bid their farewells for the night, you and John stepped outside, breathing in lungfuls of the cool night air. 

“That was amazing.” Tilting your head up to lean against his shoulder, you grinned up at him as he threw an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked through the empty streets. 

“I’m glad ye enjoyed it. It's been a while since I took any time tae myself.” Sighing heavily, he tilted his head up to look at the sky. “I’ve missed bein’ home.” 

“Thank you for bringing me here, John,” Halting your movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling him into a soft kiss which he eagerly returned, hands clutching at your waist. “I’ve had the most wonderful time with you.” 

The car ride back was quiet, but not tense as he held your hand, fingers intertwined together. He glanced over at you every so often, the corner of his mouth lifting up. Pulling up at the small cottage one final time, you looked at it wistfully. 

“Time’s really flown by. I almost don’t want to go back.” 

“Then we’d best make a night of it. What do ye say, lassie?” He grinned, stepping out of the car and walking over to your side to open the door for you as rain began to fall. Ushering you towards the cottage, he pushed the door open, but was stopped by your hand grabbing his shirt. Making a noise of confusion, he looked over his shoulder to see you looking out at the falling rain. Turning back, with a glint in your eye, you motioned with you head. 

“Dance with me again?” 

“Ye wanna dance in the rain?” Chuckling, John shook his head, raising an eyebrow dubiously, but you persisted. 

“Please? I know it’s cliche but let me have this. Come on, John!” Sticking out your bottom lip in a pout, you could see the exact moment when John caved. Eyes closing, he grinned broadly before taking your hand and pulled you out underneath the cloudy sky. 

Shrieking at the initial feeling of the cool water droplets on your skin, it was soon forgotten as he once more began to lead you in a dance of his own choosing. Laughing and twirling, you spun around with him, skirt and kilt flapping in the wind alike. The pair of you danced until you felt the material of your dress sticking to your skin and his hair was plastered to his scalp. Your lips were spread wide in a grin as you looped your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes and you realised that you couldn’t be happier. That this, that he, was what you wanted. 

“I think… I think I’m falling in love with you, John.” Your voice was barely audible as you blinked up at him, wet lashes clinging together. His brows pinched slightly in confusion. 

“What d’ye mean, darlin?”

“I love you, John. Truly. I love you.” The soft sway he’d been leading you through halted as he looked down at you. His eyes grew wide as he glanced between yours, taking in your expression, and realising just how serious you were, he swallowed audibly. 

“Ye cannae mean that.” He whispered just as softly as he looked deep into your eyes, a gentle hand pushing the hair off your forehead. 

“I’m serious. I know you have your reservations about us, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I want this, it feels right. We feel right.” You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, terrified as to what he would say. The hands behind his neck were clasped tightly, nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep yourself distracted from the lengthy periods of silence. 

His eyes were wet, from tears or rain you weren’t sure, and his breathing was ragged. Sliding a hand up to cup the back of your head, he leaned in to press his forehead against yours. 

“Ye should leave me. Run far from me.” He said, but his actions were in direct opposition to his words. He clung to you, one hand on your waist as his fingers gripped you tightly. 

“You keep saying that. But you’ve done nothing to hurt me, John. Everything you do is to protect me.” 

“S’why I’m tryin’ tae protect ye now, lassie.”

“You come back from your trips and you stay in my house. You take the time out of your day to visit me at work and walk me to my car. You fix things around my house without question. Whoever you are to the rest of the world, you’re different with me. I want this. I want you.”

The pained expression on his face made your stomach lurch, making you nauseous and you begun to second guess yourself and his intentions. 

“I just dinnae want ye tae regret choosing someone like me.”

“I could never regret choosing someone like you.” Cupping his cheek, you watch his eyes shut and he lets out a breathy chuckle, as if he knew a secret you didn’t

“Dae ye trust me, darlin?”

“With all my heart.”

“Then say it again tae me.”

“I love you.” 

“Again.” His hands clutch at your sides, pinning you to him, not caring about your drenched clothes as he buries his face in your neck. 

“I love you, John.” 

“Jesus, lassie… yer gonna ruin me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You couldn’t help the grin that was spreading back over your face and then finally, John stood up tall, eyes staring down at you as he cupped your cheeks in his cold hands. 

“Ye mean more tae me than I can put into words.” He whispered solemnly. “I cannae promise ye much, but I do promise that ye have my heart. Ye always have, and ye always will.” 

Surging forward, he pressed his lips against yours. His mouth was demanding and possessive as his grip tightened around you, holding your body against his, as if he were afraid to lose you. It was rough and eager, cold lips sliding against yours as he pulled you towards the cottage. Fumbling at the front door for a moment, he pushed it open and without breaking the kiss, pulled you inside and pressed you against the wall as he slammed the door shut. His hands were greedy, roaming down your body and tugging at the dress you wore, peeling it off your body.

Steering you deeper into the house, you found that Mr Fraser, bless his soul, had lit a fire in the grate for the pair of you. The warmth of it was already spreading comfortingly through the air, drying your damp skin. John made quick work of your clothes, pulling them off and tossing them aside with little regard for where they landed and he did the same with his own, only breaking the kiss once to tug his shirt over his head. 

His lips weren’t gone from yours long, immediately re-attaching as his calloused hands slid up the contours of your body, taking in every inch of you with gentle attentiveness.

“Sue me fer bein’ cliche,'' He groaned between kisses as he continued to push you into the main area of the cottage, “but I wanna have ye by the fire.” Grinning into the kiss, you nodded, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to hold him to you. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the couch as you passed, nudging you towards the fireplace. 

He broke the kiss, and you whined in displeasure, but soon choked out a soft moan instead as his mouth trailed wet kisses down your body. Kneeling down in front of you, his hands grabbed your ass as his mouth continued downwards, nipping over your hips and thighs. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous. So fuckin’ gorgeous. And yer mine, all fuckin’ mine.” He groaned pathetically, head resting on your hip as he panted, breath fanning over your skin. Running a hand through his cropped hair, you tilted his head up to meet his eyes. His brows were pinched together, mouth parted as the scruff of his stubble grazed your skin. 

“I love you.” John groaned again, eyes fluttering shut, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. 

“Fuck me, I’ll never be sick of ye sayin’ that tae me.” His breath tickled your skin as he lightly dragged his teeth over the skin of your stomach, his hands sliding up the curve of your ass. “Please, I need ye, doll.” 

His voice was strained, desperate as he blinked up at you, hands tugging you down until you were spread over the plush rug. John hooked your legs around his hips, placed the pillow underneath, and leaned in to capture your lips once again. You could feel his hard, leaking cock pressing against the inside of your thigh as he groaned throatily. 

Tucking his face into your neck, he sucked claiming marks onto your skin, working his way down to your breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he paid careful attention to both, splitting his time evenly as he dragged his tongue over and sucked at your nipples. Whining softly, you arched your back, pressing yourself into his hands, wanting more, but he was content on taking his time. 

“Just let me worship ye, darlin’. Yer worth it, every fuckin’ moment of it.” Moving down, he trailed his hands up the backs of your thighs, holding your legs apart so he could lower his face between your legs. 

Unable to stifle your noises, you moaned in ecstasy as he sealed his mouth over your clit, tongue flicking over the sensitive nerves as he sucked intently. Glancing down, your heart leaped as you saw his eyes staring straight at your pleasure filled face. 

Reaching a hand down, his fingers slid between your already soaked folds, pressing his thick digits deep into you. The pair of you moaned in unison, you at the stretch and him and the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The light of the fire cast a golden glow over the pair of you, heating you from the outside even as John’s actions made your hair stand on end. 

“That’s it, mah bonnie hen. Take it. Take everything ye need from me.” Curling his fingers and brushing against that sweet spot deep inside you, John continued to stimulate you, focusing all his attention on your release. The slick sound of his fingers entering you mixed with your soft noises and the crackles of the fire made your head spin as he cooed appraising words. 

“So good fer me. So fuckin’ good. Can feel how wet ye are, how badly ye want this. God ye look so fuckin’ bonnie like this.” Feeling you clench around his fingers again, he doubled his efforts, grunting as he buried his face into your cunt. 

Gasping, your breathing turned ragged as you carded your hands through the strands of his hair, toes curling as you felt the familiar coil in your gut. 

“John!” Your voice was desperate and needy and you canted your hips up, chasing the heavenly feeling of his mouth against you. He hummed, sending vibrations through your core, making you shiver. Not letting up, John continued to suck on your clit and kept his fingers deep in your cunt, the stubble on his face burning your inner thighs pleasurably. 

You could feel your body heating up quickly, a mix of the roaring fire nearby and the way John so attentively brought you closer. Placing one of his large hands on your stomach, you glanced down to look into his eyes once more. His eyes were wide and desperate, pleading with you as his tongue continued to flick and swirl exactly how you liked it. 

Unable to hold on anymore, your body jerked as you cried out, one hand pinned to his hair and the other grasping at the rug below you. John didn’t let up until your body stopped shaking, and when he pulled away, you could see the glint of your wetness covering his chin in the firelight as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin. 

“I’ll never get over how ye taste either.” He growled, eyes dark with lust as he crawled his way up your body. Hitching your legs over his hips, he dragged his leaking cock up your slit, cursing under his breath at the feeling. Resting his forehead against yours, he sunk into you easily, the pair of you moaning in sync at the feeling. 

His breathing was shaky as his hips thrust forward into yours, slowly working up a rhythm that had you curling your toes and clutching at his strong arms. 

“Just— fuck— lemme have ye,” Lowering his face, mouth against your ear, you could hear every moan and grunt that left his lips as he continued to rut into you leisurely, “I need ye so fuckin’ badly. Ye feel heavenly wrapped around me like this.” 

His breathing turned ragged the longer he fucked you. He never tired and never slowed down as though thrusting into you was keeping him alive. A hand threaded through your hair at the crown of your head, clutching tightly and keeping your head still as the pace began to increase. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing pleasurably against your clit with every stroke, feeding your need for him further. 

“You have me, you’ve always had me.” You whispered into his ear, pressing your body up against his, a thin sheen of sweat causing your bodies to slide against each other. Every thrust of his cock was slippery, meeting no resistance as he continued to grunt and moan next to your ear. 

Everything was hot; the air, the fire, his body, his breath panting against your neck, and the familiar heat once more curling inside you. He was rambling now, making nonsensical noises as he continued to pump his hips. You could feel your head spinning, losing your sense of self the longer he was inside you. Running your hands along his arms and locking your legs around his hips, you moaned encouragingly, close to finding your release. 

“Together. Please— fuck— I need tae feel ye come ‘round me as I fill ye.” He groaned, the hand that was still in your hair clutching tightly, but not painfully as his other hand wrapped around your thigh, keeping you pinned to him. “Please, love. Please.” 

Hearing the term of endearment sent jolts down your spine, and you bucked your hips up to meet his, the stimulation becoming too overwhelming. Gripping onto him tightly, you cried out, walls squeezing and fluttering tightly around his cock. John choked out a low sound, nails digging into the skin of your thigh as his pace stuttered and he quickly followed suit, spilling himself deep into you. 

Panting heavily, John’s heavy body remained tightly pressed against yours, not wanting to pull back just yet. You weren’t complaining, especially as you kept your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, making his cock twitch mildly even as it flagged inside of you. 

“Say it.” His voice was hoarse as he breathed, the side of his head resting against yours. 

“I love you.” You repeated again, much to his delight. Pushing himself up, he stared down at you, his eyes soft and appraising as his large hands ran down your front appreciatively. 

“I dinnae deserve ye. But I’m selfish, and I willnae let ye go.” The words were barely audible, but they made your heart thump happily nonetheless. Feeling tears of happiness prick into your eyes, you sniffed, legs still wrapped around him tightly. 

After spending what felt like hours kissing, still intimately connected in front of the fire, John finally carried you to the bedroom where he once again worshipped you over and over again. The moments felt like bliss as you kept confessing, and he kept taking and taking. It was hours later when the pair of you finally drifted off, worn out and tightly wrapped around each other, sleeping peacefully. Finally, you thought, things were finally how they should be. 

•••

The trip home was pleasant, albeit sad as you mourned the honeymoon-esque time you’d had away with John. His hand rested comfortably over your knee, thumb caressing your soft skin every so often. Glancing over to you occasionally, he met your eyes, the corner of his lips pulling upwards into a smirk. It wasn’t long before your street came into view, and John pulled up outside your flat. 

He insisted on carrying the bags inside, refusing to accept your help as he lugged them up the stairs. Opening the door for him, he pushed inside and placed the bags down. 

“Home, sweet home.” He sighed, sprawling down onto the couch with his arm and legs open wide. Grinning, you slid into his arms, allowing them to wrap tightly around you as you lay against his chest, humming softly. 

“Thank you, John. For everything. That was amazing.” 

“Aye, it was,” He whispered, running a hand through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. “Woulda given anythin’ tae stay there longer.” His voice sounded almost remorseful. 

“We should do it. Leave our jobs and buy a farm in Scotland. Can have cows and chickens, grow old together like the Fraser’s.” The smile spread wider on your lips as the words came out, mostly said in jest, but a lingering want was still settling deep in your heart. 

You hadn’t really spoken about your confession since the previous night, but you could tell things had changed between you and John. Though the car ride back had been mostly silent, he’d kept a hand on you the entire time, as though making sure you were still there. There had been a shift between the pair of you, and despite John still not being completely open with his feelings, the way he looked at you now made up for everything. 

He cupped your cheek, looking down at you fondly as you lay on him. His lips were pulled up in a soft smile as his calloused thumb brushed the skin under your eye.

“Say it.” His voice was barely audible, as though he was terrified to even utter the words. 

“I love you.” The hand that was wrapped around your shoulders squeezed you tightly, his eyes brimming with emotion

“I dinnae think I deserve yer love, but I’m gonna take everythin’ yer willing tae give me.” Pulling you closer, he rested his forehead on yours, breathing deeply. “My girl.” 

His hands moved, sliding down your body to grip your ass, pulling your hips firmly against his. Nosing your head up, he sought out your lips, leaning in for a deep kiss to make the moment even sweeter. 

Running your palms up his chest, you gripped the soft fabric of his shirt, knees coming up on either side of his hips so you could position yourself more comfortably. Your teeth tugged on his lip, sucking it into your mouth and making him groan throatily.  His lips moved against yours with an increased fervour, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips to slide into your mouth as you sighed. 

With the kiss deepening, his hands roamed further, moving underneath your shirt to press against your body. Bending his knees, he shifted his hips, bucking you slightly so you could feel the press of his rapidly thickening erection, making you smile into the kiss. 

“Already needy, John?” You teased, pulling back and kissing along his jawline. His lips were red and swollen as his eyes fluttered, rolling as you ground yourself on top of him.

“Always fucking needy for ye, lassie.” He panted, turning his head to try and reconnect your lips when he was interrupted by a phone ringing. His work phone. 

The sound had always made your heart sink, because it was usually followed by him leaving suddenly. Normally, he answered it without much complaint, holding you close for a brief moment and telling you that he’d be back before you knew it. This time, his hands gripped your hips tightly, brows drawn together as he stared blankly in the direction of the phone, before shaking his head. 

“No. They can fuckin’ wait. Yer more important right now.” The words made your eyes widen, mouth opening in shock, but you didn’t have long to process what it meant before he restarted the kiss. Threading a hand in your hair, he held you close, making sure you couldn’t even pull away. Your heart leapt. 

The happiness didn’t last long, however, as the phone rang twice more. It was on the fourth ring that John let out a frustrated growl, pushing to sit up and reaching for the damned mobile. Answering it, he pressed it to his ear. 

“Ye’d better have a good fucking reason fer callin’.” He grit out. The tone of his voice made you shiver, recalling that night a few months ago where he’d first been really rough with you, and found yourself not being envious of the person on the other end. 

The hope of getting back to what you were doing before the call faded as you saw the shift in John’s expression, his brows now pinched in worry. He glanced at you apologetically, but you’d already resigned your fate, reaching over to squeeze his wrist affectionately before letting him go. Standing up, John spoke in a hushed tone as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

Sighing, you leaned back against the couch, staring at your bedroom door, wishing he’d walk out and say everything was fine and they didn’t need him, but the chances of that were slim. They always needed Captain MacTavish. 

Sliding your hand into your pocket, you reached for your phone before realising it wasn’t there. Cursing, you searched your bag before remembering you’d placed it on charge during the drive home. Shaking your head in annoyance, you grabbed the keys to his car and headed downstairs. 

It was there in the cup holder, still plugged in. Removing the cable and wrapping it up, you opened the centre console to put it inside before something caught your eye. Frowning, you tilted your head, reaching down to pick up the small, black ring box. 

Surely not, you thought, surely he hadn’t already bought you a ring…

You debated for a split second, wondering if it was something you should put back, but you couldn’t help the excited feeling that was clawing its way into your chest. Pursing your lips, you opened the box. 

At the sight of the contents, you frowned. It was a men’s ring. Gold and clearly worn, given the many scratches and dulling of the metal, with what appeared to be engraving on the inside. Your breath hitched and, with a shaking hand, you picked up the piece of jewellery against your better judgement. 

JM + LM

10/10/2010

Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth

You froze, mouth turning dry as you stared at the carved letters on the inside of the ring. The thumping in your chest was growing louder and faster, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. Rationally, you tried to make yourself think of every single possibility you could to justify it. 

Licking your lips in an attempt  to wet them, but your tongue felt like sandpaper, breath ragged and loud. Shoving the ring back into the box as if it had burned you, the lid of the centre console slamming shut as you locked the car behind you. Leaning against the passenger side door, you could feel yourself struggling to breathe, your mind going cloudy as your eyes became unfocused. 

He was married. John was fucking married. 

No matter what far-fetched, imaginative thought you tried to conjure up to explain it, you knew, deep in your heart that none of them were true. The way he’d acted, being so avoidant of proclaiming love and affection, the way he’d called himself selfish, and that you should run away… he wasn’t wrong. He’d been telling you the truth this whole time in his own twisted, fucked up way. 

God you were so fucking blind and stupid to fall for all his sweet words. 

Curling your fingers into a fist and sucking in a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the car to move back towards your flat for the inevitable. As you stepped inside, John was stepping out of your bedroom, sighing and shaking his head. 

“Cannae do anything right wi’out me, honestly. It’s like I have tae fucking babysit them through every wee thing— ye awryt, lassie?” Frowning, John tilted his head, taking in your rigid posture and stony expression. He made a move to step towards you, but you quickly stepped back in response, holding up a hand. 

His mouth parted, but he remained silent, eyes tracing every feature of your face as though he was trying to read your mind. You hated the fact you could see the hurt in his expression and it almost made your next words falter. But you pushed through. 

“Are you married?” 

The slight widening of his eyes only appeared for a fraction of a second, but it was enough proof for you. Taking a step back from him, you let out a shaky breath, staring directly at him. 

“Are you fucking married, John?” Your voice was demanding now as you repeated the words, having found the groove and dug in. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, pursing his lips and blinking slowly to meet your hard gaze. 

“Hen, it’s not—”

“Just tell me the fucking truth. Are you married?” The emphasis you placed on the last three words was deafening, and you could see the cracks forming in his composure. His carefully calculated image was breaking before your eyes as he fought for control. 

“It’s nothing, she means nothing—”

“She’s your wife, John MacTavish.” 

“She’s not you.” The words were like a punch to your gut, making you shake your head at him, scoffing. 

“Yeah? Because I’m new? I’m young? I’m… fun? You needed to feel something else in your life because your marriage was getting stagnant? Wanted someone to make you feel loved, is that it?” 

“Don’t you be putting words in my mouth.” He snapped, eyes flashing darkly as he raised a finger towards you. You slapped the hand away. 

“Don’t you dare point your finger at me. How fucking dare you. Did you even care? Or was I just someone else you could come to and fuck when your wife wouldn’t?” Muscles twitched in his jaw as his eyes narrowed in fury. His fist clenched and unclenched as he breathed, staring at you unwaveringly. 

“Is that what ye want me tae say? That I was just using ye tae warm my cock?” His lip curled upwards as he sneered. “Yer more than that, and ye know it.” 

“So what was it, then?” You demanded, biting your tongue to distract you as tears threatened to fall. “She didn’t give you enough attention? Needed something new in your life?” 

“Stop! Just—” Sucking in a breath, John’s face relaxed a fraction as he stepped forward, his hands resting on your shoulders as he pushed you back against the wall. As much as you attempted to resist, you couldn’t break free so you tilted your head up and glared at him instead. “Are ye gonna let me talk?” 

“Why should I, John? You’re a married man, I’m a homewrecker. Tell me why you deserve to be listened to?” The fingers on your shoulders pressed a little harder into your skin as his eyes squeezed tightly in pain. 

“Yer not, lassie. Please, this is on me. I didnae explain it to ye properly.” 

“What is there to explain? You’re married, end of story!” 

“No, there’s more just, fuck, listen tae me.” He growled, pressing you against the wall, but you shoved him away, causing him to back up a few steps. 

“Does she even know?” You spat, your nose twitching in disgust. 

“Of course not. Not that it matters anyway.” He spat back with venom. “She’s a cheating whore—”

“And that justifies your actions?” Shaking your head, you pointed your finger at him, pacing back and forth. “No, you don’t get to play the sympathy card.” 

“What? Ye would have done the same thing if I told ye the story from the beginning anyway. I saw how ye looked at me.” 

“Don’t you dare put the blame on me!” You snapped at him, eyes blazing with fury. “I didn’t know and you hid it from me.” 

“I’m sorry, alright?” He gasped, voice strained as he took hold of your wrists and pulled you close. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have told ye but I didnae ken how. Please, love, please.” 

“Are you really sorry? Because saying it and meaning it are two very different things.” The words were cold and without feeling as you stared blankly at the floor, already pulling your hands away. Letting out a strangled noise, he reached for your head, tilting it up to force your eyes to meet his.

“Don’t do this love, please. Listen tae me. Listen please.” His voice cracked as he begged, large hands cupping either side of your face. “Fuck, I didn’t mean for it tae be like this. Ye mean everything tae me.” 

“Not enough that you couldn’t be honest with me from the start because you knew it was wrong.” 

Despite how hurt you felt, watching his face crumple made your heart clench painfully. Shaking his head, John held you firmly, eyes starting into yours imploringly. 

“I should have told ye, I know I made mistakes, I know I wasnae honest but please, you have to listen—”

“No. I’ve had enough. Get out.” Pushing him away, you pointed towards the door. 

“But I—” 

“Get out, John!” You yelled, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “Get the fuck out of my flat.” 

The hurt on his face was evident and he took a step forward to reach for you one final time, but you pulled back out of his reach. Shaking your head minutely, you shut your eyes, trying to level your breathing. 

“Just go.” 

You didn’t open your eyes to start sobbing until you heard the front door click shut. 

•••

Filling the hole in your heart that John left was excruciating. He’d dug himself into every aspect of your life, reminding you constantly of his presence at every turn of your head. One night in a drunken fit of rage, you’d collected all the belongings he’d left behind along with every gift he’d bought you, shoved them into a large rubbish bag and tossed it outside. The next morning, it was gone. Whether or not John had picked it up himself wasn’t your issue. 

Blocking his number was another task you’d struggled with. At first, you’d forgotten, but then after the first day apart, the barrage of texts came through 

-> Please let me explain

-> I’m sorry, lass, please

-> I swear I’ll tell you everything 

-> Don’t shut me out 

-> I can fix this, please let me fix this 

-> I can’t be without you 

-> Please don’t let it end like this 

-> I need you 

-> I love you 

The last message had been the final straw, leaving a foul taste in your mouth. He hadn’t bothered to say it in person, struggled to do so in fact, so over text the words felt meaningless. A desperate plea to win back your favour. 

He’d thankfully steered clear of your workplace so far. You’d used the opportunity to pick up extra shifts to keep yourself busy, allowing your mind to run on autopilot throughout the weeks. 

As if you couldn’t help it, your eyes tended to find their way over to the corner of the bar where John had always sat, bringing unwanted emotions to the surface once more. The stool was currently vacant, as was most of the bar since it was nearing closing time. Sighing heavily and murmuring a good night, the last patron left, and you locked the door behind him and sunk to the floor in tears again. 

This cycle repeated for a couple of months, drowning yourself in work, drink, or other distractions to keep your mind off of John and how much you missed him. Other soldiers came into the bar, but never him. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to see him again, how it would make you feel if he did turn up. 

Everything was cold and numb without him, but there was still the bitter taste of betrayal that lingered on your tongue. The fact that he’d been married and never said a word haunted your dreams, and you began to lose count of the times you’d woken up feeling the pain all over again. 

Leaving the bar later than usual, you took a longer route home, stopping to pick up some of your favourite takeaway food before heading back. Locking your car and walking up the stairs, your mind was preoccupied on thinking what show you were going to watch to decompress that you almost missed it. The smell of tobacco with a hint of scotch and coffee lingered around your front door, making you freeze. 

Your hand was shaking as you reached for the metal handle, twisting it to find it already unlocked. In the midst of everything, you’d forgotten that John had a key to your place this whole time. Blood began to pump faster, your ears ringing as your mouth became dry. Shaking your head to clear it, and swallowing, you pushed open the door. 

John was sitting on one of your dining table chairs looking like utter shit, for lack of better description. He was still wearing his filthy clothes, obviously having just come back from deployment, boots and all. His hair was slightly longer than you’d been used to, as was the stubble on his face. 

Perking up at the sound of the door, John lifted his head and turned around, eyes wide with shock. Seeing you, he held up his hands in a pleading gesture, shaking his head. 

“Please, just hear me out, love. I need tae tell ye everythin’. Can ye let me?” Slamming your door shut and kicking off your shoes, you stomped into the kitchen, grumbling to yourself as you dumped your bag and grabbed a bottle of wine. Setting the glass bottle and the food bag down on the opposite end of the table to John, you glowered at him as you cracked open the cap. 

“You look like utter fucking shit.” Taking a long swig directly from the bottle, you found yourself looking at everything but him. 

“Lassie, please. I ken yer hurtin’, but look at me, please.” Pain was evident in his voice when he spoke, and it made you crack. Allowing your eyes to dart over and meet the familiar blue of his own. They were duller, nowhere near as lively as they’d been when you’d been dancing together back in Inverness. Back when times were simpler. 

“Have you been gone this whole time?” Pulling out the food, you began to eat, using it as a distraction as he nodded in reply. Guess that made sense why he hadn’t dropped by the bar yet. But now he was back, and he clearly wasn’t going to give this up easily. 

“I need ye tae listen tae me. It's been eatin’ at me fer weeks. I cannae even think how yer handling it—”

“Don’t act like you care about me.” The viciousness of your tone startled him for a moment, his eyes widening warily for a split second, before they calmed again. Placing his hands on the table in front of him, he continued in his soft tone. 

“I do, doll. It's why I’m here. I need tae set things straight. Even if ye dinnae want me anymore, I have tae come clean. Ye deserve tae know.”

“Well, I’m listening, John and you’re saying a whole lot of nothing!” 

Taking a deep breath, he clasped hands behind his neck as he closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. 

“I was young when I met her, I thought I knew what I wanted. We were together long before I made SAS,” He started, voice soft as he spoke to you, “The early years were good, sure, but then I started going on longer deployments. When I’d come back, we’d fight all the damn time.” 

Cracking his knuckles, John pursed his lips, moving in his chair restlessly as he spoke. Your eyes watched him closely, alternating between eating and drinking to keep your mouth occupied so you weren’t tempted to interrupt. 

“I’m not sayin’ it as an excuse, I swear it, lassie. But I grew tae resent her, how she spoke tae me, how she spoke about my job, but I was raised tae think divorce wasnae an option, so I pushed through.” Resting his elbows on the table, he dropped his head so it could rest on his palms. 

“I came back one night and found her in bed wit someone else, and she told me it wasnae the first time either.” His voice was hollow as he spoke and he covered his mouth as he sucksd in another deep breath. “Tha’ was the first night I was at the bar.” 

The fact that he seemed genuinely heartbroken made your stomach squirm uncomfortably, and you looked away from him, biting your tongue for the moment. 

“I tried tae stay away from ye. I knew it would be more harm than good tae rope ye into my fuckin’ mess of a life. It wouldnae be fair on ye. I tried tae keep my distance…” His voice trailed off helplessly, looking over to you with his palms out. 

“So you’re blaming me because I wanted you?” The words were intentionally cruel, as you were trying to preserve your own heart. John let out a groan as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Love please, it’s nae yer fault. It’s mine. Fuck, it’s all my fuckin’ fault. I made myself available tae ye. That is on me. I wasnae strong enough, I was selfish. I just— ye were right. I wanted tae feel loved. I wanted that feeling again that she gave me when we first met. I wanted tae cherish someone, and them me.” Lifting his head, he stared into your eyes, tears pricking into the corners of them. 

“And that was you, doll. You carved yer way into my bleedin’ heart in a way ye weren’t s’posed tae. It was only supposed tae be temporary. I never meant tae fall in love. And by the time I realised, I was in too deep. And I didnae have the heart tae tell ye.”

This time, it was you who breathed in sharply, heart thumping as you bit the inside of your cheeks, trying to fight your own tears that threatened to spill. 

“You can’t— I can’t—” Words clung to the lining of your throat, unable to make their way into your mouth as you let out a sob. The chair made a grating noise against the flooring as John pushed it back to kneel on the floor. 

“Please, love. Ye can tell me tae leave if you want. Tell me tae leave and never come back and I’d do it. But I need ye tae know that I love you. I have loved you fer so long. Loved ye in a way I didnae even know I could. I was scared of what it meant fer me, fer us.” He shuffled towards you, his hands gently caressing the backs of your calves as he dropped his head to rest against your knee. 

“I’ll do anything, hen. Anything fer ye, I swear. Yer the one that has mah heart, and I’ve suffered every moment being away from ye.” 

“Stop it. John, stop it.” You whispered, trying to push him back, trying to stay strong in the moment as he was on his knees begging and pleading for you to forgive him. 

“I’ve ended it. We’re done. She signed the papers immediately. We’ve been done fer so long, I was just too much of a coward tae face it with her.” Lifting his head up, his teary eyes met your own and you couldn’t help but feel your heart fight against your brain and better judgement to pull him into your arms and hold him tightly. 

“But I dinnae want tae be that same coward wit ye. Ye deserve better. I promise, I’ll give you every part of me. I’ll tell ye everythin’ ye wish tae know. I’ll keep nothing from ye, I swear doll. Ye have mah heart, my soul, I cannae live without ye. Please, love please. I need ye in my life. I love you.”

The grip on your legs tightened as he looked up at you, trying to read your expression as his words raced through your head, making you feel a myriad of emotions all at once. Your throat was dry, from the emotion, blood still pounding in your ears as you stared down at the man kneeling at your feet, his eyes hopeful as they bore into yours. 

Inwardly, you’d missed him, missed everything about the time you’d spent together and how he made you feel. He’d meant everything to you. But on the other side of the same coin, who’s to say he wouldn’t fall out of love with you, as he’d done with his former wife and leave you when he’d fallen out of love. 

Swallowing thickly, you cleared your throat, and his eyes widened, looking up at you expectantly as you gave him the answer you felt was right. 

For the Captain MacTavish lovers:

@soapsgf @brewed-pangolin @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @crashtestbunny

[eomayas]

(you’re not) my boyfriend • csc

pairing: non-idol!cheol x f!reader, situationship (yikes!),

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive (16+ fs)

synopsis: seungcheol is NOT your boyfriend!!! right? RIGHT?????

warnings: suggestive content, toxic!cheol, jealous!cheol, seungcheol is a smoker, arguing, miscommunication

a/n: luv toxic scoups. reader is messy boots!

joshua greets you with a hug and ushers you inside the house. “you look good,” he says, a smile on his face. you take a few steps ahead of him and do a 360, arms held out to the sides.

“i know, right,” you say, smirking at him and walking further into the house, towards commotion in the kitchen. shot glasses and liquor bottles, along with cans of beer and seltzers, litter the countertops. soonyoung and jeonghan cheers before each of them throw back a shot. “ooh, let me have one.” you say walking over to the two of them.

jeonghan wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grabs a bottle. “you look nice,” he compliments, eyeing you before pouring liquid into a glass and handing it over to you.

you smile at the compliment and throw back the shot. the compliments aren’t uncommon, nor are they unappreciated—sometimes you think they do it purposefully to piss off seungcheol, though you haven’t got enough evidence. but you do look good, just like you had intended, and you’re happy people notice.

the alcohol burns your throat and you scrunch your face up as it slides down your throat. “one more?” jeonghan asks, an amused grin on his face.

“definitely,” you say, bumping your hip into soonyoungs as a greeting. jeonghan pours you another shot, and just as you reach out to grab it, it’s plucked from his hand by somebody else. you smell him before you see him—cologne mixed with the faint smell of tobacco—and look up to glare at seungcheol as he drinks your shot, his eyes playful behind the glass. it makes you feel warm, and slightly giddy, despite the look on your face.

“you weren’t going to say hi?” he asks, setting the glass down on the counter. he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the surface, an eyebrow raised. the faint smell of cigarettes wafts through the room, suggesting that he just came back inside from having a smoke.

“of course i was,” you say, shifting nervously as he ogles you. his gaze is heavy and piercing—watchful—and makes you feel naked. he’s the only person you feel this way with, and you wish you didn’t. seungcheol definitely knows he makes you feel this way, and likes knowing this fact. it makes him feel powerful, and slightly possessive over you though he’d never say it out loud. it almost makes you forget other people are around because it’s like it’s just the two of you. “just wanted a shot first.” you say, clasping your hands in front of you cutely.

the corner of seungcheols lip quirks and you try to fight the smile that threatens to break out across your face. seungcheol reaches for you and pulls your towards him by your hips, his hand sliding to rest on your ass once your pulled flush against him. “hi,” he says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“hi, cheol,” you murmur, hands pressed flag against his firm chest. he peers down at you for a beat, a small smirk on his face. despite being nearly the same height as him in your heels, you still feel small under his gaze. seungcheol dips his head down towards you lips, and you meet him the rest of the way. you melt against him, hands slithering up his chest and loosely wrap around his neck.

the kiss in languid yet sensual, and his hand skating under your short skirt does nothing to keep your thoughts pure. but you push his hand away and pull back from his lips. “you do know that there are three other people in here, right?” you ask, yelping when he grabs a handful of your ass, right under your skirt. “stop it, cheol!” you squeal, slapping him on the chest and getting out of his grasp. he just smirks at you stupidly, and you wish you weren’t the teeniest bit turned on.

luckily, soonyoung chooses that moment to drunkenly call out to you to take a shot. “y/n, take a shot with me!” you happily slip out from seungcheols grip, flipping him off and sticking out your tongue when he flips you off because you’re leaving him alone.

you take the shot that is presented to you, and you and soonyoung hook your arms together and tip back your glasses. the liquid goes down smoother than the first shot, and you decide to take another, and another.

you’re tipsy by the time chan, seokmin, and mingyu arrive, and you greet them all with drunken hugs. everybody is crowded around the dining room table now, half empty cans everywhere. you rest your chin on joshua’s shoulder and hold onto his waist for support. his arm is draped around your hips, holding you upright so you don’t eat shit tripping over your feet.

a shot is slid across the table to you, and you grab it and cheers mingyu and seokmin. “you’ve had enough,” seungcheol says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and stealing your shot for the second time tonight. you whine at him as he drinks it instead, and tell seokmin to pour you another. “y/n, you can barely stand up.” he says, cutting his eyes at joshua and tugging you off of him and into his side instead, his face stern.

“you suck,” you grumble, cuddling into his side despite how you feel. seungcheol looks at you and raises his eyes, a challenging look one your face at your comment. “yeah, and i swallow, we know.” you say, beating him to his own punchline. rolling your eyes, you grab a random can of seltzer off the table.

seungcheol snickers and lets you take a sip of the drink before taking it out of your hands. “i’ll buy you drinks at the club, okay?” he says, finger kneading your hips. you wave him off and huff against him. “you’re such a child.” he mutters, chucking to himself and shaking his head.

“and you’re an ass,” you say. seungcheol snorts and you try pulling out of his grasp. “joshie, help.” you say, tugging on his arm. he turns, an amused look on his face. he flicks his eyes over to seungcheol and gives him a playful smile as he pulls you from seungcheol grasp and into his side again. “byeeee!” you say, singsong like to seungcheol, wiggling your fingers in a mock-wave at him.

seungcheol smiles, but there’s irritation behind his eyes. his nose twitches when joshua wraps his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your other hip as he pulls you in front of him. seungcheol technically has no reason to really feel upset because you’re not even his girlfriend. but you are his—whether that’s been discussed or not.

he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, snd grabs the bottle of vodka and shot glass, and pours one up. he downs it with encouragement from a few of his friends, and sighs. chan claps his hand on seungcheols shoulder. “hyung, it’ll be okay,” he says sincerely. seungcheol frowns and shrugs the younger man off of him.

“respectfully, chan, shut the fuck up,” he grumbles. you snap your attention to seungcheol, guffawing at his tone and choice of words to chan.

“be nice,” you say, hands resting atop joshua’s that are flat against your stomach. seungcheol glares at you, his eyes narrowing nearly to slits. you frown back at him and squirm in joshua’s hold as his eyes drag down your frame, his gaze lingering on where joshua has you pinned to him. seungcheol mutters something under his breath that you don’t hear. “what?”

“nothing,” he barks, chugging the rest of the seltzer and lightly crushing the can in his hand.

“freak,” you mutter to yourself, returning to your conversation with soonyoung and joshua.

“oh, the ubers are here,” jeonghan announces, shrugging on his jacket. everybody quickly drops what they’re doing to grab phones, wallets, jackets, and keys. joshua lets go of you to grab his things, and you stumble after soonyoung. you yelp when you trip, catching yourself on the wall as hands steady you by the waist.

“i told you,” seungcheol says, wrapping an arm securely around you waist as he leads you out of the front door.

“whatever.”

“the words you’re looking for are: thank you,” he says matter of factly. you roll your eyes and duck into the uber when he opens the door for you. he slides in after you, squishing you between his shoulders and soonyoungs. “god, i can’t move back here.” he mumbles, shifting so his back is pressing against the door.

seungcheol goes back to his previous brooding, and he’s silent most of the ride. you and soonyoung chat away, and when you laugh a little too hard and one of soonyoungs jokes and lean into him, seungcheol places a heavy hand on your leg. you ignore the gesture, but it’s like somebody poured hot wax down your spine.

you all arrive at the club, and immediately skip the line because their friend vernon is djing tonight. “you want a drink?” seungcheol asks, mouth on your ear and his arm wrapped tightly around you. the alcohol in your system keeps your nerves at bay and makes you relax in his hold.

you nod and turn to look at him, his lips dangerously close to your own. you flick your eyes down to his mouth, eyes lingering for a brief moment before you continue shuffling towards the crowded bar.

seungcheol orders drinks for the two of you much quicker than you would have if you were alone. you watch in awe as seungcheol gets the bartenders attention, leaning halfway over the counter to give the orders instead of yelling at him. his hand stays secured on the small of your back the entire time, tugging you closer when more people crowd the bar.

despite the cramped space and the many people shouting at the bartender over the music, your drinks come fairly quickly. seungcheol gives you yours and grabs ahold of your hand and leads you through the club to the section vernon got for his friends.

you follow seungcheol over to one of the couches. mingyu, chan, and jeonghan already sitting there. the four of them fall into conversation while you bob along to the music playing. you dont really chime in, because they’re talking about things you’re not interested in, but you’re getting bored. “cheol, i’m gonna go dance,” you say, gently shaking his shoulder.

“yeah, alright,” he says quickly, waving you off and going back to whatever mingyu was talking about. you roll your eyes and hop up, fixing your skirt before walking down to the dance floor. you really wanted to dance with him, and expected him to follow you down here but he didn’t, and you feel a bit silly being down here alone, not even with a friend. but you’re put at ease only a few minutes later, because you’re approached to dance with a handsome-enough stranger, and you accept, pulling him into the center of the dance floor.

seungcheol realizes you actually left much too late, and excuses himself to go find you. it’s much too crowded and too dark to really see you through the sea of bodies. seungcheol stands at the perimeter of the dance floor and scans the crowd, running a frustrated hand through his hair. he doesn’t know where you are, and when he does another sweep of the dance floor he spots joshua and is filled with mild relief. he starts to make his way over to his friend until he realizes the person he’s dancing with isn’t you like he thought it was. “damnit,” he mutters to himself.

taking a breath, seungcheol starts pushing through bodies, not caring about who he bumps into. his eyes flick from corner to corner in search of you. he is about to give up and start calling you until he notices a familiar figure swaying to the beat of the music. yeah, he’d recognize your ass anywhere, even in the dark.

the person behind you isn’t familiar, though, and his hands are roaming over your backside in such a way that lights a flame of jealousy in his chest. he watches the two of you like some voyeur, getting more and more pissed the longer her stands there. his hand involuntarily closes into a fist, and he comes to the conclusion that he needs a cigarette.

seungcheol is about to turn away, to let it go and smoke out his nerves until you straighten up against the man behind you, snaking an arm around his neck. his lips ghost over your neck and your jaw, and that’s when seungcheol snaps. he marches over to the two of you, his hand reaching out for the man’s shoulder and yanking him back without a care. “let’s go,” he says to you, mouth near your ear so you can clearly hear his words and his tone.

“what the fuck, man? do you have a boyfriend?” he shouts, his face screwed up in an incredulous expression.

just as you vehemently say “no!”, seungcheol shouts “yes!” and grabs onto your wrist and pulls you towards him. you frown up at him and yank yourself away from him, but the guys already walked off. “what were you doing?” seungcheol asks you, taking a step closer to you.

all you feel is anger and frustration. your hands are balled into fists, swinging at your sides. you try to speak, but you’re so pissed at him, for his behavior and his attitude. “what the fuck is your problem?”

seungcheol wipes around his mouth and takes a step back from you. “have a smoke with me,” he says, nodding his head towards the back of the club. you stare at him, jaw clenched tight. after a moment, you scoff and push past him, fighting. your way through the sea of people to get out of the dance floor. you’re fuming, practically running, despite having sore feet, to get out of the club and away from seungcheol.

rounding the corner to the designated smoking section outside of the club, you place your hands on your hips and pace back and forth. “what is wrong with you?” you bark, glaring over at seungcheol.

he slides a pack out of his jeans and pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. he takes his time putting it between his lips and cupping his hands around the end to light it, blowing out smoke upwards before answering you. “not a damn thing,” he grumbles, eyeing you.

there’s a breeze outside that would probably bother you if you weren’t keeping warm from anger and alcohol. “bullshit. you’re not my fucking boyfriend, seungcheol!” you cry, throwing your hands up.

“why were you about to kiss him? hmm?”

“i wasn’t about to kiss him!” but you’re actually not sure. his mouth wasn’t necessarily unwanted on your neck, and you were egging him on, leaning into him and tipping your head up. you don’t know what you were going to do if seungcheol hadn’t showed up and caused a scene. “but that doesn’t even matter because you are not my boyfriend.”

seungcheol holds the cigarette between his lips and squints at you, his head tilting to the side like he’s trying to figure you out, like you’re playing a joke on him and he’s waiting for cameras to pop out. “so you just go around flirting with and kissing on other dudes when i’m not around?” he questions, feeling like he needs another cigarette (he hasn’t even finished smoking this one).

scoffing, you shaking your head and begin pacing again. “you’re impossible. are you not listening to a word i’m saying?”

“i hear you; i know im not your boyfriend—got it. now answer my question,” he says, blowing out cigarette smoke. you glare at him, hands still on your hips. seungcheol can’t help it when he checks you out; you’re sexy even when you’re yelling at him—maybe even more.

rolling your eyes, you jut your left hip out, relieving the pressure on your feet. “so what if i do?” you snap. you’re only trying to piss him off, and by the looks of it, it’s working. he pulls the cigarette from his lips and shakes his head at you, scoffing with an irritated grin on his face. “why do you care? you are not my boyfriend!”

“jesus fucking christ, you’ve said that already! i fucking know that i’m not your boyfriend! can you talk about something else?” he spits. you scoff for the second time and mutter out a ‘fuck you’, crossing your arms over your chest.

you pace again, partly because you feel restless and partly because you’re starting to get cold. “goddamnit,” you groan, rubbing your hands against your arms to generate heat.

“what?” he barks, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and stomping on it with his toe.

“i’m cold, seungcheol, and my feet hurt—thank you for asking,” you’re just as snippy, tone full of sarcasm and your jaw tense. he rolls his eyes but shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to you. you narrow your eyes at him, dropping your gaze to his outstretched hand. his jacket is leather, and warm, and inviting, but you have almost too much pride to accept it.

“just take it,” he sighs, as if he read your mind, thrusting it at you. you bite the inside of your cheek and snatch it from him and pull it on. “are you done?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“are you? you are the one with a problem, not me,” you reply, looking at him pointedly. seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, lightly tugging. he runs his tongue over his teeth and sniffs once.

“you come to my house to flirt with my friends, then you come here with me, and leave me to go kiss other people. that’s my problem with you, y/n,” he damn near growls your name when he says it, and takes a few steps closer to you.

not backing down from him, you square yourself in front of him and squint. “you’re way too into my business for a man i’m not even dating,” you quip. his nose twitches and suddenly he’s all in your space, his face inches from yours.

“why would i even date you if this is how you act?” he spits. you glare at him, anger coursing through your veins like somebody just lit a match and set you aflame.

pushing up against him, your top lip curled and your hands balled into fists, you can’t stop yourself when you say, “if you act like this now, i can’t imagine what it would be like to really be yours.”

his nose bumps yours, his eyes inky black in the darkness of the night. your chest rises and falls quickly as he peers down at you. you don’t realize seungcheol has you cornered until you take a tentative step back away from him, and bump into the wall. that only urges him forward, his hips pressing against yours. “you’re already mine,” this time, he actually does growl and grabs you by the chin, pulling your mouth towards him in a messy kiss. your hands grip onto his shoulders as he presses you against the wall, his hand dropping from your jaw to your throat while the other grabs your thigh and hooks it around his waist.

gasping when his icy finger tips slip under your skirt , seungcheol shoves his tongue into your mouth and takes the hand that’s resting on your neck to cradle the back of your head. your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on the strands like you’re trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

his fingers dig into your plush thighs, his crotch pressing into your middle as he forces your legs up higher. he’s hard in his jeans, and you groan against his mouth. seungcheols finger skat higher up your tiny skirt, toying with the band of your thong at your hip. “cheol,” you gasp out, tugging his mouth away from yours by pulling at his hair. “not here.” you say, batting his hand out from under your skirt, but you don’t push his touch away completely and let it rest on your thigh.

he has half a mind to pull out his phone and call an uber, still pressed against you. he lightly pants and licks his lips as he jams his address into the app, selecting the first car that pops up despite it being $30. “this isn’t over,” he says to you, staring directly into your eyes.

oh, how you're glad it isn't.

[elaci]

Just Friends

Patrick and you are just friends, so he shouldn't get this jealous when you get sick of his games and decide you'll spend the night with Art instead.

cw; spitting, degradation, rough sex, choking, unprotected sex, creampies, ruined orgasms

Patrick Zweig x fem!reader | 18+ mdni — special s/o to the anons that helped imagine this up

It’s demeaning, really, the way Patrick Zweig watches you from the other side of the room. You can barely see him, shadows and party-store strobe lights displace his expression for seconds at a time, but when you do manage to hold his gaze long enough to make out the sharpness in it, your skin crawls. Through his eyes, you're no better than the last of his conquests.

You still like the heat of his hatred, though, especially when it's his best friend's lap you sit on. Art Donaldson has an arm around your waist, fingers dug into your side, the pressure light yet insistent. His face is flushed against your neck; lazy kisses pepper your throat. He wouldn't be marking you up for the world to bear witness if Art knew you belonged to Patrick first, but the brunette had insisted you were just friends, it was nothing more than a casual night or three. Now, he gets to watch as Art's free hand trails up the inside of your thigh, waging war against his urge to have you ride his fingers in the middle of the crowded living room.

Art's eyes are closed, lips wet against the expanse of your throat as he sucks a hickey into your skin-- your eyes are locked on Patrick's, who stands across the room, jaw clenched tight and hand wet with the spill of beer from his plastic cup. A sea of bodies act as the barrier between you two, dancing and grinding against each other in the same show of college-aged lust you're exhibiting with Art's hand trailing that little bit further up your thigh. You watch Patrick swallow and take a step back, ready to turn away, but something deep inside of you aches to be seen. You use a hand to lift Art's chin up so that you can plant your lips to his in a bruising kiss. Your blonde tryst responds eagerly, parting his lips, letting your tongue dart in to explore the seam of his mouth. His eyes flutter shut but yours stay open and stuck on Patrick, who doesn't blink as he watches you share spit with his best friend. He looks like a different man.

You pull away from Art slowly, dragging your teeth over Art's lip before leaning back in with purposeful abandon and you can almost swear you see him shudder in turn. One of his hands has slipped under your shirt palming your breast, his thumb rubbing a taut nipple through your bra. The contact makes you moan involuntarily, but it does nothing to distract you from the intense stare of Patrick Zweig who is still watching you. It takes all the restraint you possess not to look back, to ignore the piercing stare that could burn a hole right through the side of your skull. Instead, you give Art a soft but sultry smile and say, "I'll get us another drink, and then we can get out of here?"

"Sounds good," Art gives you a nod and takes his hand from under your shirt so you can stand from his lap. You eye the growing tent in his pants that he has to readjust to sit comfortably, and you smile as you turn to walk to the kitchen while Art follows you with his eyes.

You slip behind a corner into the kitchen where half-emptied bottles of nondescript booze and solo cups of mixers sit precariously along the countertops. You grab one of the bottles and two cups that you hope are clean and start to pour a drink for you and Art. You need this, a good orgasm or two to get your mind off of Patrick and his incessant proclamations of 'just being friends'. You'll fuck Art as a 'fuck you' to Patrick and move on to the next guy that won't make you cum half as well as either of them can. But the bottle is plucked from your hands, spilling over as it's placed down harshly and you're suddenly pressed against the edge of the countertop by someone much larger than yourself, their chest pressing against your upper back, crotch against your ass, arms boxing you in on either side.

This isn't Art; he's too coy for something this crude. This guy, who smells like cigarettes and a deodorant you've smelt too many times before, leans forward until his lips brush against your ear. His breath is hot, fanning your skin in ragged waves. Him. "So are you gonna fuck him?"

"Fuck you, Patrick. We're just friends," you parrot his own words back to him. Just friends, he had said whilst knuckles deep in your pussy, begging you to sit on his face only a moment later. Just fucking friends.

"That's what I thought," he exhales, and his voice is low, rough. You shiver, goosebumps prickling on your arms. The pressure of him on your back slackens and you twist, turning around only to find yourself still boxed in, but face to face with the source of your every wrongdoing, Patrick fucking Zweig. The grin pulling at his lips makes him appear predatory, almost feral. It's an animalistic thing; the look he gives you, hungry and angry and desperate. Like he wants to devour you in whole and spit you out just to taste you again. "Let me rephrase: have you fucked him already?"

No. "Yes." That answer comes quickly enough, even if it sounds a little pathetic in the face of Patrick's glazed eyes. Your hands rise of their own volition, landing on Patrick's chest and trying hopelessly to push him back. "Now get off me."

He doesn't budge, instead leaning in until you can feel his breath ghosting across your lips, noses bumping together lightly, "you're a fucking slut," he smiles, and you want to slap the grin off his face, want to claw into those beautiful eyes of his for looking at anyone but you. You hate him, you hate him with everything you have, you hate that your heart is slamming against your ribcage in response to his words. He's so close he can probably hear it, feel it, taste it on his lips and feel it in his hollowed bones.

You slip a hand from his chest down to the bulge of his jeans; he's hard, and you palm him through the coarse denim. "I'm the slut?" you bite, "what about you, Patrick, huh?" You squeeze him harder, feeling him twitch underneath your touch, "what are you then?"

One hand snaps from the countertop beside you to your throat, fingers digging in hard enough to start hurting. "I'm one minute away from fucking you stupid on this goddamn counter, that's what I am." When you don't dignify him with a word in response, he continues, lips barely an inch from yours. "You'd like that wouldn't you? You just won't fucking admit it."

You’re a moment away from spitting in his smug face when Patrick takes the hand against his crotch and uses it to pull you out of the kitchen in a swift but forceful motion. You trip over your own feet with the speed that he drags you, his grip unrelenting, but you’re able to glance into the living room as you pass to see Art talking to someone you don’t know. You try and get a look at your replacement, but Patrick is too fast, his grip on you only tightening as he takes you upstairs and starts checking doors for a room to push you into.

A chorus of “ooh la la” erupts when Patrick swings open a bathroom door to find a group of people smoking weed on the floor in front of the toilet. You could use a toke right about now. Patrick huffs a half-assed ‘sorry’ before pulling you to the next door and trying it- there's a click and before you can register his success, Patrick is pulling you into the empty bedroom and subsequently pushing you against the back of the door as it shuts. Your hand flies to the door handle in instinct, searching for a lock to turn and ensure your privacy, but it's futile when Patrick has a hand clamped over the handle to keep you from playing with it.

"Let someone walk in," he says. "Let them see just how fucking desperate you really are," he reaches a hand up and grabs your hair, yanking it backwards to expose more your neck. "Just how bad I wanna ruin you."

You slap him hard across the cheek. The sound reverberates through the room as Patrick turns his head only in the slightest to rub the sting away. Though his shock is short lived, he steps closer, forcing you back against the door until you hit the wall with no space left for retreat and he's pressing his lips to yours in retaliation, licking over and over at your bottom lip until you finally give up and kiss him back. This is worse than the stinging cheek of a slap, the wrung heart of knowing you want this more than a drunken clumsy night with Art Donaldson: you want the anger and the hurt and Patrick is kissing you like he loves you just to taunt you. To torment you for being weak enough to let him. For wanting the man that you hate to fuck you against the door. And you do. You want it so badly it hurts more than your ego.

"Fuck you," you speak against his lips.

His reply is a hand to your jaw, rough and mean and lifting your head so he can access the bites left behind by Art in the living room. He dips his head down and licks across every last mark his best friend had bitten into you, painting over Art's spit with his own, staking his claim like a dog with a bone. "Tell me to stop," he breathes out, mouth still glued to your throat.

"Fuck you."

You don't have time to think before Patrick is grabbing at the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down to pool around your ankles; your legs instinctively curl inwards to cover yourself but Patrick pushes your knees apart with both hands and lowers himself between your thighs. He pulls one of your legs up, rests it over his shoulder and looks up at you with darkness in his gaze. Though he's the one on his knees, you're the one at his mercy. His lips curve up at you again and he bites into the flesh of your inner thigh, making you hiss out a gasp at the sudden pain.

"Tell me to stop," he repeats in a growl.

"Fuck you," you spit in return.

"Say please."

Your eyes flutter shut in defeat. "Please."

"I told you," Patrick presses an almost sweet kiss to your clit, "that you're a fucking slut." He moves his tongue back and forth between your folds, and you let out a soft moan, your hips rolling instinctively forward to meet the invasion. You can't help it - you love his tongue, he knows that - you'd beg for it when you were sweeter on him but now... now, all you're capable of doing is arching your hips further into his mouth, hand flying down to the mess of curls atop his head in an attempt o pull him impossibly closer to you.

"Please, please, please..." Your hips thrust harder into his mouth with each syllable that leaves your lips, growing close to sweet release. Patrick moans softly and licks over the sensitive bundle of nerves buried within your folds. You pull hard at is hair, you hope it hurts, you need to be as close as physically possible to him, need it to connect you completely.

And then it happens. It happens in a cold second, one moment you're building to orgasm and the next you're feeling wipe his mouth and stand up with no orgasm from you to show for it. You don't move at first, frozen solid and waiting for something to happen. But nothing does, and when you realise he hasn't moved either you force your eyes open, squinting past the black dots dancing across your vision to find him staring at you with a wide smile.

"What the fuck, Zweig?" you demand, though it comes out more pleading than anything. Your voice cracks. It's embarrassing.

"Art wouldn't have made you cum either," he shrugs, an evil look on his face- you want to cry. You want to shoot your hand down and finish the job off yourself but you know Patrick would never let that happen; he nods to the bed against the wall. Some strangers bed; a full length mirror sits opposite it.

"Don't tell me this is some sick punishment." God, you wish he would stop smiling.

"Just get on the fucking bed."

“F—”

“Fuck me, yeah I know. Move your ass before I fuck that too.”

Your plain lust makes it difficult not to oblige, and you’re walking over to the edge of the bed and sitting down before you can register yourself doing so. The sheets are a dark blue and smell like detergent and dryer sheets, so the thought of fucking on a strangers dirty sheets are calmed as Patrick traipses towards you.

He lands between your legs, eyes darting down to look at your glistening cunt before taking in the rest of you. With a simple nod, he orders your top and bra off, and you’re naked before a ‘fuck you’ can leave your lips. Patrick remains fully clothed, but you think he likes that contrast, that aspect of control. You’re so cock-hungry you let it pass, because you can see the tent of his jeans and there’s little you wouldn’t do to be full of Patrick Zweig right now.

“Open your mouth,” he speaks down at you.

Your lips part, head tilted back ever so slightly as your tongue lolls out of your mouth. Patrick spits directly onto it, the very same saliva that had just mixed with the lust of your pussy now lace your tongue and spill down to your lips.

“Swallow.”

You do, Patrick loves the sight. So much, in fact, that he wastes no time in pulling you to your feet just to press a wet kiss to your lips, swap some more spit, and then turn you on your heels and push you face-down into the mattress of the poor soul who owns this bed. You land with a whine, and Patrick lands a spank to your ass in a silent order to get on your hands and knees for him.

You comply without even thinking, curling your body in the perfect angle to allow Patrick easier access to your aching entrance. Looking forward, you watch yourself in the mirror, a mess of everything you shouldn’t be doing, and Patrick: a mess of everything you should. He lines up behind you and moves to push inside of you, but his hips halt before he makes contact.

His eyes flit up to meet yours in the mirrors reflection. “I don’t want to ever see you with another guy like that. No one but me, you got it? You need to be fucked stupid to understand who you belong to? Sure thing. You need dates and kisses and to call me your fucking boyfriend so you don’t chase the next dick that’ll fill you up? Whatever. As long as it’s me.”

You nod. You want it. You don’t deserve it but you crave it.

Patrick slowly pushes himself into you until he’s fully seated inside you; you let out a groan as you adjust to the stretch of his size. You’ve never quite gotten used to how big he is. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation and he takes that as his cue to start moving. He pulls almost all of the way out of you, eyes stuck on the sight of his cock covered in you.

“Did you just ask me to be your girlfr—FUCK.”

Patrick slams his hips forward and you feel his entire length split you open on the spot. You cry out, loud, long and ragged breaths leaving your body as he begins to pound into your body again and again in quick succession. His hands grip your waist harshly, fingers digging deep into your flesh to make sure you stay in place on the bed.

When you finally do manage to relax, pleasure begins coursing through you like waves on the shores of some vacation beach you couldn’t name. Patrick takes your hair in one hand and continues his bruising grip on your waist with the other.

The repeated snapping of his hips against yours is brutal, skin against skin and sweat permeating the room's heat. With every thrust you’re pushed forward, your eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror. You’d lay your head down to rest against the sheets if Patrick wasn’t fisting your hair so tight, pulling your head up to stare at yourself getting wrecked on his cock.

He leans forward, chest pressing against your arched back, a harsh bite to your earlobe, and then the growling words— “could he fuck you stupid like this?”

“Yeah,” you manage, tone dripping with an aching need.

“Yeah?” Patrick loosens his grip on your hair and instead snakes his fingers around your neck, squeezing each side of your throat in such a way your head already feels light. He pulls you up, your back flush against his front as his cock still drills into you; he squeezes further. “Shut the fuck up.”

Patrick trails his hand from your neck to your bottom lip and slips two fingers inside your mouth as he fucks you. You’re full of him from both ends, tasting his fingers and taking his cock in its entirety like you were fucking made for it. There’s something about being taken apart so thoroughly that nearly pushes you over the edge of your climax, though it’s not until Patrick slips his hand, fingers wet with your spit now, down to your clit and starts rubbing it in quickened circles that you’re really melting into his touch.

It isn’t long until you lose your mind, legs trembling underneath the weight of such overbearing pleasure. Patrick’s the only reason you stay upright, holding you against hisself as his hips start stuttering and he falls over that same precipice you just did.

With one last hard thrust that near sends you delirious, he spills into you, filling you up so full with his seed that you already grieve the inevitable loss of it when he pulls out and insists on watching it leak from your pussy in a display of his hood on you.

For now, though, you revel in the haze of laboured breath and the warmth of his sweat-glossed chest against your back. You can feel his heart beating against your shoulder blades in a rapid drumming rhythm. You watch yourself in the mirror, plugged with Patrick’s cock as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder in turn— he’s never done that before.

“Did you mean it?” you ask through raspy breaths, barely above a whisper.

“That you’re a slut?” Patrick grins, biting over the spot he had just kissed, “yes.”

“That you want to be exclusive. More than ‘just friends’.”

“I just came inside of you, I’m still fucking inside of you. We aren’t just friends.”

His voice is thick and hoarse, you can hear the smile forming on his face in spite of his efforts to keep his expression blank. You want to say something more, tell him a million different things that should probably wait until he isn’t plugging you with his cum, but your thoughts are cut off by a heavy knock at the door and the call of your name.

It’s Art, and he’s turning the doorknob.

And his best friend is still balls deep inside of you.

[dustofthedailylife]

You were not supposed to hear that...yet

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh. 

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.” 

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness. 

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,”  Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together. 

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance. 

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you. 

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[erwinsvow]

⋆˚✿˖° part two of this ⋆˚✿˖°

the first time it had been tight shorts and an even tighter, cropped long sleeve. rafe had convinced you to stay back with him, murmuring in your ear about how no one else should get to see so much of you exposed like this. you’d fallen for it instantly, with big eyes and a sappy heart, realizing that you liked it when rafe was being overprotective like this.

the next few times hadn’t been as easy, like today. you had opted for skin-tight leggings—blue, like all your workout clothes were now, the pinks and yellows of the past swiftly replaced for your new favorite color—and a matching sports bra that made him want to lock you up in his bedroom. 

you’re filling up your water bottle in the kitchen and waiting for sarah, which is your usual routine. rafe knows this and always conveniently always wanders down there when you’re on your way out and his sister is taking too long with her hair in the bathroom. he has at least five minutes alone with you.

“what’d i say about going out like that?” 

you hold onto your bottle tight, not wanting to let it almost slip like last time. you smile automatically at the fact that he came to talk to you, but hide it before you turn, before he can see it.

“everyone wears stuff like this, rafe. it’s pilates.”

“ion know what that means.” he stalks closer, like last time, and you try to strengthen your resolve, “you gonna listen or are we gonna have a problem?” your face burns. you hope he doesn’t notice it.

“well, you’re not my boyfriend, so i don’t have to listen to you,” you say, sucking in a breath and trying to look rafe right in the eyes. it’s hard to not cave to his demands, but you know you’re right. you’re both silent for longer than you expected.

“is that so?” your knees suddenly feel weak, every logical fiber in your body shouting at you to not start something with rafe that you can’t finish. it takes everything in you not to set your bottle down on the counter and make your way back up to rafe’s bedroom. you fight the urge as hard as you can.

“m’just saying. if you were really my boyfriend i’d do what you say.” sarah comes down the stairs, and you use the chance to make your escape. when she’s out the door, you turn back quickly. “bye, rafe.”

your class is an hour, but getting a drink with sarah and your friends tacks on another thirty-minutes. when you finally come back to tannyhill, you’ve almost completely forgotten your interaction with rafe. you know he’s not serious about dating you, and it’s time for him to go back to just being sarah’s cute brother, and not your potential anything. 

you settle on the couch, wondering if you should even risk staying for dinner or just head back home now, when you hear sarah from the kitchen.

“what the hell is this?” you follow the sound, walking in to find flowers on the counter, pretty yellow flowers with a pink bow, and a card that says your name on it.

ignoring sarah’s words, you open it up, and in scribbled handwriting that you immediately recognize is a few words.

better start listening. rc.

[yanderenightmare]

How does Shiggy react to a darling who developed Stockholm Syndrome?

Shigaraki Tomura

TW: NSFW, captive darling, Stockholm Syndrome, ish benevolent sexism

fem reader

You kissed him a little while back.

It was strange, as though you’d forgotten yourself – lost yourself in the heat of the moment. But no, it had been deliberate and long-lasting – earnest and needy even. And had rendered him both speechless and in a panic.

He’d entered the room in a rigid mood and woken you up with a bite to your ass. Pulling your thighs snugly around him with his cock already swole between them – tugging your panties down your thighs while you were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. 

You’d learned rather quickly never to fight him. He’d punish you with bitemarks and no food, and ultimately you grew too weak to reject him anyway. So your casual acceptance wasn’t anything new where you patiently awaited getting fucked – lying on your back while looking down at his fat member disappearing inside you with only a tiny moan slipping free from your lips.

You took him obediently as you’d done for a while – without protest. The only difference occurred after he’d twisted the two of you around so you could straddle and ride him. You’d pressed your naked breasts into his chest and taken his face in your hands – gently as you rolled your hips without guidance – and then, right before the kiss, you’d said, so very softly, “I missed you today… it’s boring here without you~” 

Your voice was sultry, kissing him tender yet deeply – pouring sweet moans into his mouth while your hands tangled in his hair. 

You’d traveled to his neck after, and he came as soon as your tongue licked the scars found there – digging his fingers into the plush of your hips, keeping you seated as he spluttered all his worth inside you.

He’d been in such a state of post-shock that he’d rushed out just after. Leaving you.

Kurogiri had pointed out his blush while he sat at the bar, mulling it over with a bottle of brown in his grip. He shuddered, recurring the feeling – your pillowy wet lips on his, those words leaving your tongue, your hands playing with his hair, pulling him close. His chest felt tight, just as tight as the furrow between his brows.

Dabi sat down a couple of stools away sometime later in the night. Often, Shigaraki would abstain from engaging in conversation with the guy, but really, at least in this case, he was the best choice of any to ask for input. After all, they weren’t all that different. Actually, when it came to basics, they were both pretty similar – same-aged, ugly, and ridden with family issues from scars to fractured memories.

Dabi gave him a dumb look, his brow raised as though to ask what he was staring at after noticing his side-eye.

“You still have the same girl?” He jumped straight to it.

Dabi’s dumb expression turned dumber. Confused, maybe not so much by the question itself but by why the boss was even talking to him. But most emotions are like matches for Dabi, and they burn out before they’re able to light any fires. Soon, the usual sense of disinterest washed over him, and his face eased up into that chronic jaded look. 

Shigaraki nearly lost patience, reminded once again why he couldn’t stand the guy – rude as ever and so slow it made his skin itch. But then he gave his answer, “Yeah, I still have her.”

“She difficult?” Shigaraki followed up.

And Dabi took his time once again, hauling out the seconds before offering his answer in a drawl. “No, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in quickly.”

Shigaraki let it settle - Stockholm Syndrome – before looking back at his drink and repeating the thought once again. Stockholm Syndrome.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He mumbled then.

Dabi sighed, taking a swig of his beer. It was already the third one, but he’d only been sitting there for about half an hour. “Not really…” He disagreed. “Most girls are better survivors.”

It was Shigaraki’s turn to look dumb, looking puzzled as he stared down the barrel to his bottle – in wait of an explanation – almost as though he was under the impression it was the drink who was speaking and not the patch-faced raven-head sitting beside him.

“They learn quickly to accept what will keep them safe, and then, they find solace in whatever they can to maintain their mental health as well…” Said raven-haired guy continued – then he scoffed. “Boys fight until they break. Leaving them a shell of what they once were. But girls don’t have the same pride.”

He swirled his bottle, stove-top blue eyes lazy, looking at the last of his drink storm with waves inside the green glass.

“They leave themselves behind and become someone new.” He offered a dry chuckle, and Shigaraki spotted the unsightly way his staples only barely held the split of his smile together. “It’s actually kind of scary.” He finished before downing the last gulp, setting the bottle down with a bang.

He swung off his stool, shoving his hands down his pockets, and walked away – his back turned.

“If I were you, I’d embrace it, boss. Despite what we try to believe, that shit feels best when it’s given willingly.”

Shigaraki sat there a moment longer. Long enough to get cut off by Kurogiri, who told him drinking anymore would be a bad idea.

When he got back to the room, you were sleeping again.

He stood and stared at you for a moment. 

Was this a game you were playing? Was it a joke?

You’d pulled on one of his hoodies. And upon a closer look, you hadn’t showered either… 

Strange of you to leave his cum inside you... 

But thinking back about it, you hadn’t been so distant with him for a while already. You’d been trivial – conversational – even chirpy, if he could call it that.

Was it like Dabi said? Had you reached your breaking point for loneliness, leaving him to be your only resource? Or had you accepted the circumstances and willed yourself to play along? 

He didn’t know, but the doubt stormed an upset in his mind as he lifted the covers and laid down next to you. But despite the exhaustion, the lure of sleep still wasn’t enough to make him close his eyes – he was stuck staring at you, mapping out all those qualities that make up your pretty face.

So deep in his studies, he nearly flinched when your eyes fluttered open.

A small smile graced your lips soon after. “You’re back…” You murmured, eyes softly blinking at him before you scooched closer – shimmying yourself over to him until you were all the way up against his chest, nuzzling your head against his collar with sleepy sounds of comfort. Resting there for a blissful moment before purring out a sweet “Good night~”

But he couldn’t sleep that night. Too busy listening to your soft snores – feeling the clingy way you clutched his cotton T-shirt.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch you either. For a long while – it was as though he was… scared almost. Freaked out by your doting – that way you’d hug him when he entered through the door – placing kisses on places he wasn’t used to – his cheek, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles. 

Grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t go, Tomura…” You said once when he had his hand on the doorknob and the key halfway twisted in the lock. “Please… don’t leave.”

His throat went tight. It had been like that for a while – ever since that first kiss, actually, he’d been unable to talk to you – unsure what to say.

But you hadn’t the same issue.

“You haven't touched me in a while…” You continued, taking his hand away from the doorknob in both yours, playing with his fingers – bringing it up to your face – you cuddled it like he’d not threatened you with his touch many many many times before. “Are you bored with me?” You asked instead of the obvious, keeping him at a loss for words. “Or… have I scared you away?”

You? Scared him?

Your lips brushed his fingers as one of your hands made a slow descent – making him jerk with a gasp as it went straight to cup his groin – tender yet firm, giving it a squeeze.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” You said coyly, eyes doe-like but kittenish all the same, with a pouty and small smirk playing on your lips before you bit into them – brows cinching, giving him a flirty pleading expression. “Please, Tomura?” You said his name as though it didn’t belong to him. “It gets so lonely here…” You kissed his palm. “Won’t you give me a proper goodbye, at least?”

[leclerc-hs]

lucifer - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: you purposely try to make Charles jealous at a party which ultimately leads to some dirty consequences Warnings: SMUT, bad writing, curse words, 18+, choking, slapping, spitting Word Count: 1,657 Author's Note: this was a request from an anon 'Charles jealous and possessive please' that I wanted to make halloween related. Feel free to send more requests!!! Also I apologize for how dirty this might be. I was in a moooood.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"You are so in for it tonight," your best friend spoke into your ear with a small laugh. "You look hot. Charles' palm will be twitching once he see's you."

It was funny. How irrational the both of you became when the mixture of alcohol and other people were involved. 

You and Charles were not a couple, and the mere thought of dating him was utterly inconceivable at most times. He exuded an air of insufferable arrogance that grated on your every nerve. His incessant self-assuredness and overconfidence were more than enough to drive you to the brink of frustration.

But, the sex. Oh boy, the sex. It was as if pushing each other’s buttons was your own secret form of foreplay.

Your outfit was minimal to say the least. An angel. The innocence of your appearance was almost complete, aside from the subtle hint of revealed skin that added a touch of allure. A tiny white dress graced your form, its delicate lace fabric clinging to your figure. Attached were a pair of feathered wings that extended from your back, imparting an air of ethereal elegance. Completing the ensemble, a fluffy white halo, nestled on your head by a dainty headband, bestowed an angelic aura to your attire.

It was an outfit that sent looks your way for sure. Looks that you didn’t care about. There was only one pair of eyes you truly wanted to capture. But you wouldn’t let it be known. There’s no fun in that, right?

Though the night was still relatively young, your friend’s apartment was already deemed a mess. Plastic red cups and glass bottles scattered across most surfaces. The ever-shifting multicolored lights transitioning from crimson to rich purples cast a unique and enchanting ambiance throughout the room. 

You felt your thighs press together as the mere memory of the rough fuck from a few weeks ago slips into your mind. It was a pestering memory that reminded you just how much his jealousy ate at him. You wanted it. You needed it. 

You could feel him before you saw him. The burning gaze of his eyes lingering on you as you leaned against a wall talking to another guy. A guy, whose name you don’t quite remember, was cute. His humor had you in stitches, keeping you fully engrossed in his presence. The music reverberating against the walls made it hard to hear, resulting in the need to stand closer to one another. From an outsider, his proximity appeared intimate. Almost too intimate for Charles to bare the sight of. 

You weren’t flirting at first. At least you weren’t until that memory popped into your head a few minutes ago. You were merely testing the waters, curious to gauge how long it would take for him to crack.

“Do you want another drink?” The guy, who might’ve been named Daniel, leaned in closer so you could hear him over the music. His lips nearly brushing against your ear as he raised his voice. 

That seemingly was the last straw. Because before you could even answer, you felt a presence slightly to the left behind you. There was no need to even turn your head; the identity was unmistakable. The firm grip of his hands on your waist, pulling your back to his front, left no doubt on who it was.

“I got it from here,” He was short with his words, so assertive. Leaving little to no room for Daniel, you think that’s his name, to argue. There was no space for Daniel, or whatever his name might be, to push back. You couldn’t see the expression Charles wore, but it must have been far from pleasant, judging by Daniel’s hasty retreat. 

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to look at him. Or his costume. He was already guiding you down the apartment hallway, weaving through the crowds of people, and pushed you into the nearest bathroom. You heard a quick sound of the lock on the door. Much like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom was decked out for the occasion. Instead of its typical white-yellow lighting, crimson hues filled the space, casting an eerie sensuous glow. 

“It seems I still have to remind you who you belong to,” his voice was a low sultry murmur as his lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. In front of the mirror by the sink, his towering figure dwarfed yours. Finally, your eyes locked with his in the reflection, the intensity of the moment palpable. 

The irony of his outfit threatened to draw an unintended moan from your lips. A devil – the symbolism was anything but planned, completely coincidental. It was as if some silent alarm was blaring, one that everyone else seemed to hear, except for the two of you who were right in the thick of it. The connection between you was undeniable, transcending mere physical attraction, and it was clear as day to all the observers. 

His hands were relentless, firmly gripping your ass and thighs until you were panting. His touch was so tantalizing that even the lightest brush of his fingers left you dripping and needy for more.

“I didn’t know you were here,” you lied through your teeth. Charles elicited a mockery of laughter, his lips brushing your skin, as he pressed you firmly against the cool granite countertop. Goosebumps arose on your skin from the contrasting temperatures. Your skin burned with an intense heat, in stark contrast of the cold granite countertops. 

“You were too busy acting like a fucking slut to notice.” He sneered as he lifted the ends of your dress above your waist, revealing that you had been bare underneath all along.

You smirked back at him through the mirror, “couldn’t have panty lines now, could I?” A sharp slap echoed off the walls of the tiny bathroom as his hand collided with the skin of your ass. You were soaked already. Full of anticipation. You both were so full of need; Charles couldn’t even wait to pull his pants all the way off. 

“Such a fucking tease,” were the last words he said before slamming his cock into your entrance. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips as a powerful and sudden thrust rocked through you, causing you to place your trembling hands on the countertop to steady yourself. 

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Fucking hell. You’re so fucking tight poupée,” Doll. He sounded like he was in pain. “Squeezing my cock like the whore you are.” His hands gripped your hair as his hips snapped at a rapid pace into you.

“Who’s got you so hot and bothered tonight? Hm?” He starts. It seems as if you just can’t shut the fuck up tonight though. 

“Daniel.” You mutter the words with a smirk on your lips. Testing his patience, pushing the boundaries to see just how far you could go, a playful and daring challenge in the heat of the moment. 

He offered no words back. Just another hard slap to your skin. You shrieked from the burn of the slap, no doubt leaving your skin red. 

You gazed into the mirror, determined to etch this exact moment into your memory. One hand fisted your hair tightly as he pulled it back, the other groping your breast harshly. He continued to roll your nipples between his thumb and middle finger, pinching them just how you liked. The shadows of your feathered wings were visibly shaking with each thrust. It was so fucking hot to see.

“God, do you ever just shut the fuck up?” He muttered between each thrust. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the background, the whole apartment would’ve heard you. The room smelt of sweat as he worked into you harder. You could see his skin start to glisten under the red hues in the mirror. It was so erotic; you almost came right then and there.

"We all know its only my cock you want."

Charles was on the brink of insanity from the way you squeezed around him. Just relentlessly pounding into you that your hips will no doubt have bruises on them from the bathroom countertop.

With an intense, forceful pull on your hair, he tugged you upright, your back arching as your head tilted back, allowing you to gaze up at him, your eyes locking almost instantly.

“Please,” you begged. You were so close. Your pussy was growing sensitive with each thrust.

“Open,” He was so assertive. You surrendered. He spat directly into your mouth, and you swallowed without hesitation. His arm moved around, and his hand settled on the front of your neck, much like a piece of intimate jewelry. He applied just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge. 

“Look at you, hm?” Charles edged you on through your orgasm. “Such a fucking slut for my spit.” 

“Yes.” You couldn’t even deny it. You literally were. He pressed your face back down into the sink as he moved in quick pulses. It was as if each pump of his cock was claiming you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You swore you blacked out. You barely acknowledged the feeling of him pulling out and spilling himself all over your backside, rubbing the tip of himself around your skin. His strength held you in place, leaving you panting against the cool of the granite. 

He quickly cleaned you up, pressing a light kiss to your ass before pulling your dress back down. He gave two small pats to your butt as you stood up and faced him.

His thumbs slowly pressed under your eyes, wiping the dried tears and smudged mascara from under them away. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered lightly as you leaned the full weight of your head in the palms of his hands.

You felt a tug on your heart as your stomach did somersaults. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be no strings. 

You were completely wiped out. Almost limp in his arms from being freshly fucked. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He zipped his pants back up while you tried to manage your hair back to a semi-decent look. 

“Yes.”

——————————

soooo what do you guys think? please feel free to leave requests!!! I love new ideas xoxo

[yeyinde]

body electric | everyone x f!reader

It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever… had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there. 

(Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)

Simon, Price, Gaz, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy x f!Reader

⇾warnings: unfettered filth; gendered reader, gendered terminology, female!reader; oral—m&f receiving; unsafe sex; p-in-v sex, fingering; anal, rimming, anal fingering; this is a 6 man gangbang ummmmmmmm what more can i add? 

⇾notes: um. yeah. it is what it is and it is nasty.

thank you so much @moondirti for encouraging me to write this, and @sprout-fics and @guyfieriii for the juicy ideas (and full credit for the makeout sess with Rudy goes to @guyfieriii) 🖤

(@ tumblrstaff, please don't delete my blog for this)

also, thank u so much cod fandom. if this revokes my fandom license, just know that it's an absolute honour and privilege to go out into the way i came in—with nothing but filth. 

you only have yourselves to blame. and this person in particular 😭

It starts like this: 

Price, a little bruised around the edges, and worn from the helicopter, grumbles about needing a drink. Gaz, a little quieter than usual, a little subdued, nods firmly beside him. 

It's a spate—Shepherd, Graves—and the cumulation of it all leaves you feeling a little lour, a little out of it. Betrayal, death. You all reek of gunpowder and ichor. 

That may be why there is a palpable sense of relief when Alejandro and Rudy fish out some bottles stashed away in the kitchen. He holds two by the nozzle, hefts them in the air, and says:

Who wants some?

No one, not even Ghost, says no. 

It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever…, and things quickly devolved from there. 

That was then, before you knew how Price, Soap, Gaz Alejandro, and Rodolfo, liked to kiss. 

Price—rough, just like everything else about him; shades of smouldering tobacco leaves in the form of an unrelenting powerplay. He batters you into docility, leaves you feeling vapid and stupid by the time his hands rubs circles on the small of your back, the other holding your chin and leading you—always a leader, always—in whichever direction he wants. He's a thinly-veiled lesson in discipline. When you stray from his command, his fingers—thick, and bruising—are immediately there to reprimand you. He tastes like leather and smells like suede. His beard grazes your face until you feel a little sunburnt, a little dazed. He smells of low-grade motor oil and charred pinyon, and the musk of it makes you feel more intoxicated than the aged tequila on your tongue. 

His tongue curls over your teeth and the noises he lets out are rasping guttural growls. The kicking engine of a classic car that was left to idle for too long. An American muscle car, maybe. The whiplash bellow of a Hemi purring against your lips. A mustang, a Chevelle. Something drenched in masculinity and oozing authority. 

It's controlled. Blistering. He shifts your body around until you're tucked into the warm press of his chest. His hold is ironclad. No escape. 

It's Soap, then, something falling from his lips. My turn, maybe. But nothing is solid in the effervescent grey matter saturating your thoughts. You feel drunk with pink peppercorn and sweetgrass when it envelopes you from behind. 

His hands pull you away from Price, murmurs of soft words, things meant for a lover spill from his full pink lips. So pretty, hen; gonna make you feel so good. His eagerness shows he slots his pelvis to yours, and the hard, firm bulge of him nearly has you seeing stars. 

Soap lingers for a moment, fingers tracing the wet curve of your raw lips, chafed and irritated by the bristles of Price's beard. 

It wouldn't be wrong to call the way he touches the drying amalgam of yours and Price's—captain Price, superior, boss; untouchable—saliva obscene. It's filthy the way he grazes his finger under the curve of your lip, eyes honeycomb and wanting. 

"Wanna gimme a kiss, hen?"

When he asks you like that, soft and hushed, the ghost of his breath across your stinging lips, you can't say no. 

His mouth is molten on yours. He kisses you like he's starving for it. It's wet, and messy. Spittle drips down your chin when he shoves his tongue in your cavern, chasing your taste. Teeth clash, and your lips are pulled softly into his mouth until they swell, bruised and numbed. He only pulls away when you gasp, begging for air, grinning wickedly in the amber glow. 

You barely have a second to catch your breath before Gaz is there, hands firm on your ass, dragging you into him. 

Gaz peppers you in small, full kisses. Open mouth, teeth sinking into the plush bed of your bottom lip, suckling it into his mouth. Then he pulls away, leaves you dazed, and leaning forward, chasing the thrill of him. He huffs, hands sliding around the curve of your waist. Want it bad, eh? 

A tidal wave. A storm surge. They batter against you until you're drunk off the taste of them. An illicit elixir of sin. A tantalising tease of what's to come. 

Alejandro kisses you with unmatched finesse. Velvet soft sensuality that tastes of spiced clove and armoise. It starts slow. Just the press of his lips on yours. They lift into a grin, teeth sealed when you whimper and try to chase the santalum on his tongue. He laughs: a low, throaty chuckle, and wedges the tip between his teeth. A small taste, but not nearly enough to satiate you. You feel a little bit like you're floating in the clouds when his tongue finally fills the gap between your teeth; roiling over every inch of space he can find. 

You feel like a beached log—ruined by the gritty sand on the bottom of the seafloor, and spat back out into dry land. Covered in the taste of them all, you find yourself slipping off a steep precipice into a chasm you can't climb out of. 

It's Rodolfo, then, who grounds you. 

His hand is warm on your chin—a beacon of light in a dark tunnel. His lips are a balm to your irritated, bruised flesh. It's sweet. The taste of sweet Brachetto d'Acqui and hedgerow blossoms. He smells of golden copal and kisses you like he's pressing his lips to the hands of his Father; a baptism in soft skin and reverent touches that make you feel like you've been found. Its featherlight whispers of his lips across your skin: the corners of your mouth, the soft skin between your chin and lower lip. 

Hands on your waist, hot and heavy. Soap sinks his face in the space between your shoulder blades with a slow drawl of your name, teeth grazing your flesh. His stubble abrades your flesh until you're trembling in their embrace. Static shocks of pleasure bloom in the pits of your stomach. 

Rodolfo's head drops, murmured words spilling in hymnals as he nuzzles your neck. Soft, gentle. He puts you together again just to dissolve you into ashes from psalms. 

Gaz leaks grape cigarillos, and nag champa incense when he presses flush to your side. 

It's when he asks Alejandro if there's any oil, any lube, does it start to sink into your sun-warmed flesh that this is happening. It's real.

You could blame Gaz— never have I ever had a threesome or a gangbang —but the idea mushroomed inside of your head, sporous and damning, until it was all you could think about. you, of course, weren't immune to the sudden hush that fell over the group drinking near the table when you stammered out your answer: 

No, I've never had a threesome or a gangbang before.

It all happened so suddenly. The atmosphere was a rich, dense cloud of feverish energy buzzing around you; a miasma of hedonism in smoke and white musk. 

Price, then, behind you. Alejandro's barking laughter (no way, cariño, you're too beautiful to never have been fucked like that before). The way Soap's eyes gleamed in the light. Rudy's quiet shake of his head. Ghost's eyes liquifying: heavy, midnight oil on your skin. The sound of glass cracking when Gaz said:

Well, would you? 

Would I…? Silence. Poignant. Stifling. 

Would you ever have a gangbang? 

It spiralled from there. Gaz's words burrowing into your skin. His hands—are hot and heavy on your body. Soap dropping to his knees as he lifted your leg up on his shoulder, breathing deeply against your clothed cunt. 

Want to, hen? Wanna take all a'us? 

Alejandro's sharp breath. Might break her, hermano. Don't know about you, but I'm a big man.

Yeah, Price's mouth on yours, breath ghosting over your trembling lips. The scratch of his beard rubbing your skin until it was pink and flushed. Ain't the only one, mate. 

Lips searing into yours. Sensual rolls of his tongue from Alejandro, hands roaming across your back. A soft, sweet series of kisses that left you breathless from Rudy. Messy, almost hypoxia-inducing ones from Soap that made your head spin, and drool dripped down your chin, your neck, covering your chest. An intense, blistering assault by Gaz, his hand firm on the nape of your neck. 

It felt a little bit like a dream. Feverish and desperate. Tinged in the surrealism of being passed around like a prized trophy kissed after a well-won match. 

It feels like a cacoethes and carries the taste of Alejandro's tequila. Bad decisions made under terrible influence. 

And now—

Now:

There are hands on your body—many of them, in fact: Price holding the back of your knees up to your chest as he swipes his tongue over your aching cunt, lapping at your clit; Soap's on your nipples, pinching and tugging until you're mewling at the sharp pleasure-pain that ripples down your spine. Rodolfo stroking your face, murmuring in dulcet Spanish about how good you are, how pretty you look with your captain between your thighs. Alejandro's fingers ghosting over your torso, and trailing down to your throbbing clit when Price forces the thick of his tongue inside your quivering hole. 

It edges into overstimulation; you're equally aware of every single brush across your trembling flesh, and completely gone at the same time. Dissolved into liquid mush. 

And they haven't even really started yet. 

Gaz is gone somewhere in search of the petroleum jelly in the office upstairs. Ghost leans against the wall—not willing, you think, to partake but still here, still watching you spread out on the table where he dropped his mask for the first time as everyone touches you. 

"Fuck, cariño," Alejandro rasps, his finger pressing against your clit in tandem with Price's tongue fucking into the clutch of you. It's too much—his voice is heavy with sin and the heft of it makes you quake. "Bonita. You're so pretty like this, eh? All flushed pretty carmesí and aching for it." 

Rodolfo, Rudy he murmurs low in your ear when you whimper his name, chuckles. "She's stunning, eh, hermano."

"Fuckin' right," Soap breathes, his fingers drifting across your smeared lips. "You want this, aye, bonnie? Want us to fuck you silly?"

All you can do is moan brokenly around his hand, fingers rubbing across your tongue. 

"Where's Gaz?" Price grumbles into your cunt, beard grazing your inner thighs. "Wanna fuck this tight pussy already, love. Need to feel you around my cock—"

He punctuates his words with the tips of his blunt fingers, pushing two of them into your dripping hole. The sting makes you keen, makes your knees shake. You want to say too much, too sudden, but you can't speak around the three fingers shoved into your throat.

The look on your face makes Alejandro groan. "I want your mouth, cariño. Can I?" 

"Christ, hermano," Soap huffs, amused. Tone draped in sex. It makes your thighs quiver. "Ready to start, then?" 

"I am," Price grouses, nose flushed against your clit. "I've been thinkin' about this cunt for a long time, love."

They move in tandem. Seamless weaving with one singular goal of stuffing you full of all of them. 

Soap pulls his hand away, rubbing your slick over his flushed cock. 

You moan against Alejandro's cock when he presses it to the seal of your quivering mouth. His hand is firm on your head, but his eyes are gentle. He waits for you, holding still until you give him your affirmation to continue. The sight of his flushed, tanned cock makes you whimper. He smells of sin: oud and myrrh; heady and thick. Your head swims with the way it clots in your lungs.  

Your mouth aparts, tongue rolling out over the weeping head of his cock. It's salty. Brinny. You moan a little when it slides deeper into your mouth. 

"Jesus—," Soap pants, rough and slurred. The noise jars into you. 

Hands fall over you again, and you lose track of who is touching you when Price groans into your cunt, and Alejandro pushes your jaw open wider, sliding more of his cock into your mouth. 

The air buzzes with something bordering on frenetic. Pent up energy from the success of the mission, the alcohol spuming in your veins. The high of the win burns through everyone. 

This—a gangbang —would never have happened if it wasn't somehow the perfect storm, the coalescence of all the right emotions. 

It's intense. Surreal. 

And then Alejandro pitches his hips forward with a smoked groan, murmurs:

"Fuck, gonna cum, cariño. Are you gonna swallow it for me?"

A hushed silence falls around you. It's one thing to attend, but another to partake, and you wonder if they are realising that this is the point of no return. 

It's met with a soft moan. 

You want it. Want his cum. Want to taste more of that salty haar tang in your throat, feel it settle in the pit of your belly. Hot and syrupy thick. 

He pitches his hips forward, hand sliding up the length of his cock not buried in your throat, stroking himself as you suckle on his head. It's sloppy, and wet, and fuck —

Alejandro is the first to cum. The first to spill his milky release on your tongue. It's salty, briny. Not at all dissimilar to the margaritas he handed you hours ago.

His moan is choked and hoarse, a low bellow in the depths of his belly that rumbles through you in a series of deep uh, uh, uhs. 

You barely have time to swallow when Rudy is there. Hands on your cheek, eyes lidded and pleading. Can I, cariño? 

Alejandro's cum spills from your tongue when he pulls away, dribbling down your chin, neck. It puddles on your chest where Soap's thumb catches the droplets, smearing them around your hard nipples. 

You nod, swallowing down the mouthful of cum, brows furrowed in pleasure with each roll of Price's tongue laving at your cunt; the gentle way Soap kneads your flesh. 

Rudy shuffles closer, and the flavour of cardamom spumes around you. His body burns hot, heavy cock twitching in his grip. Your mouth drops, tongue lulling out, and he grunts at the sight, eyes cresting. 

"You're beautiful, mi Reina."

Rudy's cock brushes across your tongue, eyes shuddering when you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back in pleasure. "Fuck…"

Your tongue laves over his slit, tasting the salty spill of him. His breath is ragged, heavy. There is no warning—just a strangled choke of your name—and then he's cumming on your tongue, ropes spurting over your cheeks and chin. 

You gasp, wet and broken, and absolutely filthy. 

"That's it—," Price mumbles against you, blowing a huff of air across your slit. It makes your toes curl—the perfect mix of not enough and too much, and—

Rudy strokes your hair, eyes glazed. The angle is awkward, but his mouth slots over yours, tongue rubbing over the mess they made of you. He kisses you like he's worshipping you. Like you're the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he can't get enough. 

There is a blunt pressure against your core. A delicious coil inside of you unspooling. 

Price has three fingers buried to the knuckle inside of you, tongue rolling over your clit, when you cum around him, knees shaking as you moan at the tight clutch of your walls stretched taut. 

"Fuck," Soap breathes, taking Rudy's place when he pulls away from you, lips red and glossy. He pushes his blunt head against your cheek. Cum spurts out, splattering across your face in thick milky ropes. "That's what you sound like when you cum? Jesus—"

You barely have time to catch your breath when Price lifts his head, beard soaked in your slick. Heat pools in your belly again at the sight. He looks like ruin. Wet and dark, and hungry. You whimper when he rubs the scuff of his damp beard over your spread pussy. Coarse hair grazes your clit, and the spark of pleasure has you seeing double. Makes liquid bliss bloom in your chest. 

"Couldn't wait, eh, cap?" Gaz returns with a wink, waving the bottle of jelly in his hands when he moves into your periphery. 

"Can it, and get over here." 

"Impatient."

Price helps you sit up, mouth stinging, and sticky with cum and saliva. His eyes catch in the dimming light high in the rafts. Drunken desire spools in the shades of sapphire blue. His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth. 

"Might have to see you like this more often, love."

"Shooting your shot already, cap?" Gaz drawls, humour lacing in his tone. 

"Not my fault you waited too long."

"You're lucky," Alejandro rumbles. Firm hands fall to your shoulders, rubbing the knots in your back until your head falls, forehead pressed to Price's chest with a moan. "Should stay here, cariño. I'll make you happy. Get you nice and fat on Mexican food, and swollen with mis hijos e hijas."

"Sí," Rudy's lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering saccharine words in Spanish. "We'll live on the farm. Drinking wine every day. I'll take you to the coast."

You shudder, belly spuming with heat. Overwhelmed, dizzy. It's a dangerous elixir. A deadly combination. It makes you want, yearn. 

"No way," Soap huffs. "She's comin' home with us. Back to the UK where she can sit on my cock whenever she wants—"

"You're all wrong," Gaz scoffs. "Price called dibs the moment—"

"That's enough." His command is rough, dry. 

Gaz glances at you, and the humour shifts. Darkens. "Fuck, look what they did to you already." 

You feel it, thick and viscous, on your burning skin. The flush deepens. You can only imagine what you look like. Your lashes are clumped together, and heavy. Cheeks irritated from the beard burn and the saline smear of cum over your flesh. Swollen, cock-bruised lips. Messy in voluptuary pearlescent. 

"You look good," Soap says, taut, and slightly breathless. 

They stare at you like you're a banquet—a feast. Your heart thuds in your chest, cum-filled belly rolling. Its—

Powerful. Sensual. 

Price's eyes flutter when he leans over you, hands feverish when they fall on your skin. "Gotta move you, now, love. That alright?"

You swallow and taste the ocean. The sea. "Y—yeah."

He shudders. A frisson flurries across his face. "Good."

His hands are solid on your body as they manoeuvre you until your belly is flushed to the table, panting against the damp fabric beneath you. He presses his cock against your ass, letting you feel the iron-hard, velvety soft heat of him. You push your hips back, cunt throbbing. You want it. Want his cock. Want him to fill you up until you're stuffed and fat, and—

Happy, Alejandro said. Happy. 

"Soon, love," his voice is a thunderclap in a bottle. You tremble when the balmy heat of him moves away from you, leaving you spread and exposed. 

"Fuck," Gaz murmurs. His hand trails down your spine, fingers slipping between the crease of your ass. 

He spoke to you about it already. Five of us. Wanna—he licked his lips, eyes hooded and caramel rich—wanna let me fuck your ass?

In for a penny. 

Gaz shushes you when you whimper, mouth ghosting over the soft flesh of your ass. He wastes no time. His fingers dig into your cheeks, spreading them open. You mewl. Your body is electrified: too much, too soon, too raw—too exposed; but Gaz groans deep in his throat. 

"Fuck, look at you." 

He doesn't give you a moment; doesn't waver even when Soap tells him to move away so they can see. There is no preamble. His tongue laves over your asshole, a filthy grunt spilling from his lips as he tastes your flesh.

"Steamin' Jesus, Gaz," Soap groans. Slick noises can be heard behind you. "Fuckin' Christ—"

It's strange. The sensation is heightened by the awareness that everyone—everyone—is watching Gaz devour your ass like it's the best meal he's had in weeks. You quiver, dropping your head into the table. Price stands by your side, cock jerking each time you moan. 

His hand on your head is a comfort. A heavy weight. Your hips rock back into Gaz's tongue, keening when it slips into your hole. It doesn't hurt, but there's an insistent pressure as he stretches you open. 

A cold, slick finger joins soon after, and the ache makes you choke. 

"S'alright, love," Price murmurs, and your lachrymose eyes blink open, gritty and sticky, and dart to him. His hand tightens around the base of his cock. Your cunt throbs at the sight. "Focus on me, yeah?"

"C—captain—"

The rawness in your voice makes him groan. Makes them groan. You can hear Alejandro swear. Soap grunt. More slick noises reverberate around you, and you flush. Cheeks burning. They're getting themselves off to this. To Gaz fingering your tight asshole open for their cocks. Another hole for them to slip inside. 

Fuck, fuck fuck—

"That's it," Price coos, low and smoky, and filled with rough tobacco. 

His hand threads through your hair as Soap's roam your body, slipping beneath your chest and the table, punching your nipples, stroking your belly. Rudy, or maybe Alejandro—you can't see, can't tell—tap on your clit as two fingers are pushed back into your throbbing cunt. 

You want them. Want it. 

"P—please—"

Price groans, his cock spitting out prespend that dribbles down the length of him. "I want you to suck my cock, love. Will you do that for me?" 

You nod, core quivering as a rush of heat flutters down to the base of your spine. You still taste Alejandro, Rudy, on your tongue. 

You wonder if Price tastes just as good.

Price helps you move, and angles his cock toward you, grunting when your wet, sloppy mouth seals over the head. 

He tastes even better. Salty and bitter. Tobacco ash and smoke. You want to drown in it. 

Gaz stretches your ass as you swallow your captain's cock, and your head still spins with that notion, not quite able to believe you're on your knees for them, spread open, and being readied for all of them that take. 

It cudgels into your stomach: a gnarling frisson that makes throb, makes you push back onto Gaz's fingers, his tongue, and moan around Price's cock. 

"That enough, Gaz?" He sounds wrecked when he speaks. Ashes and gasoline; it's saturated in want. The air crackles with impatience. 

His tongue slides across your fluttering hole in a long, wet stripe, as if savouring the taste of you before he pulls back. 

"Yeah—," it's wet when it slurs out of him. His fingers press against your loose hole, moaning a little when you greedily take the tips inside. "Fuck, she's more than ready, cap."

Price wastes no time. He pulls you off of him, and the others—all communicating in a series of strange commands you can't decipher through the rush in your head—all make room for him. 

He turns you around, and lifts you onto the table, legs spread around the thick of him. His cock throbs against your pussy when you wiggle back, trying to get comfortable on the bed of masks—Ghost's masks—and it hits you, now, that you're going to get fucked. That your pussy and your ass have been stretched, prepped, and are ready for them. All of them. 

He stares down at you, nostrils flaring, and the dark look in his molten sapphire gaze makes you wonder if he feels it, too. If it's hitting him with just as much of a punch as it is you. 

His cock nudges against your hole. He pauses, eyes flickering up from the seal of your cunt around his flushed, engorged head, to confirm, one last time, if you want this. If you're sure.

It's debauched and absolutely filthy, but—your hand reaches out when Soap steps up, cock bobbing with each step, and you grasp his shaft. Alejandro's fingers ghost over your bruised, swollen mouth, and you let him lead your head to his throbbing cock, lips sealing over the leaking head. 

Rudy's hands are reverent when he takes your other hand, bringing it to his length. 

It's all the confirmation he needs, but still. Price waits. Your heart thunders in your chest. Your captain—always so—

The thought is nipped when you nod around Alejandro, and he pushes inside of your pussy. Stretching your cunt with his girth. You moan, legs falling open wider as he splits you apart. 

It's good. It's too much. It's—

He feeds it into you, lips curled up in a snarl as you split around him. He grunts—rasping growls that spool inside of your core until you're white-hot, and whimpering. 

"Come on, love," is rucked from his throat. A battering ram against your chest swinging hard, and ferocious until you see stars. "You can take me."

It makes you tremble. Makes the world around you grind together; tectonic plates shifting, crashing. Earthquake tremors along the base of your spine, rattling your bones. It cracks them open, and leaks Nirvana through your bloodstream. 

Price's cock wrenches you open. Each inch jarring the soporific slurry of sex and smoke congealing heavy in your veins until you're mewling around Alejandro's cock. 

His groans of pleasure as resin thick; smouldering sandalwood. Cracking sap. He works himself inside of you, gruff praises falling from his still-damp lips. You feel good. This pretty cunt was made to get ruined, wasn't it? Take me, love. That's it. They slide over your skin, oud oil and syrup thick, until your flesh prickles with goosebumps. 

Alejandro's cock hits the gummy walls of your throat, his grunt curls over you. Clove and amber. You burn. There is a give, and then—

His hips slide against yours, cunt stuffed to the brim with his cock. Tears leak down your cheeks at the feeling of him sitting so heavy inside of you, at the blunt press of Alejandro's cock choking you in shallow thrusts. 

"Bloody hell—," he groans, head tipping back as he stares at the seal of your pussy taut around the base. "Look'it you. So full of cock. You look like you were made for this, pretty thing."

"Our little slut, eh?" Alejandro huffs, pushing his hips closer to your face as you lap at him. "If her pussy feels as good as her mouth, hermano, I won't last too long."

"Fuck, can't wait to fuck you next," Soap grunts, his hand wrapping around yours as he guides you along, showing you what he likes. "Cannae fuckin—"

Rudy's hand falls to your swaying chest, rubbing your aching nipples as Price begins to fuck you, filling you up over and over again with his fat cock. 

It's good. It's so fucking good. You whine around Alejandro, and feel molten pleasure bloom in your belly as they use you, revere you; eyes fixed on your body as you take them all in. 

"I'm gonna cum soon," Price grunts, his hips pistoning into you hard enough to jar the table. The metal legs grind against the cement floor. The room filled with the scent of sex and the lewd noises that spill from the wet squelch of your cunt greedily swallowing down your captain's cock. The suckling sound of Alejandro fucking your throat. "Look at you, look at this pretty fucking cunt taking me—"

Soap's fingers fall to your clit as Price hits the plug of your womb with the blunt head of his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting down your spine until you're arching off the table. Muscles coil, tightening together as he knocks into the soft walls of your pussy, sending you reeling. 

"Ah, fuck—," Alejandro grunts. "I'm gonna cum, cariño. You'll swallow it for me, eh? Swallow it all—fuck—"

He cums down your throat for the second time, hands stroking your face as he feeds it to you with muttered words in slurred Spanish too fast for you to pick up.

You can't focus. Can't think—

The taste of cum on your tongue, the blissed noses that spill around you, and the way Price fucks you deep, battering against your fluttering walls have you seeing stars. 

You moan, nearly choking on the thick cum that drenches you. Soap leans down, spits on your clit, and rubs the mess in with his fingers. It's feral. It's disgusting—

Your cunt spasms as you're shoved over the precipice, squeezing and throbbing like a heartbeat around the thick plug of Price's cock as he spears it against your womb; a battering ram into your flesh. 

"Jesus, captain," Soap sounds awed, voice pitched low and slurred. "Just givin' it to her, aye?"

"Fuckin' hell—"

He cums inside of you with a grunt of your name draped in liquid sin. Cock twitching deep inside of you, pressed taut to your womb. He holds it there and makes you take it. Drowns your cunt in his thick cum. 

It's wet between your thighs. Your throat clicks when you swallow, nose burning from the flood of briny cum Alejandro poured down your throat. 

Price pulls out slowly, taps the head of his sticky cock against your clit, and you flush at the feeling of him leaking out of you. 

There is no respite. Gaz's hands are on your body, head numb and fuzzy, as they speak about the intricacies of fucking you, of filling you up. 

"Think she's ready for two?"

"Are you?" Soap's fingers fall to your aching cunt, spreading the thick cum around your clit. "Can you take us both?"

"No. Not yet." It's Ghost who speaks, and your belly rolls at the low husk of his voice. 

"Yeah, give her one more." 

Soap's fingers slip into your cunt, and curl against your sensitive walls. "Fuck, captain. You filled her up good."

Rudy's thumb presses against the seam of your mouth, eyes pleading when he stares down at you. His thick cock grasped in his hand. 

You're little more than a ragdoll. An offering between the gods. Soap parts your thighs, head tapping against your throbbing cunt. 

Price leans against a beam close by, eyes burning into you in search of any glimmer of distress. Having him close by calms you. Makes you relax. You settle, mouth popping open for Rudy as Soap pushes himself into your pussy. 

"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible—"

He lets out a string of curses in rapid-fire Scots, burying the full length of himself into your cunt. 

He fucks you like he's aching for it. A madman. His hips bludgeon into you until you're seeing stars, until you're choking around Rudy's cock. It's too much. Too much—

You want more. 

Rudy's hands are gentle on your face, brushing your hair away as he cants his hips. His cock slides over your tongue, and you try to hollow your cheeks, to make it good for him, but the blistering pleasure makes your mouth fall open. 

"It's okay, bonita." He murmurs, resting his head on your tongue as he fists the length of himself. "Just like this, okay? Just like this. Let me—," he fucks into his palm, eyes rolling back as he rubs his weeping slit over your tongue. 

Gaz's hand grabs your swaying breasts in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck your ass next, yeah? Gonna split your little hole open on my cock. You don't want, don't you? Wanna be fucked in all holes, like a little whore."

Fuck. Fuck—

Rudy pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning as molten cum sputters out, drenching your tongue and cheeks. 

"Oh, fuck—," Soap pants, hips slamming into you. His eyes are fixed on your messy face. "You look so fuckin' pretty with cum all over you, so fuckin' good for us, aye?"

His eyes snap shut, brow furrowed in pleasure as he buries the full length of himself inside of your spasming pussy, filling you with another load of cum. 

It's good. It's so good. The sensation of hands on your body isn't foreign anymore. Alejandro moves when Rudy finishes, stroking your hair, and leaning down to kiss your forehead. You go to him eagerly, mouth parting as he slips his softened cock into your mouth. 

Words are murmured around you, grunts and groans of pleasure so robust and full that you clench, aching at the sound of their bliss. 

Fingers on your nipples, your clit, makes you see white. Makes your back arch as liquid pleasure blooms inside your core again. 

Soap pulls out, and you barely have time to mourn the loss of him when Gaz slots between your legs, fingers falling to your ass, and slipping inside with a groan. 

"Nice and loose, now," he purrs, spreading his fingers inside your tight channel. "Gonna fuck this pretty asshole. Gonna fucking ruin you. Alejandro's gonna fuck your pussy after, eh? Maybe me and Price can fill you up at the same time, huh?"

"Gaz," his name is drenched in smoke, a shuddering rumble that stabs tight into your core when Price speaks. Your cunt throbs at the thought. "If you don't hurry up—"

"Alright, alright, cap." 

Rudy's behind you at the head of the table, hands roaming over your skin, smearing cum all over your flesh. He murmurs low, sweet words in Spanish you can't hear over the roaring in your ears when Gaz spreads your legs, cock nudging against your virgin hole. It's comforting, though. His presence is solid. Your hands grip his forearms, whining at the sting, the blunt pressure pushing into you. 

Soap groans. You can hear his voice to your left along with slick sounds of him touching his spent cock. 

"That's so fuckin' hot. Steamin' fucking Jesus—"

You're relaxed enough that Gaz slips inside without much of a burn. It feels strange: a heavy pressure, a slight sting. You're prepared enough that it's more foreign, and uncomfortable than it is painful. But it's—

Full.  

You moan when his hips buck shallowly, pushing more of him into your asshole. It's weird. It's strange. It's—

"How does it feel, love?"

Price's fingers fall on your throbbing clit. Alejandro's—you think, maybe; you can't see through the blurred tears in your eyes—push into your sopping cunt, groaning wetly at the lewd squelch of the cum inside of you. 

"It's—"

Belly full. A pressure unlike anything you'd felt before. Snug, and tight, and—

"Good," you whimper, arching your back. Your nipples are tugged. Pussy stuffed with three of Alejandro's fingers. Ass full of Gaz when he finally, finally, bottoms out with a moan. "It's so good—"

He fucks you slow, steady. Savouring the tight clench of you around him. 

Price works your clit, murmuring about how good you are. How pretty you look, full of cum and getting your ass stuffed with cock. 

"You were made for this, weren't you? Little cockslut."

It punches the air from your lungs when he hisses it into your ear. 

Gaz pushes the length of himself inside your ass, moaning about how tight you are. How he can't wait to fill you up. His hands fall, sliding over your ass cheeks until he brushes over the rim of your stretched hole, hips stuttering. 

"God," he chokes. "Fuck, you look good."

"Yeah, she does," Soap breathes, hands palming at your body, rough and hot and tacky with his release. They glide up the length of your body, pressing into your swollen mouth. "Open up for me."

His fingers taste of pennies when he pushes them against your tongue, stroking over your flesh. He thrusts them in tandem to the rolls of Gaz's cock splitting you deeply. It's a filthy crescendo of moans, grunts, the sloppy wet sound of your gummy mouth being fucked by three of Soap's fingers, and the lewd, fleshy snap of Gaz's pelvis and thighs slapping against yours. 

Rudy strokes your hair, pushing the tangled mess of it out of your eyes, and murmurs about how good you're being. The soft praise prickles over you like the warm glow from an altar candle. The heat makes your eyes burn, stinging with tears, and you take what they give you, and try not to get lost in the rapture of their flesh staining your skin. 

Price's finger pushes against your sensitive clit. Rudy's soft voice permeates around like burning incense. The heavy weight, the foreign slide, of Gaz stretching your channel makes you keen low in your throat, muffled by the messy drag of Soap's knuckles on the roof of your mouth. 

You cum again, shuddering from the billowing pleasure blanketing you from all sides, and fall into the embrace of Rudy's arms. Price's hands are a plinth on your hips, keeping you up, keeping you grounded, and Gaz works himself to completion, scorched words of bliss spilling from gritted teeth.

Soap leans down, tongue catching the mess spilling from your gaping mouth. Alejandro rubs your fluttering walls. It's intense. Overwhelming. You're surrounded by a dense smog of pleasure and musk: clove cigarettes, bayberry, oakmoss, and the thick tang of a wet, loam and humus forest. 

The drawling moan Gaz lets out makes your core ache. He buries himself deep, hips glued to the plush seam of your ass, and he spills deep inside of you. 

"Joder, cariño, you look good with your ass stuffed, eh?"

You can't speak around Soap's fingers. The only noise that spills is a sloppy, wet moan. 

Gaz presses kisses into your spine, slowly, slowly, pulling out of your ass. 

"Yeah, she does." He slurs, rubbing his chin over the small of your back. "Who's next?" 

Everything blurs into a fever dream of hands and tongues, and the delicious stretch of your cunt, your ass, as they stuff you full of them. Filthy words are whispered into your temple as they grow bolder with your body. 

Price gets you off just by slapping his palm over your clit until you clench around Rudy's cock. Soap licks up your tears, fingers pressed as far down your throat as he can get them, and murmurs how sexy you look full of cum. How he can't get enough of your tight cunt and pretty little hole.

You were made for them, Alejandro whispers, and pulls your hips down until you're seated on his cock. The blunt head of Rudy's cock soon presses to your wet asshole, bottoming out with a deep groan. His hands are reverent as they run across your flesh, choked whimpers falling out about how fucking stunning you look when you're stuffed to the brim. 

You sob between them as they share a messy kiss over your shoulder, grunting into each other's mouths as they ruin you. 

Gaz and Price drag you away soon after they finish, petting your messy hair away from your sticky, sweaty forehead, and splitting you apart between them. You scream into Price's chest as he holds the fat of your ass cheeks open for Gaz to rut into like a man starved for it. Possessed. He coos in your ear when Soap shoves his cock into your gaping mouth, choking you on the thick of him. So fucking good, love. Meant for this. After we'll run you a bath and you sit on my cock while I clean you up, hmm? 

You feel a little stripped down to the marrow, pulverised under their wanting hands; when Price presses into your womb, and cums again. The molten spume inside soothes the throbbing ache of your core. A debauched balm to a raw wound. 

It would be a lie to say you hate the way it feels to be so full of them. To have their taste in your tongue, sticking to the back of your throat, pooling in your belly, your pussy, your guts. You're full and sore and you feel like one massive contusion—broken and battered and barely clinging to sentience—when his cock slips free with a wet squelch. 

It's a little surreal, but—

Comfortable. It shouldn't be. It should be weird, and awkward, and—

Fuck. You had sex with five men in the span of several hours. Your teammates, your captain, no less. And yet. 

Yet:

You feel full in a way you'd never been before. Satiated and stupidly fucking happy. 

Price snorts when you lay back on the floor, a blissed-out smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

"Liked it, did you?"

You don't have the capacity for speech. Words escape you. They can't seep through the salty mess in your throat. 

Instead, you moan—low and needy—and feel your belly quiver when Price's eyes flash. Smoke and embers. And when Alejandro groans aloud. When Rudy's hand trembles on your skin. When Soap's hand falls to his spent, softened cock, unable to stop the thrum of desire when you sound like you had the best meal in years. When Gaz shivers, and says please tell me we can play this game more often. 

It's good. It's—

Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.

Then: "decide to join in, after all, Lt?"

Ghost's hands are hot on your sensitive flesh.

He says nothing as he crouches down on the floor where Gaz and Price dragged you, but his eyes are liquid when he stares at the mess of you. Drenched, you're sure, in cum; it leaks down your chin, out of your sensitive, raw pussy, and your aching hole. Doused in their pleasure, and burning from the sting of their ardour. 

"Fuck, Lt," Soap murmurs, dazed. He'd spent himself on your face only moments ago, and when your glassy eyes fall to him, you find him staring fixed at the apex of your thighs where Ghost slots himself between. "You're gonna ruin her—"

You don't know what he means until you look back. The air in your lungs catches, eyes widening. He's huge. Fat and throbbing, prespend leaks down the absurd length of himself. It twitches when he catches you staring at him, sticky, numbed mouth dropping open. 

"S—sir—"

His hand slides, fists the base of himself. He taps the head of his cock against your quivering, sloppy cunt. "Can you take me, pet?"

Shit. Shit—

You don't think you can, not at all, but—

Slick noises around you. Grunts of pleasure. Murmured words. They want to see you split apart on his cock. Stuffed full. Your belly lurches. Heat simmers inside of you once again. 

Your trembling eyes find his, and you lay back against the floor, knees parting. Inviting. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. 

"Fill me up, sir—"

He snarls. 

Ghost doesn't wait. Doesn't touch you with softness, or reverence. His hands are branding, white-hot, when they fall to your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest. His eyes are glued to the messy seam of your cunt, spilling viscous cum down your ass until it pools below you in a puddle. 

You're wrecked. Ruined. You'd had all of them inside of you—your mouth, your pussy, your ass—except him, and your belly flips, head a muddled slurry of want, want, want as the fat head of his cock slips over the milky mess, catching on your ruined, red hole.

"Thought you got lost, Ghost," Alejandro says, words carrying secrets you can't make sense of. 

"Never." 

He pushes the mushroomed head into your cunt, rumbling at the give of your body as you part for him, sucking him in deep. Ghost fills you up until your belly bulges with the length of him. 

Soap moans at the sight. At the way you take the massive cock burrowing deep inside of you. 

They all seem to be enjoying the way he ruins you. Over the heft of his shoulder, the thick bracket of his arms, you see them all staring at the way he wrecks you. Batters your body with wet, sloppy noises spilling out. 

He fucks you slow: long, deep plunges into your core, gaze sliding in increments to your face, slack and tacky with lashes clumped together with an amalgamation of spittle and cum, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root. It's intense. Dizzying. 

You feel pushed past your breaking point: overarching beyond the mettle until you're a raw nerve exposed to the corrosive chemicals in the air. Split apart and reassembled into something new and vulnerable. You're chafed and aching, and it edges on painful, and blistering like a third-degree burn being rubbed against rough wool. But despite the sting, the graze still feels good when it itches over your inflamed skin. A balm that burns before it soothes. 

Ghost—Simon, now, you suppose since he's currently eight inches deep inside of your sore cunt—seems to somehow know. Maybe it's the hoarse crackle in your throat when he hits you deeply, or the exhausted droop of your eyes when he presses his weight against you, filling you up until he sits heavy in your chest, but he takes pity on your poor, battered body bursting with the molasses thick heft of euphoria that congeals inside of your marrow. His thrusts are punctured by the soft way he gazes at you. A physical weight to his stare slams into your chest with each roll of his hips, nudging you back to that steep precipice you'd dropped from so many times you'd lost count. 

The dance is familiar. 

But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't. 

"Fuck, Lt. Can see you bulging through her belly." 

Soaps words are met with a rasping snarl, a brutal piston of his cock into your gummy, wrung-out walls. A hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure has phosphenes burning your eyelids when they snap shut at the heavy mist of pleasure that falls on you. 

You don't think you can cum again. Your head is a slurry of intense pleasure: gummy and stupid on the way they fucked the sense out of you. Synopses misfire. You feel like you're barely cognisant anymore. 

It's not good enough, though. 

His fingers find your clit, pressing against the tender nub until you're bucking against him, trying to get away from the agonising euphoria pounding through your core. 

"I want to feel you cum on my cock, pet." 

You can't—

You really can't. But he doesn't relent. He shoves himself into your quivering cunt until you see stars flash across your eyes, and the scent of nirvana permeates in the air. 

If you won't go willingly to the vertiginous edge, he'll drag you there instead.

A sharp thrust has your mind whiting out; the overstuffed feeling of being stretched to the brim sits heavy in your core. Your nails press into his shoulders, desperate to hang on to something tangible, real. They dig deeper until the moons flood with blood. It makes him groan—deep, low; rucked coals over open flames—and the noise has you reaching for Orion with your bare hands, mouth dropped low to catch the cosmic dust that permeates in the air between you. 

"Fuck—" a sharp whimper has him huffing into your neck, a satisfied noise he can't bite off, can't stifle. 

He likes it. Likes spreading you open, and watching you squirm. Likes the flash of pain that flickers across your face when he first kisses your drenched core with the fat head of his cock. Eyes wide, fixed on the scrunch of your brow, the wrinkles in your nose, the deep, punctured gasps that spill from your gaping mouth—he misses nothing, stare branding you.

It's the thick of him when it splits you apart, breaks you in half, that really captures his full attention. Stuffed to the brim, and clawing at him for respite from the way he fits inside of you; he takes it all in. Eyes never wavering. Liquid want flooding the bottom ring of his lower eyelids, a molten pool half hidden behind his lash line. He gazes down at you, fans of ash cresting over. 

And then when he bottoms out, when his cock is fully seated inside of your body that struggles to make room to fit him, he lifts his gaze. A perfect polynya. He stares at you, then, watching—almost placidly, impassively—as you grit your teeth from the burn of taking him to the root. A slow roll of his hips to test your mettle; a harsh grind of his cock nestled taut against the plug of your womb. It has you singing. 

A test of the water. A battering of the futile clutch you have over your sangfroid. He won't start until it breaks. Until it shatters. 

His hands are hot when they grasp the soft skin behind your knees, pointing them down toward your swaying chest as he fucks you open in deep, almost languid cants of his hips until you're grabbing at the ground, and mewling his name. Broken, now, by his cock. 

Simon is a storm. 

A gale. He ravages you until you're dizzy with the brutal way he takes you—and takes, takes, takes —and begging for mercy. 

None comes. 

You can't barter with a typhoon. Can't make deals with a hurricane. 

It hits. Breaching your shores with enough force to ruin. 

"Simon," it is whispered low, constricted. The air in your lungs is liquifying; condensation builds until you're choking. 

Another huff. He thrusts harder, head notching into something that has you lurching forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder. You spasm around him until he growls in your ear. 

His thighs widen, pitching his hips low as fucks into you, a touch savage. Your leg slips from his hold, the back pressed against the muscles of his beneath you. The coarse hair of his legs tickles your flesh. Goosebumps erupt. You shiver. 

The breath you gasp in is wispy, and thin. It isn't enough to quench the ache in your chest, but nor is it enough to truly let you slip into the throes of hypoxia. He brings you to the brink, lets you gaze over the edge of that unknown abyss, but refuses to let you any further. His grip is unyielding. It burrows into you. 

Like this, with black moulting over your vision and phosphenes glimmering in the cosmic yonder that stretches out in front of you, you can feel everything. There is a startling clarity that rocks through you. You can feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he slams it into you, prying your walls open as he steals all the air from your lungs.

"Shit—"

He cums with a grunt that sounds like it was dragged through barbed wire. Liquid pleasure blooms when you feel him twitch inside of you, and all you can do is cling to his massive shoulders as he rides you through the throes of bliss battering into your core. 

Eyes drink you in: wide in the pale moonlight that spills from the window, cut at the bridge of his nose by the mask, jowls snapping at you. He's bathed entirely in black; drenched in tenebrose. A Stygian being looming over you, taking its wares from the tight clutch of your body, and forcing the air from your lungs until it's filled with the scent of him, and nothing more. 

"You look good like this," he murmurs, eyes fever red and cosmic black. "Fuckin' hell, pet. You were made to be fucked, weren't you?" 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the gruff sin leaking from behind his mask. 

"Yes," you whimper, voice shredded and wrecked. He's not the only one who groans at the sound of you, ruined and aching. "Fuck, I love your cocks—"

It feels like the end. Like you'd been spat out on the wrong side of a tornado, and thrust into a battle you weren't, entirely, prepared for. 

But you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor in the middle of a burning no man's land. 

You can hear them around you. Price stroking your hair, and whispering about how good you were. Gaz and Soap huffing with exhausted laughter that sounds a touch delirious, as if they still couldn't quite wrap their heads around the act they were buried balls deep inside of you mere moments ago. 

Alejandro and Rudy mutter to each other in blistered Spanish. You hear the clink of bottles as they toast each other over a victory, and a fucking gangbang. 

They take turns touching you. Caring for you. Rudy makes you drink water, eyes melted chocolate—glossy and sleek with the remnants of pleasure. Aqui. He says, pressing the cool bottle to your sweat-slicked forehead. Aquas. Drink up, mi corazón. 

Alejandro supports your shoulders when you struggle to sit up and take a sip. Gaz has a towel pressed to your cheeks, cleaning up the flaking mess of dried cum and sweat. Soap's hands clench yours tight when the bottle shakes in your grasp. Price is there to hold it steady. 

Ghost hasn't taken his eyes off of you once since this started. You meet his stare, gloaming light shading everything in gold. He tips his chin. A promise in the obsidian cut of his eyes. 

Thought you got lost, Ghost—

Gaz huffs. Gems shatter. Crushed into shards that sit in the palm of your hand, waiting to be reassembled. 

(Someday, you think.)

"Best game of never have I ever, ever." 

 

  "So….," Soap slurs, cheeks pink and eyes swimming with incipient desire. "Round two?"