#why the fuck did they make him son of Hook??

[beetlesanbutterflies]

Back on my movie Hort has two dads and a mom shit.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#394

This is a direct follow up to story Story #387 and Story #389.

“Come sit between my legs….  So you are Tim Stone’s fag son.  Sit….  No no.  Don’t ease down.  I want you to sit like you don’t have a gigantic plug in your cunt.  Get up and sit back down hard….

“That’s better.  I should have looked at your plug first.  Get up and bend over.  Let me see it….  Damn, Lloyd really loves his big plugs. 

“Go ahead and sit back down.  And sit down normally….  Damn looks like you are in pain.  Aww that’s too bad.  Shut up with the groaning.  It makes it hard to enjoy my scotch.  Here take my glass and go refresh it.  Yeah, get up.

“…I see Lloyd has one of his pecker cages on you.  Bryce has asked me to take it off for tomorrow.  He has a lot planned for you on his return. 

“I go for the Macallan.  It’s a tall bottle that’s wider on top and narrower at the base.  Put two ice cubes in first, then fill it up to where the second cube is covered.  And bring me my shirt.

“…No don’t sit yet.  That cage needs to come off.  Reach into my shirt pocket and get the key out….

“Give it to me and present your pecker to me.  I don’t know why Lloyd loves these things.  It denies a perfectly good punishment tool.  Look at these balls.  One good smack… like that, and it sends a message to the fag.  I can get the same reaction if I were to swat your pecker.

“Have a seat.  Here comes my boy.

“Hey boy.  Did you give the paperwork to Master Lloyd?  Good.  So, this is the new faggot.

“Hey faggot.  This is my boy.  Both of you are at the bottom of the slave hierarchy, but know this, he outranks you.  He craves being treated the lowest of lows, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.  But he outranks you.

“Boy, did Master Lloyd plug you?...  Let me see.

“Fuck that’s hot.  Faggot, stand next to boy then bend over in his same position.  I want to see those two plugged cunts side-by-side….  Fuck!  You two are pretty.  Nice plump asses with a large plug shoved into your cunts.  What’s nice about these plugs are they are made with a hook in the base that allows weights or chains to be secured to.

“Let’s have some fun.  Go inside to the playroom. 

“…Interesting.  You two are the exact same size, although boy has a plumper ass.

“Faggot, has Lloyd said anything about your hair?...  No?  I’m surprised.

“Boy, when I am done, you will remain here and shave faggot free of every hair on his body below his nose.  Leave his eyebrows and lashes.  Clip the hair on his head to a number 2 guard.  You know I can’t stand hairdos on a slave.

“Here’s a good enough spot.  I want you both to get on all fours facing away from each other….  Back into each other so those cunt plugs touch.

“Good.  Now move a few inches away from the other.  Like that.

“Ok faggots, I have a three-foot heavy chain here.  I have attached it to each of your cunt plugs.  It’s simple.  It’s a tug-o-war.  Your goal is to pull the plug out of the other’s cunt.  Loser gets beat.  I got this new belt over in Munich and I’m interested in trying it out on some slave skin.

“Go!

“Fuck yeah!  The other reason why I love these plugs Lloyd chose is because they are narrow at the base and very fat.  So you are finding out that they are difficult… and painful… to pull out against your will.

“Work harder!  Pull you mother fuckers!  Pull! 

“No, no faggot!  Get that hand away from that table leg.  You can’t reach for anything. 

“…What the fuck are you doing faggot?  Your collar is shocking you?  Too bad.  It wasn’t me.  You keep forgetting that one of us can shock your collar at any time.  They probably saw you on the closed live video feed trying to cheat. 

“AM I RIGHT?

“I’ll take that second jolt to your collar as a yes.

“Oh look at what you did.  You were too fucking focused on being shocked that you relaxed your cunt.  Boy wins.

“Jesus!  Look at that gape!  Faggot, stick your cunt up high.  Boy, pull his cheeks apart.  I want whoever is watching to see. 

“…Well that shock to the collar is telling me they like it.

“It’s going to look good for tomorrow.

“Boy!  I know you want in there.  You have one minute.  And while you are in there, shit out your plug.

“Faggot, my boy is eating your gape not as a reward to you, but rather for him.  For some reason, the boy likes eating out gaping holes. 

“No, you are going to get the punishment you deserve.  We need you welted up as well.

“…And here’s the tiny little device I was looking for.  Haven’t used one of these in a while. 

“Ok slaves.  Get up and stand here.  Facing each other.  Real close.  Why don’t the two of you start kissing each other?  Get those tongues going.  Put your arms around each other’s waist and pull in.  I want your crotches to be smashed into each other….  Like that.

“Both of you hold still.  Keep in mind I have both your ball sacks and their contents in my hand.  Don’t pull back or they will all be yanked off.  You got that?

“…Faggot, did you hear what my boy said?  He said, ‘Sir! Yes Sir!’  I better start hearing that coming from you.  You understand?...  That’s better. 

“I have just put your ball sacks and the useless nuts they carry into the same ball cuff.  It’s designed to only have one set secured.  There’s no way for a single ball to get through.  You two are attached to each other.  Don’t fall because you will rip both sets of balls off.

“Get back to French kissing each other.  This clip will connect your collars together and keep you in that kissing pose.

“Now don’t fall.  No matter where the belt will strike, you want to remain standing.  And I’m going to be aiming for the flesh in front of me.  I don’t care where it lands or even who.

“Let’s begin.  Got you both!  Scream into each other’s mouth.  Oh yeah.  That’s it; save yourself by twisting the other into the strike. 

“Keep those hands away!  Damn!  This is fun….  Fag!  That’s going to leave one hell of a welt.

“Hands up!

“…Well that was close.  You two almost took a tumble. 

“Let’s do this.  Put your hands above your head.  Point your wrist cuffs inward….

“…Almost got it.  There!  You two are now secured to that winch.  And with a few button pushes, you are stretched high and standing on your tip toes.

“Wow.  That looks hot…. 

“…With your bodies stretched like that, it’s going to hurt even more!  Fuck that is going to be one nasty welt on your back faggot.

“You are going to be covered head-to-toe in welts by the time Bryce returns.  You’ll be shaved smooth with a slave haircut.  Your cunt is going to be one giant gape.  He’s going to love seeing the mess that you have become.

“Oh yes, our own CEO is going to play with you next.  And he’s bringing a guest.  Yup, your dad is going to see his son for the first time in weeks.  Despite what Lloyd told you early on in order to get you to agree to submit to us, your dad was never told about how big the pain pig piss drinking sperm burping fag you are. I can't wait to see his reaction.

“You are going to need a lot more welts though.  Fuck yeah!  A lot more welts.”

This story continues in Story #400

[krakenartificer]

Who wants a really sad Leverage headcanon?

Was re-watching the Gimme a K Street Job -- Season 5 Episode 5 -- and a couple of things stood out to me.

1) Nate says "Let's go steal some congresspeople", and then sends everyone on the team (except Parker, who's being a cheer coach) out to con one of their targets. But it feels like there's a profound mismatch in who gets which mark.

For the "not like other girls" feminist congresswoman who's inclined to dismiss cheer as worthless and demeaning, you need Eliot to come in looking like a man who very much knows what does and does not count as a sport, and be his tiny angry respect-women-juice self about how regardless of what you think of their choice of clothing they are working as hard as any other athlete and they deserve safety as much as anyone else. But instead they sent Hardison.

For the "Yes I am very busy and important; admire me" chairman, you need Sophie, who is better than anyone else on the planet at making you feel admirable when you're doing what she wants, and scummy and low when you're not doing what she wants. But instead they sent Eliot.

For the "Look I am trying, but I need corn subsidies or I won't be able to do anything else" newbie congressman, Hardison could happily have gone on an infinitely recurring series of fetch quests until he sees the place where they loop around and bottom out and every problem solves every other problem. But instead they sent Sophie.

2) Eliot struggles the most, so Nate works with him the most, but he doesn't help him out hardly at all; he just keeps saying, "So what's your next play?" and then revealing that he's already anticipated Eliot's next play and has all the materials in place to enact it. And of course, they do eventually get the dude on board, and it all works out, but afterwards, Eliot tells Nate, "I trust that some time soon you'll tell me why you had me slogging through all that when you already knew how to hook him."

And of course, knowing what we now know about how season 5 ends, it makes sense that Nate is trying to train the OT3 to work without him, looking for his replacement.

Except.

If the plan is to fuck off into the sunset with Sophie, then why did he throw Sophie into this uncomfortable not-my-wheelhouse scenario?

No, Nate's preparing the entire team to carry on without him. He's forcing them to learn how to plan, learn different ways of approaching problems, to think about bigger pictures and approach them strategically.

...

I think Nate just got the first diagnosis of the disease that's finally going to kill him. And again, we -- the audience -- now know that he's going to live for many years after that initial diagnosis. But he doesn't know that, at this point. He knows he's tested positive, and he knows it's eventually going to kill him, and he has no idea how long he has.

And in some sense, it doesn't matter how long he has. Three months or thirty years, that kind of revelation makes it stunningly clear that taking care of the people you love means making sure that they can take care of themselves.

So that's what he does: he throws them into new, uncomfortable situations where they'll have to grow and support each other without him, so that no matter what happens, they'll be able to keep going. Because he's not a nice person, Jimmy Ford's son, but by God does he know the importance of protecting your family.

[unsuredreamer]

I will always love you

Chloe Charming 💙 x fem! reader

requested! but i changed a bit

i feel like it's kinda shit, but you can let me know whatcha think!

"Look at them honey, they are perfect for each other. Just like us" Charming calmly exhaled. The both of them, along with your parents admiring how you and your best friend of the whole universe danced together. Two 8 year olds just holding hands and spinning around, hugging, trying to make up new steps.

"We can try to this song! My momma and dad always sing it" Little Chloe yelled trying to find the right rythm to their newest invention of a dance.

"What is it, Chlo?" You yelled in excitement still holding her hand. There was a whole party thrown for your birthday but you didn't want to dance with anyone else. This little girl and her blue dress seemed to be enough for you. Not even the biggest cake with lots of frosting would make you as excited as being told you'll see your favorite girl again.

"So it goes like, mhmh-wait I don't remember. Mommy!" She swiftly ran off, you right after her.

"Yes babygirl?"

"Could you sing that one song you sing with daddy? I want to dance with Y/n. You always say it's special, i want to dance with her to it. Make it special too!" The little girl grinned, her storm of blue locks forbidding her from seeing anything, making her throw them to the side every now and then.

"So this is love?" Cinderella hummed, giggling in the process.

"Yes! Yes! That one!"

As Ella continued humming the rest of the parents could not help themselves to not be in awe at the sight before them. You both truly were soulmates, platonic or not, there's no denying it.

-

"Fuck you! Why are you so rude to me?" Chloe yelled

"Well I wouldn't have to be if you weren't a stuck up princess all the god damn time!"

"I am a stuck up princess..?"

"Chloe no I-. Fuck!"

-

"Hey little bluey girl right here, you're looking really good today, wanna hang after school?" The other son of Hook, Thomas, has appeared before your 'friend' holding her chin up with his piece of rusted metal. It was not gold, let's not fool anyone. And it certainly did not pass down on him his fathers charms. Only this horrible accent of his.

What would that douchebag want from her? You thought watching from afar. Your blood boiling hot at the sight. Glaring daggers, you thought of all the ways to kill him. He doesn't seem to want to let go. Hitting on the poor girl since the begging of the year. Despite the desperate attempts of Red trying to scare him off.

"I'm sorry, I'm actually quite busy, I was.." The charming princess stopped and looked at her friend for help.

"Supposed to help me...with something" Red butt in sensing her friends pleads.

"It's alright I can help too, so what are we doing?" The bloke grinned not letting go

"It's girly stuff so we'd rather-"

"Well, I've been round women my whole life babygirl, so i believe i should know a thing or two" His grin getting bigger. What a shithead. Take a hint bro.

"I mean, It's-It will be-I"

"All good blu, I know you want me there" He winked getting closer to her. She was looking rather uncomfortably, slowly backing off. He was atrocious, she would never want to do anything with him. Would she?

Even if she was to be paid for it, she'd never wish to look at him. Chloe's eyes squeezed shut at the growing feeling in her stomach. Her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

"Hey back off bro" You claimed, right on time, pushing him away from almost kissing the princess of Cinderellasburg. Standing in between him and the girl he was basically harassing. You felt her hand find it's way to yours, squeezing it tightly. Her breath shaky on your neck, you felt the anger burst out of you like a volcano.

"Becauseee what?" He smirked, coming even closer "I'm just trying to flirt with my girl here" His eyes wandered around your body settling on Chloe's, her hand squeezing yours even tighter. As much as if cutting the blood flow from your limb was intentional.

"She's my girlfriend, so you better back off little shrimp before I gut you out just like my father did yours" You threatened, showing him your sharp canines in a fearful smile. They were all that was left after this little bibbidi bobbidy boo the young fairy godmother accidentally performed on you when you went back in time with the girls. She was not the brightest fairy back then let's say.

-

"Bibbidi bobbidy boo! OH! I'm so sorry!" Fay yelled "I'm gonna fix this, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Don't! You've done too much, leave it" You growled looking at yourself, full of fur with sharp claws sticking out.

"You look rather cute as a wolf!" Bridget butt in, smiling from ear to ear. Petting your back.

"Shut up!" You yelled, shrugging her hand off "I'm a beast not a wolf"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say man" Ella snarled "I mean girl, sorry"

"Yeah, fuck off" You stormed out of the building glaring at anyone you saw on your way, your dear friend running after you. She wanted to help you, tell you you were not bad, and actually kind of nice looking as a beast. Maybe even give you a few belly rubs to make you finally smile " Go away Chloe"

"But Y/n, you-"

" I said go away!" You roared, scaring the poor girl. You did not want her to look at you in that state. You were a monster.

-

"Geez, you're crazy. But don't worry I won't take your owner, dog" Thomas laughed after his annoying bark walking away.

"Fucking dumbass" Red snickered under her breath, raising her eyebrow

"Thank you Y/n, really" Chloe smiled warmly

"All good" You just muttered coldly. Usually you'd be more harsh to the Charming princess, to Red, your brother, basically everyone. But you felt the anger slowly falter.

You began to act like that around your fourteenth birthday. Something happened to ypu and you hadn't quite known yourelf what happened. To make you feel so much anger. To make you act so heartless, cold, to be so harsh and truthful to the point it hurts others. It was like a switch in you, being played with for months and left on the side that made everything turn dark. Deep down you dont want to be that way, you know it. But it's like a shell has began to form around your heart, your skin getting ten times thicker forbidding your true character out int the broad daylight.

Were you cursed?

You did not want to be that way with Chloe, she was the dearest to you. But you've already hurt her so much. It made your heavy with guilt heart ache.

Why couldn't you look in her eyes? They were the most beautiful eyes you've ever looked into. But somehow you were too ashamed to look at her, to even glance.

She was pretty, too pretty for you.

too good for you.

As she looked at you with that kind look in her eyes, you could not fathom how was she even able to talk to you still. Be so nice, after you literally abandoned her. It was never your intention to let go of this beautiful soul, but something pulled the strings on you. Making you not be yourself. You hated that. You hated yourself.

-

"i hate what you've become, I miss the way we laughed together, and how you held me. Everything we've done"

"Okay" I miss you more Chloe.

"Come back to me please, break out of this Y/n. I'm waiting. I'm always gonna want you back"

-

Days have passed, you two faking being a couple for the sake of Thomas leaving Chloe alone. The whole school whispering about this unusual romance.

Her hand found yours in the middle of the corridor upon all of these eyes looking at you. You felt awkward. It was truly awkward as she whispered to you.

"Y/n, act normally. I can feel your hand sweat soaking mine"

Slamming her back on the lockers you couldn't help but almost graze her lips "Then let go of my hand and just kiss me, we'll be done with that whole show" You blurted out, not realizing what have you just said.

"Are you insane?" That was exactly what she wanted.

" I think i might be...about you" you muttered the last part under your breath.

"They are so gonna talk about it" The blue haired princess breathed, her cheeks turning deep red.

"Well, that's why we're doing this right?"

-

And yet another argument burst out between you two.

How could someone be so stupidly, obviously in love with each other and argue on top of that? Whilst also being in a relationship? Fake, yes, but still.

You have to make up eventually though, right? You need to.

"Chloe.." You blurted out.

"Yes?" She answered with hope in her eyes, she was tired of this too. She missed you like hell and the worst part is, she didn't even know why you acted this way. You just stopped talking to her, stopped hanging out, became more distant and kind of floated away. She tried to bring you back a few times, but no luck. As if something was holding you hostage.

Oh how you loved her hopeful eyes. Always cheery, always positive. She was like a beam of sunlight on a dark day. A singular ray lightning up the whole world for you. You loved dark days but she was much better than that. Much better than anything and anyone you've ever loved.

So why couldn't you say it to her? scream at the top of your lungs how much you love her.

"Do you want to go out with me? After classes, go for a little walk?" You asked unsurely, would she want to? After all you've put her through? And now, faking being her lover? That's like an arow straight through the heart. Injesting itself like a poison flowing in her veins.

"Sure" she gave you a small nod. Just a small nod.

That way, you spent all of your remaining classes rethinking all the bad things you've said to her. All the mean things you've done. And how you could make the plane turn right around. How you could show her you're sorry. Apologize. But your mouth was doing something completely different than your soul wished to come out.

"You know it's really annoying, knowing you can't stick up for yourself. Like a child."

Chloe tried to stay calm, walking by your side when you broke the awkward silence, but she could not let go of these growing feelings, buzzing in her head with every second her hand grazed yours as you spat those harsh words at her. Is she annoying? Is that what you imply? Suddenly she burst out as she couldn't contain herself anymore,

"Tell me! Tell me what did i do wrong?! I can't believe you've been this icy, son of a bitch to me for the past, what, two years?! It's like we've never been best friends. You know how bad it hurt me? Having you be so cold to me after all those years spent everyday together? You were the closest person to my heart and you walked away from it. I cried nights colliding with your freezing stare after tasting the previous sun coming out of you. You were like swording to me, and now i don't even enjoy that! Everything I do reminds me of all the things we have done together. The simplest walks and these hard quests our dad's used to prepare for us just to get us out of the castle. Coming home just to eat a nice sandwich from my momma, split in half, the other for you. Never have I ever eaten the other half, even after you stopped coming to hang-out. The gut wrenching, sickening feeling in my stomach forbid me from eating for days. Even Chad has been asking for you, yes, this annoying little prince whos been bugging us everyday, missed you too. You turned away from me, why from me Y/n? You were everything i had. And you took it away" Chloe spat out the last sentence, giving you one last look before turning away and running till her legs gave up. Not giving you a chance to reedem yourself. Collapsing on the ground crying her heart out.

It was broken. It was broken by you. But she wanted you to be the person to piece it back together. She's been hurt by you but she wanted nothing more than to feel your comfort. You were the bad person, but how wrong of her was to want only you in her life? To feel your love? To feel your touch?

"Hey boo, what's wrong?" Red whispered into Chloes hair after dropping on the floor right beside her. Clinging hard onto her knight, so the blue would feel that support. She didn't know if that was right but thats what she heard is supposedto help.

"Y/n.." Was all that the Wonderlandian could make up from Charming's sobs.

She knew the situation between you two was tense hence all she did was just be there for her friend. Holding her, listening to her on and on rambles, how you're the worst, but also the best. It confused her, how this many feelings could be stored in such a small body.

"And it's so frustrating! Infuriating!" Chloe yelled pacing around the room, throwing her hands in every direction. Her emotions changing 10 times in the span of minutes. If Red didn't take her sword that would be the thing she'd be gesturing with.

"Yea-"

"She says one thing then all of a sudden she's got me spinning, clasped in her touch. Messing with my head like I'm some kind of a toy?" she was irritated, confused, sad. "You know what? I'm gonna go and sp-"

"No, no, Chloe, chill out first" Red tried to calm her but her friend was already at the door, swinging it open revealing someone standing in the frame.

"Um-Chlo?" She froze in place.

"Y/n"

"I was about to knock, i promise i did not eavesdrop" You offered a small smile.

"Good. What are you here for?" Her harsh tone made you wince

"Can we talk alone?" You asked looking briefly at the princess of Wonderland. She just nodded her head walking swiftly out of the room. "Listen Chloe. I'm sorry"

"Woah, deep coming from you Y/n, after two years" She remarked, crossing her arms on her chest. Looking anywhere but you

"I really am, I know it wil not change anything. But-" You breathed in, "I try to stop these harsh words from coming out, but i feel like a puppet. Like someone who is just controlled by others. Like I'm not myself. And i haven't been since I went to these woods" You sharply exhaled. Chloe shifted closer to you, sensing your truthfulness. "I fell like I've been cursed Chloe" You gazed into her eyes, your own brimming with tears. She immediately pulled you into a deep hug. She knew it wasn't you, you have always been a sweetheart. How could she not be there for you?

"It's okay"

"It really is not Chlo" You pulled away from her comforting arms, taking her hand in yours. The brief, delicate touch made Chloe spin, her mind cloud and her sight to blurry. Her body got hot and her heart thumped in her chest. "I thought, about complimenting you at least 5 times a day but i couldn't muster up the courage to break through" You admitted.

"You did?" Your soft tone of voice made her swoon, she missed you so bad.

"I did love. I wanted to scream because my mouth did the complete opposite" You giggled, but there was nothing to really giggle at "You know, you are absolutely wonderful"

"You think so?"

"Chloe, you're the most amazing, talented, smart and beautiful girl I've ever known. Of course you are" you smiled, taking her head in your hands, swiping your thumb over her rosy cheek.

"I love you" The Charming princess blurted out "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid"

"Chloe, Chloe, calm down" You tried getting her to stop shaking her head but it was no use. She was like a storm, unmanageable. So you did the only thing you could think of a the moment.

Getting closer your lips touched hers. Making her stop everything and hum into the kiss. She was frozen, her heart rate hitting skies, when she finally realized what was happening. Your mouths moved in synchronization as your hands found her neck pulling her even closer.

The kiss was slow, savoring every single second as you tried to pour all of your feelings into it. Her lips so soft and her tounge entangling with yours. It made you want more and more.

But you had to pull away, keeping her chin high up in your palm. Her little smile and kind brown eyes looking up at you made you burst out with happiness from the inside. Her hands hooked around your neck playing with your hair.

"I love you Chloe" You promised, planting one peck to her lips. The girl closed her eyes and nodded her head, telling you silently she knew.

She always knew, that's why she waited for your love.

[macfrog]

hits different cowboy like me chapter twelve

oh, my, love is a lie! are we all ready? do we have our coping strategies in place? have we prepared ourselves for impending doom? then gather round, my dear children, for i’ve a tale to tell. and it’s a SORE one

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: still reeling from your fight with joel, you seek out an effective way to deal with it: a night of sambuca shots and no second thoughts

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) alcohol + drug consumption (reader gets hammered), heartache, angst, unwanted touching, intended sexual assault, drink spiking, descriptions of blood and bruising, protective!joel gets into a quick barfight, more discussion of cheating(?), joel won't admit feelings, pain pain and more pain, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 10.9k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel takes a beat to answer. Like he’s waiting for your voice to fill the space, the way it usually would. What’s up, old man? How hard is it to copy an address right? Lois not as good at typing as she is at sucking your – “You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.” The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

Of course he went to see Lois. He’s probably been seeing her for some time now. A nice lady, his own age, his line of work. You’re pretty sure she has a son, too. And your dad would love her, would love to think Joel was shacking up with some plant hire receptionist. She could turn your life around, son, he’d said. They fit together like a couple of jigsaw pieces. What the fuck would he have ever seen in you, past some young, tight thing for him to fuck? Just a placeholder. Just a time-waster.

A twenty-three-year-old; enough energy to keep him on his toes, cure his boredom. Fill his summer with something to do. And close enough to him, too, that he reeled you in with minimum effort. One stupid look at you – one stupid, stupid glance and you were hooked. High as a kite on him. All the touching, all the whispering. That fucking – the fucking bottle. The video. All of it, every second he ever spent near you – it all makes you cringe now.

And then, once the embarrassment of being played by your dad’s best friend passes, there’s the hurt. The aching. Fuck, the aching. The way your chest swells, feels like it might rip at the seams and burst open. The sting behind your eyes anytime you picture his smile, the way he’d look at you. The feeling of your throat closing up whenever you go to speak, windpipe constricting around any words that aren’t his name, and using them to choke you.

And it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it. Can’t have a heart-to-heart with your dad, have him make you a tea and sit him down by your window, ask for advice on heartbreak and getting over his best friend. You’ve been excusing your reclusiveness by telling him you’re on your period. That’s why you haven’t left your bed in four days.

It was just all so fucking believable, wasn’t it? So good, you thought you were dreaming the entire time.

And here he’d just proven you right. You dreamt it all up.

Has he fucked her yet? Lois. Is she one of the ten he told you about the other night? Has she touched him the way you have? Has he touched her, the way he did you?

Does she know how he sounds when he comes undone? How he looks? How he feels? Does she do it for him the way you do it? And what does he call her? Baby? Darlin’? Or something different entirely?

Now you’re wondering when he started seeing her, and then, if they have slept together, when the first time was. Whether or not you cross over with her. Maybe he went and fucked her after you argued. Let off some steam over at her place, while you sat in his house, smelling his shirts and reading his stupid fucking Alcatraz books. While you paced around, practicing the words you’d say to him when he came back.

All you wanted was for him to come back. You wanted him to come find you upstairs, take the book from your hands and lean his head down on your chest, mumble an apology into the material of your shirt and then kiss you, and kiss you again while he pulled the clothes from your body, and kiss you while you were naked underneath him, and kiss you while he rocked his hips into yours.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You think you hate her. You don’t even know her. Don’t know what she looks like, only heard her voice. She’s probably gorgeous. Probably a really sweet woman, helps out on the PTA, the type that stops to read missing dog posters so she can keep an eye out for them. Probably knows Joel well enough that she writes Sarah a birthday card every year. Just a real nice, Southern lady.

And you fucking hate her.

That’s not fair, though, and you know it. She didn’t do anything wrong. Joel’s the one who screwed you over – screwed you both over. Really, you and Lois are one and the same.

Except that she’s taken away the only thing to put a real smile on your face since you got home, and for that, you fucking hate her.

What had he said again? That night he drove you home from Sal’s, the night your dad asked him to stay for pizza. …said she’d like to go for a drink. I said maybe sometime. Maybe he’d organized that drink, in the midst of whatever you two had been doing. Thought nothing of it – you said it yourself: you were just messing around. Said it, like, three times to him. Good fucking job.

And that adds to the hurt. That neither of you seemed to care enough to call it anything more. Because now, sitting alone in your room, desperately checking your phone for a missed call or a text message from him, ears pricking at every sound your dad makes downstairs in case he’s answering a call from Joel or welcoming him in through the front door – you wish you had called it something.

Wish you had just fucking said it. Told him outright about the feelings you had. You were thinking about them enough – the thought circled your mind any time there was a moment’s silence between you.

Sometimes, the way he’d glance over to you, the way his hand would brush against yours, the way he’d say your name…he felt like…

Yours. He was yours. He was so fucking close to being yours.

You almost said it, once. Almost admitted it to him. Couple times you saw it flash behind his eyes, too. And it’s a damn good thing neither of you did say it, because it would’ve been a mistake. Would’ve been lies.

You don’t love him. You never did. You were in some fantasy, built by Joel. There ain’t no love between you. None from your side. And definitely none from him.

Definitely – none – from –

him.

----------

Anna’s been at you all week. She text you on Monday night, but you were about four layers of blanket deep in your bed, weeping into a box of dry cereal and listening to some sad girl playlist on repeat. You fished your cell out from under your mattress the next morning. Your dad had to call it to help you find it.

Anna: Frank’s again on Friday? Rodeo night round 2!!!

Tuesday, it was Please?? It was so fun on Sat. Cmon, Kara’s coming again. Sam’s working but that means free shots so.

On Wednesday, she tried a new approach. I’ll cover any shift you want.

Any two shifts……

Ok three????

Thursday, she started to get desperate. I’ll spill all your secrets to my dad if you don’t come. And you know he’ll tell them all to your dad lol

By Friday morning, though, she’d decided you had no say in the matter: you were going, and you’d be happy about it. And you didn’t have it in you to fight back.

She’s standing at the side of the mirror, scanning you from head to two.

“All black? Again?”

“I look good in black.”

“You look good in anything,” she agrees, turning to sift through your closet, “so why don’t we go for…?”

“No,” you clip, holding a finger up to the red dress in her hands. “No.”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s hot. C’mon.”

“Why do I gotta be hot?”

“I mean…is Mr. Miller gonna be pickin’ you up again, or…?”

You lob a previously discarded dress at her and she snorts, turning to slip it back onto a hanger.

Even his fucking surname sends a pang of pain through your body. Your heart jumps at the sound of it, like its hopes had risen for a second, but then it plummets with the realization that it’s not really Joel, and he’s still really gone.

You’re in a plain black slip dress, black denim jacket slung over your shoulders. Black lace-up boots, too. It’s like rodeo night, except without the fun and excitement of Joel waiting for you at the end of the night. It’s basically rodeo night’s funeral. And good fucking riddance.

Anna – always glittering, always in some sparkly getup – leads you out of your bedroom and down the stairs. Your dad agreed to drop you guys off, seeing as he’s out working later on.

He’s sat in his armchair, glasses on the tip of his nose, squinting down at the instruction booklet to that fucking Garmin he’s still wrestling with. He looks up and claps his hands once.

“Ready, girls?”

Anna nods eagerly and you lift your eyebrows, thinking about how Joel would laugh at the sight of his buddy still fighting a very obviously lost battle to a GPS. Then you think about how he’d tell you quietly, You look beautiful, darlin’, and ask you to text him when you got home safe.

And finally, you think about how much of an ass he is, and you blink the tears from your eyes before following the two blurry figures out to the car.

Anna snaps a couple selfies as the car winds out of the neighborhood, angling her phone to pull you into shot. The sun setting over the roofs of the houses dazzles your eyes. She tuts, tells you to Look like you actually wanna be goin’ out, and sends them to Kara, letting her know you’re on your way.

You’re watching her reply to a text from some boy she’s seeing when your dad’s ringtone echoes throughout the car, the name on the tiny digital screen the very last name you want to see right now.

Or maybe the very name you’ve been waiting all week to see. Just, on your screen instead of your dad’s.

“Hey, Joel,” your dad calls, and your body instinctively leans in to listen better. Drawn in like a magnet to just the sound of his voice.

“Hey, bud,” he replies. It’s like a punch to your chest. Hands around your throat. Salt behind your eyes. “I just got off the phone with Clark’s, they just dropped that equipment off at the site. Said there wasn’t nobody around to sign for it, so they just left it at the gate.”

“It’s a manned site, what do they mean there wasn’t–?”

“No idea,” Joel says, cutting across him. “Just said there wasn’t anybody to take the delivery.”

Anna’s head slowly turns in your direction, likely to take another dumb selfie or to ask some random question about your outfit, but you turn away, refusing to meet her hazel-eyed stare. Refusing to let her take your attention away from this phone call. From Joel.

Your dad sighs, runs a hand down his cheek. “I hope it’s still there when I get to it. Sure you gave ‘em the right address on Monday?”

“I wrote it down exactly how you text me it.”

Joel’s voice sounds flatter than normal. Less trademark Joel grumbly and more tired, deflated. A little irritated. It bruises your heart hearing him and not chiming in, not teasing him for potentially getting the street name wrong or something. Not letting him know you’re here.

Your dad does that anyway, though.

“Well,” he sighs again, hitting the turn signal, “I’m on my way to Frank’s – girls are havin’ another one of their wild nights out. I’ll head straight from there to the site ‘n make sure everything’s in place. Thanks, Joel.”

Joel takes a beat to answer. Like he’s waiting for your voice to fill the space, the way it usually would. What’s up, old man? How hard is it to copy an address right? Lois not as good at typing as she is at sucking your –

“You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.”

The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

No. He was talking to you. He knew you’d be listening. Knew that conversation would mean much more to you than it ever could to your dad. And he knew you’d be hanging on to every word he spoke.

He’s home all night, which translates to: he’s only ever fifteen minutes away if you wind up needing him. If you end up wanting him.

You’ve spent the last four days purposefully stopping yourself from wanting him. Your thumb has hovered over his name in your contacts more times than you’d care to admit. Mostly at night, when your dad goes to bed and there’s eight hours of quiet – quiet you’d usually fill by annoying Joel, striking up a conversation at midnight when he’s about to sleep.

What the fuck would you even say if he did pick up? Would you be mad? Would you yell? Or would you just break down, sob a few incoherent sentences down the line to him and pray that he doesn’t hang up?

But then – would he even pick up? It’s not a thought you want to entertain much. That sound of ringing and ringing, and no gruff, Hey, baby, at the other end.

Your chest hurts. You take a gulp of air.

You’d happily have him never touch you again if he’d just come the fuck back.

Anna slaps your arm and Joel’s face is wiped clean from your mind. “C’mon,” she chirps, and nods out of your window.

You turn to see the faded blue brick walls of Frank’s, clusters of people outside clutching cigarettes and glasses, holding hands up to shield their eyes from the sunlight and tipping their heads back in laughter at one another. Kara stands among them, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. She waves when you catch her eye, stumbling out of the car in a daze.

Anna’s arm links through yours, almost violently, and she skips along the sidewalk to Kara, who joins your chain. The three of you stroll into the bar together and over to Sam, who smiles genially in welcome.

“Hello, ladies,” he sings, leaning in. “What can I do ya for?”

“Get us drunk, Sam!” Anna exclaims, rapping her knuckles on the bar top, and, for the first time tonight, you find yourself nodding in agreement with her.

Get me –

fucking –

hammered.

----------

You get your wish. Sam hands you a cold beer, and within twenty minutes you’re ordering a second. Anna and Kara opt for cocktails, some bright pink concoction that you don’t even bother to ask the name of, you just lean over the bar and tell Sam to make up a third.

And then there are the shots, two each, which are a hysterically terrible idea. You know it as you tip your head back, sickly taste of sambuca spilling down your throat and taking with it the very last of your good sense, apparently.

All the while, that phone call rattles through your head. Joel’s voice swings between your ears like a pendulum. His dry tone, the borderline contempt he spoke to your dad with. The thought of who he’s been with and what he’s been doing either side of that call burns like the drink in your belly, and forces you back up to the bar for another to wash him away with.

You rock against the dark wood, sticky with alcohol, and hoist yourself up onto a stool. “One peer, blease, sir,” you garble to Sam, one finger in the air. “Oh, wait…”

You throw your hand down onto the bar with a roar of laughter and lean back, forgetting there’s no back to your chair. It tilts back, and your hands fumble to grab the edge of the bar, but it’s too far, too late, and you land on the solid floor with a clatter – metal leg of the stool digging into your own.

“Fuck,” you hiss, dragging yourself back to your feet. A thin line of dark red blood cuts from halfway down your calf, streaming down into your boot.

“Are you okay?” Sam yells, stood frozen with the beer and bottle opener still in his hands.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, clambering to your feet. You don’t even convince yourself.

Sam doesn’t let go of the bottle when your fingers curve around it. He looks you dead in the eye and asks, “What’s goin’ on?” and you know he won’t let go until you answer him.

“Nothin’. I’m fine.”

Until you answer him truthfully, that is.

“I’m…It’s just…I got a lot goin’ on up here.” Your shaky finger draws a circle against your temple, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I can see that. Is this really a good ide–”

“Well, howdy, clumsy!”

The owner of whatever fucking annoying voice just shrieked through your ears slaps his hand down on your shoulder, almost toppling you for the second time in five minutes, and you twist around to find a pair of red, blotchy cheeks and almost equally red hair to match, stood before you.

“Hi…?” You squint your eyes to get a better look, the figure swaying with the room behind him.

“Hi.” He’s still smiling. Two huge front teeth, like a pair of overgrown Tic Tacs. “You have no idea who I am, do you? That’s…embarrassing for me.”

“Zack!” another voice screams over the bassline of the music. “Are you fucking coming or not, dude?”

A pale, jittery guy with a dark green t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame barges into the red-haired boy’s side, and a few seconds after his mouth stops moving, you register what he’s said.

“No – f-fucking – way,” you breathe, staring him up and down. His red flannel is tucked into his jeans, sealed by a brown leather belt. There’s a longhorn head on the buckle. “Zack? From Costco? What the fuck’d you do, stalk me?”

He laughs awkwardly, looking from you to over your shoulder, where Sam’s still holding your beer.

“Sorry–” you mutter, shaking your head. “I’m not at my best right now.”

“It’s cool,” he replies, grinning. “You look like you’re having a good night. I’m out with my buddies. This is Eric.”

Eric gives you a nod – his blond fringe jumps, and he jerks his head to sweep it back out of his eyes. “Nice to meet you,” he says, before rounding again on Zack. “Seriously, bro, he says he’s not waitin’ around this time. C’mon!”

“We were gonna head to the rooftop if you wanted to come?” Zack raises his eyebrows, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as Eric and another two figures make off for the stairs at the other end of the bar.

“Sure.” You blindly reach for your beer and Sam relents, letting it slip from his grasp. He calls your name as you trot off, and you turn for one second to give his worried stare a thumbs up, before swirling back toward the stairs. No second thought.

This isn’t the night for second thoughts.

The rooftop is quieter, less crowded. Background noise made up of passing cars, a siren in the distance, and the muffled music from downstairs. You wander over to where Zack stands with Eric and a couple others: a short guy with wireframe glasses, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, and someone you think you almost recognize.

His black V-neck looks like it might burst at the seams around his chest, swollen with muscle. Thick neck, holding up a square jawline, and a face heavy with features which mirror the broad body below.

And a thick smell of marijuana which follows his every move.

Zack shuffles to the side to let you into the circle. You shimmy in between him and Eric.

V-neck pulls a small metal case from his back pocket and fishes a cigarette out of it. Eyes start to shift around the group, the boys glancing over shoulders to check who’s watching.

“Are we…? Is that weed?” you blurt out.

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric hisses, jabbing his elbow into your ribcage.

V-neck eyes you down quickly. It’s the first he looks at you, and it puts a sickly feeling through your body. Sends the alcohol hurtling over itself in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows and wrap your arms around yourself, your beer bottle against your lips. “Sorry, jeez…”

“This is Knox,” Zack mutters, as Knox lights the cigarette.

He takes one hit, inhaling deeply with his chin in the air, and passes it to the boy in the hoodie. Another cloud of smoke joins Knox’s, slowly dispersing above your heads, and then it’s Eric’s turn. With a cough, his fist against his lips, he passes it to Zack. Soon, the air around you is thick and white, and Zack’s handing you the joint.

You lift it to your lips and inhale. The feeling hits you instantly; your body feels light, your face warm, your eyes blink in and out of focus, watching as a blurry shadow begins to follow your hand when you pass the joint back to Knox.

A couple more circuits, and the roach is pressed into the ground by Knox’s boot. The group separates; Zack and his friends fall into some metal chairs around a table, sparking up a debate on the best Lord of the Rings film, and you float around nearby.

“You a friend of Zack’s?” Knox asks, downing what’s left of his whiskey.

“Hm…Not really. We met at Costco, ‘cause I was there to get some party stuff for my dad’s friend’s daughter’s– Well, she’s my friend, too, and she wanted this garden party, and my dad’s friend was like, What the fuck is a garden party? you know, so I had to go help ‘im get stuff for it, with my dad, who was kinda a buzzkill, but anyway…Z-Zack helped me lift some sodas into my cart.”

Knox nods once. Fingers locked tight around his empty glass. He’s staring you down like you’re fresh meat.

You purse your lips and stare back, but quickly get bored when he doesn’t speak, and you miss Anna and her selfies and her sambuca shots. As you’re about to wander back to the door, though, Knox steps in front of you.

“So, you’re here often, then?”

Your shoulder knocks into his. “Huh?”

“Saw you last week. You were pretty spaced, don’t know if you remember.”

The memory whips past your eyes quicker than you can catch it, frames lingering only long enough for you to see Knox’s thick arm linked with yours outside Frank’s, the smell of weed in your nostrils, and the bright lights of Joel’s truck. And then it’s gone, before you can get a good grip of it.

“I’m…I remember now. Yeah. No, I’m not here much, I just…Rough week.”

He nods again, and you suspect he hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said since he got you alone. “You want another drink?”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel more and more nauseous. Makes you want to turn and run back downstairs, slot in beside Anna and Kara, bury yourself between their shoulders and stay there until they decide they want to go home.

It makes you feel the way it felt last week, when he halted you outside the bar on your way to Joel. And suddenly the memory is soaring in front of your eyes again.

Your hand on Joel’s elbow. The frown on his face. Whitened knuckles around the steering wheel. ‘s go, pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl.

“Yeah,” you tell Knox. “Yeah, I do.”

You follow him downstairs where he nods to Sam at the bar.

Sam ignores him, instead glares at you. “Can we talk…?” he asks, but Knox cuts across him.

“Beer, right?” he checks with you, and you nod. “And another whiskey.”

Your friend hesitantly grabs the drinks, glancing up at you every five seconds in a question. You respond by nodding slowly, feeling your head bounce each time you do.

You lazily scan the room for Anna and Kara, who you spot in a booth over by the window. The spotlights overhead reflect in the sparkles of Anna’s dress; Kara’s holding the straw of her drink between her lips, bobbing her head to the music. You saunter over, twirling on your way.

“Where have you been, baby?” Anna calls, giggling when you fall against the booth, palms flat on the wooden table.

“Upstairs,” you mumble, and then feel a tap on your back.

“Forgot this,” Knox says, pushing the beer into your hand. “You wanna go dance?”

Anna’s face twists into one of worry, and you give her an apologetic smile and spin off, following the wide frame to a dark corner of the bar where he takes your wrist and pulls your body against his.

He’s not doing much dancing, rather, he’s just keeping a solid grip on your waist, watching as you rock side to side, taking a couple shallow sips of your drink. You pull on his arm, Fucking move, dude, but he only leans further back, until he’s shrouded in shadows and pulling you into them with him.

When he leans into your space and snakes a drunken arm tight around your neck, you don’t retreat. You lean in, too, and plant your lips on his.

It’s messy, it’s a little gross. He tastes sour, weed and alcohol on his tongue, and it makes you wish you’d never started kissing him. Still, you take it further. You open your mouth more, letting more of him in, soak your own tongue, wet your lips. You barely even feel it when his hands move south and cup your ass, and it’s only when he squeezes that you wriggle out of his grip.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking hold of his sleeve to steady yourself. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, says something short that you don’t hear, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s smaller, much shorter than Joel. Your shoulders almost match the height of his. But he’s more built, he’s bulkier, in an uncomfortable way. Like trying to put your arms around a giant balloon or something. There’s no softness, no enclosing feeling when your weight presses against his. Just the huge surface of his chest, the hollow feeling of two mismatched bodies unwillingly pushed together.

Not strong. Not safe. Not secure. Not him.

But you’re kissing him again, because it’s the first time in five days you’ve felt something other than your aching chest and heavy head. You’re kissing him because you feel unwanted and unloved and, even though he seems almost as hammered as you are, it feels good to have someone want to be on you.

You’re kissing him because you’re trying to pretend it’s Joel.

Only he tastes…well, disgusting, and he smells different. He’s sweating from the heat in the bar, and his arms aren’t placed somewhere to make you feel wrapped in his grasp, they’re placed anywhere that he can pinch, squeeze, or otherwise fondle.

Joel’s face swims in and out of your head; a smile as he pulls you in for a kiss, a smirk when he’s telling you off, soft eyes when he’s listening to you talk. It makes you want to throw up.

That might just be the drinks.

Someone taps you furiously on the shoulder, and you push Knox off your body.

When your eyes fail to meet Sam’s, he takes your wrist and drags you behind the bar, ripping the beer bottle from your grasp and almost launching it into the sink. It smashes, and the liquid pours down the drain.

“Hey, what the f–?”

“I’m gonna call your dad,” he yells, deafening to your numb ears.

“Do not fucking call my dad,” you slur, laughing a little. “I’m fine! I’m having fun.”

“You’re fucking wasted. And that guy – he’s bad news.”

“Does it matter?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Who even are–? What the fuck is up with you right now? Yes, it fucking matters!”

“Not my dad,” you repeat as you back away, staggering over to the booth where your friends sit.

Anna storms over to meet you, slipping her wrist around yours and bringing you to a halt. “Did Sam find you?” she asks. Her hands plant on your shoulders, and she dips her head until you’re eye to eye.

She’s blurry. She’s nothing but shapes, and movements, and noises. And she’s fucking pissing you off.

“Can everyone just – get the fuck off of me?” you groan, stumbling backwards, and Anna links her hands with yours to stop you from collapsing.

She pulls you back upright, leaning in close. Her head shakes, you can see that much. But her expression is cloudy, and her hands don’t let go of yours so easily when you try to pull away. The orb-like shapes in front of you mutter your name, only it’s not Anna’s voice, it’s his.

Anna’s babbling, panicked tone drives through your skull. “She’s been drinking, like, a lot, and I think she might’ve had some weed upstairs. But Sam said he saw –”

“C’mon, kid,” his voice says again, and there’s a heavy arm pulling you off to the door.

“Get – off – of – me.” You struggle in his grasp, pushing his body away from yours, fingers expecting to find the V-neck collar of a black shirt and instead finding –

Buttons. The edges of a green flannel shirt. And a soft cotton tee underneath. And then his scent washes over you: warm, sweet, earthy. Grounding.

“Joel…” you whisper, thick with fear and intoxication and need.

His jaw angles down, you catch one fleeting glimpse of his chin, graying beard, tight lips hidden beneath it, and then you’re shoving his chest again, attempting to push him as far away from your own body as he’ll go.

Only he doesn’t move.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, palms flat on his pecs. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He says your name in a hazy blur, says, “We’re goin’ home,” and you almost laugh in his face.

“I don’t f-fucking think so.”

“Yeah? Well, I do. Thanks, Anna, I got her.”

“Hey,” a fourth voice joins the chorus, “hey, you know this guy?”

Knox pushes past Joel’s arm, unlinking your fingers from his, and takes your shoulder with one rough hand. All your anger, all your rage at Joel, and yet, the second you’re separated from him, the only thing on your mind is having his hand back around yours.

Joel’s upper lip twitches, he stares at the back of Knox’s head and then scoffs, reaches by him again to take your wrist. You let him have it. “Come on,” he says.

Knox is rounding on him, holding Joel back with a palm flat to his chest. “I ain’t too comfortable lettin’ her head outta here with some random old man, dude…”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the –

Joel’s jaw ticks. His expression falls blank, narrowed eyes looking up and down Knox’s frame as you tremble behind it, Anna’s steady arm around your shoulders.

“Take your hand off of me, and move aside,” he snarls, voice dangerous. You can hear the threat, and at the same time, the desperate attempt from within himself to hold off.

“Hey,” Anna reaches forward, tapping Knox’s shoulder three times with a glittery nail, “she knows him. It’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Nah, man,” Knox hisses back, “who the fuck even are you? You ain’t takin’ her anywhere.”

You step forward, putting yourself between the two of them, hands clumsily landing on each of their shoulders. “He’s a f…my dad’s friend,” you slur, eyes unfocused.

Knox isn’t listening. He hasn’t listened the entire fucking night. His eyes are set on Joel’s as he wraps a tight fist around your free arm, trying to pull you closer to him. Only he’s hurting you, and your fingers struggle to pry yourself free, so you look up at Joel.

You couldn’t see Anna’s expression. Couldn’t make out the worry on her face that her voice clued you in on. You could barely even see Sam, when he dragged you out of the dark corner of the bar.

But you can see Joel. See the shadow his brows cast over his glower, see his thin lips, see the tightening of his jaw. See the rage inside him like it’s an alarm beacon, flashing red from behind his eyes.

Knox tugs angrily on your wrist. “You just gonna let this asshole ruin your night?”

“Let go of m-me,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the bar’s eyes on you. Your face reddens with heat from the alcohol, doubled by your embarrassment.

When he hears you, Joel’s face contorts into one you’ve never seen on his face in your life. Fury, disgust and fury, twisting his lip and tugging on his brows. He leans in and rips yours and Knox’s hands apart, pulling you free and shifting you behind his body with as much effort as it’d take him to click his fingers. Your weak hand reaches out to take a fistful of his shirt, holding onto him at his spine.

The men square up to one another, Joel at least four inches taller and, despite Knox’s built form, far broader. Knox takes a step forward and Joel matches.

“Joel…” you whisper, catching Anna’s gaping stare over his shoulder.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Miller?” Sam edges in from behind Knox. “I’m gonna have to ask that you…don’t…do this, but if you have to, can y’all maybe move it out to the street?”

“Do I gotta do somethin’?” Joel asks Knox. You pull in closer to his back, trying to hide your face from the spotlight cast on you by what feels like thousands of drunken eyes staring directly at you.

Knox thinks it over for a moment. You can see Zack watching like a deer in the headlights from behind his buddy. He’s seen Joel before, and you know from the way his eyes stick on him that he recognizes him. Remembers how briskly he swept you out of the soft drinks section, how blunt he was about it.

The V-neck swells with the deep inhale its wearer takes, and then he shakes his head, sighing. Smug smirk thick across his lips.

“Nah, man. I didn’t think she was gonna be worth the fuck anyways, so.”

Joel clicks his teeth, gives his head one quick shake, mutters a resigned, “Alright,” then reaches back, and nudges you gently by the stomach until you’re safely out of reach.

And then he swings.

Once, catching Knox across the corner of his jaw, sending his face skyward. The crowd around the three of you gasps. Knox’s burly chest twists, and he staggers backward. His hands come up to clutch his face before Joel’s taking the collar of his shirt in his fist, reeling him in and holding him steady.

“Joel!” you yell, but he doesn’t fucking hear you.

His second blow lands square on Knox’s nose with a crack loud enough even for your numb ears to hear over the thudding music. Blood sprays from his nostrils and floods down into his mouth, smearing across his cheek as Joel’s knuckles ricochet off the square face. The crimson pours down his chin, spattering onto his shirt, bright and shocking against the stretched black material.

Joel lets him drop and he collapses onto all fours, coughing blood and spit and whatever the fuck else onto the dark floor.

“Fuck!” Knox screams, fingers trembling over his burst nose – thick, dark droplets running down his hands. “You motherfucker, you broke my fucking nose!”

Joel stoops down, takes the back of Knox’s shirt in two rough hands and hauls him up until he’s limp on his knees.

“I ever see you around here again,” he growls, “I ever find out you’ve been anywhere near her, as much as looked in the same fuckin’ direction as her, I’ll do worse ‘n break your Goddamn nose. You hear me?”

Knox whimpers, more blood dribbles from between his lips, and Joel throws him down. He turns back to you, massaging his knuckles with his thumb, and grabs your hand.

Your voice is weak with shock. “What the f-uck was that?”

“Just – come on,” he says, dragging you out of Frank’s without another word.

He leads your wobbly form down the street, past chattering crowds toward his black truck, opening the door for you and helping your unsteady limbs up into the passenger side, before he closes the door over and strides around to the driver’s side.

When he shuts his door – more of a slam – he sighs, head leaning back. His hand clenches and then relaxes, loosening his knuckles, hissing anytime the quickly-darkening skin stretches.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“What you sorry for?”

You shrug. Your mouth trips over words. “…gettin’ you into a barfight.”

He doesn’t look over at you. Just Hms and switches the ignition on, pulling away from the busy curb.

“Where’s m-my dad?” you slur.

“Work. Site inspection, remember?”

You nod, turning back to the road when you start to feel motion sick. Your eyes feel like they’re spinning in their sockets, your stomach flips with the slightest turn. “He get that delivery?” you ask, letting Joel know you heard the phone call earlier.

His jaw turns in your direction. Letting you know he knows you heard it. “Yeah. He’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Did Sam c-call him?”

“No. Why?”

You lean your head against the passenger window, the cold distracting your brain from the ache in your head. The streetlights sail by in a blur. The engine rattles through the glass.

“Asked ‘im not to.”

“Yeah? ‘n why’s that?”

Your head rolls back onto the headrest as you decide on an answer. I didn’t want him seeing me drunk and high. I don’t care about you seeing me drunk and high. I just wanted to see you.

“’s never seen me drunk.”

“Or high?”

You snort. “I’m not…”

When your head slants to the left to look at Joel, his face turns from yours. He was just looking at you, and you missed it. Probably had that look on his face, that Nice try, kid expression.

“Okay…” you admit, spiritless, “a little high, then.”

“Anna was the one who called,” Joel says. “Said you were hammered, some guy was all over you, ‘n Sam watched him put somethin’ in your drink. They couldn’t find you anywhere. She was fuckin’ hysterical.”

Your head bobs with the moving truck. “When’d he put someth…?”

Joel shrugs. “I dunno. But I believe it.”

So do I, you think. Knox was on you from the minute he saw you. Tight grip around your waist, your wrist, drawing you into him with beer and weed and whatever else he had in his pockets. The comment that had warranted him two bone-breaking punches from Joel all but confirmed the intentions he had in mind. And now you feel fucking stupid.

“I didn’t really…I only had a couple sips of it,” you hear yourself saying, head heating with embarrassment – an attempt to convince him, or maybe more yourself, that you’re not as dumb as leaving your drink to be roofied.

Your voice sounds pathetic, though, and Joel doesn’t say anything to make you feel better. Doesn’t say anything to make you feel worse, either – the silence does that by itself.

You bring your knees up to your chin, nestling a little into the seat. It could almost feel like nothing’s happened, nothing’s changed, except you’re intoxicated, and Joel’s hands are firmly by his person. Not on your thigh, or tangled between your fingers like they usually would be.

You study him. Stare at every part of him like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see it, until the gentle curve of his nose and the glint of his watch face are burned into the back of your eyelids when you close them over. Face lit red from the brake lights in front, right hand sitting idly on his thigh.

He looks like your Joel. Almost. Just a little closed off. Distant.

But he came to get you, right? Damn near punched Knox’s lights out, took you by the hand, led you back to the safety of his truck. He came straight to Frank’s as soon as Anna called. And he’s taking you home. He’s looking out for you.

So why doesn’t he feel like your Joel?

Well. You can wager a pretty solid guess. It starts with L and ends with comma, Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire.

The dark silhouette of your house looms overhead as Joel pulls into your drive. Sure enough, your dad’s not home.

The engine cuts and your head drops, eyes fixing on your hands clasped in your lap. You know Joel’s watching you. What the fuck is he thinking about?

Fuck that. Don’t think about that. Let’s not dive into that pool of imagination.

“Well, thanks.” You do your best to smile, without really looking at him. Your fingers find the door handle and you tug on it, pushing it open and spilling out onto your driveway.

You hear Joel sniff behind you. “Need a hand?”

“I’m good,” you call back, only just managing to stay on your feet.

The cold air helps a little to waken you up, sharpen your senses, but the world around you is still a whir of dull color and shapelessness, and you wobble across to the house in a route of zig-zags, boots almost tripping over thin air as you go. When you reach your front door, you hear his truck lock and the shadow of him appears by your side.

“I said I’m good.”

“I ain’t leaving you, kid. You’re hammered.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but then he’s taking the keys out of your hand and unlocking the door himself, hand on your back as he ushers you into your own house.

“I’m f-fine,” you repeat, tripping over the doorway.

“Look it.”

You meander over to the stairs, and when your foot manages to find the first step, Joel says your name. Your gaze sweeps across the floor until it meets his boots, travels up his legs, and finally rests on his outstretched hand.

“Water,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you say, the word losing meaning the more you utter it. “I wanna go – to bed.”

He shakes his head, and then tilts it in the direction of the kitchen.

You groan, mumble something about him being such an asshole, and walk straight by his hand.

Joel doesn’t react. Just follows you and hits the lights, which burn your eyes when they flicker to life. You wince and point up to them.

“Off,” you bluntly order, and he grunts, stepping back to oblige. You’re plunged straight back into darkness.

You’re holding yourself unsteadily against the edge of the kitchen island, whole body swaying. The room is fucking spinning, the lights out back swirling with it in a blur of white motion before your eyes. You swallow dryly and turn around to focus on Joel.

He’s filling a glass over the sink. “What happened to your leg?” he asks over his shoulder.

You turn your knee, examining the dent in your calf where the stool leg cut into you. The dry burgundy stain like a backwards seam line on your skin, emerging from a bright red bruise slowly fading to deep purple.

“Fell off a stool,” you mutter, angling it in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Joel Hms again. “You got anything to cover it?”

You shrug, having lost any and all energy to barter back with him. He slides the glass across the countertop to you, followed by a bottle of painkillers, then turns back to the open drawer he pulled them from and begins rummaging for a band-aid.

Your shaky hand lifts the glass to your lips. It’s cold and slippery in your grasp, drops of condensation running over your fingers like the blood from Knox’s nose had run over his. The more you tighten your grip, the harder it becomes to hold, until it’s sliding from your clutch.

“Easy,” Joel murmurs, appearing at the side of you and placing his hands over yours, holding the glass still.

“Your knuckles are bleeding,” you say, eyes focusing and then unfocusing on the marks at the base of his fingers, the dabs of dark red where the skin has burst.

He slowly lowers your hands until the glass is safely back on the counter, and then pulls away from you, drawing his swollen knuckles in to his body.

“They’re bleedin’,” you repeat, looking up at him.

“I know they’re bleedin’.”

“Let me see,” you step forward, “Joel. Let me–”

He catches your hands in his. Pushes them back down. Stares at the counter, sighs instead of replying.

Your eyes sting, filling with tears that crowd your already-blurred vision. The punch you feel to your gut brings you to your senses as if it drains you of every substance in your system all at once.

It’s like he’s broken up with you all over again. And it pisses you the fuck off.

“Fuck you,” you whisper into the dark, and he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lift his eyes, doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, so much.”

You’re staring him down, what little you can see of him in the pale light cascaded onto him through the shades. The crease between his brows, more prominent with the frown on his face; the line his lips form with the tight clench of his jaw.

Fucking look at me, you think. He can say something back – anything. You can stand and hiss horrible words at one another, yell at each other if that’s what he wants to do. Argue until you’re blue in the face, until the alcohol’s all dried up and the moonlight on his chest is replaced by sunlight. Just fucking look at me.

“You’re an asshole and a liar, you know that?”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Just stringing me along this whole time.”

You blink away the tears before they can fall, making room for more. They’re forming rapidly, each time heavier, and thicker, and angrier. But fuck it, right? This is over. He’s done, and you’re done. Just ignore the pain of it, stick your finger in the wound and keep pushing until you hit bone.

“That guy you punched? He was all over me. All fucking night.”

Joel’s voice is toneless. He’s already over the conversation before it’s begun. “I know he was, kid.”

“We kissed.”

“I know that, too.”

“Had his hands all over me. ‘n if it hadn’t been him, it woulda been literally any other guy in there.”

The words are starting to bleed into one another in your inebriated state. Anger turning to rage turning to fear turning to shame turning to hurt turning back into anger.

“Woulda kissed any one of ‘em. Mighta let them take me home, mighta let them fuck me.”

His head gives an involuntary shake and he blinks. Like he’s trying to wash the thought away. The image of you under someone else, moaning someone else’s name, pulling someone else into your body.

“That piss you off? It make you hate me?”

And then he looks up. Finally, his gaze locks with yours. And his eyes are just as glassy, just as fucking full of tears as yours. He replies with the worst thing he could possibly come up with. It forces the breath from your lungs in a painful exhale.

“There ain’t a thing in this world that you could do that would make me hate you, you know that.”

And then your tears start to fall. Your façade breaks. Stone crumbles. Dam bursts. They fall onto your cheeks, searing on your heated skin, rolling down onto the front of your dress in dark splatter marks.

Through a sob, you choke out another, “Fuck you, Joel,” and then, when you catch your breath, “you don’t get to – to sleep with someone else, and make me feel like the idiot for it.”

He looks up at you with a dark expression, lips locked tight like he’s refusing to let something slip. He shakes his head, and then says, “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

You scoff. A drunken, angry scoff. “You don’t wanna talk about her? When’s a good fuckin’ time, then? When suits you and f-fuckin’ – Lois?”

He falls quiet. Presses his fingers into his eyes. Sighs. “Baby,” he says into his palms.

“’m not your fucking baby,” you whisper between your teeth.

“Baby.” He drops his hands. Looks you dead in the eye. “I did not sleep with Lois.”

You’re frozen to the spot. Your lips fall apart, coated in salty tears. You’re holding your breath, though you’re not sure what for. The room stops spinning for all of ten seconds until he speaks again.

“I didn’t. I know what that message sounded like. Know how you musta heard it. But nothin’ happened, nothin’ has ever happened. Nothin’ would ever happen,” he says, a little more animated, tossing his hands in the air.

You stare between his eyes. He’s still enough that your fucked brain can focus on them, can see plain as day – even in the dark kitchen, even through your cloudy tears and all of the poison in your blood – that he’s telling the truth.

“Ex-plain,” you say dryly, looking down to his lips.

Joel sighs again. “I told you I had work to do. Had to head over to Clark’s to order that stuff for your dad. Saw her there, said hi. ‘n that’s all.”

Your eyes slowly close over, wet lashes on hot, dehydrated skin. Your ears are ringing, your body aching. You breathe a sigh as what he says sinks into your slow, throbbing brain, and then lull to one side, slumping against the counter.

“You didn’t…you didn’t think this was worth tellin’ me on Monday?”

“Tried, baby. You were gone. You were so angry; thought it’d be better if I let you cool off.”

“You’re – a fucking – idiot,” you seethe, shaking your head. It’s starting to pound again, sharp pain right behind your eyes like they’re being tugged backwards.

“Well, tonight, I guess that makes two of us.”

You grimace at him. “Lettin’ me go for four fuckin’ days thinking that –”

“– thinkin’ that I would actually cheat on ya? ‘s that what you think a’ me?”

“What did you ex-pect? You didn’t exactly try to – c-clear it up.” You step back, lifting a hand to cup your forehead with a groan. A mix of frustration, pain, and exhaustion in the form of a slow-moving ache hauls its way from one temple to the other.

“Baby, I gotta get you to bed,” Joel says, stepping forward. “We can talk about this when you’re able to see straight.”

“I’m fine,” you whimper, but it’s the least convincing you’ve sounded all night.

“Kid–”

“Don’t fucking call me kid. Like it’s some pet name, like you give a damn about me–”

“You think I don’t give a damn about you? You think I don’t care?”

Your head wobbles in response. It sends the room hurtling again, Joel’s figure swimming in and out of your vision. You grab the countertop again in attempt to freeze him in place.

He tuts and turns his jaw. “You know how much sleep I’ve had these last few days? Not a fuckin’ minute. I ain’t slept a single night, worryin’ about you ‘n what’s goin’ through your head. Like I give a damn about you. I wish I didn’t give a damn about you, baby. Make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Then, show me. Fucking prove it to me.”

“Prove it to you how? Break some asshole’s nose in a bar? Take you home when you’re wasted?”

Yeah. And also, no. Not just that.

You seethe. “You know what the fuck I mean. Do something about it.”

“I can’t,” he says, raising his voice. “Can’t take you out on dates, can’t put my arm around you, can’t kiss you ‘less there ain’t nobody watchin’. I can’t do none of what I wanna do. This is – it’s fuckin’…”

“…impossible,” you breathe, thick and slurred.

Joel lifts his head then, sees the look in your eye. He sniffs. “’s pretty damn hard, yeah.”

You tip your head back, feel the weight of your tears and your eyes and your brain slap against the back of your skull, a nauseating pull at the nape of your neck. You’re defeated. Nothing left in you to argue, talk, even so much as breathe.

Your words drag between one another, each one beginning with the remnants of the one before it.

“Just - take me to bed.”

He’s standing inches from you, hands hovering over your own, hesitant or unwilling or fucking afraid to touch you.

You ball your fists against his chest and give him one tiny, ineffective shove. But he’s bigger, stronger, sober. He doesn’t budge. Accepting defeat, you breathe one last, “Fuck you,” and brush past him, staggering out of the kitchen.

Joel – water and painkillers in hand – watches you like a hawk going upstairs, arms braced for you to lean on anytime you begin to tumble backward. When you do, his hand brushes your elbow, and you whip it out of his reach and reel it back in to your body.

He settles you on the bed just like he did six days ago, after your rodeo night. Only he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t take your boots off. Just walks away, grabs a tee from your chest of drawers and hands it to you to slip into by yourself.

You don’t even have to open your eyes. You know which one he’s given you. Can tell from the feel of the material, the cracked lettering on the chest, that it’s his Rangers shirt, the same one he put on you the first night you slept together. Smells more like you than it does him these days, but feels just like he always does. And as he waits a safe two-feet from you for you to change, no hands reaching out to help, to fix your hair, to stroke your cheek – you think the shirt will just have to do.

Everything he does is close enough for you to recognize him as Joel, and yet distant enough for him to be someone totally different. Every move he makes is pre-determined, all outcomes already analyzed and mapped, all risks carefully averted. It’s like he’s walking a minefield.

He hands you a couple of pills and helps with lifting the water to your lips. Then he sits at the end of your bed and applies the band-aid while you drag a makeup wipe clumsily over your face.

His thumbs linger on your fucked leg, rubbing over the padded dressing a few times after it’s stuck on, gentle and slow. Eyes never leaving the spot your skin broke open. And then, when you’re done with it, he takes the makeup wipe and quickly runs it down your calf, cleaning the dry blood from your skin.

Touch as delicate as though he were holding a rose – fingers brushing over your body like you might tear or fall apart at the slightest movement. When he’s done, he makes his way around to the opposite side of the bed.

“There’s a sleeping bag in the hall closet if you’d rather take the floor,” you tell him, rolling back and pulling your knees to your chin.

“Nah,” Joel says with the groan of a near-fifty-year-old man, kicking his boots off and propping his pillows up. “We’re close enough by now.”

He pulls the flannel from his shoulders and tosses it to the end of the bed, then slips in under the covers beside you, clasping his hands on his chest. His entire body a perfectly polite distance away.

Your wrist lifts, weak and limp, and your fingers ghost across his red wine knuckles. He winces a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as you trace the curves of his hands, surfing the valleys where the bone drops, then back up to the peaks where the blood breaks from his skin.

“You didn’t have to…” you whisper. “He was just some dirtbag.”

He sniffs. Replies to you in his head, translated through the look in his eye. Wasn’t all about the dirtbag.

And you know it. Knox was just an asshole who took the hit for the last four days. Sure, he deserved it. But his big, ugly face and the uglier words which happened to tumble out of it were simply a punchbag full of sand; Joel’s fist hammering into it was as much about defending you as it was about punishing someone, anyone, the first fucker who wound up on the wrong side of him, for everything that had happened.

He's angry. At himself and at you and at this entire fucking mess. And you’re angry. At yourself and at him and at the very same thing. The two of you lie side by side in the dark, both broken and bruised and bleeding. You let out a small, pathetic sigh, and Joel echoes it.

His eyes close over and you stare at him. Stare at the faint lines on his face that slowly fade as he relaxes more, falls closer and closer to sleeping. Watch his chest slowly rising and falling, and his hands moving up and down with it. His entire body is still. Like it’s the first calm he’s had in a while. The first time he’s been able to settle.

And you stare at him. For hours, feels like. You stare at him until sleep, or alcohol, or something stronger coats over your vision and sweeps him out of focus.

----------

The wall opposite your window is lit with a single stripe of bright, nauseating orange, the sunrise staring in between your drapes. There are birds screaming outside. Your head is still throbbing and your throat feels like splintered wood and the other side of your bed is empty.

He can’t have left long ago. The mattress is still warm under the sheets he’s folded back over. His shirt is sat folded on the pillowcase.

You grab it and haul yourself out of bed – head still spinning, you trip out of your room.

He’s gotta be in the kitchen. He’ll be standing at the counter drinking a coffee, he’ll mumble a Mornin’, then pull you in and kiss the top of your head. He’ll ask how you’re feeling and if you want some breakfast. He’ll be Joel again.

“Joel…?” you call, rounding the bottom of the stairs toward the kitchen. No response.

The clock on the oven reads 5:57. The kitchen is deserted. When you loop around the island – as if he’d be crouched behind it or something – you notice an empty mug sitting in the sink, trails of black coffee at the bottom.

Your shaking hands cup around the ceramic. It’s cooling, but it’s warm.

He’s been in here.

“Joel!” you yell. Come out, now, this ain’t funny anymore.

You hear the squeak of wheels rolling to a stop outside and flee over to the living room windows, daybreak burning your eyes when you peer through the shades.

You’re frantically searching, going blind with the bright rays singeing your corneas, pacing back and forth between each window to get an angle on the street that will show you his truck. Show you him.

You don’t even notice the sound of keys in the door, or the rattle it makes as it pushes open.

“Hey, kiddo.”

You whip around. The owner of the voice lifts a hand to his puffy eyes and rubs them, yawning.

“H-hi, Dad.”

You look fucking insane. Hair all over the place, makeup haphazardly removed, Joel’s flannel shirt hanging from your fist. Wearing nothing but a long tee, a blood-seeped band-aid on your calf.

“Good night?” he says with a sleepy chuckle. “I am pooped. You want anythin’ before I head up to bed?”

You shake your head, but he’s not looking. Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“Alright, I’m gonn–”

“Where’s Joel?”

Your desperation has reached a new high. Your pride, a new low. You just want him back, don’t care who knows or thinks or suspects what. Just come back.

“Huh?”

“Joel? He brought me home and I woke up and he’s gone.”

“He – Well, I…I suppose he’ll be at work, hon. He can’t stick around here all day.” He smiles weakly, and then swivels on his heels.

“He text you?”

He sighs, his back still turned. “What has gotten into…? Here.”

Your dad twists and throws his phone toward you. It lands on the carpet at your feet. Then he turns back and begins climbing the stairs.

“See ya in a few hours.”

When he turns the corner on the landing and his footsteps fade out of earshot, you bend and your fingers clutch his phone.

He has one unread text from Joel.

You unlock the phone with a click and open up the message thread. Your half-drunk, half-sleepy eyes flit across the screen, leaning back against the arm of the couch to read every word he ever sent your dad.

Joel: She’s in bed. Sat with her for a bit to make sure she didn’t roll onto her back. She’s a little worse for wear. I got a job up in Waco I need to be at in an hour, so I gotta head.

You scroll further back.

Joel: She okay?

Joel: Sarah says she hasn’t heard from her in a few days. We can come over for dinner tonight if you reckon that might help?

Further back still.

Joel: Sure, not doing anything anyway. Sarah in Nashville. Tell her to text me when she’s ready to be picked up. Hope she enjoys her rodeo night 🤠

Joel: Table booked for 6. Get you both at 5:45. Looking forward to it.

You scroll until your eyes hurt.

Joel: No answer. She’ll be home soon I bet.

Joel: You ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? Pretty good TV

Joel: Your daughter available tonight to help me put up stuff for Sarah coming home? I fear what might happen if I attempt it myself

You read the final message, the first thing he sent your dad after you got home. Six days in. He’d driven you home from work.

Joel: No problem, wouldn’t have her walking home in the rain. Was nice to see her again. She’s a sweetheart.

You’re laid back across the couch, your legs hanging over the armrest. You drop the phone to your chest and stare up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

She’s a sweetheart.

Your throat tightens around a sob. Like a fist clenching around your neck, crushing your breath to nothing. Your eyes well, tears slowly flood across your vision and then spill over, running rapidly down to your ears and seeping into the fabric of the couch. You’re still silent. Still unable to open your mouth.

You’re doing everything you can to hold back. To stop it from happening. But your chest feels like it could burst, and your eyes are screwing shut tighter and tighter, and your body curls up like an animal succumbing to a mortal wound, and then –

Then, you break.

It forces its way from your throat, hammering against the sides of your mouth before it’s escaping, tearing away from your lips and hurtling skyward. A deep, violent exhale. Broken, and painful, and heavy.

There’s no one to hold back for. Just you, sat in your living room, clutching the flannel of a man who doesn’t want you anymore.

Your breath stammers, shudders against the palms of your hands as your fingertips massage your eyes. You’re crying like a little kid, and it’s not making you feel any better, but no matter what you do, it won’t stop.

And you don’t know why. You tell yourself that: I don’t know why I’m crying. Almost laugh when you think it through to yourself: sobbing at 6AM over someone you were sleeping with, for all of, what, four weeks? I don’t know why the fuck I’m crying.

Except – you do. You do. And you’re totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You are – fucked.

----------

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[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Tim has worked hard at least in his opinion.

Kept Batman off the deep end, rescued him from the time stream even helped to get all of the wayward sons back under dear old dad.

He keeps tabs on everyone surveillance that would make Oracle weap.

In a way he blames his mother for how he turned out she taught him that to be left blind was to be left dead.

So his big brothers little exploits into the realm of the blood suckers isn't surprising.

It is hurtful that once again he was gonna be brushed aside that Dick assumes that Tim wouldn't follow his Robin to the ends of the earth. That he wouldn't want to live by his brothers side for all of eternity.

Both Jason and Damian have already been turned they are doing a good job of hiding but none of them ever seen to remember he was a stalker first.

He watches quietly as they plot to take down Bruce he hears as they say he would have to go down too that he would never turn against Bruce.

Yes because that is all he seems to amounted to Bruce's little tag along.

Cass being turned was the last straw it was almost too easy.

A little bit of poison in coffee that Bruce took without a second thought no odor, tasteless it's league created never even shared with Damian having a working relationship with Ra's has really payed off.

He decides to take a page out of Jason's book comes to their oh so secret base with a duffle bag.

Hook.

It's funny as he walks in the shock as if they were so good he throws the bag down making eye contact with Dick the man who gave him everything and was just gonna let him rot.

"It's Bruce if you couldn't figure it out, I can't fucking believe you after everything, you didn't even try."

He can't help the tears that flow down.

"Once again compared to Jason and Damian I'm just the left overs fuck you Dick I would have done anything for you well I'm done enjoy Gotham I set it up for you don't ever speak to me again." He growls.

Line.

He turns looking each of them in the eye he sees shock, sadness, he knows how this will go he can't wait.

"Just remember I knew I could have stopped you I didn't because at the end of the day I thought you would know, that I was always your brother before Bruce's little soldier."

He leaves heading towards his bike, pounding of footsteps arms grab around him pulling him into a chest he knows better than himself.

"I never, I wasn't gonna make you choose Baby Bird I wasn't I wouldn't hurt you you saw my actual plans please Tim your my Robin."

Sinker

"I just why didn't you, I love you Dick, I'm your brother you promised me."

"We will fix this Tim, I can't thank you enough. I shouldn't have assumed, please work with us I'll make it up, you and I against the world."

"Ok"

"Let's get back in and you can explain everything you did I love you baby bird."

"I love you big bird"

Too easy.

[sorchathered]

Strip that down

Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)

Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut

Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.

“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…

“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”

He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.

You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.

He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”

“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”

He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.

“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the best crabs the bay area has to offer!

pairing: ex-husband leon x reader

cw: asshole leon, oral sex, mention of STIs, mention of degradation, leon's literally so gross and awful

summary: you and leon take the kids on vacation. leon fucks around per usual and you both find out why maryland is famous for crabs

a/n: sorry

wc: 3.8k

You and Leon got divorced years ago, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ which meant his alcohol intake and workaholic tendencies got in the way of having a functioning marriage, but he begged you for joint custody. If the courts knew the truth, they’d give you full custody. In hindsight, you were angry with yourself for letting him guilt you into that arrangement—one week at yours, the next at his. You both lived in the same school district, so it wasn’t a problem in that regard. 

You’d just picked up the kids from Leon’s when they began to dish out gossip by their own volition. The little loud mouths got their loose lips from their father. 

Leon had a new “girlfriend” if you could call a woman under 25 the girlfriend of a man in his 40s. 

Your son, the older of your two children, was going on and on about some “Tara”.

“Who’s Tara?” You asked.

“Dad’s girlfriend,” he said 

“Not babysitter ‘Tara’?” 

Better not be, you thought.

“She used to be our babysitter,” he said, making you want to bang your head against the steering wheel.

Seriously, Leon? 

“She’s a whore,” your daughter said. You almost crashed the car.

“Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

“Dad.” You should’ve known.

“Don’t say that word again, it’s not a nice thing to say about someone.”

“Then why did dad say it to Tara?”

“When did he say it to Tara?”

“I heard him in his bedroom and he said it.”

Jesus Christ, you thought, I guess that’s better than him verbally abusing a woman, especially in front of his kids.

“Okay, I’ll have a talk with him about his language.”

And you did. You texted him later that night.

You: Keep it down in the bedroom.

Leon:?

You: Your daughter just told me you called your girlfriend a ‘whore’. Very classy, Leon.

Leon: mad that I have a sex life?

You: Quit acting like a teenager. I could not care less about your sex life so long as you keep it away from my daughter.

Leon: u mean our daughter?

You: For now. You better learn to grow up if you want to keep it that way.

Leon: is that a threat? or is it menopause talking?”

You: Act your age not your girlfriend’s age.

Leon sent an eye-rolling emoji and that was the end of your chat.

You ended up sipping a margarita next to Leon at a tacky beach bar. He was still so damn persuasive even post-divorce. 

“How’s Tara?” you asked after the alcohol had given you a bit of a buzz. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Left you for a man her own age?”

“Funny. I broke it off, actually.”

“Why? Was she getting too old? Got her first period and you couldn’t handle it?”

“Ha ha. She wanted to get serious, and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life right now. My blood pressure is high enough.”

“You’re just hooking up with women shamelessly? With your kids around?”

“I’m not just ‘hooking up’. At least, not when I have the kids.”

“Mommy!” your daughter called. 

“Hold this,” you said, handing your drink to Leon, “I trust you won’t spike it.”

“Won’t need to, sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 

You covered your hand from your kids to flip him off as you walked out onto the sand to look at the shells your daughter had found you. 

Leon took a good look at your ass in your swimsuit. 

“Damn, mama’s still got it,” he said to himself. 

A younger, blonder woman came over to talk to him. The prey stalked the predator, how unusual. 

“Sitting all alone?” she said in that voice. 

“At the moment,” he said, “My ex wife’s out there.” he pointed to you playing with the kids. 

“Ex?”

“Correct.”

“Are those your kids?”

“Uh-huh. The only good things she gave me.”

Though she was pretty good at giving head too, he thought. He began to miss it. 

When you walked back to your seat, Leon handed you your drink, and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I kept it safe for you.”

“Don’t ‘babe’, me,” you say sitting down.

“Why not? I thought you liked that.”

“When we were married. But, I don’t want my ex-husband calling me pet names.”

“‘Kay, babe.” You looked over to tell him off and he winked at you.

“I hate you,” you said. 

“No you don’t,” Leon said, walking off to God knows where.

You spied Leon snaking his arm around a pretty girl’s waist at the bar. The bartender ID’d her, though Leon got out his credit card, so you knew he was paying. He flashed his platinum American Express like Patrick Bateman and a part of you thought about how gross and pathetic he was for hitting on college-aged chicks as a middle-aged man, but the other part of you remembered that you didn’t get ID’d at the bar, and you began to search up plastic surgeons in your area.

He brought new Tara, who was actually named Kelly, over to your shared seating area. This new girl and the last were ostensibly the same – too young for him, great body, bimbo-ish.

You couldn’t hate her. She was sweet girl. Lacking in brain cells, but sweet. Leon left the two of you alone for a moment. He seemed torn between saying something euphemistic and polite to her and something more vulgar to you.

He settled on, “Uh, I’ve gotta go see a man about a horse.”

Kelly seemed to think it was funny, but it might just be the way he smiled when he walked away. You weren’t drunk enough to think he looked like anything other than a complete dumbass.

“Is he always this cute?”

“No, he’s on his best behavior right now.” Because you told him to be (and yet his best behavior was still a bit sleazy).

You figured Leon might be up to some other shenanigans because you didn’t see him for quite some time. Your kids came and went, showing you the things they found on the beach. They seemed to be unphased by this random woman you were sitting with – granted, she was good with kids. Maybe she’s a babysitter, too, you thought. It made you wonder how many girls Leon was bringing home while your kids were with him.

“You’re such a great mom,” Kelly told you. 

“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” You were genuinely flattered. It was hard being the strict parent, a role you were forced to take on when you decided to procreate with Leon S. Kennedy.

“I hope one day I’ll be as good as you are.” You wanted to tell her that she could be, but not with Leon as a father. Not because you were possessive, but because Leon was a dickhead. You were pretty sure you caught him grabbing another woman’s ass while he was away on his errands, which turned out to include playing Keno. You were pleased to know he was being responsible with his salary.

“Hey, ladies,” Leon walked up from behind and stood between your chairs, “how’s it goin’?”

“Better before you got here,” you said. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he said, all pouty. He walked around to Kelly and whispered—loudly enough for you to hear - “hey, sexy,” and he kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, girlish. Ew. 

Leon spent a couple of days hanging out with new girl- no wonder he needed you to come on vacation with him and the kids. It was almost like having three kids, except Leon was shamelessly fucking the oldest of the three. Not in the condo you rented, of course. It didn’t matter that he was the breadwinner, he knew that you would’ve made a fuss about it in front of the kids. You probably would’ve called him a whore. Rightfully so. He was a whore.

You tried to forget about his antics and focus on the fact that your kids were happy. You spent your days walking along the boardwalk, playing skeeball at the arcade, sitting in a damp swimsuit at a local pizza chain, wiping ice cream off your kids mouths and washing sand off their feet. While Leon did whatever he pleased, as usual. This included getting a t-shirt that said “99 problems but a beach ain’t one” as well as a henna tattoo that matched Kelly’s.

The number one perk of your vacation was that it reminded you why you and Leon got divorced in the first place- Leon, his pathetic, dickish behavior. It made you forget all those nights you spent missing him. Your vibrator could never do what Leon could.

The only problem was: your vacation was scheduled for two weeks, but you only had one at that condo, the second was spent at another. You should’ve known by now that you needed to book your beach rentals earlier in the season, or else you’d have to scavenge for a place with even one week available.

The first place had three rooms, so you and Leon could sleep in separate beds. The second only had two, which meant you were stuck with a roommate for the remainder of your vacation. You had secretly hoped that he would spend more time with Kelly, maybe even cozy up to some of her sorority sisters and get himself a bed at their place. But alas, Kelly’s spring break was only one week, so she had to return to school before your vacation was up.

You didn’t doubt Leon’s ability to find another girl, especially when this beach town was swimming with doppelgangers. For whatever reason, he stopped flirting with other women. You expected him to be slutting himself out to every waitress at Seacrets, aka the bay’s tackiest bar. Maybe he really liked this girl, you thought. That would be laughable.

On your first night in the new place, you put your kids to bed and retired to your room with Leon.

“Think you can handle sleeping in the same bed with me for a week?” he said.

“I did it for years. I think I can do a week.”

“But that was when we used to make sweet, passionate love and fall asleep in each other’s arms,” he said dramatically. 

“Yeah, well, too bad you and Tara are over because I bet she’d give you that.”

“Mm,” he hummed on his way to the bathroom, “could never do it like you, though.”

You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” he poked his head out of the bathroom door to meet your eyes and his expression, while mischievous, gave way to something genuine. 

You laughed it off, but had to hide the fact that he had you flustered. 

After a moment, you approached the bathroom door, which was cracked.

“Can I get in and brush my teeth?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

You opened the door and shared the sink with him. Even in the white light over the bathroom mirror with toothpaste on his lips, Leon looked sexy as ever. That was the one thing that never changed about him. You met his eyes in the mirror and he winked at you. Goddammit. 

When he finished brushing, he slid past you to walk back into the bedroom, placing his hand on the small of your back. It was the smallest gesture. It could even be polite, he was just squeezing past you. It was normal. But it wasn’t. It was Leon, and he could read you like a book. He was playing the same game he always had and he was winning. 

When you walked back into the room, he openly ogled you from the bed. 

“Shirtless? Really?” you asked him, a facade of displeasure across your face. 

“It’s hot as hell.” He shrugged. “Especially with you in here,” he said much lower. 

“God, you’re so cheesy,” you said, while looking through your suitcase for pj’s. 

“You love it, though.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

You did, in fact, love it. Leon only had two modi operandi: he was either cheesy as hell or a total douchebag. When you put those two together, most would see it as charming. He was the kind of guy you’d want to take home, but not to a wedding chapel. He tricked you—and himself—into marriage with phenomenal sex. If that’s all there was to life, you’d still be married. 

“Leon, I lost my pajamas.” Either you left them at the last place, which was entirely possible considering you were so caught up in corralling the kids and shoving their stuff into their tiny suitcases. Or, Leon stole them. You doubted the second one because none of your panties seemed to be missing. You knew him to be a panty thief and you doubted that he’d reformed since your divorce.

He knew you were asking to borrow clothes, but he said, “Oh? Gonna go for the panties-only look tonight then? I don’t have a problem with it.” Oh, maybe he was the pajama thief all along. Maybe he was letting you choose what pair of panties he’d get to see you wear.

“I was going to ask to borrow a t-shirt.”

“Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me.” He clicked his tongue and gave you a smug smile. 

“Are you really going to be like that?”

You knew he was being a dick, but he’d give in if you really wanted it that badly. And yet, you let him continue to try to rope you into sleeping with him. He hadn’t asked for that yet, hadn’t even really hinted at it, but that’s what he always wanted, despite being in his 40s. You’d think a man’s sex drive would’ve gone down by then. 

“We could make a deal,” he offered.

“What’s the deal?” You crossed your arms. 

“Clothes off, then we’ll talk.”

You gave him a look, pretending to be pissed, but you got down to your underwear.

“Goddamn,” he said. 

“What?” you asked, covering up a bit. The thong you wore wasn’t exciting, just a thin cotton piece of fabric in a solid color.

“I’m regretting that divorce. You look even sexier than I remember.”

“Shut up. You want me because I’m the best option you have. I’m the only woman in the room and all you know how to do is think with your dick.”

“That’s harsh. You know it’s not true, though, babe. I’d choose you over any other woman.”

“You would not.”

“I wouldn’t? Didn’t you hear me say that no one ever does it like you?”

“You said one girl doesn’t do it like me.”

“I meant all of them.” He lifted your chin. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever married. Don’t you think that says something?”

You scoffed. “So it wasn’t about love? I was just the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“It was both. The sex was great, though, you can admit it.”

He was already pulling you into bed and you were letting him. It would be less embarrassing if you were more drunk. You had two drinks. Hours ago. You were both dead fucking sober. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered into your ear. 

“Fine. If you promise not to tell, then I’ll admit it. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really? No one better in all these years?”

“Nope.”

“You must think highly of me, then. I’m flattered, really, but who knows if I’d live up to those expectations.”

“Memories, not expectations.”

“Old memories. Maybe I’m not as good as I used to be… or maybe I’m better.”

“Are you trying to proposition me?”

“I’m not trying. I am.”

“I shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not? This is probably the most wholesome sexual opportunity you’ve had in years. It’s romantic, really. We’re parents, taking the kids on vacation. It’s not like you’re some random chick from the bar. You’re the woman I married, the mother of my kids, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“I’m the only woman you’ve ever loved?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“You swear?”

“On my life,” he said, looking you in the eyes. 

“If I do this with you, you’re not going to make fun of me, or… I don’t know. You know how I am, I just don’t want you to be so flippant about it.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. How ‘bout we don’t have sex? How ‘bout I show you how I feel about you?”

You knew what he meant and you knew what he could do with his mouth. 

“How do you feel about me?” You asked. 

He cupped your cheek and leaned in close. “May I?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he kissed you. It was sweet. It wasn’t dirty at all, at first. It was tender, almost loving. 

“Lie down,” he said in between kisses, “Get comfortable.”

And you obliged. Why would you refuse a man going down on you? He kissed you from your mouth down to your stomach, stopping to play with your tits, sucking on each of them. 

“They’re so perfect,” he mumbled. 

He pressed a kiss to each one before he makes his way downward. He tugged off your panties with his teeth and began kissing your thighs. 

“Would you give me the honor -” he started. 

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head forward, urging him to get on with it.

He did as you asked and buried his face between your thighs. He has gotten better at this, you thought. You remembered a clean-shaven man who now had a five o’clock shadow. It tickled your inner thighs as his tongue ran over your folds. He sucked on your clit with meticulous reverence. 

You threw your head back and put your hands in his hair. It spurred him on further. He was the only man you’d ever known who understood the meaning of ‘don’t stop’. 

“Leon,” you moaned and he hummed in response, not taking his mouth away. “I’m so close,” you said. 

You could see his smile by the look in his eyes while his lips were occupied. His fingers curled against your g-spot and he pressed a hand on your abdomen to heighten the sensation. All the while, his tongue tended to your clit. Your orgasm hit you and you had to cover your mouth to hold back your moans. Leon didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and he’d licked up every drop you’d given him. 

He finally came up for air and you were still catching your breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” you said when he lied down next to you. 

He laughed, looking a bit proud of himself. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“Only if you want to, babe,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. 

“I wasn’t going to because I wanted to see if you could be selfless for once, but god, Leon, after that, I’d feel bad for not paying back the favor.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly accept, but you know I enjoyed myself quite a bit already. I wouldn’t call it selfless.” Yeah, that’s right: Leon was truly unable to be selfless, but at least you knew he genuinely enjoys going down on you. 

“I can tell,” you whispered, palming his hard cock. You could feel a wet spot forming already. 

“All for you,” he said.

“Why thank you,” you said as you dipped your head under the covers. 

You didn’t play the same teasing game Leon did. You made quick work of his underwear and got your mouth on his dick as quickly as you could. 

“God, I was so right,” he said, “Nobody does it like you. Not even close.” He groaned when you cup his balls. You could tell he was getting close already, so you took him as deep as you could. He had to bite his knuckles to hold back moans. 

He only took his fingers away from his mouth to warn you, panting, “Gonna come.”

You appreciated the warning, but as usual, you kept going, letting him come down your throat. Spitters are quitters.

You emerged from the covers to see his dazed expression. He smiled stupidly at you, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you said. 

“Still want that shirt?”

“I think your arms should be warm enough.”

“I think so too,” he said as he pulled you into a hug.

You laughed and covered your face. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I can’t believe I just did that. I fucking hate you, and you still got me in bed with you.”

“Maybe you don’t hate me that much, then.”

“No, I hate you even more because you’re so damn charming. And sexy. And cheesy.” Maybe that orgasm was a truth serum.

“Well, I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I’m shocked.”

“I thought I showed you how much I love you a minute ago. Do you need a little reminder?”

“I think I need a big reminder.”

“That’s my girl.”

That big reminder turned out to be a big mistake. You found that out the hard way when you and Leon spent the next morning at urgent care. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. You thought your foresight was pretty good, but the gas-station sunglasses, caked in sunscreen messed with your vision. Or maybe it was the margaritas.

“They say Maryland is the best place to get crabs, don’t they?” Leon joked with the nurse, who only seemed mildly amused.

“What does that mean? We didn’t get crabs,” your daughter said loudly on your trek back to the waiting room.

“You didn’t get crabs, honey,” Leon said.

“I thought crabs was an STD,” your son said. Luckily, he’d waited until you got into the car, saving you some of the shame.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Mason told me his mom got it.”

“Which one is Mason’s mom?” Leon asked. “Is she the one with the fake tits?”

“I dunno.”

“Wasn’t it Mason’s birthday last weekend?” you asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Yep,” Leon said, having his own revelation, “that was a great party.”

When you returned to your home away from home, you put on a movie for the kids so you could distract them while you spoke to Leon.

“We need to have a talk,” you said sternly.

“Whoa, what’s got you all crabby now?”

You pulled him by the arm into the kitchen.

“You had a fun time with Mason’s mom at that party, Leon?” You asked, one hand on the counter, the other on the island, caging him in, so he couldn’t walk away with a cute quip.

“I may have, yeah.”

You stood there, using all your mental fortitude not to slap him – not when your kids were close enough to see it. You hoped your ice-cold gaze would be enough to scare him.

“Hey, listen,” he said, gently placing his hand on your arm, “once that fancy cream we got kicks in, I’ll give you a really nice apology.”

“I would love to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of your mouth for once.”

“How ‘bout I try to spell it with my tongue?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Yes, you did.

[beanghostprincess]

Crocodad concept: Garp lied to Crocodile about his child being a stillborn (yes Garp was there at the birth, no Dragon wasn't there) and whisked newborn Luffy away before anyone could actually confirm it, which is why Crocodile didn't know his kid is Luffy until Marineford. Garp also lied to Dragon, telling him that "the mother of the child wants nothing to do with it" (Garp is a shithead,mostly because he thinks he knows best in this scenario. He doesn't but he isn't being malicious here,just extremely stupid). Mihawk helped Croc with postpartum depression-psychosis(Luffy's birth was a nightmare and immediately getting his son snatched from him and being gaslit into thinking he died fucked Crocodile up significantly) because they were old friends and Crocodile had no one he could trust at that point; which makes it so Mihawk knew about the whole Luffy clusterfuck. Buggy managed to put two and two together at some point during Cross Guild, because Garp used to complain about Crocodile's awful influence on his son to Roger (and Buggy used to eavesdrop on every single conversation Roger's ever had, post devil fruit acquisition) and there are only so many ppl running around with a hook and an affinity for reptiles, even if the genders don't match up with what he had in mind. It all comes to a head when Robin also figures it out (more like Dragon learns she was formerly allied with Crocodile during her 2 year revarmy stint and spilled the beans tearfully) and more or less threatens Crocodile into telling Luffy "because he deserves to know" and both Mihawk and Buggy back her up,effectively cornering Crocodile into telling Luffy the truth. Cue the world's most awkward and melodramatic family reunion/conversation. Dragon is also there. Luffy is confused and upset (with Garp mostly, because what he did is fucked up) and Crocodile is upset with Dragon for entrusting their infant son to his batshit unhinged father and also everything else, because what the fuck. Dragon is trying to be placating and explain himself. However 48 year old Crocodile isn't 20 something Crocodile who was easily romanced with grant gestures and great speeches so his attempts only serve to make him angrier. Ivankov is present, playing counselor, which is the only reason Crocodile doesn't attempt to kill Dragon for fucking up (poor guy didn't even do anything, but Garp isn't there so he is the one paying for his dad's arrogance).

Anyway, have a good weekend, some soap opera levels of Monkey D. DRAMA for u

WHAT THE FUCK YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS MASTERPIECE ON MY INBOX WHAT ARE YOU DOING GO WRITE A FANFIC RIGHT NOW????????????????

[beomiracles]

i was wondering if you could revisit thin walls? For the 500 mash! I’ve been dying to know what else happens between them for a while now😂. Like are there any feelings involved or is it just sex?? I gotta know😭

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... it's the way I KNEW this one was bound to come (not complaining I missed thin walls heh) hm hopefully this answers at least a few of your questions Ϟ(๑⚈ ․̫ ⚈๑)⋆

I advise any new readers to read the mini series first (even if there is room for improvement when it comes to my writing!)

cw kind of subby!gyu, very brief pussy eating (it's hard to fit much in 800 words >.<)

Beomgyu did in fact keep his end of the promise as he returned your panties that very same evening, he also took the liberty to invite himself in, comfortably flopping down on your couch with a smirk stretched wide across his lips. — What had started as spiteful banter between the two of you soon turned into a much more intimate relationship, but neither of you seemed to mind. 

A couple of weeks had passed since your first night together. Your Monday evening was drawing to an end as you stood by the sink in your small bathroom, brushing your teeth as you scrolled through your phone. Upon rinsing your toothbrush and wiping your lips with the back of your hand, a very familiar noise fills your quiet apartment. The loud thumping of a bass pounding against your thin walls, and you groan. He always did this. 

With a scowl plastered on your face, you dart for your front door as you rip it open. This time around you weren't going to let him off the hook so easily, and your fists pound against your obnoxious neighbour's door. Usually it would take him a good minute to hear your notorious knocks but today the door swings open almost immediately, revealing Beomgyu in nothing but his grey sweats. 

You don’t let your eyes linger on the familiar sight as you immediately go off on him. “What the fuck do you honestly think you’re doing?” You yell out, loud enough for the whole building to hear. But Beomgyu doesn’t reply as he reaches a hand out to immediately pull you inside, kicking the door closed as he pushes you up against it. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so sexy when you’re angry”, he groans as his lips latch onto your neck. Your mouth falls open in surprise as you blink a couple of times. “Beomgyu what the fuck!” You practically seethe as your hands push against his chest. — “Fuck say my name like that again”, he grunts as he grinds his hips against yours, his hard cock straining against his sweats, and you slowly piece together the situation before you. 

A harsh tug to his hair snaps his head from your neck as he looks at you dumbfoundedly. “That’s why you played your wack ass music, to get me here?” You scoff as he eagerly nods, lips chasing after your own in a feverish kiss. You let his mouth linger against yours for perhaps a moment too long before finally pushing him off. “You son of a bitch”, you scowl, feeling the way his cock practically jumps in his briefs at your harsh tone. 

Within seconds he’s dropped to the floor as he eagerly hikes your leg over his shoulder. “I have work tomorrow”, you begin as your hands push against his shoulders. “So?” He drawls as two of his fingers push your panties to the side, his tongue eagerly licking a stripe along your cunt, making you let out a small gasp. 

“So…we can’t– oh fucking hell”, you mutter as you push his head further between your legs, pulling a small whine from him as he eagerly laps at your cunt. His hands dig into your bare thighs as he buries his face further against you, his nose brushing your clit in such a delicious way that you almost forgot how angry you were with him. 

“Move in with me”, he suddenly moans against your folds and you freeze, unsure if you’d even heard him right. His fingers quickly replace his mouth as Beomgyu looks up from between your legs, his chin coated in a shiny layer as he licks his lips. “What..?” You stammer as you blink down at him. 

A wide smirk draws across his features as his ever mischievous eyes gleam up at you. “Move in with me”, he repeats and you bite your lip as you consider the idea. “Why? Don’t you think we live close enough already?” You ask and he shakes his head. — “Maybe”, you huff as you push his face back between your legs, making him moan against you as his tongue darts out once more. 

“Maybe if you’re good today.”

[swampstew]

Really Really

Breaking news: local cryptid @quinloki was found guilty of leaving tasty treats in my ask box. Feeding the thot after midnight. I let the whoremone monster out and it was feeling some type of way♥

Man worth 3 billion berri is still a virgin, so I threw him in the blender. Warnings: spicy; post-time skip Eustass Kid x AFAB Reader; it doesn't go all the way in :) WC: 1.2K

inspired by this gif

Impatient.                                            

Not a word typically used to describe yourself but after six long months aboard the Victoria Punk, the fierce Captain Kid had once again overlooked your playful flirting as he stormed to his workshop; a hint of red on the tips of his ears were the only sign he’d heard what you said.

You weren’t sure what his deal was – you’d never seen him hook up, not with anyone on the crew and not with anyone on islands the crew landed at. Sure he’d go into strip clubs or make out with random people at the bar from time to time but not once had you seen him spend the night off ship. Or seen a one-night stand stumble from his cabin.

It was puzzling.

A devilishly handsome, well-toned man like him had women and men swooning over him, flirting and spoiling him with compliments, drinks, and food to gain his favor. Kid didn’t always accept the tokens and he almost never accepted them from you. Food and drinks yes but flirting? Almost like it went over his spiked hair; a blush, smirk or scowl the only response he gave you.

It made you…desperate.

Was he really that disinterested or was there something else?

Someone else?

So you did what any rational person could do – you got Killer drunk and tried to weasel out information. But the son of a bitch was like a sealed vault, refused to give up anything about his best friend. And he teased you for it.

“D-you like him or something?” the blonde finally asked.

“I—” you stuttered, “I’m just wondering why! Does he not like sex or?”

Killer didn’t answer right away, swirling his cup before taking a contemplative sip from his straw. “It’s not that, so much as…” he took another sip, “He prioritizes his ambitions and dreams. That’s all.”

“What does that have to do with fucking?”

“Absolutely nothing. He just hasn’t.”

“…Hasn’t? As in had sex?”

Killer shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. That stunned you into silence.

“Really? A guy like him??”

“If you’re so interested in finding out – you should ask him yourself.”

“I’ve tried! I flirt with him, wear revealing clothes, he usually ignores me!”

Killer began coughing, putting his drink aside as he shuddered between suppressing laughter and trying to breathe.

“F-ff-ff- ahh no he doesn’t. He just pretends to.”

“WHAT?!”

“He’s not an idiot, he knows what you’re doing. But he won’t do anything about it since you’re his responsibility; unless you were to, well, be aggressively transparent.” With that, Killer left you alone in the galley.

Transparency.

And Kid’s known the whole damn time and not even acknowledged it. That was frustrating. So much so you decided to try again the next day and be as blunt as possible.

You knew his schedule by heart, you skipped breakfast to hide in his workshop. Wearing a short skirt and oversized sweater, you took a pair of scissors and got creative. Carefully snipping away at the fabric, you cut away at your outfit to expose your bra and panties, not quite getting naked, enough to be as blunt as possible about your intentions.

The sound of thudding boots growing closer suddenly made you nervous but you swallowed your anxiety and snipped the strap of your bra before tossing the scissors and turned away from the door.

“The hell are you doing in here? Why weren’t you at breakfast?" stunned to find you in his sanctuary, a place he expressly forbade anyone from.

You turned your head to the side with a pout on your face, “Didn’t want to eat. I want something else.”

Slamming the door shut, Kid removed his coat and threw it on the table before roughly grabbing your shoulder to face him. His face turned bright red as his golden eyes traveled up and down your body. Studying the way the slit up your skirt gave him a view of your panties, the way your breast threatened to spill over the edge of the cup of the destroyed bra.

You heard his breath sharply release from his lips, “What the…the fuck happened to you?”

You narrowed your eyes, “You did. This is what you’ve driven me to.”

He backed away from you with shock and surprise on his face, “I did what?!”

“I want to fuck you,” you walked towards him, hips, thighs, and breasts jiggling with each step, “I’ve tried flirting with you, dropped hints, given you a share of my loot, and literally hand fed you and you’ve NEVER reciprocated in any manner. So, is it me? Do you find me atrocious? Unfuckable?” your voice became gravelly from the internalized resentment and embarrassment you felt from the efforts you’d put in all this time. “Please, tell me. It’s killing me. If you don’t want me, I’ll stop. But just say something. Am I making a fool of myself for wanting you?”

Kid’s back hit the door, eyes wide as he listened to your rant, “I-wha-no! It’s not you, it’s…”

You stopped a few feet from him, so desperate to hear his answer. You could see the bulge outline in his pants.

“FUCK!” he snarled, smacking his own face to cover his flushed expression, fingers digging into his skin until deep red crescents marked him. “I’ve never had sex!” he finally confessed.

“Really?” you asked, not at all expecting that response. “But…why not? You’re hot as fuck!”

“I JUST HAVEN’T OKAY?!” he lashed out, making you step back from him, a little intimidated by his embarrassed rage. “I’ve got more important shit to do than fuck around and spawn a bunch of bastards,” he spat through grit teeth.

“…Condoms exist…”

“I KNOW THAT!”

Your hip clipped the table’s edge and you stumbled backwards. Before you fell, Kid grabbed your arm and pulled you up, in doing so you fell right into his bare chest. You could feel the goosebumps ripple across both your bodies from the touch but he didn’t move away.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, a bit ashamed from the confrontation, “I just needed to know if you found me attractive, at all. I’ll leave you alone.”

Still holding on to you he barked out, “Have you fucking seen yourself? Who wouldn’t be into you?!”

“Well, you? Considering you keep blowing me off,” you mumbled.

That made him laugh, “REALLY? Shit and here I thought I was being a decent Captain by not sleeping with my subordinates.”

“Really? You parroted in shock, that was surprisingly mature and unexpected. “But I’ve never seen you fuck around with anyone so I just thought—”

“Does this seem like I’m not interested?” he huffed, using his metal arm to grab your waist and pull you into him. Felt his erection against your lower belly. “Fuck me for trynna do the right thing.”

He made you walk backwards, still pressing his body into yours, “I get hard every day just looking at you. When you say cheeky shit, I have to come here and jerk off so I can fucking think clearly. You’re my biggest distraction but—” his hand ghosted up your arm to caress your cheek with surprising gentleness, “—I’ve never not been attracted to you.”

“Oh,” you hummed, still as stone to preserve the moment.

With a click of his tongue, Kid grabbed your chin and planted a wet kiss on you.

Your eyes were crossed from the feeling, lost in a haze as you felt him swing your body around until you were pushed back on top of his coat. The withdrawal of his touch brought you to reality, mouth gaping as he stood in front of you but did not initiate further contact.

“Show me what you like,” he rasped out. “Touch yourself. Teach me what to do.”

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: Pain... when it sucks, it really sucks hard. (my life)

Today N. came home. After 3 months abroad, he was back with me/us. However, N. was a little disappointed. Our Baby didn’t feel comfortable with him. He didn’t see him for 3 months. He was a stranger to our son. But later in the evening, when we were in bed together, our little one seemed to slowly understand, that Nico belongs to us. He didn’t cry anymore when N. tried to hug or hold him. He even seemed to enjoy it a bit. ❤️

Nico: I missed you both sm. I was hoping he’d remember me.😟

Me: You have to give him some time. He was only one day old when you left. And look at him, he likes you.

Nico: He’s quiet now because you’re holding him.

Me: But something about you seems to make him curious? He’s already tired. I can tell by his eyes. Still he struggles to stay awake. He doesn’t want to fall asleep. He looks at you all the time, N.

Nico: And he won’t let go of my hand. He pulls really hard like.. he’s fighting with me. 😄 He wants me out of here, huh?

Me: Let's put him between us. 🥰

Nico: Why is he sleeping here with you in our bed?

Me: He got used to it. He screamed & cried a lot. It was easier for me to have him next to me, to calm him down or feed him.

Nico: Yea, I know. You told me. But now that he’s fine, he should learn to sleep in his own bed, babe.

Me: He’s only 3 months old!! And I still have to feed our son every 3 hours.

Nico: I’ll get up for you. I go to his bed and give him the bottle.

Me: Is he bothering you?

Nico: What about fucking? I mean, he doesn’t bother me. He’s just a Baby. He doesn’t get it anyway. But I know, you! I doubt you’ll sleep with me, as long as our Baby is lying next to us in the same bed.

Me: Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like you?🤨 ...No, I’m just kidding. Um, well! I-... Idk? It's gonna work out somehow. But tbh... here, at my parent's, it's-.... Agh, I’m afraid someone might catch us or something. Yk? I can’t even close my door! Let’s stay in the house tomorrow night. There we have at least a little more privacy.

Nico: You had a fight with your parents? We used to have sex in your room, so why not now?

Me: It was a bit tense between me and my Mom. I just don’t want to hear anymore that I’m a bad mom.😞

Nico: Did she say that to you?😠

Me: She didn't really say it, buttt I always feel like I’m doing something wrong. She said I didn’t care about Lucas. This hurt me a lot. Anyway.

Nico: I gotta get you out of here.

The next morning I woke up with a severe headache. The pain was unbearable. I knew that pain. I’ve had this kind of headache in the past. That’s why I became hooked. I had to take very strong painkillers, opiates, because nothing else helped me. And now it was back. Why the hell? I really didn’t have the strength and nerves to deal with this kind of pain, NOW. 😭😫

I got up and went to the bathroom. This pain almost drove me crazy. I was afraid I’d be as bad as I was then, in the past.

I sat down on the floor in the shower. I tried to get through it somehow. Usually, the headache stopped after an hour.

And yes, I got a bit better. That moment Nico came to me. He just woke up.

Me: Did you leave Lucas alone?

Nico: No, ofc not! I took him down to your Mom. I thought you were there too. What-

Me: Nothing! I- I’m fine. I had a bad headache.

Nico: That’s why you’re sitting.... naked in the shower? 🤨🙂

Me: Yes, exactly. When I have this severe headache, sometimes I do things that don’t make sense. Yk? Out of desperation to survive the pain somehow.

Nico: And has it helped?

Me: No, nothing helps, but I still try, because, as I said, I’m desperate and can hardly stand it.

Nico: I love you, babe. So much. 😟

Me: Love you too. 😳

A day later I had to go to the hospital. I passed out, because I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. The docs suspected that it had something to do with the c-section anesthesia? However, it was nothing serious but the pain... didn’t go away. Just as then. 😫

Previous/Next

[newtonsheffield]

hello!! can we please please see the reaction of mary and edwina meeting anthony for the first time in the surprise neddy au? I’m sure they were a little worried for kate and neddy and that he might leave them

Hello!

Yeah look, Mary and Edwina were wary of Anthony at first. They obviously don’t blame him for not being in Neddy’s life, the circumstances are what they are but I think they’re a little nervous for Kate and Neddy. They’re all worried that Neddy will get too attached and then Anthony will decide being a father isn’t really for him and Neddy’ll be worse off than never having known Anthony at all. But they’re also desperately curious about Anthony.

When Kate told them she was pregnant Edwina thought she was joking at first. Because Kate wasn’t seeing anyone and hook ups have never really been Kate’s thing honestly. They’re just curious about the kind of guy he is. And Edwina nearly bursts out laughing when she sees him in that news segment.

“So… that’s Neddy’s Dad hey?”

Kate sighed, “Yep. He was… I don’t know, he had a lot of charisma.”

Edwina scoffed, “Let’s not pretend he needed charisma to make him attractive.”

Kate groaned, “He looks a lot like Neddy actually.”

“He does look a lot like Neddy.” Edwina agreed, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell Anthony Bridgerton that he has a son.”

Edwina lowered her voice, “Do you want to talk about the fact that Neddy’s Dad is a member of the aristocracy? Because that is fucking crazy. Mum’s going to need a lie down.”

“Mum’s trying not to laugh because it makes a lot of sense.” Mary called over. “He’s handsome, Katie.”

“Why is everyone surprised Neddy’s Dad is handsome?!”

“Kate, I’m not even surprised Neddy’s Dad is white.” Edwina tutted, “That kid’s too fond of plain toast and butter.”

“It does make a lot of sense.” Kate agreed.

It’s pretty obvious from their first meeting, which is Neddy’s third or fourth time meeting Anthony, that he only wants to get to know Neddy and he’s as much right to that as anybody. They both think it’s very sweet the way Anthony’s face lights up when Neddy catches sight of him.

“Anthony!” Neddy sprinted towards him wrapping his arms tight around Anthony’s chest who’d stooped to hug him. “Gramma Mary! This is my Anthony!”

Mary waits for Anthony to straighten, Neddy on his hip now, matching smiles on their faces as he held out his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs Sharma.”

“You as well, Anthony.”

“Anthony!” Neddy gasped, “I did you a drawing! Wanna see?!”

Anthony gasped letting the boy down, “Of course I want to see. I’d love that, Buddy.”

Neddy sprinted off leaving Mary and Anthony to stare after him. Anthony took a shuddering breath.

“He’s so great. Kate did such a good job with him.”

“Kate’s an excellent mother. I’m biased of course.”

Anthony shook his head, “I’m starting to realise there might not be anything Kate’s not good at. I’m…” he trailed off. “I’ll be grateful forever for him. Probably her as well.”

After that, Mary’s not so worried about Kate and Neddy.

[tiredfox64]

Well that’s new

Prior notes: My week has been rough I tell ya and I’ve been writing fanfics just to help myself calm down. Also sorry this is projecting :P. Quick edit: we raw dogging, not proofread so probably some errors.

Pairing: Rain(MK1) x Chubby! afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, nipple play, thigh fucking, fingering (just a bit)

Not many really knew if Rain has a type. He was always so focused on his studies, his only desire was be the High Mage of Outworld. He achieved that yet there was no signs that he would really go after anything else. Basically, everyone wondered if he would ever find a lady to spend his time with. Amara was especially curious as she wanted to know if her son would ever settle down. But that was never on his mind. He had to stay focused on being High Mage and looking good for Outworld.

That was until you walked in with the rest of the Earthrealmers.

You were not there to fight, more of like support and to help out just in case. You’ve helped out Liu Kang for a long time now. You basically started when he first got Johnny, Kenshi, Raiden, and Kung Lao together. And you have truly been a big help with making sure everyone was patched up and ready for whatever. But there was something about you that made Rain’s dislike for Earthrealmer go down just a bit. What was it? He’s not sure yet. He needs to test and experiment to find out.

Rain kept a close eye on you during the tournament. Your body was definitely different than all the other women he has seen in Outworld. You had a pudgy belly which he was surprised to realize it didn’t deter him. Though with that pudgy belly came so much more. Wide hips that looked so nice to grab. Thick, plush thighs that any man would be happy to lay his head on. And those breasts…oh wow. Something came over Rain which made his face heat up and he had to back away from everything. Never before did he ever wanna put his face between a nice pair of breasts before. Yours might be the only nice pair he has seen. So round and like they belong in his hands. Yup, I think he found out what he is attracted to.

Rain had no clue why all that was so attractive and in a way he didn’t really care anymore. Now he was curious on how you felt. It felt wrong. It felt like Rain was abandoning his realm for some girl. It’s not that serious, there are probably plenty of Outworlders who have messed with Earthrealmers, right? Well if Johnny keeps flirting with every girl he sees and is trying to get into Princess Kitana’s pants he doesn’t see why he can’t do the same. He will just be more respectful.

When he heard Empress Sindel make the announcement about the evening banquet he found that to be a perfect time to go up to you. When the time did come he was quick to find you. Immediately he introduced himself to you and only you. He basically ignored every other Earthrealmer that was with you. You were confused at first but wanted to be polite and introduced yourself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said before he took your hand and kissed it. You’re already hooked.

Rain wasn’t a charmer or anything. He never flirts or chase women. He tried his hardest with you. All he had to do was listen to you and talk to you. What more could you ask for? You sat across from him at the banquet and almost forgot to eat just because you enjoyed talking to him. He actually enjoyed talking to you too. Finding out what your purpose was, what your life is like, and seeing your personality shine through. It made him feel less guilty for what he was planning to do.

Even when the night ended on a sour note with Shao’s little outburst that still didn’t stop Rain from pursuing you. When everyone was leaving he took you to the side and asked you to meet him in his chambers. He’ll sneak you in and you two can do you know what. You were pretty shocked and your cheeks started to burn you heard that. You’re not one for hook ups or one night stands but…ah screw it. You won’t ever return to Outworld after this. It can’t hurt to leave your mark somewhere. Plus, you did find Rain incredibly handsome and he managed to charm you which isn’t easy. So why not, you deserve to have some fun.

You did just that, being all sneaky just to get dicked down. How promiscuous. It wasn’t difficult for Rain to sneak you in. When he got you into his room he was immediately on you. His lips captured yours. He wasn’t rough but he was hungry for you. He brought you close to his body and had one of his arm wrap around your waist. His other hand went to grab a handful of your ass which made you flinch a little. Rain definitely likes the feel of your ass, giving it a nice squeeze. He doesn’t think he can wait any longer and neither can you.

You got a little nervous when he brought you closer to his bed. You don’t think he is stupid and can’t handle your body. Hell, you already suspect that’s why he was going after you. But you just can’t help but be a little concerned.

“Are you sure you wanna do this with me? I’m a little surprised you do.” You said

For a second Rain just stares at you and you almost think he is contemplating about actually having sex with you.

“Like I’d ever regret anything I do. I’m very certain about this.” He didn’t hesitate to start taking his clothes. Well you heard him, start stripping!

You took your clothes off slowly until you were only left in your bra and underwear. The way your bra held onto your breasts and the way your underwear hugged your hips drove Rain crazy. When he pulled you onto the bed his hands were already on you again. Hands grabbing at your thighs and ass while his face starts to nuzzle into your breasts. You’ve never seen a man so desperate to place his face right between there.

Rain already came to the conclusion that everything about you excites him yet calms in. His mind grows empty with the only knowledge being where his face is and where his hands are. This man was in a tranquil state and you could almost find it cute. That is until you feel something poking at your thigh. Somebody’s excited.

You decide to be a little brave and finally take your bra off. Rain pulled away from you and stared in awe. He was ready to grab at them. You also took off your underwear before lying down on his bed. When Rain saw how your breasts would jiggle slightly whenever you did anything made his eyes widen. It was necessary that he gets a feel of them. He basically pounced on you, his hands grabbing at your breasts and feeling their softness. His lips latched onto one of your nipples which his fingers started to play with the other one. He sucked on it, having his tongue slide over it and swirl around it. It made you shiver and caused a whimper to escape your lips.

The longer he did that the wetter you got. When his hand snuck down between your legs he was surprised at how wet it was. He even managed to slip his fingers inside of you easily, earning him a moan from you. Your breathing grew heavier and his fingers kept pumping into you. You are very ready for him.

His fingers slipped out and you were left empty. The feeling was replaced down there when you felt the tip of his cock going up and down your pussy. You felt it tap against your clit, exciting you even more. Once it was coated from your wetness you felt his cock being pushed into you, inch by inch.

Rain couldn’t hold himself back from groaning. You felt so warm. Your pussy kept squeezing his cock as you got used to it. He took it slow at first as he wanted to make it last. He would go until only his tip was inside of you before slowly thrusting back into you. It made your eyes roll back and you wanted to beg him for more. Luckily for you, this man wanted more as well. His hands went to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back that your knees were near your head. This thrust became rougher and faster. Oh you were struggling to stay quiet.

Your hand went up to cover your mouth, muffling your moans but not silencing them. The angle Rain had you at made it feel like his cock was going deep. He was hitting that sweet spot to the point you were feeling it in your stomach. That pure ecstasy feeling that pulsated inside of you each time he thrusted in. And the view that Rain had was lovely. Watching as your breasts bounced a little and your belly jiggle was something he won’t ever forget. He found it adorable that you had to cover your mouth just to prevent anyone from hearing you two. Your mind was slipping away from you and your only focus was the cock that was being rammed into you. No thoughts about returning to Liu Kang, no concerns about how the other Earthrealmers are doing. Just how Rain was turning your brain into mush.

Rain got close to you again and pressed his body against yours. You could hear more clearly now the noises he was making. Low grunts and heavy breathing. They slowly turned into whimpers as you recognized he was getting close judging by the little twitching his cock did inside you. You can only hop that he last a little longer just so you can cum.

“Please…just a little more…keep going.” You begged him.

He just nodded as he focused on not cumming inside of you. That would just be foolish. Just a few…more…strokes…and-

If Rain wasn’t holding onto your thighs before you would have certainly wrapped them around his waist. Your head went back into the pillows as you used both hands to cover your mouth. Your moans were clear to him. He could feel your pussy pulsate around his cock, just proving more to him how good he made you feel. The feeling of cumming on his cock was way better than when you would just use your fingers. And although Rain would have loved to keep his cock inside your warm pussy he knew he was about to cum soon. He made the decision to pull out and take hold of your thighs again. He placed his cock right between your thighs, almost immediately cumming when he felt them surround it. He thrusted harsher in between your thighs before you heard a string of whimpers and something warm hitting your body. His cum splatted against your thighs, stomach, and even some got close to your breasts. It was a sight to behold. You and Rain were left breathing heavily and recovering from the orgasm you both experienced.

He was a gentleman and helped clean you up. He never would have imagined he would use his water magic to help clean cum off of someone but it was useful. Once he was done he went laid down beside you.

“Well, how was that?” Rain asked as if he didn’t know he just made you feel amazing.

“Do I even need to say anything?” You joked which did make him chuckle.

“If you liked it so much perhaps you should visit Outworld more often. I would be delighted to host you and show you around.”

“Imma have to beg Lord Liu Kang to allow me back. I don’t mind doing that if that means I get another experience with a man like you.”

So it’s set. You don’t care if you have to beg on your knees you will come back to Outworld. Rain is more than pleased to have you come back, finding you to be just the right woman he wants. As you both cuddle together, his face right between your breasts again as you both succumb to sleep, you had a lot to plan.

My advice? Being a few condoms with you. No, not a few, a lot. You’re gonna need to say safe and prepared on your multiple trips to Outworld.

After notes: I said I would do it and I did. This is my first time ever posting my work. I hope to make some people happy and like I said before this is kind of projecting but for my other works I’ll try not to do that. This man just needs some love and I am here to show it. Also this was originally a request I had for someone that I sent in but then I felt bad for doing it. So I guess if they ever do it well whoops I don’t need it no more. Anyways I might even post this on AO3 cause I don’t see much on there for him either. Adiós!

[xomakara]

The Man Next Door

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | San is your brother’s friend and your next door neighbor. Despite the constant bickering, you can’t deny the attraction between you both.

PAIRING | San/Reader

GENRE | non-idol!San, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex

RATING | Mature

LENGTH | 4602 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi and hello. Enjoy~

"Can you stop that infernal noise?!" You pounded on your neighbor's door as you heard the sound of power tools once again. The banging went on and on. "Damn it, I've asked you a dozen times to turn down your shi..."

The door burst open, your angry glare landing on a grinning face. "You know, Y/N, I don't say shit about the noises you make when you're working on your remo..."

You cut him off before he could finish. "I want it quiet! And I mean really quiet!"

"Well, damn." He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned against the doorframe, obviously amused. "And here I thought you were going to storm into my place and grab my tools."

You let out a groan and ran a hand through your hair. "You're so annoying San. If I wasn't so pissed off at that loud ass thing over there I would kick your fucking ass."

He burst out laughing. "See? You like me after all. What if I said no?"

"Can we not?" You let out a sigh. "Please, can I have some quiet?"

"Why? You have a guy over or something?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing you didn't get a date often enough for anything like that to be true.

"What's it to you, huh? Jealous?" Your mouth twitched up slightly as you tried to hold back a smile.

"Hell no, I'm just curious, is all." He held up his hands defensively. "So who is he? Your boyfriend?"

"Fuck off, San." You rolled your eyes. "But if you wanted to know, my parents are visiting me and I would appreciate it if you kept the noise to a minimum. Once my parents leave, then we can start our bickering like usual."

"Is that a promise?" His eyes glinted mischievously.

"Fine."

He gave you one last leer before turning around and closing the door behind him. You made your way back to your condo next door, your parents curiously giving you looks from the living room where they sat watching TV.

"Is everything alright with your neighbors?" Your mom inquired as she took a sip of her tea.

"Sorry about that. San is remodeling his place right now." You replied, your cheeks growing hot as your dad snorted softly.

"How romantic." Your mother commented wryly.

"Mom, please." You rolled your eyes and waved your hands at them. "He's like the most irritating person ever and-"

"You're still arguing with him, Y/N?" Your brother walked out of the bathroom. Seonghwa gave you a strange look before taking a seat next to your mom.

"Seonghwa, I swear I am going to kill that man." You mumbled angrily as you rubbed the bridge of your nose. "Of all people, how did your friend end up being my neighbor?"

"It's destiny." Your brother replied cheerfully, causing both of your parents to laugh. "It was meant to be. You two should go out together. There's nothing wrong with trying."

"Mom! Tell Seonghwa to stop it." You glared at your mother.

She giggled as she continued talking to Seonghwa. "Yes, love. Your sister and San should get together. How many times has he looked at her?"

"A lot." Seonghwa smiled as he watched your face grow redder.

You groaned as you got out of your chair and headed towards the kitchen. "I hate my life sometimes."

"Oh come on. If you hate the thought of going out with San, then why don't you just find an actual boyfriend?" Seonghwa pulled you back by the waistband of your pants. Your mouth fell open as your gaze landed on your brother. He gave you a smirk as he started pulling you back towards the couch. "I think Yeosang is single..."

You turned to your parents. "Mom, Dad. Please tell your precious son to stop hooking me up with his friends. It's getting old and I swear I will hit him if he tries this again."

Your parents chuckled as they shook their heads at you. They knew that your brother was just doing it because he loved you. He didn't care if you ended up liking them or not. All he cared about was that you found someone special to spend time with and make memories with.

They weren't stupid though. After all, you hadn't dated anyone seriously since breaking up with your first serious boyfriend. If he wanted you to settle down soon, then it only made sense that he'd try to set you up with a good looking guy with good family values. One that wouldn't cheat on you or be too needy. That's what your brother had always told you.

San.

Despite him irritating you to no end, he was a good guy. A kind-hearted person that would never intentionally hurt another person. You knew that because even when he was teasing you mercilessly, you couldn't help but see the soft side of him. It was impossible not to, especially when he was being sweet. And sure, you couldn't deny being insanely attracted to him either. His voice, those ridiculously perfect lips, his gorgeous eyes... Everything about him screamed sexy, and the way he treated you when you were alone with him made you weak in the knees.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Seonghwa placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah. Just give me a second." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Opening your eyes again, you looked up at your brother. "Do you think it's a bad idea to ask him out?"

"Oh? Do you perhaps like San?" He raised an eyebrow, and then started to laugh as he saw the look of horror cross your face. "Kidding, Y/N! Of course you do. I don't think he'll mind the fact that you've been crushing on him since high school."

"I have not been crushing on him since high school!" You exclaimed defensively.

"Uh huh. Tell yourself that. Because I'm pretty sure he noticed." Seonghwa chuckled. "Do you have dreams about him too?"

"Stop it." You groaned.

"No really. I won't stop until you admit it." Seonghwa smirked.

"I'm going to punch you in the face when Mom and Dad aren't around." You grumbled, glaring at your brother.

"So...?" He grinned mischievously. "What are you going to do?"

You groaned as you got out of the couch. "Mom, Dad. Don't stop me when I throttle my own brother. Seriously."

They laughed as you stalked towards the door. Grabbing your phone off the counter, you slammed the door behind you and headed towards San's place next door. San was outside washing his car when you walked out. His head shot up when he saw you standing there, and you immediately felt your face heat up. God, it was hard not to blush every time he caught your eye. As much as you hated admitting it, San was incredibly attractive. But even more than his appearance, it was his personality that got you. His humor, his kindness, and the way he teased you constantly...

God, you wished you were less awkward around him. You spent so much time daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss him and spend the night in bed with him, that it had become difficult to function normally around him, hence the bickering with him over the years.

"You okay there, Y/N?" He spoke softly as he came closer to you.

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. "It's nothing. Just Seonghwa being annoying as always."

"Ah, Seonghwa." San let out a laugh. "Trying to matchmake yet again?"

"Shut up." You muttered under your breath.

His smile grew wider as he moved in front of you. "Who was it this time? Jongho? Mingi?"

You shook your head. "Yeosang."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Really, really." You sighed. "I told Seonghwa that I'll beat him up the next time he tries to butt into my love life. So that means I owe him a beating."

San cocked his head to the side as he studied you. "Hmm... A chance to hit Seonghwa for you. That does sound fun."

"Feel free to beat him up. He is your friend after all." You shrugged and shook your head. "Anyway, I came here for something else. Seonghwa won't leave me alone unless I ask you this...Do you...Uhm...Think it's a bad idea to ask you out?"

His smile grew bigger as he pulled you close to him. "Oh my god, I can't believe I have to hear you asking me this question already. We've been friends for years, what makes you think it's a bad idea?"

You frowned and bit your lip. "I just feel like it might cause problems between us... Ugh." You huffed and looked away from him. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."

"It's fine. Really." He placed a gentle finger under your chin and gently tilted your head upwards. "It's perfectly normal to want to ask a friend out. And I know you like to look at me when you think no one's around. Even if you pretend you don't, I know you do."

"I swear one of these days I'm going to beat you up instead of Seonghwa." You mumbled as you stared into his eyes.

He let out a laugh. "Are you going to start fighting everyone you meet now? It's cute. Kinda."

You blushed slightly and quickly looked away. "Stop flirting with me. You're making me lose focus."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He winked at you before releasing your chin and stepping away.

You crossed your arms and glared at him. "So... Will you go out with me?"

"Maybe." He smiled cheekily.

Your jaw dropped and you widen your eyes. Was that a yes? "W-what?!"

"Shh. Be patient." He winked at you. "Just wait for my answer."

"But-"

"One. More. Minute." He smiled. "And then you can say whatever you want."

"Seriously, you guys need to just make out already." An annoyed voice called from inside the house. "You two drive me crazy sometimes."

"Oh, dear God." You mumbled under your breath. "Seonghwa is coming out now."

"Hello, loverboy." Seonghwa laughed as he walked out of your condo. He patted San on the back. "I take it that my crazy, violent sister asked you out?"

"Yeah. She kinda did." San chuckled, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"Well, I suppose it's better late than never." Seonghwa smirked. "Still though, it's about time you guys went out."

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. Seonghwa wasn't exactly wrong. In fact, he was right. You had gone out with your friends and tried dating other people without success. But honestly, there was something missing in those relationships. Something that you felt only with San. Sure, he was a huge flirt, and he was usually joking around whenever he saw you. But it was more than that. You could always tell how genuinely happy he was to see you. How excited he was when he saw you smile. And his caring nature... He put you first in everything. Always putting you before himself. He always wanted to make sure you were safe and taken care of, before thinking of his own needs.

The fact that he was super hot didn't hurt either.

You squeezed San's fingers tightly, wanting to convey to him how much you cared about him. You also wanted to show him how happy you were that he agreed to go out with you. For some reason, you felt nervous that he might say no, despite the fact that you both knew you wanted each other. You knew he liked you. Hell, you liked him too. He was the only person who seemed to understand you, who knew how to push your buttons and get under your skin.

"Y/N, why are you squeezing my hand so tight?" San laughed.

"I'm not." You mumbled, slowly letting go of his hand.

Seonghwa burst out laughing. "Sure you are."

"Ha ha." You smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with this very handsome man." You turned to San and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm going to show you how to properly kiss later." San laughed, his arms snaking around your waist.

You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Can't wait."

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were relaxing on the couch while watching a movie with San. You had to admit that you felt a bit nervous being wrapped in his arms, but you couldn't deny the butterflies flying around in your stomach every time he touched you.

"Are you feeling alright?" San asked you softly. You hummed in response and looked away. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Do you really want to know?" You rolled your eyes playfully. "It's like I've lost my mind or something."

"Losing your mind doesn't mean that you've lost your ability to speak." He lightly poked you in the nose.

"And yet you still manage to insult me, Choi San." You snorted. "Fine. I'm just freaking out."

"Why?" He asked, concerned.

"Because..." You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "There are so many things I'd like to do with you...Things I've fantasized about doing since high school."

"Oh? What kind of things?" He smirked.

You bit your lip nervously. "Like...kissing you senseless. And sleeping in your arms all night. And waking up next to you... You get the picture."

He leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. "Okay, okay. I'll make all of those things come true."

Your heart started racing as he pulled back and held your gaze. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he quickly moved away, giving you a smile instead. You couldn't help but frown a bit. Ever since you agreed to go with San, he had yet to really kiss you and you weren't sure why. Sure you, kissed. A peck here and there but it wasn't nearly enough. You longed for the moment when he finally did kiss you, fully and passionately. But so far, he had refrained from even trying. Maybe you were expecting too much. Perhaps you should just go with the flow. Let things happen naturally.

Right?

Later that night, you found yourself in bed, staring at the ceiling.

This is stupid. I should stop thinking about him and just sleep.

You scolded yourself. You've been doing it for years and nothing bad happened, so what's stopping you now?

Sleep. You need to sleep.

Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the fact that San's face kept flashing before your eyes. You attempted to block out the memory of his soft lips touching yours, your hands running through his silky hair and the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

Focus. Sleep.

Nope.

You sat up in bed and grabbed your phone from your nightstand.

If I can't fall asleep, I may as well text him and try to talk to him. At least it will occupy my mind for a while. Right?

It only took you a couple of minutes to compose a message to San. You closed your phone and tossed it onto the bed next to you. Not two minutes later, your phone vibrated and you jumped at the unexpected sound. Picking up your phone, you read San's reply.

San: What did you want to talk about? Can't sleep? I'll hold your hand until you doze off.

A goofy grin spread across your face as you read his reply. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name and it was difficult to suppress the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Before you realized it, you were typing another message to him:

You: Hard to sleep when all I could think about is kissing you senseless. Tried to count sheep. Didn't work.

Minutes passed and you got a notification telling you that San replied. You hurriedly unlocked your phone and opened his message.

San: What else were you thinking about? Want to share them with me?

You reread his message and a wide smile appeared on your face. It only took you seconds to type it out.

You: Weird thoughts of you.

San's reply came almost instantly. Your cheeks flushed red as you stared at the screen.

San: What kind of thoughts? Sexy ones?

Before you knew it, you typed out another message.

You: Want to know what they were about?

San immediately replied. His response made you blush again. Your breathing picked up as you stared at your phone, waiting for his response.

San: Give me details. Now.

Slowly moving your thumbs, you typed out your reply.

You: Thoughts of your fingers running down my body. Fingers that would eventually find their way inside me.

A few minutes passed before you received a reply. You peeked at your phone anxiously, wondering if he was done responding. When the message alert popped up, you couldn't hide your surprise.

San: And in these thoughts of yours, did you like my fingers? Because I would love to use them...All over you.

Wow. Just wow. That sent chills down your spine and it took everything you had to remain focused on the topic at hand. Thinking about how good his fingers felt made you imagine how it would feel to be underneath him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as he pinned you down. Oh god, you couldn't stop thinking about it. In fact, the thought alone sent shivers down your spine. You barely noticed when San responded again.

San: Yes. You liked them. More than you ever imagined possible. I'd like to make those thoughts become reality. One day. Soon. Please?

You bit your lip, before responding.

You: Kiss me first and then I'll let you do whatever you want.

San replied a minute later.

San: Whatever I want?

And you proceeded to write the next part.

You: Whatever you want. From the way you touch me to the way you taste me.

Several moments passed and San's reply came through. Your eyes widened as you read his words.

San: Why don't we make our fantasies come true? Tonight. Come over here. Now.

Letting out a small laugh, you pushed yourself up and headed towards his place. It took you but seconds to reach his condo, but you didn't waste any time once you arrived. You knocked on the door loudly, anxious to see him. A moment later, he opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. Without saying a word, you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your body firmly against his. He returned the hug fiercely and placed his hands gently on your hips, deepening the kiss.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You pulled away and looked into his eyes. The intense look in his eyes was making you feel slightly dizzy and nervous.

"Is this okay?" You whispered softly.

He brushed your lips with a thumb. "Never knew that you wanted me this bad."

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I do. I've wanted you forever."

His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you again. You moaned in pleasure as he deepened the kiss. After several minutes, he pulled away from you and smiled. "Come in."

With one last lingering kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and entered his home. After closing the door and taking your shoes off, San pushed you gently against the wall, holding you firmly by the hips. His mouth hovered above yours as he watched you, trying to take in every little detail. Finally, he lowered his head and planted another soft kiss on your lips.

The kiss was brief, but it left you panting. You brought your hands up and pressed them against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. Slowly moving your hands up his back and around his neck, you pulled him closer to you.

"I want to do a lot more than just kiss tonight, Y/N." San said huskily.

"Yes." You whispered back. "I want to do more than just kiss too."

San's lips left yours and trailed down your jawline, leaving wet kisses along the way. Finally, he stopped at the base of your throat and slowly nipped your skin, causing you to moan softly. Leaning in, he kissed the spot where he bit you and you whimpered. "Don't make me wait anymore, Y/N."

You reached up and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in place as he continued to tease you. Slowly licking up your neck, he lingered on your pulse point and teased you with feather light kisses. "San... Please..."

As if reading your mind, he gripped your chin tightly and lifted your head. His eyes met yours and you saw desire blazing behind them. Gently brushing his lips against yours, he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. Once in the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and began undressing you as soon as he set you down on the bed. Your shirt flew across the room and landed somewhere on the floor, followed by your shorts, bra and panties. His lips pressed against your skin, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from you. You squirmed under his touch, desperately wanting more.

Suddenly, San pulled away and his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he revealed his bare chest. With one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you gazed at his muscular torso. You reached out and caressed his abs lightly, enjoying the soft feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. You pulled at the waistband of his sweats and soon had them off of him, tossing them to the side.

You didn't have to ask twice; San immediately rolled over on top of you and pressed his lips against yours. He pinned your wrists above your head, covering your body with his own as he kissed you passionately. Moans escaped from your lips as his tongue slid past your lips, plunging into your mouth. After a few moments, he pulled away and stared at you with hooded eyes.

"Do you want me, Y/N?"

"Yes." You whispered softly.

"Tell me how badly you want me."

"Very badly."

San leaned forward and sucked on your bottom lip, gently biting it before letting it go. "Good girl." He said, kissing you again.

Again, his lips left yours and moved down your jawline, leaving wet kisses on the way. He trailed his kisses lower, stopping at the hollow of your throat. His hot breath fanned across your skin as he licked your skin. His fingers suddenly clasped your breasts, squeezing them roughly. Your nipples hardened under his touch and a low moan escaped your lips. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hands, craving more.

San's hands dropped from your breasts and trailed down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. One hand trailed slowly down your thigh and pressed against your pussy, making you gasp. "You're wet, Y/N." He said in a husky voice. "You're so wet for me."

Unable to form coherent sentences, you simply nodded your head.

"Touch yourself." He commanded. Sitting up, you placed your palms on your thighs and used them to spread your legs wider. You glanced up at San and found him staring at you with lust filled eyes. "Touch yourself, baby."

With shaky hands, you tentatively touched yourself, moaning softly as you ran your fingers along your clit. You gasped at the sudden rush of pleasure that coursed through your body as you began to finger yourself. The pleasurable tingling quickly turned into a throbbing ache between your legs. When you felt the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, you slipped two fingers inside yourself, stretching your pussy wider.

"Fuck, baby." San let out a moan as he watched you pleasure yourself. "Tell me how you're feeling."

"So fucking close." You managed to say. "Please, San... I need you inside me."

"I'm not gonna make you wait much longer." San groaned. His gaze softened as he gave you a slow smile. "But for now... Let me watch you finish yourself off."

Normally when you touched yourself, it never felt like this. But the combination of watching San's eyes glaze over with desire and having him watch you touch yourself, intensified the pleasure tenfold. The pulsating ache became even stronger and before long, you felt yourself begin to tense up.

"San...I can't hold back..." You moaned, pulling your hand away from your wet pussy. You felt a burst of heat rush through your body as your orgasm ripped through your body, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. The force of your climax caused your knees to buckle and San instantly rolled over, supporting you with his arms. His gaze fell upon your flushed face, a content grin plastered on his face.

"That was beautiful, baby." San said, kissing your forehead. "God, I've been waiting all night to hear you call out my name."

"San, I need you now." You pleaded softly. "Please."

"Yeah, baby." He breathed heavily. "I know."

In an instant, he sunk into you, filling you completely. As soon as he did, your eyes fluttered closed and you held onto him tightly. The overwhelming sensation of him finally being inside you sent tremors of ecstasy coursing through your body. You cried out as he slowly thrust himself into you, setting a steady pace. Each movement was a reminder of how perfect this man was for you and how lucky you were to have him.

"Fuck, San..." You let out a moan.

He gently stroked your hair as you clung to him, murmuring loving words in your ear. Together, you rode the waves of pleasure as your bodies intertwined. Your hands grasped onto his back, relishing in the gentle contact of his skin. Every touch made your heart race faster and soon you were reaching the peak again. You moaned his name as your orgasm crashed over you, causing you to squeeze him tighter. As you neared your release, you felt San begin to shudder beneath you. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked on yours.

Slowly, he buried his face into your neck and let out a loud groan. "Y/N... Fuck... Baby... I'm gonna cum."

You tighten your grip around him, urging him on as he poured everything he had into you. For a moment, nothing else existed but you and him as your bodies clung together, relishing in the blissful afterglow. After several moments, you released his back and lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath. As your breathing slowed, you felt San's weight shift slightly, rolling over onto his side. With a smile on your face, you turned your head and nestled into his warm embrace. He pulled you closer to him and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

After several moments, he spoke softly in your ear. "Did all your thoughts and fantasies come true, Y/N?"

You laughed quietly. "Every single one."

He grinned and kissed your cheek. "Mine too."

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"Oh Boom!" Steve cheers, stepping though the plants, "Bada bing, bada boom! There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face."

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin mutters, following after him.

"Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it. Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead," Steve says, one hand on his hip as he looks up at Skull Rock.

"I concur," Eddie's voice is preceded by the thump of his landing, which causes Steve and Dustin to turn around to, "You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead."

"You son of a bitch!" a different, familiar voice shouts, and Steve watches, to his increasing horror, as Gareth rounds the rock Eddie just jumped off and beelines for Steve. He's too shocked to do anything other than watch as Gareth plants his palms to Steve's chest and shoves.

Steve goes down hard, arms pinwheeling. He hears several people call his name but the white noise his brain is generating has blocked out everything except Gareth. Gareth, who stands before him, chest heaving in his anger, hand back to his sides and fists clenched.

"Where were you!?" Gareth screams at him, and Steve can see tears threatening to fall. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Robin asks, stepping forward and into Steve's periphery. The white noise quiets just a bit as he watches Robin whip to Eddie. "Who is he?"

Eddie says something back, but Steve doesn't fully hear it before Gareth has taken a step forward, closer, pulling all his attention again and Gareth asks again, quietly, "Where were you?"

Steve swallows, looking Gareth up and down. He's dirty, much like Eddie, and not wearing shoes. Why isn't he wearing shoes? What happened to them? He looks back up to Gareth's face. To the anger he can see, is sure everyone else can see, too. But, also, to the sorrow, the fear, the hurt underneath it all. Steve opens his mouth, a thousand questions on his tongue. Where are your shoes? How did you get here? When? I tried to keep you out of this, I wanted to keep you out of this. Why are you here? But, instead, what comes out is, "I'm sorry."

Those words seem to break Gareth. A choked off sob rips from his throat and he drops to his knees, curling in on himself. Steve, always protective, moves to comfort him at the same time as Eddie does but Eddie beats him there, kneeling down to be at Gareth's side, concern etched in every line of him. Eddie places a hand on Gareth's back, near his shoulder, rubbing small, soothing circles there.

It makes something squeeze deep inside of him, to see Eddie caring for Gareth so much, even as Eddie is now glaring at Steve in defense of whatever slight he thinks Steve has caused. Or maybe he knows. Maybe Gareth told him. Told him how Steve is the worst cousin in the world, failed to protect Chrissy. Failed Gareth, too, since he's here, barefoot in the middle of the goddamn woods instead of safe in his home.

Robin's arm hooking under Steve's own breaks him from his thoughts. He lets Robin help him stand, and watches as Eddie does the same for Gareth, and for a moment, the whole forest is quiet.

But they have Dustin with them, so that doesn't last long. "Can someone explain what the hell is going on? Why's Gareth here?"

Steve doesn't even have it in himself to scold Dustin for his language.

Eddie and Gareth exchange looks, a silent communication so like how he is with Robin that it gut-punches him, and then Eddie says, "it's, uhh, quite a story."

"Start telling it, then," Nancy says gently but still with her usual no nonsense undertone.

They get a story told by both. When Eddie pauses, Gareth picks up the tale, and the vice versa. When Gareth gets choked with emotion, such as explaining that Chrissy is his cousin, Eddie takes over and explains. He says nothing about Steve, doesn't even imply he knows more, so... maybe Gareth hasn't told him Steve is also his cousin?

Then they talk about Patrick and Nancy wants to know the time, and soon it's back to dealing with the Upside Down. Something's up with Dustin's compass they have to go investigate now, and Steve thinks everyone's forgotten the weird tension of Gareth shoving him down and demanding to know where he's been.

Everyone but Robin, it seems, who hangs back to ask about it as they follow Dustin and his broken compass.

"So, how do you know Gareth?" Robin asks, uncertain.

Steve frowns at the back of Gareth's head, where he walks ahead with Dustin and Eddie. "He's my cousin."

"Oh!" Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, looking from Gareth to Steve, as if she can spot a family resemblance from the back of Gareth's head. "How did I not know that?"

"Gareth asked to pretend we weren't related when he started high school," Steve shrugs. "Was afraid it would ruin his 'street cred'."

"What a nerd."

"Right?" Steve chuckles at that and they walk in silence for a bit longer before Robin gasps like she's dying. A realization.

"Steve," she breaths out, a hand flying out to grab onto Steve's shoulder in an almost painful grip. He's so glad she's keeping quiet, as she whispers, "was Chrissy your cousin, too?"

Steve swallows and nods.

"Steve, I-"

"No. Not now. Not the time," Steve cuts her off, prying his hand from her arm. "Please, Robbie. I can't think about that now. Please."

Robin doesn't look happy about the development but she gives a nod, swallowing around the lump in her throat now.