#you know damn well he was moving to cover his face in the first gif before it cut off

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Word Count: 4.6 k

Warnings:

The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with. 

Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.

Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.

There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.

Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.

He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself. 

All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.

Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.

Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.

The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.  

Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs. 

There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.  

Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it. 

His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on. 

His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.” 

He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again. 

One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.

“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.

He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.

His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.

Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake. 

There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.

As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation. 

The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room. 

That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.

“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process. 

With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave. 

Fuck, what a way to start the day.

In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit. 

“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”

Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.

Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.

“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.

Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.

“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.    

Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more. 

Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated. 

There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth. 

Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you. 

His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.  

Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.

And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.

Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down. 

Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs. 

“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs. 

You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.

Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.” 

“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”

You’re screwed.

Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.

So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed. 

“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in. 

Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart. 

This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life. 

The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different. 

“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.

You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”

“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.  

It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.

“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened. 

You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”

You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.

He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.

His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied. 

“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”

Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.

[visionsofmagic]

day 6: roronoa zoro [cock warming]

࿓ synopsis • you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.

―❦ nsfw, opla!zoro, f!reader, reader is being needy & brat, pussy slapping, pet names, teasing, swearing, ‘is all! • 1.2k • a man that takes all my attention to himself in an instant in every type of universe; live action, manga, and anime. I chose to write for la!zoro version ‘cause why not? enjoy, hope I did everything right! [kinktober m.]

“stop moving, you're distracin' me.”

his deep voice cuts your actions of trying to stay still on his lap, adjusting your position so that your numb legs will fix, but, the struggle causes your pussy to clench around his length because of sudden movement which ends up by earning an unsteady thrust. looking at his face, hands gripping the collar of his sleeve, you see his closed eyes, trying to continue the nap he’s taking in the middle of the day.

 “sorry –“ you say, smiling innocently knowing he cannot see, “I didn’t mean to, it’s just –“ you try to find a solid word to describe the situation you’re in now but the weight of lust running through your pussy takes your brain away, wanting to break free, letting yourself go and wasting the last thirty-four minutes waste, waking zoro up, being a greedy brat – only to make him not sleep, instead, fuck you. “so much.”

you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking aloud – just fuck me already! Just move this thick cock and fill me up! – pathetic.

you’re here, sitting down on his cock, warming it, being useful.

the moment of the morning came into your mind; the crew went to bring food and new clothes to the ship, and when they left, only you and zoro were on the ship, you said ‘I wanna be useful for you’ because he’s still healing and you wanted to help – anything, you added, which was a bad idea – maybe, it wasn’t that bad though.

zoro, being a greedy boyfriend even if he tries to hide it, decided to make you a useful one – for his damn cock – to warm it up!

“so much?” he teases you, taking you back to reality, making the sensation on your pussy grow bigger each passing time, moving his hips, acting as if he just adjusts his position like you did minutes ago – only this time, it’s an act – to try you, seeing how much you can handle this. folding his arms, he opens his eyes slowly, an eyebrow is raised, questioning, “what’s so much? I even didn’t begin to fuck you, did I, doll?”

opening your legs wider, challenging him, a whimper leaves your mouth yet zoro doesn’t show any sign of being greedy to fuck you – oh, what self-control!

but you’re not done yet. “it seems you will never do,” you say, shrugging, hands on his shoulder building up to his neck, playing with the hair on his neck – the most breathtaking man you have ever seen – he’s so beautiful that you would beg anytime now but you should try first – to break him into the point in which he will let himself go and move his hips. “I know I am here for the help – to warm your cock,” you point to the sight in front of him – your pussy beautifully covering his thick cock, wetness that comes out of you soaking his veined length. “am I helping?”

opening his arms, he puts them behind his head’s back instead as he leans to the wall of the chair you’re sitting on – eyes travel from your tight pussy to your face, meeting with your innocent smile and sparkling eyes.

“u-huh,” he says, trying to understand where you’re heading with this question, because he knows you well enough to realize you want him to move, yet stubborn and prideful to beg, not until the right moment which zoro waits to arrive. “warming my cock so well that I can feel you dripping into it – hot.”

nodding to him, heat rushes to your face at the sudden compliment, making you gain a confident manner, and continue on with your act; being a fucking brat, using his jealousy to achieve your goal – you would feel bad under other circumstances but not today, not when you want him to devour you – he’s hard to resist, and you’re so greedy to be a good girl.

“anything for my crewmate,” not boyfriend – a crewmate. it takes his attention, eyes on your face, daring you to go on with piercing gazes, jaw getting tight, straight face expression that screams danger. it only turns you on further. “I will make sure to provide my service to the captain as well than because he can need – agggh – zoro –!”

your words are cut by him; raising your body up a little until his tip releases you, and then, without missing a heartbeat, putting it down on his length, thrusting into your dozy pussy, earning a scream out of your mouth.

holding his shoulder tightly, you try to stay in balance while he keeps doing that without any particular rhythm and steadiness so that you get cockdumbed mind right away – all dizzy, just moaning, feeling him shoving his dick into you, balls hitting the ass – finally!

“is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks, hands open your skirt by damaging its buttons, nearly tearing it apart, cupping the breasts through the fabric of your bra before letting them watch how they bounce in sync with your body, raising up and down on his cock with more rapid pace now – devouring you – the things you wanted for a long time. “want me to break that pussy, pretty doll – ohhh – uhmm – y/n – you – you will fuckin’ get it!”

his hands are positioned on your waist, looking down, seeing your clit getting wider with each of his hard and strong thrusts, warming it with all the juices you make – you literally soak now, close to the edge, and zoro smirks at you the moment he hears the crew entering the ship.

his possessive and rough side takes control of his mind – his soul as he picks you up, you already begin to beg for him to put his cock inside, pleases coming out of your parted pink lips that you bite so hard. you let him turning your body, abdomen touching the surface of the bed, cock’s tip resting on the entrance of your pussy, then, he slaps it with his dick, a hand finds your neck, putting your face down onto the pillow – his body hovering behind you as your ass gets higher and higher.

it feels so vulnerable to be in this position as if you’re his own fucktoy to play with, and you can’t deny the fact that even the thought of it can make you cum in an instant.

“zoro – aggh – I –“ you try to say when his dick slaps your clit once again, your body jumps – feeling both shy and shameless at the same time but he cuts you out, cock enters you in one go, jolting your body forward.

“cut it. you don’t want to waste your breath now, you will need it when I make you scream my name enough to make all the crew hear it,” he chuckles – the rings of danger echo inside your head, making you look behind and see him; standing on his knees, eyes on your face, a smirk is visible that gives chill down to your spine at the sight – his glory has one meaning – is that he will not leave this room until others – and your brat brain understands only he can have you like this.

“will make sure everyone knows who’s fuckin’ you day and night, including you, you dumb doll. should’ve learned it sooner, but, I’m always open to teaching you how to be a good fuckin' girl for me.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*

[gxthicwxrm]

My Bad, Man.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Reader

Summary: being needy for JJ while he plays video games with Pope and John B.

Warnings: implied smut, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, implied/mentions of dom!jj and sub!reader at the end

Word Count: 703 words

This is my first OBX/JJ fic. Let me know if y'all want more for the show or this character, requests are open!!! Send them in, pls. Enjoy!!

---

“Dude! Get the fucking zombie. Don’t let it kill you! POPE! That’s it. I’m not reviving you.” You hear JJ, from the living room, scream into his mic on his headset as he jams the buttons on his controller. Rubbing the towel over your legs, you finish drying your body off and grab your underwear from the bed when an idea arises. With a smirk, you drop the material back into your underwear drawer before grabbing JJ’s shirt and draping it over your torso, then walk past his spot on the couch, making your way to the kitchen. The fabric meets near your mid-thigh, barely covering your bottom as you reach for the cup from the top shelf. 

“Guys! I’ve got this generator. Protect the others!” JJ demands, focused solely on the game before him, not noticing you moving about the kitchen. Filling your glass, you walk over to JJ and sit down the glass of sweet tea on the coaster before him. The sound of the glass finally gathers J’s attention as his gaze turns to you, a sweet smile painted on his face when he notices his shirt.

“You always wear them better than me.” He says, covering his mic before he gestures for you to come to him. Leaning down, you capture his lips when you feel his hands slide past your hips to grip your ass before smacking your skin. Feeling your naked skin leads his hands to wander lower as you let his tongue invades your lips. A growl erupts from the blonde under you as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to straddle him. 

“No panties? My needy girl.” He whispers against your lips as he adjusts himself, so his growing bulge rubs against your core, earning a moan from you before his hand snakes up your chest and then grip your neck, making you grind against him harder, only the thin fabric of his boxers between the two of you. As JJ leans back and starts pulling down his boxers, Pope screams through the mic reminding JJ of the game. Neither of you realized his controller had fallen to the carpet when you straddled him, causing his character in the game to no longer to protect what he was supposed to. 

“JJ Maybank! Protect the damn generator!” Pope's yells are muffled but clear as you smirk at your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. With a nod, he removed his boxers before you gave him his controller and let him wrap his arms around your waist as he lowered you onto his cock. Biting your lip, you close your eyes as you try to focus on the feeling of him stretching you, then lay your head on JJ’s shoulder, peppering kisses along his jawline.

“Damn, you’re so perfect. You take me so well, baby.” JJ groans as you shift to wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and making you bury your face in his neck. JJ allows you time to adjust before pulling the mic back to his face.

“Shit, I’m sorry, guys. I spilled my drink and had to get a towel. My bad, man.” JJ attempts to convince them.

“Yeah. Sure. I bet you were making out with Y/N.” You could practically hear John B’s smirk through the microphone. JJ laughs, causing his hips to move, making an unexpeave your lips.

“Oh, my god! Are they fucking right now? What the fuck?” Pope' had to move the left side of his headphone, making you able to hear them better as well. 

“What? No! Never.” JJ’s holding you to him as he giggles uncontrollably.

“I’m done. You all are gross.” John B and Pope say in unison, making you and JJ laugh harder.  Once both of your friends leave the game, JJ turns off the console before tossing the controller to the other side of the couch. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” JJ’s full attention is now on you, making you bashful as you feel yourself start to submit to him as his lustful eyes look over your body before stopping on your lips, his tongue wetting his own. 

“Yes, sir.”

[norrisleclercf1]

Mini Sainz

Pairing: Dad!Carlos Sainz x Reader x Son Santi

Rating: PG

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnant reader, reader feels big because she’s so pregnant, dad carlos is adorable, fluff

Words: 2.7K

A/N: if anyone knows why I named their son, great minds think alike

"I'm a whale." You moan, annoyed, tired, just exhausted all around.

"You're not a whale. You're pregnant." Lando snickers as he walks past you, making sure you are as comfortable as someone who could be 9 months pregnant.

"Lando, I'm serious. I can't even see my own feet or anything." You whine, stabbing your fingers into your side to stop the sharp pain you feel, disappearing when you put pressure on it.

"Maybe, you shouldn't come to the Grand Prix." He ponders but stops seeing your harsh glare.

"It's his home race. Besides, I want to be around him." You huff, fixing the fan next to you.

9 months pregnant, and in Spain, it was not a good mix. It wasn't hot, just fantastic, but to you, it felt horrible. Never would you be pregnant in the spring or summer again. This was the last time.

"Yes. I know Y/n. You'll see him soon." Lando comforts you, pushing the fan closer as he watches some sign of improvement.

"Uncle Lando?" A small voice pulls Lando's attention from his best friend to his godson.

"Santiago? You should be taking your nap." Lando moves to the 5-year-old and picks him up with ease.

"Mama in pain?" He asks, resting his head in the croak of his uncle's neck, worried about his Mama.

"A little bit, buddy. But, it'll be okay when we see your Papa." The smile that covers the boy's face melts Lando making him even consider for a second having kids.

"Mama doesn't like being away from Papa. Should we call?" Lando snorts, knowing damn well that you didn't like your husband away from you this far in your pregnancy.

"No, we're about to leave anyways. Let's get you dressed, okay?" He asks the little boy nodding as Lando takes him to get dressed.

Lando returns with your first child, and you snort, seeing bright orange.

"Carlos is going to kill you." You giggle, seeing Santiago wearing a Mclaren shirt.

"Ehh, he owes me anyways. I'm taking care of a toddler and a very pissed-off pregnant you. I get the kid wearing my shirt." Lando shrugs. If you weren't so tired, you'd smack Lando into the next century.

"Help me up, you dick." You whisper, knowing Santiago is in his repeat everything he hears phase.

With ease, Lando moves beside you and helps you up, resting a hand on your back and stomach. Feeling a little thump against his hand, Lando smiles; the kid was going to be a trip.

"Alright, Sainz's, let's go!" Santiago squeals and runs to you but stops short, knowing you can't pick him up.

"Uncle Lando! Up!" Santiago declares, making the Mclaren driver smile, and you roll your eyes.

Arriving at the paddock, you wince, feeling that sharp pain again, but take a deep breath, and it goes away again. You knew you should be worried about those pains, but the baby wasn't due till the end of the month, so you still had a couple weeks before they were expected.

"Why does my family look like yours?" Santiago squeals and wiggles out of Lando's arms and rushes his father.

"Papa!" He screams, Carlos scooping him up before the little one can fall.

People liked to call Lando the second husband because he was always helping you. But he was your childhood friend, Carlos's best friend, and the godfather to your son. He was family.

"Ooh. Easy big guy." Carlos coddles, kissing his son's cheek before immediately handing him off to Lando and at your side.

"Corazón? Are you okay?" Carlos asks, seeing the discomfort on your face. But the moment he touches you, it fades away as you lean into your husband's body.

"Now I am." Carlos moves to support you on your side and walks you down to the Ferrari hospitality building.

"Why is my angel wearing a Mclaren shirt?" You snort loudly, seeing Lando chase the little boy, both matching.

"Lando dressed him. Besides, give him this one. He's staying in Spain to help us when the baby arrives." You touch Carlos's cheek, who just nods but already planning on how to switch the shirts later.

Getting to the building, you notice Santi isn't next to Lando and feel that panic, but it slams shut when you see a familiar brunette holding your son.

"No, Uncle Charles! Uncle Lando said we'd match today." Your son's cheeks puffed out; in that way, he pouts.

"You're a son of a Ferrari driver. You don't want to hurt your Papa's feelings, right?" He asks, which gets a slap on the back of his head from Lando.

"Don't manipulate the boy, you douche." While Charles lets out a string of curses, you watch the exchange, Carlos, paying no mind to keep an eye on you.

"Yeah, douche." The laughs stop as you all face a red-faced Santiago, who looks ready to cry.

"Santiago Sainz Vazquez de Castro." Wincing at Carlos's harsh tone, your son's eyes grow wide and watery.

"Apologize to Uncle Charles right now! You don't use that type of language. Do you understand me?" Santiago's bottom lip starts to wobble, and your heart breaks for your baby. Santi looked up to his father so much and rarely got in trouble with him. So when he did, this would make Santi cry.

"I'm sorry," Santi whispers, hugging Charles, who chuckles and pats the boy's back.

"It's okay, Santi. I know you didn't mean it." Charles kisses his head and sits down, dragging Lando away so Carlos can talk to his son.

Crouching down, you watch as Carlos turns Santi to look at him. They're twins, if anyone wanted to contest the father of your child, put Carlos and his side by side, and you've got a mini-adult Carlos before you.

"Santiago, why are you in trouble?" Carlos asks as Santi sniffles, wiping away his tears with his little hands.

"Because I said a bad thing to Uncle Charles." You try not to cry too. Fucking hormones. Santi rarely cried, so seeing his little face, red and tear-stained, you wanted to hold him close.

"And what do we not do?" Carlos sighs, holding Santi's tiny hands in his own.

"Say bad things that can hurt people." He mumbles, looking his father in the eyes. Carlos's tough father act breaks automatically seeing his little boy's face.

"Come here." Carlos pulls Santi into a hug and stands up, rubbing his back as Santi wraps his arms and legs around his father as best as he can.

"Let's get some cold air for your Mama, yeah?" Carlos asks, following you into the cold air.

"This is heaven." You moan, reaching a private area and sitting down as slowly as possible.

"Can we get a fan?" Carlos asks one of the workers, who eyes you and nods, going down to hunt a fan for you.

"Mama," Santiago whines, climbs onto the couch and puts his head on your stomach.

"Yeah, baby?" Fingers pushing back those gorgeous Sainz's locks, so happy he got Carlos's eyes and hair.

"Is baby being bad?" He asks, touching your stomach while Carlos sets up the fan to blow right on you.

"No. I'm just.....big." You groan, trying to stop the flash of pain on your face, but Carlos sees it anyways.

"You're not big. Stand up." Carlos helps you stand and moves to stand behind you.

Wrapping his arms below your belly, he starts to lift, and you practically melt right then and there as the weight is lifted off.

"If I could marry you again, I would." You moan, making Carlos smile, loving the pleasure that covers your face.

"Do me a favor?" You ask, Carlos nodding as he would do anything you'd ask.

"Of course, Y/n. What is it? Is it the baby? Is it time?" Mind running faster than he can keep up, but you cover his hands under your belly, soothing him instantly.

"Take Santiago with you." Carlos lets your stomach down slowly before facing you, confused as hell.

"Carlos, I can't give him the attention he needs right now. When the baby comes, we won't be able to pay much attention in the beginning. Besides, he idolizes you, Carlos. Take him to the garage, and let him sit on the pit wall. Let him run wild. Give him the best day of his life." You plead to look at your son, who watches the TV and squeals, seeing Uncle Charles beside his car.

"Santi? Want to spend the day with me?" Carlos asks; without an answer, Santiago takes off but stops and runs back. Getting on his tiptoes, he kisses your stomach and whines holding his arms up. Carlos lifts him up, and Santi kisses you before kicking his feet and taking off.

"Bye, Mama! Bye, baby! Be good!" He yells and takes off, Carlos cussing and rushing after his son.

Carlos catches up and swoops the boy up, making him squeal in delight as passersby smile at the father and son.

"Where to first, mi vida?" Carlos asks, tickling the boy, who laughs more.

"There!" Seeing the bright green that catches his eye, knowing who he wants to see.

"Want to go there?" He settles Santi in his arms and walks into the Aston Martin garage.

"Abeulo Fernando!" All the mechanics turn their heads, some laugh seeing who screamed that, as Fernando groans, hating being called that by the mini Sainz.

"Are you ever going to tell your son to stop calling me that?" Fernando asks, accepting Santi into his arms, who lays his head on his shoulder.

"No, because we all know it pisses you off." Carlos chuckles and watches how relaxed his son is.

"Where's Y/n? Has she had the baby already?" Before Carlos can answer, Santi does for his father.

"The baby is being mean to Mama. Mama said she's a whale. Uncle Lando said she wasn't but has a tummy like a whale Abeulo Fernando. Why is that?" The boy leaves the two Spaniards sputtering as he rattles off what he had heard this morning.

"Well...your little sibling is growing. Your Mama had the same tummy when you were there. But she doesn't have a whale tummy." Fernando laughs at Carlos's disbelief.

"Don't ever say she has a whale tummy. Okay, Santi?" Carlos presses, knowing the absolute mess the hormones would make you if your angel called you a whale.

"Abeulo Fernando? Are you going to win today? That'd be awesome if you did!" Lance laughs, walks past them, and claps Carlos's shoulder.

"Wearing a Mclaren shirt and wants Fernando to win. Are we sure that he's yours?" Lance laughs, making Carlos rolls his eyes and take Santi back.

"Okay, yeah, we're leaving." Carlos groans as Fernando and Lance make fun of him on the way out.

"Papa, you'd win anyways. It'd be cool for Abeulo Fernando to get the smaller win." Santi explains, Carlos promising he wouldn't cry hearing those words.

"Thank you, mi vida. Want to see Uncle Lando or Uncle Pierre?" He asks and sees his baby's eyes brighten.

"Uncle Pierre." Shocked at his choice, having thought by his reaction he'd pick Lando.

Walking closer to the paddock, Santi wiggles wanting to let down. "Okay, but hold my hand, mi vida." He urges, but Santi shakes his head no.

"I'm a big boy." He whines, and Carlos thinks this over and sighs, putting his hand on his back and leading him to Alpine.

"Well...look who is here." Pierre laughs and goes to pick up Santi like always, but the young boy steps away, confusing the French men.

"Uncle Pierre......is Kika here?" The young boy asks, face red and looking away.

"Umm.....yeah, she's over there." He points out the model watching the mechanics work on the car.

Santi takes off and tugs on Kika's pant leg, getting her attention as she melts, seeing Santi's smiling face, and picks him up.

"He picked you over Lando. If he was here, I thought he'd want to play with you and Charles. Guess...I was completely off." Carlos explains as Pierre laughs.

"Little man is growing up. Wanted to talk to Kika more than me. Actually....proud of him." Carlos glared, hating that his son already has a crush at age 5.

"Don't encourage this. Y/n will kill you." He watches Santi laugh as Kika walks around the garage and onto the pit wall so Santi can see the track.

"How is she? Charles and Lando said she looks.....ready." Pierre chooses his word carefully as Carlos is one to be very protective when it comes to you being pregnant.

"She should've stayed home, but everyone is here, so she's at the hospitality and can be somewhat comfortable," Carlos explains but stops the conversation when Santi comes running up with a smiling Kika behind him.

"Papa! Papa! Can we? Can we?" He asks as Kika pats his head and explains how she said that Pierre and her could take Santi for a couple nights when the baby arrives.

"Mi Vida, I thought you wanted to stay with Uncle Lando? It'll hurt his feelings if you change your mind." Santi ponders on it and looks at Kika.

"But...Papa.....I'm always with Uncle Lando." He whines, and Kika giggles while Pierre rolls his eyes.

"Okay, let me talk to Mama about it, and if. And I mean if she's okay with it. Uncle Pierre and Kika stay at the house with you and Uncle Lando?" He asks

Santi squeals and hugs his Papa, Kika's legs, then hugs Pierre, who smiles.

"Am I going to have to be worried about a 5-year-old stealing you now?" He asks Kika, who rolls her eyes and slaps his chest.

"Stop, he's adorable, besides it's hard to say no to those big brown eyes." Kika shrugs as Santi talks with a mechanic. Carlos checks his watch and curses, seeing he's got to get ready for the 3rd practice, and walks up to Santi, picking him up.

"Come on, Santi, we've got to go. Say, thank you to everyone." Santi yells his thanks as Carlos walks to the Ferrari garage.

Santi watched the world around him; Carlos knew his nap time was getting close, so he tried to keep the little guy awake until they reached the garage. Walking in, everyone cheers, seeing their youngest member, who just waves and buries himself into his Papa's chest.

"Alright, Mi Vida, I have to get ready now. But, I'm gonna give you to Uncle Charles. Think you can stay awake until I come back?" He asks, hoping he doesn't fall asleep.

"Yes, m big boy Papa." He whines from the movement of his Uncle Charles grabbing him.

"Try to keep him awake. If he falls asleep on you, you won't be able to escape." Carlos rushes and heads to get ready as Charles and Santi stare at each other.

"Wanna sit in my car?" He asks, seeing new energy come to the boy as he nods. Charles smiles and gently places the boy in the number 16 Ferrari as he crouches down, explaining everything.

Carlos returns and stops watching his boy be so happy to be here.

"Uncle Charles.....are Mama and Papa going to be busy with the new baby?" Carlos moves out of sight to hear what they're talking about.

"Yes, but that's why Uncle Lando, Uncle Pierre, Kika, and maybe I will be here in Spain to be with you," Charles explains, knowing Santi was brilliant and telling the truth was better for him.

"Is Papa going to be doing this with the baby too?" Santi asks, lowering his head.

"What do you mean?" Charles asks, confused about what the toddler is thinking.

"Papa and I do the races, but with the new baby.....they'll take my place," Santi whispers, and Carlos swears his heart stops as Charles takes a deep breath, unsure how to answer.

"Santi...you're me...you're Mi Vida. I promise to keep doing this with you when the new baby comes. No one..will take that away from us." Carlos promises as Santi stares at his Papa and nods his head.

"Papa?" Santi asks, making Carlos hum as he pats Charles back, who stands up next to his teammate.

"Can I take a nap now?" Carlos laughs and leans over, picking up his son.

"Yeah, Santi. You can nap now." Santi nods and lays his head on his father's shoulder before his cheeks puff out, and he falls asleep.

"He's asleep on you, man," Charles whispers, but Carlos waves him off.

"Let me enjoy this, man. He's growing up. Oh, did I tell you that he's got a crush on Kika?" Carlos asks as Charles busts out laughing. The two Ferrari drivers talking as Carlos holds his little baby close, soaking in this moment.

[roo-bi-unrestricted]

ɴ.ɴ.ɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ...

ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴏ , ᴍᴏxxɪᴇ , ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇʀ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴏ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ , ᴍᴏxxɪᴇ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ , ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇʀ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴀᴛᴇɢᴏʀʏ : ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ : ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ

ᴛʏᴘᴇ : ᴍɪɴɪ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ [2] [3]

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 1,453 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴏ

At first, Blitzo started to think that you were joking about this ' challenge ' that you had stumbled upon up in the human realm. Since Blitzo loved a good challenge, he couldn't help himself from participating.

" No Nut November? " Blitzo snickers before continuing, " Who do you think I am, ( Name )? I can last more than a month without cumming. Hell, I could even last a whole year if I really wanted to. "

I could imagine him boasting to you about how he's going to win the challenge and how easy it is for him to not cum, but not even a week in, he's struggling a bit. It doesn't make it any better how you accidentally tease him.

He can't even stare at you for too long. Seeing you come back into the I.M.P building, covered in blood with your uniform clinging to your skin, Blitzo immediately looks away from you and takes a deep breath.

He tries not to be obvious about it, but whenever you walk past him or sit next to him, he would have to move a little further from you. Blitzo even has to temporarily cancel his agreement with Stolas to avoid the prince from seducing him.

Stolas doesn't make his situation any better, either. He will send Blitzo erotic pictures and voice messages of him. It's a struggle to not jerk off to the prince and a huge challenge for Blitzo when Stolas starts to call him.

With Blitzo being a week in, he fails. He called you into his office and straight up told you to give him a blowjob. You could see his raging erection through his pants, and while you would have normally said yes, you turn him down.

The imp begins to beg you to do something to him. Anything. He was a complete wreck by the time you got to the office. You do end up reliving the poor thing, but not with the way he would want.

You give him a handjob.

You make sure to take your sweet time as you jerk him off, hearing him growling and mumbling underneath his breath, demanding you to go faster.

By the end of it, he came on his desk, staining his paperwork and making a mess. When you were finished, Blitzo quickly pulled you up onto his lap. You could hear his strangled and harsh breaths against your neck.

Fuck, you could even feel his cock right up against your ass.

" You aren't going anywhere until you help me fix this mess. I don't give a fuck if the others hear us or if they come in. You started this, now help me clean it up. "

ᴍᴏxxɪᴇ

The idea of N.N.N. came to Moxxie because of Millie. The two of you had been planning to do this to Moxxie for a while now. When telling him about the challenge, he was extremely flustered. Was this going to mess up with his work, and was it going to make him lose time on the tasks assigned to him by Blitzo?

" Millie, ( Name ) I don't know if we- I can do this.. This ' challenge ' sounds concerning, to say the least. It is too much of a risk for us to do so, and we would be wasting time. "

" Aww, come on, Moxxie!" Me and ( Name ) had been waiting for the perfect moment to try this out, and now we got the opportunity. Come on, let's just try it at least once. "

Moxxie sighs, rubbing the side of his face. He had been thinking about it. He sighs, " Alright... I'll do it. "

" Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you, Moxxie!~ " Millie gives a small kiss to Moxxie's cheek, causing the white-haired Imp to blush slightly. You give the imp couple both a kiss on the cheek before going back to the work that Loona forgot to do.

The challenge wasn't that hard for Moxxie.. well, until his boss started to make lewd comments around him, trying to make him slip up.

Millie teased him a bit, but not that much. She would always whisper what she was going to do to him once the day was done, and it was driving him insane.

" Damn, Moxxie. Is that a boner or are you happy to see me? "

Moxxie looks down at his crotch to see that he was getting a boner from just the thought of his wives. He quickly gets up and bolts into the bathroom, hearing Blitzo burst out into laughter.

While you on the other hand, would sometimes walk past him, letting your tail brush against his leg, and sometimes, letting your hand trail down his inner thigh, making the poor imp flustered as hell.

You would also tell him what you and Millie are going to do to him, which would only make his erection more visible. Moxxie is able to keep his composure and beat the challenge. Millie was quick to take you and Moxxie to bed.

When she finally got her hands on him, she had him pinned against the wall, giving him a few hickeys here and there. She takes him to bed and strips him, and the both of you begin to pleasure him.

Millie explained to him that he was going to get a huge reward for being such a good boy. Moxxie, who currently had a hard-on and was horny as hell, wanted his 'reward' as soon as possible. Seeing the two of you with two large strap-ons really does something to him.

" Fuck.. Please, I want to feel the two of you inside of me. Please, let me have my reward. "

ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇʀ

Asking Striker about participating in N.N.N was easy enough. He seemed a little confused by its concept at first but quickly agreed to do it. He even teased you a bit, never expecting you to suggest something so lewd and scandalous

" You want me to not get off to nothin' for a whole month? " He asked you, " Ya know what that means, right? That means you won't be allowed to get me off neither. " Striker has a grin of his face as he saw your face heat up with embarrassment.

" Well yeah, I guess... Sure.. " You grumble before going back to what you were doing. Striker knew that you were going to tap out long before he would. This was going to be fun... for him at least.

The challenge was easy for him. All he had to do was bury himself in a fuck-ton of work, assassinating, and not let his mind wander off. If it did, he'd just think about his job and nothing else.

You, on the other hand, weren't fairing too well. You weren't used to having to deny yourself from your lovers' touch. So when Striker would brush against you or give you a kiss, it made you hot and bothered. You missed him.

Even though he was there with you every day, he was working his ass off to avoid getting aroused. And he did a pretty good job of it. You, on the other hand, didn't. You had no idea how you were going to last a whole month without sex.

As sad as it sounded, you did your best to pleasure yourself without him catching you. When he would go off to work you'd sneak away into the bedroom and fuck yourself with the dildos he gave you. You even got the one with his cum still on it, you were that desperate.

He noticed you acting more needy lately. Striker wasn't stupid. He knew what you were doing while he was gone. He wanted to catch you in the act.

His schedule was empty, so instead, he was going to sit back and let you do the work. You were already in your shared bedroom, laying on the bed.

Striker had come into the room to see you with your legs spread wide and a dildo shoved inside of you. You didn't even realize that he was in the room, too lost in your lust. The loud sequencing noise echoes and merges with your soft moans.

" Well, well. What do we have here?" He smirked, " I wonder where this came from? " Striker chuckled as he made his way over to you, causing you to jolt up in surprise. Before you could even cover yourself up, Striker had pounced on top of you and pinned you down onto the bed.

" Couldn't wait a month without me having a bit of fun?" Striker cooed as his tail snaked its way over to your discarded sex toy, " Maybe I should punish you for breaking our little deal. " He chuckled, pulling the toy from out of you.

" You'll like that, won't ya? "

[vixen7243]

Wrong Chat

Johnny X AFAB!Reader| TF141 X AFAB!Reader

MDNI‼️

Part 1 | Part 2

Johnny getting home finally after being away from you for months and feeling feral after all the teasing photos you had sent of new lingerie which then was followed up with a damn video of you grinding on HIS pillow moaning his name. Giggling at the end when you showed him the wet spot, “Wish it was your face love.” Turning the camera up to you, you smiled sweetly, “Come home safe so you can cum in me.” Video ended to soon in his opinion, which he intends to teach you as soon as he has you in the bed, face in the pillow your sweet cunt was grinding on a fortnight ago.

“Next time ye send a sexy little video like that ye better get all of ye’s angles Bonnie.” Johnny moved your phone closer as he thrust his cock deeper you moan ripping through your throat whimpering as you gripped the pillow. “Come now Bonnie, show the camera a little love.”

Johnny moved the camera forward and had it leaning against the headboard your face main view and your ass just above your head, bouncing as Johnny continued to jackhammer into you gummy spasming walls. You cried out as you came for the 3rd time around his cock, “Johnny please cum please! I need it, oh god, there!”

Johnny groaned as he ground his hips into you, squeezing your ass cheeks before patting your hip lightly. You reached out with a shaky hand grabbing your phone stopping the video, for the 3rd time that night you were sending the video to Johnny as he had made you do to the first two videos. Due to your watery eyes and shaky hands you might have accidentally hit the group chat your boyfriend made up of you and his team for game nights and pub nights. As soon as you hit send and Johnny’s phone dinged he turned you over smiling, “Ready for round 4 Bonnie.” As Johnny started kissing a trail to you breasts his phone dinged a few more times making him freeze and look up at you noticing that your phone was recording again and propped up on your pillow aimed at your face, cock drunk and teary.

Pushing pack up he snatched his phone from the bed side table and his eyes damn near burst out his sockets, “Jesus Bonnie you sent the video to the lads.”

“Huh?”

You were so out of it that you weren’t registering his words at all, instead you wrapped your legs around his waist and whimpered.

Gaz 🚁☠️: Well ello to you too gorgeous, is this your guys way of an invite?

If so I’ll be there in 15

Ghost💀🥸: You were moaning the wrong name Love, I’ll be there in 10 to teach you how to say Simon.

Gaz🚁☠️: 10?! Wtf you know I’m already breaking speed limits to just get there in 15 not fair!🤬

Captain🐻💰: Darling, is he not enough? Tell the boy to move aside I’ll be there soon.

Johnny couldn’t remember if he had locked the front door when he had thrown you over his shoulder abruptly before rushing up the stairs to your shared room. That didn’t matter too much considering he heard the front door hit the wall when it was opened feet marching up the stairs.“Damnit Bonnie.”

When the bedroom door shoved open is when you finally got your mind clear of the fogginess and shrinked into Johnny a blush covering your cheeks. “Oops”

Part 2

[scoutswritingcorner]

It's Still You

Alastor x GN!Reader

A/n: Part two of ‘Despite Everything’ also a big thank you to my lovely Kuro (@kurosstuff)- They helped me figure this out!!

TW:Crying, talks about murder, a little screaming, angst. DONT WORRY THERE IS FLUFF I PROMISE!!

He didn’t remember when Rosie had guided him to sit down at a table, you sat across from him as Rosie had to leave to go make some tea saying something about “Needing to talk it out”. He would agree but his pride didn’t want to be bruised more than it already was. The way you won’t even look at him, of course he didn’t blame you but it still irked him to no end.

“Darling..” He started but was caught off with a loud scoff from you, “You don’t get to call me that anymore, Alastor.” You hissed venom lacing your tongue and it went right to his undead heart like a knife. He stayed silent for the first time in a long time, The Great Radio Demon was stunned silent and backed down like a kicked dog. But what made it worse was how tears started to well up in your eyes yet you didn’t acknowledge them, only looked at the wall across from you. “..Rosie told me you were still singing around here..you have your own little parlor..” He whispered out the radio effect gone from his voice, you nodded wordlessly.

He played with his cane and looked away from your face, “Why do you care? Have you ever fucking cared, Alastor?” You hissed out finally looking- no glaring at him. “Was our marriage just for show? It felt like it.” He flinched as his ears fell flat on his head at that thought of you thinking he truly didn’t love you. He showed it the best ways he could. “No no, it was never for show. I could never hurt you like that.” He calmly replied, trying not to let anyone see how upset he was at your words. No one could know The Radio Demon had a weakness.

That made you sob out and stand up collecting your things. He stood up as well reaching out for you but you moved away from his reach. “But you did. You killed me, Alastor. I did everything for you, I got the cops off your tail and covered your tracks when you were too damned tired to notice you got sloppy.” You yelled out, “I worshiped you, you were my husband, what else was I supposed to do?” Tears now falling freely down your face as your hands trembled, “I was scared of my own husband during my last moments alive.” 

He froze in place his ever lasting smile had fallen into a deep frown as he slowly walked closer to you. “That was probably my first fucking mistake in a long line of them but love makes you do crazy shit. And I truly did love you..I still do but I’m so afraid.” His shadow curled around your body as his hands finally reached to cup your face, wiping the tears away from your eyes. “I love you as well, my Songbird.” He started watching as you nuzzled into his hands, “I loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’m sorry for everything I have done..for how I’ve hurt you. You were never my target.” He whispered out, pulling you closer to his body.

“You were my everything, cher..” He leaned his forehead against yours as you let another sob rip through you. “My driving force, the person I wanted beside me at all times..could we try again? If you allow me the chance?” He asked softly, smiling as he felt your hands, your much softer hands than his, had grabbed onto his clawed ones and nodded. “I would like that, Al..I’m sorry..” 

He hummed and gently placed a kiss upon your forehead, “There is nothing to be sorry for. Tu as toujours eu mon coeur, mon petit oiseau chanteur.” He wouldn’t ruin this chance, not again. You both would run Hell side by side.

A/n: This made me fucking cry so much, I hope everyone loves it! Translation: "You always had my heart, my little songbird."

[amongemeraldclouds]

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

[aglaias-blog]

"Sleep well, my Queen"

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: This is pure smut. Porn without a plot. MDNI!!!

I felt inspired by this post, found on @hamatoanne 's blog, made me want to write again. Please be gentle with me, it's been a while 😭 anyway, have fun!

TW: afab!reader, corruption kink if you squint, somnophilia, just porn basically

Summary: Aemond wakes one morning, needing you badly. But you are fast asleep. What is he to do?

“Fuck”, he cursed under his breath, as he turned on his back, hiding his face from the sun under his arm. You were still sleeping next to him on your side, your soft body naked under the covers.

The sun rays playing on his face were the first thing that woke him up. The light that was reflecting on his sapphire eye drew colourful patterns on the wall. The warmth was pleasant, the blinding light – not so much. And then came the crushing realization that it was all a dream.

It was a dream that made him wake up with his cock already leaking precum. The dream being a continuation of what happened last night, when you gave yourself to him completely, allowing him to take control. Your body writhing beneath his, no way to escape. And yet you looked so content, so in your own blissful space, so vulnerable, so pure, so open with him - submitting yourself to him, knowing that you were completely safe…

He groaned at the thought, and he couldn’t help himself as his hand travelled down, over his chest, his abdomen and down to his cock that was laying hard on his belly. His fingers wrapped around it, hard, trying to give himself some form of relief as quickly as possible. He kept yanking at it almost angrily, but it wasn’t enough – it wasn’t enough! Fuck!

 It never was enough when he tried to pleasure himself, he always ended up frustrated! It was as if he betrayed his own body, knowing that he needed you, but still trying to find release by himself.

The exasperation was clearly written on his face. His lower lip began to swell slowly as it was trapped between his teeth and he bit down on it hard, his brow furrowed in desperation and his cheeks flushed. It was clear that this wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do, he needed more, he needed you, he needed-

He snapped around the moment he heard the moan. The moan that he was sure left your mouth. He wasn’t imagining things now, was he? He turned on his side hastily, laying one hand on your upper arm gently. Were- were you awake?

“My love?”, he tried, now slowly tracing your spine with his fingers.

No response. Just another one of those damned soft moans that he usually loved, but now he was sure they were going to drive him mad. If only you knew how badly he wanted you right now.

“Don’t do this to me…”, almost sounding pained, he threw himself back on his back, rubbing his hands over his face.

He was suffering at your hands, and you didn’t even know it! The situation was ridiculous, if he wasn’t so frustrated, he would laugh at it. Running his hand through his loose hair roughly, he tugged at the strands, his other hand buried in the sheets with his knuckles turning white.

Your soft breathing continued, but the quiet moans that kept coming from you made him wonder if you were having the same dream that he had not long ago. He remembered slowly that you two had talked about situations like this - but until now the opportunity had never presented itself, he always had to be somewhere, he always was required by somebody early in the morning, but now…If he had any doubt about taking action, the soft whine that left your body made sure to make any resolve falter. He couldn’t fight the storm that was raging inside him any longer.

“Gods”, he murmured. Turning back on his side, he brought his hand up to your shoulders and traced them gently, before moving down to let his hand slide down your sides, and over your hip. Goosebumps rose on your skin, but there was no change in your breathing pattern, no sign that you were going to wake up. And no sign that you knew what was happening. His heart was beating brutally in his chest - never had he thought that he would find this so arousing. But when his fingers finally found their way to your cunt, every thought was wiped from his mind. He bit back a moan when he realized how wet you were, your wetness already smeared between your upper thighs. It was clear now what kind of dream you were having.

His mouth found its way to your shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses there. He easily slid a finger inside, then two, groaning into your shoulder at the obscene wet sound. Pumping them in and out of you slowly, he quickly knew that you were more than prepared.

If he wasn’t so frustrated, he would be embarrassed about how desperately he wanted to be inside you. But his precum had already formed a wet spot on the bed linen and his mind was foggy with the need for you, for anything you could give him. Any thoughts about his dignity and virtues like patience were left for later. And so, not wasting anymore time, he lined himself up with you quickly, grabbing your hip gently. He couldn’t help the guttural moan that tore from his throat as he finally, finally, was sheathed deep inside you. Your wet, hot core enveloping him completely. He stayed still for a while, doing other wise would have surely made him cum embarrassingly quickly.

He fought the urge to rut into you savagely, trying to keep some form of dignity, trying to hold back, trying to prove to himself that he wasn’t doing any of this selfishly – but there was no denying it. You made him lose control. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know it. You weren’t even aware of the kind of effect you had on him.

Slowly, his hand found its place on your breast, tracing slow circles around your nipple, feeling it harden. He squeezed it hard, the flesh spilling over between his fingers. Then, his fingers slowly ran between your breasts, down over your soft stomach, further down, down, until he finally reached your clit.

He tried to be gentle when he pulled out slowly and pushed himself to the hilt inside of you again. But there was no use, the moment he felt your heat and wetness again, he couldn’t hold himself back. It was addicting.

So he slammed himself into you, over and over again, whimpering into you shoulder, praising you, although he knew that you weren’t even awake.

The moment he touched it, he felt you clench around him. Hard. And he couldn’t hold back his pathetic moan at the sensation. He wanted to feel it again and again, so, encouraged, he rubbed lazy circles around it, circles that quickly became more urgent, the more he felt you squeeze around him.

..................................................................

You awoke with your body spasming, not knowing what was happening. The hot, white pleasure you felt was almost akin to the one you felt in your dream – but this one felt so much more real. A desperate moan tore from your throat before you could realize why it even formed, and you felt him inside. Instinctively you knew it was him. Only he could reach that spot deep inside you, only he could make you shiver and tremble like this. You felt his warmth, his tall body behind you, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, his moans falling freely from his lips, his hot breath on your shoulder…

And then your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, unforeseen. It completely overwhelmed you, your body trembling so hard you thought he would slip out of you, your body searching for the sensation he gave you, but at the same time trying to escape it, it was too much, too much…

“Aemond!”, you gasped out, your hand blindly reaching for him behind you.

He heard your unsaid plea and held you close, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and stilling his movements, so that he could feel you completely, holding you in place. His angel, his only salvation, spasming on his cock; the only innocent being in his life was having no part in his doing and he almost felt guilty, like you were losing more of your innocence the more time you spent with him.

“Oh, Gods”, you heard him groan through gritted teeth, only now did you realize what was truly happening. The fogginess of sleep had left you now, the confusion you had in the beginning making place for giddiness. You had fantasized about mornings like this, but now that it was happening, you couldn’t believe it. The thrill you felt went through your body like an electric shock.

He knew now that you were awake, if your reaction and the way you held his hand in a tight grip was any indication. Your moans became louder the moment he picked up his merciless pace again, touching that sensitive spot inside you over and over and over again.

“My love – fuck, you’re going – you’re going to make me cum- please”, you heard him moan behind you, as if you were the one in control. He was the one who had his arm wrapped tightly around your torso, while his other hand now had your throat in a tight grip – and yet it felt like he gave himself over to you.

Your moans turned into desperate sobs, the moment he lost control. You were so close to the edge again, your senses heightened to the max. You felt him trembling behind you, drawing one shuddering breath after the other, trying to restrain himself, trying to keep some form of control, but his thrusts grew rougher and rougher and when he felt you clench around him, he couldn’t help himself. He came inside you with a growl, his hips thrust up into you involuntarily, spilling everything inside you, while sinking his teeth into your shoulder, trying to stifle his helpless moans. He felt you clenching down on him hard, your own whimpers and moans spilling from your mouth. His jaw went slack, engrossed in the sensation, he pressed you down on his cock to feel every squeeze of your peak, not allowing you to escape his bruising thrusts.

“Gods, you feel so good, you’re being so good for me”, praises fell from his lips, as he kept you close to his body, littering little kisses on your shoulder. “So, so good for me, princess.”

His frantic breathing slowly calmed down; he was still reveling in the aftershocks of your second orgasm.

“Holy Seven”, he groaned behind you, coming down from his high. His grip on your relaxed slowly, and he began to gently stroke your side with one hand, the other caressing your chest. You relaxed in his embrace, the weight of sleep on your eyelids.

“You did so well, my love”, he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You only hummed in return, your sleepiness catching up to you. But when he tried to pull out of you, your hips chased his to not let him slip out. You heard him chuckle lightly. “Alright, alright…”, he said, and if you only turned around, you’d have seen a cocky grin on his face.

He pulled you close by your hips again, his hand caressing them lazily.

“Sleep well, my Queen”, he whispered in your ear, before drifting off to sleep himself.

[roanniom]

The Shift

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Read Part 2 Here

Summary: On a sweltering shift at family video, Steve Harrington gets on your nerves.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, Smut, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, PIV sex, semi-public sex, light degradation, enemies to lovers, slight period-correct sexism and homophobia from a customer

It’s positively sweltering inside Family Video today. The box fan on the front counter does absolutely nothing to cool you down, especially as the tension within you runs hotter than the outside sun itself. 

You shouldn’t be here. Today was your day off and you’d had plans with your friends for a pool day to beat the heat, knowing that today was forecasted to be the hottest of the year so far. Instead, you’ve been roped in to cover for Robin. And as much as you love her, part of you kinda secretly hopes she chokes on the milkshake she’s probably enjoying on her date right about now. 

You don’t really want her to choke of course. You’ve been hyping her up for her eventual first date with Vicki for a long time now. It warms your cold, dead, perennially single heart to see your friend getting something she’s really wanted. Something she never thought would happen for her, especially not in Hawkins, Indiana. 

But Hawkins, Indiana is exactly where you wish you weren’t right now. You’d rather be somewhere cool. Somewhere with ice and a breeze and fresh air. 

Somewhere without Steve Harrington. 

“You’ve been hogging the fan all day, trainee. Come on, give another sweaty bastard a turn.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn and glare directly into the face of your nemesis. Okay, nemesis is a little bit of an exaggeration. You aren’t mortal enemies, perhaps, but you would love to smack his smug face. Just once. 

“For the last time. Stop calling me that. I have been working here almost as long as you,” you huff, not bothering to move an inch out of the radius of the fan.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am the one who trained you. Making you - eternally - my trainee,” Steve responds, elbowing his way around you and into the line of semi-cool air. 

“I was literally hired a month after you.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I showed you the ropes.”

“Only because the manager spent the night passed out in the ditch behind the liquor store.” You finish reboxing your last rewound tape, clicking it closed with a definitive snap.

“Hey. Jessie’s doing really well in rehab these days. Give him a break.” Steve pulls the stocking cart up and around to the counter and reaches for the tapes you’d just stacked. You yank them away from his grasp and haul them over to the cart yourself.

“And by ‘showed you the ropes’ are you referring to the fact that you broke the label maker in front of me and taught me how to get free snacks out of the break room vending machine?” You start pushing the cart towards the comedy section, not bothering to wait for Steve’s response.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for every bag of Reese’s Pieces I see you scarfing each day.” Steve comes up jogging behind you, grabbing the copy of Weird Science out of your hand before you can shelve it.

“Shut up, Harrington. As if you aren’t slamming M&M’s by the bushel.” You try to reach for the tape but he holds it up out of your reach. Damn his stupid height. 

“Don’t you dare act like M&M’s aren’t the superior candy.” 

“They melt in your hand - ,”

“So do Reese’s Pieces!” Steve cries out, interrupting you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve. I forgot that a handful of goopy M&M’s are what helped E.T. assimilate to this planet,” you say, rolling your eyes and abandoning Weird Science to his grasp. Let him shelve the damn thing. You move on to the next aisle. 

Steve, of course, follows behind. 

“You and that stupid little alien.” Which of course makes you round on him, to which he throws Weird Science up in front of himself as a shield. 

“E.T. is a seminal piece of filmmaking and Spielberg’s best work to date, so don’t you get started again -,”

“Oh bullshit. His best work?” Steve’s brow is furrowed darkly as if you’ve committed some irredeemable act instead of simply disagreeing with his film opinions. 

“Um, excuse me? A little help here?” The voice of Ms. Jenkins, elderly and snippy, issues from the front counter where she stands with a handful of tapes. You give Steve a mean look and bound over to your solitary customer. 

“Yes of course, let me ring you up, ma’am,” you say sweetly, making quick work of checking to make sure the tapes are rewound before scanning and reading off the total to her. You always have to double check that tapes are rewound because you sure as hell can’t be certain that Steve has done his job when that particular chore is on his list of responsibilities. 

By the time Ms. Jenkins is out the door with her rentals, Steve’s pushed the cart to the shelves closest to the counter, lazily fingering the spines of the horror tapes in a bored pursuit of a particular alphabetic location. 

“Jaws.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said Jaws.”

“What about Jaws?” you ask with a sigh, leaning your hip against the counter and crossing your arms. 

“Spielberg’s best movie.”

“Grow up, Harrington.”

“Excuse me?!” Steve drops the tape he’s holding and rushes over to you with fists raised. “Are you suggesting there’s something childish about enjoying Jaws?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, noncommittal. You don’t actually believe that, you just have found yourself in this rhetorical hole with Steve before and you don’t really want to get into an actual discussion. That and you love riling him up. It’s easier than committing to a movie to pop into the vcr above the counter and just as entertaining. 

“You…I just…ughh.” Steve seems at a loss for words as he grapples with your vague criticism as if it isn’t the thousandth time you’ve had this argument. “That movie is a mature, grown up cinematic masterpiece and I can prove it. Number one,” he holds up one finger. “It is gory as hell. There’s a fuck ton of blood.”

“Violence is your evidence of maturity, Harrington?”

Steve scoffs at you and lifts up a second finger. 

“Number two, the score is iconic.” He hunches a little and starts stalking towards you slowly, predatorily. “Duuun uh, duuun uh,  dun uh dun uh dun uh - ,”

“I know the score, Steve!” you speak over his crescendoing vocalization. 

“Come on! That’s iconic!” You roll your eyes but nod. 

“I mean yeah. You got me there.”

“Ahah!” Steve punches the air as if he’s one some massive victory rather than simply receiving your noncommittal agreement on one part of a larger argument. He holds up a third finger. “And to round us out with number three - tits.”

Exactly as he says ‘tits’ - proudly and loudly, you notice - an elderly gentleman walks into the store. He freezes in the doorway looking at the two of you, clearly affronted. 

“Good afternoon, sir! Let us know if you need any help!” you hastily speak up, distancing yourself from Steve and plastering on a huge smile. The man harumphs and walks into the store, grumbling something about ‘kids these days.’ You turn and shoot daggers at a sheepish looking Steve.

“Tits? Really?” Your whisper comes out poisonous.

“What’s more mature than tits?” he asks, equally hushed. 

“Obviously not you, moron.” You start making your way back to the cart but stop in your tracks, thinking. Instead, you turn back and whisper to him. “Wait…when are there tits in Jaws?”

~*~ 

Ten minutes later, after the disapproving customer had checked out, copy of Cocoon in hand (a little on the nose, something you tried not to laugh about as you rang him up), you and Steve both stand huddled near the tv hooked up to the VCR. 

You’re watching the opening sequence, where two teens are giving each other eyes across the way at a bonfire party. It’s charged. It’s flirtatious. The girl gets up and heads towards the beach, the guy following in hot, drunken pursuit. 

It’s a cute moment. A calm before the storm, you think, because of course you know better. You know what’s going to happen in just a few moments. But suspended in time, this couple’s cat and mouse game is sexy. It’s playful. 

It’s not the point of the scene, but you  feel yourself getting riled up. Not exactly turned on but…what’s the word? Yearning? Pathetic. It’s been a little too long since you’ve gotten any and the heat is getting you your head, you reason with yourself internally. 

As the girl gets closer to the water she begins discarding her clothes in preparation for what everyone knows will be her final skinny dip. As she does so, Steve hurtles forward and hits the pause button, freezing her perfectly in time as her shirt comes over her head revealing the silhouette of heavy breasts, mid swing. 

“Tits!” Steve cries out, pointing directly at the revealed breasts on screen. “I fucking told you.”

“What do you want, Steve? A cookie?” You make sure your face stays neutral. You don’t want to give away the fact that the sexual implications of the scene have you all hot and bothered. Harrington doesn’t deserve that information. 

“You said there weren’t any tits in Jaws.”

“I asked when were there tits in Jaws. I apologize that a pair of movie breasts didn’t imprint chemically in my brain the way they did for you.” 

“I’m sorry. When did the prude switch shifts with the trainee? I didn’t get the memo.” Steve says haughtily, ejecting the tape from the VCR and putting it back in its case. Your jaw drops at his words but he pays you no mind, walking back to reshelf the movie. You run after him. 

“I’m not a fucking prude, Harrington.” 

“Oh I know you’re not. That’s what I’m getting at.” Steve slots Jaws back in its place and heads back towards the break room. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demand, hot on his trail. 

“I’m at the same parties you go to, trainee. I’m not blind. You like to have a good time.” He shrugs, walking up to the beaten old vending machine. It’s much hotter here in the back room than it was out on the main floor, probably due to the lack of windows and fans. Steve kicks the corner of the vending machine and raps his knuckles against the side panel before reaching to type the code for the M&M’s. You lunge forward and beat him to it, slamming your finger down on a different button. “Fuck! Seriously?!” 

“You’re really going to slut shame me? Here at work?” You ask, snatching the packet of Reese’s Pieces as it falls into the dispenser tray. 

“The pot is very much calling the kettle black here, don’t you think?” Steve kicks the corner of the machine and taps the side again, but instead of beeping in recognition, the machine stays dormant. You pop a candy in your mouth smugly as Steve grunts in frustration. 

“I’m not the whore of Hawkins, Harrington. But that might be a title with which you can identify.” 

“Nice alliteration, brainiac.” Steve kicks the machine harder this time. Clearly with more malicious intent towards the hulking appliance rather than with the strategy of overriding the payment mechanism. 

“You know about alliteration? You didn’t skip that lesson in English class to fondle a bimbo under the bleachers?” You pop another candy in your mouth and fan yourself. The heat is starting to get to you. It is suffocating in this room. Your collar is stuck to your neck and you grab at the front of your shirt, billowing it out to try and stimulate an internal breeze. You look up and find Steve staring at the place where your hand pulls at your clothes, but he’s quick to look away, shoving a hand through his messy hair. 

“Oh yeah? I’m not the one pushing my tits together whenever a slightly attractive guy comes in. I swear I saw you almost put your hand down the pants of that ex-football loser who came in here looking for fucking Flash Gordon for the tenth time.”

You gasp at his audacity. Because how dare he say that to you but also because it is objectively untrue. You had lightly flirted with the man, sure. You were bored and he had broad shoulders. Sue you. But Steve has no right to any sort of commentary. 

“I’m sorry Mr. This-way-to-the-romance-section-and-while-we’re-at-it-why-don’t-you-come-watch-it-at-my-place Harrington. A blonde with big boobs so much as thinks about walking in here and your eyes are popping out of your head and your tongue is trailing on the floor.”

“You’re using the description of a horny cartoon character to describe me? Nice. Real nice.” Steve bangs on the side of the machine with his fist one more time and you let out a groan. 

“Stop beating up the vending machine, for fuck’s sake. Here!” You reach into your pocket and grab a dollar, thrusting it into his face. Steve swats your hand away.

“I have money, trainee.” He reaches into his own pocket and fishes out a dollar which he proceeds to jam unceremoniously into the slot. 

You drop yourself into one of the seats at the lunch table and grab for a magazine to fan yourself with. 

“Well if you’re so loaded, why are you always stealing snacks?” 

Steve ignores you, punching in the correct code this time. When another packet of Reese’s Pieces drops instead of the M&Ms he’d asked for, he lets out massive cry of frustration. 

“What the fuck?”

“Well that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all day,” you say, crossing your arms in your seat and biting your lip to keep from smiling widely. 

“What the FUCK!” 

“Maybe it’s karma, for being such an asshole to me,” you shrug. Steve whips around, shooting you daggers. 

“I’ve had it about up to here with you today, trainee.” He stalks over to the water cooler and rips out a little cone paper cup, accidentally pulling out three too many in the process. You continue fanning yourself with the magazine languidly. 

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry dad.”

Steve actually barks a laugh at that and looks at you over his shoulder, filling the paper cup with room temp water. 

“You’re not the first to make that association.”

“Oh gross, Harrington. I didn’t ask for insight into your sex life,” you pretend to gag. 

Steve knocks back the water and crushes the paper cone in his fist, tossing it over his shoulder as he goes to join you at the table. You are positively irked to notice that he makes it perfectly into the trash without even looking. 

“That’s not what I meant but I’m not opposed to being called daddy, fyi,” he says, winking at you. 

“I’m sure you’re not. Seems right up your alley.” Your words are derisive but you can’t help the breathless quality they take on. It must be a side effect of this fucking heat. You’re not taking in air properly. 

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’re really mean between the sheets.” 

“Oh you’ll bet that?” you ask with a snort, trying to ignore the paradoxical shiver that runs through your body at the implication. 

“Yeah. You seem to derive a sick pleasure from giving me a hard time. Wouldn’t be shocked if insults turn you on.” 

“Not a super fan of being degraded, Steve. Sorry to burst your bubble,” you reply lightly. Like his suggestion didn’t just add a palpitation to your heart beat. Steve bites his lip contemplatively. 

“Well I really meant that I think you like being the one to dish out the insults,” he clarifies. But then he’s leaning closer to you across the table, a smirk spreading across his face as he takes in the way your posture is scrunching defensively. “But actually now that I think of it…I feel like you probably would like being degraded.” 

“Excuse me?” you exhale sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath as his proximity increased. 

“You’re a perfectionist. A good girl, or you are most of the time, as we’ve established.” Steve’s finger slides across the table towards you and your gaze locks on its approaching motion. “I could see you looking for an excuse to let go of all that pressure. To be bad.” 

You’ve stopped breathing again, mesmerized by his slow words and the trajectory of his sliding finger. Then suddenly he’s reaching out and snatching the half empty bag of Reese’s Pieces from your grasp, upending it in the air above his face and crunching down on the remaining candy. 

“Hey!” you cry out, lunging for him only to be stopped by his defensive hand outstretching and catching you, holding you an arm length away. Steve makes a face.

“It’s a crime that this is peanut butter instead of chocolate.”

You grab him by the front of the shirt and get very close to him, glaring up into his stupid, pretty face.

“You’ll pay for that, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah? How?” he asks. His eyes are looking down into yours, the remnants of his smirk slowly fading from his face. The heat is sweltering. Hotter than it’s been during your entire shift and you really should run out the front door for some air before you pass out but…you’re rooted to the spot. 

You inhale in order to respond - not even sure of what you’ll say once the words start flowing - but you’re immediately interrupted by the ding of the bell on the front door. 

“Hello? Anybody here?”

The customer’s voice cuts through the tension between you and you let go of Steve’s shirt like it’s on fire. 

“Just a minute!” you call out in your sing-song-y customer service voice. You hear Steve groan behind you but you don’t give him a second thought as you dash out onto the floor of the store. 

The same grumpy man from earlier stands at the counter, grumpier than ever and brandishing his tape towards you. 

“I got all the way home just to realize that the wrong tape is in this blasted box.” He wrenches open the case for Cocoon to reveal a copy of Tootsie. You try not to laugh at his absurdly wounded expression and grab the tape from him.

“I am so sorry, sir, we’ll get this sorted for you,” you assure, turning around to let out a silent chuckle. You shuffle through the bare tapes on the counter and find the correct one, silently cursing Steve for his disorganization. 

“This is unacceptable, young lady,” the old man grumbles as you put the Cocoon tape in its box. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, unfortunately.”

“I expect a higher quality of service. I fought on D Day, you know.”

“We did not know that, thank you for your service,” Steve mumbles sarcastically coming up beside you behind the counter. The man doesn’t catch his facetiousness and wags a fervent finger.

“That’s right. I should be treated with some respect.”

“Without a doubt,” Steve replies. You silently snap the tape box closed and hand it over, trying not to look annoyed.But the man doesn’t take it from you. Instead he points over at the stack of tapes where you had placed the copy of Tootsie. 

“She tried to give me a movie with a man in a dress,” he accuses and you scoff. Steve glances over, clocking which movie it is and no doubt realizing that the mistake was his own. 

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, she was doing you a favor, because Dustin Hoffman is just a delight - ,”

“As her manager, I think you should fire her,” the man interrupts Steve. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, shocked at his audacity. Steve holds his hands up in a time out symbol. 

“First of all, I’m not her manager, and second of all. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She gave me a fruity movie!” the man cries out. 

“Ok then,” you push away from the counter and head towards the back room, completely done with this interaction. 

“Sir, fruit is delicious,” Steve argues, distracted as he watches you stalk off to the back, anxious to follow. The old man wags his finger even more violently. 

“I’ll be telling the owner, just you wait. Do you take me for a fruit, young man?” he raises his voice.

“Yeah a raisin, sir. Please get out of my store.” Steve’s voice lowers in tone, but the authority in it increases tenfold. “Now.”

~*~

Steve finds you pacing around the break room, a paper water cone crushed in your hand. He approaches to comfort you, but the second he enters, you round on him.

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what? Defend you?” Steve’s bewildered by your reaction, hands up in the air in front of himself defensively. 

“I wouldn’t need defending if you weren’t such a fuck up at your job, Steve.” You flail a hand in the direction of the front counter. 

“You said it yourself that everyone makes mistakes.”

“I was lying, Harrington. I don’t make mistakes. You make enough for the both of us.” You go to turn away from him but he grabs your elbow.

“Oh what, and you’re Ms. Fucking Perfect? Huh?” You wrench your elbow out his grasp. 

“In comparison to you? Hell yeah.” 

“That’s rich,” Steve barks out a laugh, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. His stance squares off with you and he too points out toward the front counter. “How many times have I had to save you from customers who are asking for films you’ve never fucking heard about?”

“Shut up, Steve,” you roll your eyes and Steve gets more emphatic. 

“How many times have I had to come stop some creep who’s being weird to you?”

“Oh fuck you. My hero. My white knight, scaring away the big bad men,” you say in a mocking tone. You cross your arms over your chest and for the first time since walking into the back room Steve notices that you have unbuttoned a large portion of the top buttons on your shirt, probably due to the heat. With your arms folded over your chest, he can see your cleavage and he swallows. You notice and drop your arms with a scoff. “You fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them!”

“What? What?!” Steve blusters, trying to play off the fact that you caught him staring. 

“You’re a fucking horn dog, that’s what.” 

“Oh please.” He turns around with a dismissive laugh and you step forward to follow him, staying in his space. 

“You know what I think? I think the reason you give me a hard time is because I never gave you the time of day,” you declare, putting your hands on your hips. The heat is rising within you now. The air is stifling and electric around you as Steve takes an angry step closer to you and you feel crackling as if you’re in the middle of a heat lightning storm. 

“Well you’re way off base with that theory, trainee,” Steve bites out. He’s smirking at you. Goddamn smirking at you as if he’s got the upperhand in spite of what you’ve just accused him of. 

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because I know you asked Robin if I was single when you first started working here,” he says smugly. He folds his arms across his own chest now and you curse your fucking eyes because they widen while taking in the way his biceps now look. Large and defined as his sleeves shift up. 

“So? That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I just wanted to know if you were cheating on a girlfriend with all the flirting you insist on doing,” you manage to reply coolly. But Steve’s shaking his head before you even finish your statement. 

“I believe your words were - and I quote - ‘Is Steve single? Because he’s hot as fuck. I’d let that boy bend me over the break room table’.” His voice takes on a high pitched mocking quality as he approximates your tone. 

Your eyes blow wide and your jaw drops to the floor. 

“Robin, that bitch.” 

“Don’t blame Robin for your horny fantasies, trainee.” He’s got a smile on his face that you just want to slap off. Your fingers flex at your sides but you hold yourself back, taking a deep breath. 

“Then you don’t blame her for the fact that she told me you get a semi every time I wear these jeans?” 

Steve’s eyes practically bug out of his head and dart down to look at the jeans in question. You quirk an eye up, your turn to smile.

“I - what? No!” 

“So she lied? This doesn’t do it for you?” you ask, turning slightly and leaning on the back of a chair so that your ass stuck out a little, accentuating your curves. Steve’s gaze drops to your ass before pinballing all the way around the room, desperately looking at anything and everything other than you. 

“That’s not…you’re full of…”

“No, you’re full of it, Harrington. Admit it,” you say, straightening up and pointing at him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, standing a little straighter and looking at you now that you’re no longer presenting your ass to him.  

“You find me irresistable,” you accuse. Steve laughs loudly and without humor. 

“And yet here I am. Perfectly capable of resisting,” he says, standing his ground. “Meanwhile you’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

“You fucking wish!”

“In your dreams.”

“In my nightmares.” 

The next few seconds seem to play out, paradoxically, both sped up and in slow motion. The heat fills the space around you, almost thick enough to cushion the air. And then Steve’s body is hurtling towards yours. Or yours towards his - you can’t be sure. All you are aware of is movement and then contact. The woosh of air and then the solidness of impact. 

Steve’s hands are on your waist, pulling your body against his as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are in his hair before you can even think about it, your movements automatic and entirely involuntary as far as you’re concerned. Fingers fisting in his locks you kick yourself internally because they feel exactly like you thought they would. Fucking pretty haired pretty boy.

His tongue is at the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open ruthlessly and you comply, allowing him to sweep inside. Steve turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss and pushing down into you until you feel yourself being folded back, his hand sliding to your tailbone to support you through the dip.

When he pulls away, both of you gasping for air, he doesn’t move far, instead dipping to suck biting kisses against your throat.

“You gonna tell me to stop?”

His words don’t make any sense as they enter your hazy brain. One of your hands drops to his shoulder, grasping. Clinging really as he delivers a particularly rough suck to the place beneath your ear.

“W-what?”

“If you hate me so much this must be torture for you,” he breathes into your skin. The smugness has returned to his voice, muted though it is against your throat. 

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” you seethe. He’s laughing now against your throat. 

“I know, that’s what I just said - ,”

You cut him off by roughly grabbing him by the hair and bringing him back to your lips. The moan he looses into your mouth has you humming with a satisfaction that seeps deep down into your core. He’s not getting the upper hand so easily. Not if you have anything to say about it. 

Now on a single-minded mission to ruin him, you reach down and splay your hand out against his lower back, rolling your hips forward in tandem with the motion in order to grind your pelvis against his. He lets out a groan that you feel in your extremities, so you repeat the move. 

Suddenly the hands that are on your waist drop to your hips and wrench you around so your back is to him. The twirl disorients you and you gasp, blinking at the back of the break room and panting as Steve’s hands pull you back - ass against his pelvis. 

He slaps a hand on the back of your thigh - making you whine - and slides up your curve to grip a handful of your ass. 

“I’ll be the bigger person,” he says with a heavy chuckle into your ear. “I can admit these jeans do it for me.”

A laugh rocks through your body in spite of yourself. 

“Oh yeah? They giving you a semi?” you ask jokingly. Steve pulls you back against him, hips bracketing your ass, and you feel him pressing into you. Hard. Nothing semi about it. 

“What do you think?” His voice is gruff now, his lower half grinding slowly, deliberately into yours. 

“I think you’re hard,” you say on an exhale. His laugh is full throated and his grip on your hips tighten.

“Very observant, trainee. A+ work.” His face buries itself into the crook between your neck and shoulder, lips toying with the skin there. 

“Don’t call me trainee.” Your voice is breathless but for once there is no menace in it when you say the sentence you’ve yelled at him a million times.

“No? What should I call you then?” His lips are at your ear. His fingertips dig into your hips and push you back into him. Making you feel him. “Baby? Darling?”

You let out a gasping laugh when he bucks into you from behind, knocking you off balance a bit so you have to lean forward and grasp the edge of the table. He follows you down, chest still against your back. 

“...slut?”

You’d love it if your response was to laugh in his face. To pry his hands off of you, straighten up your clothes, and walk out the door. But that’s not what happens. 

You moan. 

He says the word and you moan. 

It’s dark and filthy and you feel hot shame the minute it issues from your mouth, but the way his fingers tense immediately has got heat pooling directly between your thighs. 

“Holy shit.”

“I…that doesn’t…”

“Holy shit!” His words are laughing and victorious and he’s nuzzling his face over your shoulder even as you try to crouch away. “I fucking called it.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” you argue, even as your back arches slightly and find yourself rocking back into him. His hand slides over the slope of your hip to the front of your jeans. 

“You moaned, trainee. I called you a slut and you moaned.” Steve’s hand cups your mound then, middle finger pressing up into the center seam of your jeans. 

“F-fuck…”  You swivel your hips to grind down into his hand, suddenly getting a taste of the friction you’d begun to crave. 

Steve uses his hand between your legs to ground you against him, giving him leverage with which to rub his hard-on directly into your ass. 

“You can lie all you want. Calling you a slut is making you writhe for me…like a cute little slut.”

You huff out an exhale and look over your shoulder at him.

“Is it the word or the fact that you’re practically fingering me through my jeans and humping me? Which is it, Steve?”

His cocky smile only widens and he shoots forward to steal a kiss over your shoulder since you’re looking at him. 

“Both?” 

“Oh christ, Harrington…” you trail off as his hand slides up and starts opening your jeans. 

“You do have a point though…” he says, biting his lip in concentration. He yanks your jeans down over your ass, leaving them bunched around your knees. His hand cups you through your underwear before yanking them to the side, fingers sweeping directly over your wet slit as you shiver. “Through the jeans wasn’t that efficient.”

“Pretty boy worries about efficiency?” you ask derisively. His finger has found your clit with no problem and your knees are feeling weaker by the second, but you definitely aren’t going to go easy on him. 

“Being pretty isn’t the only thing I’m good at, you know,” he says with humor. You find the wherewithal to reach back and peel his other hand off your hip, bringing it to close around your breast. Steve intakes breath sharply. 

“Same,” you reply with a smirk. He gropes you experimentally through your shirt before rooting underneath the hem to find your bra-clad breast. 

“So you think you’re pretty?” he taunts. 

“You do.”

“I think you’re pretty or I think I’m pretty?” Steve asks, pulling your breast out of the cup and pinching your nipple just as he sinks a finger into your pussy.

“Fuck…the first one…both…just shut up,” you grit out and arch your back. 

“I knew you’d been mean to me,” Steve quips before sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder. 

“Steve, do you want to fuck me?” you ask, voice tinged with annoyance. His head shoots over your shoulder to try and get a look at your face.

“I can fuck you?” He sounds like an enthusiastic puppy dog and your heart lurches in spite of itself. 

“Not if you keep making fun of me, you can’t,” you say, though there’s humor in the words. 

“Ahh, you can dish it but you can’t take it. I get it. That’s cool.” Steve’s tone is casual. The exact opposite of his actions as he slowly adds another finger into your dripping channel. You keen forward, both from the force of the pleasure and from the way your reaction makes him grind his dick even harder against your ass. 

“Um…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“So…are you going to fuck me?”

Your question makes him laugh and has his hips stuttering against you. 

“Eager to make the fantasy of me bending you over this table a reality?” 

“No. Eager to fast forward to the part where you wake up having creamed your pj’s thinking of me,” you retort, this time with a massive smile on your face as you recall the story you’d been told about Steve’s wet dreams. Steve groans. 

“Fucking Robin,” he says, letting go of your breast to reach down and open his own pants. 

“She’s the worst,” you agree. The anticipation is mounting and sweat drips off your brow. You’d down on your elbows now, bent over the table, and you can’t see Steve behind you, but you can hear the rustle of clothing. He yanks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles suddenly and you yelp and he nudges your thighs open so your legs are spread hip-width apart. 

You wait a few breathless heart beats until the sound of skin on skin - which does not include your own - has you looking over your shoulder. 

Steve is standing behind you, his own pants pooled at his feet, with his cock in his hand. He’s gripping it, giving it long, slow strokes as his eyes hungrily consume your half-bare body. 

“I…think you might kill me,” he says seriously, dragging his eyes up from your pussy to your face. You gesture down to the cock he is fisting, eyeing the size.

“Back at you.” 

He laughs at your response and heat rushes through you at how beautiful he looks with the smile cracking his face wide. You want him. Now. 

So you turn back around and bend yourself over the table again, shifting side to side to sway your ass at him enticingly. 

Steve’s on you not even a second later. His hands smooth over your hips and waist and his cock slides between your legs, between your folds. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He’s repeating the phrase over and over under his breath and you’d laugh but you’re feeling similarly speechless. Impatient now, you reach back and take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. You arch and lean forward, guiding his tip into you until his hands grip your hips and he steps forward, slipping in inch by inch. 

“Oh fuck,” you both swear, practically in unison. Steve remains still for a second to let you adjust, and also to ground himself as he takes in all of what is happening in this moment. 

You find yourself nearly shaking from the feel of him inside you. He feels so good and it’s been a long, empty summer so far. Of course you’re horny, you reason with yourself in your head as you shift forward, trying to entice him to move, which he does. He’s hot and you’re horny and and it feels good. It feeels good.

“Yeah? Feels good?” 

Shit. You’ve been speaking your thoughts out loud. You go to contradict him - to take it back - but then he’s kissing your neck and you can’t help but hum. 

“Yeah. It’s good.” 

He finds a steady pace before the his words return again, this time more hoarse than before. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans out, thrusting into you particularly hard. Feeling sweat slick your skin you laugh.

“It’s because there’s no fan in here.”

“Oh, she’s shy about compliments suddenly,” Steve intuits and you roll your eyes, though he can’t see it. “She knows she’s hot but doesn’t want me to point it out?”

“Steve…” you warn, but there’s little else you can do as he reaches a hand down to the apex of your thighs and starts fingering your clit. You grip numbly at the table. 

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop talking about your incredible body?” he teases, his other hand coming down flat over your back to push you further down into the table before reclaiming your hip. “How good it feels to be inside you?”

“You’re a cocky bastard,” you say, but it comes out in a whine. You’re record-breakingly close to cumming and your brain and body seem disconnected. Unsure of what to do about the short circuiting feeling of shame and pleasure and annoyance and fondness, all of which are completely Steve’s fault. 

“You’ve got that right, sweetheart,” he responds, inhaling sharply when you clench around him in response. “What’s that? So you like being called sweetheart?”

“Mmmm,” is all you manage to moan out, though he takes it correctly as an affirmation. He has both hands gripping your waist now, allowing nothing to distract him from pounding into you, chasing his own release now while also rocketing you towards your own. 

“So you do like a little sweetness after all.” It’s teasing but you’re too fucked out to care at this point. So close. So close. Steve’s kissing the spot under your ear as he slows down to fuck you harder. Deeper. “Good thing I like it sweet. That’s how I’ve always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it something that usually would have you slapping him and walking away? Yes.

But now you’re cumming. Crying out his name as his cock slides into you, your walls bearing down and spasming around him. 

You don’t even know where your orgasm ends and his begins, you’re so blinded by pleasure. But he’s shaking around you and his hips are stuttering and then his weight is pressing you into the table as he pants. 

There’s a split second where your shared breathe is all you can sense. His skin on yours has you buzzing and your muscles are jelly. You don’t even have a moment to think about repercussions or right or wrong. There’s just…Steve.

And then the bell rings in the distance indicating someone has entered the front door.

“Hellooo!” Comes Robin’s sing song voice. “Do my sad single friends want to hear how my date went?”

~*~

Read Part 2 Here

Steve / Stranger Things tag list (some of these are assumptions based on your interactions with my posts about my steve fic, so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!): @boomhauer @asbisexualasitgets @bluetreecloud20 @flightless-b1rds  let-my-ship-sail @fandomsimper @livlovelaughh @maggiemaes-stuff @adultnitemares @wonderfulw0rldx​ @bellaiscool @halolani  supe-r-nova  r4nd0mf4nd0mz25  spookyreidd  cmlover101  coolestgirlhere  jadenswifey22  ashleighjadecharlton  everybodywantstobetouched  uhcastiels  monsterhighprincess99  misaamaneswifey  steveharringtonsdaddy  getoutandtouchtherain  alexxavicry  craze4bau  sabrinablack194  iseultult  devonisntreal  navybluebitch  macey730  izbot6  sweetkyotto  @millenialcatlady​  creme-delacreme  s-trawberryv-eins  amatchinwater  vamdevil  xoxchanxl  mrssharrington  edwardmunsn  moonyscardigans  wayward-rose 

[angelltheninth]

Hello! I just love your arcane x reader works! Can you do arcane characters x gender neutral! reader who either died or got kidnapped during a mission?

Oh not making Reader dead nope, these characters have suffered enough they don't need a dead lover.

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, injury, cuddles, nightmares, crying, rescue mission, reunion kisses

A/N: Well um... Jayce might... you know what no, Mel is gonna be fine!

First, know that you won't stay kidnapped for long. If it for some reason is days then be ready to be face to face with a very tired and very pissed off Jinx when she finally manages to track you down.

Who ever kidnapped you most likely won't survive to tell the tail and even if by some miracle they do they sure as hell won't ever look at the color blue the same way ever again. She might be tired as all fuck, on the verge of collapsing even but she won't rest until you're safe and sound in her arms back in her house.

"You're safe and sound now sugar. That must've been scary for ya. Don't worry, they won't hurt you again. Or anyone else for that matter. Oh, no don't look at them like that, ya shouldn't be sorry for them, they don't deserve your compassion."

By the time Vi finds you she's bruised up maybe even more then your kidnappers. She's fought her way through all of them, yelling and cursing every single one of them. She gathers you in her arms and carries you back home.

As much as she wants to be the one taking care of you she's also pretty beat so you take the role of caretaker instead. Her hands are red and covered in cruises from vicious punching, twitching when you kiss them gently. Shit, you got her feeling all mushy, she could cry, no she is crying, she feels very lucky to have you.

"I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you sweet stuff, you're the one who got kidnapped. I know! How is it that I'm more banged up then you? You should have seen those sorry bastards, one actually cried for his mom. Did... did they make you cry? If they did I'm going back and kicking their asses all over again."

Caitlyn, as much as she wants to, doesn't rush in. She has a plan, one that assures that not one of those who wronged you escapes her sights and a fair trail. In which they will be put behind bars for kidnapping and extortion.

She takes care of most of them by herself, a little more rough around the edges then usual but still not missing a shot. She can't afford to. Can't help but cry when she cups your bruised face in her hands. She was scared, so damn scared that this was it. Right now only your kiss will make her feel relieved again.

"Darling, its me, its just me. Please, I know it hurts but... oh gods... please just let me hold you a little. I don't care that they're looking, I need this right now. Don't worry I've got a warm bath and even warmer hugs ready for you once we get back home."

Ekko arrives to rescue you with an entire team of Firelights at his back. He doesn't even bother hiding his face with the mask, he wants them to remember him, the look in his eyes and how it could have been the last thing they ever saw.

There's no way he can tear himself away from you once he's got you safe and sound in his arms. He doesn't leave your side while your injures are being treated or while you sleep. In fact he doesn't even sleep until you wake up and smile at him again the next morning, that's the point where he feels like he's done a good job.

"Firefly how do you feel? You took a bit of a hit to the head but the doctor said you should be okay now. Sorry, I got careless and let my guard down. I saw them coming but I... I wasn't fast enough. Its not okay! I could have gotten you killed. I would lay my life down for the cause, and that does double for laying down my life for you."

There isn't anything or anyone that can move around Zaun without Vander's knowledge. He thought he left his violent days behind him a long time ago, and for the most part he has but there's still that protective spark in him that can activate his violent side easily.

His fists may be covered in blood but his smile and eyes are as soft as ever when he looks at you. Soft kisses are pampered all over your forehead, the tiniest broken hiccup tearing from his mouth as he nuzzles you close to him and carries you back to the Last Drop to look you over.

"I should've taken care of that gang long ago. Then you wouldn't be in this situation darlin'. How do I feel? Not a scratch on me as you can see. You on the other hand... don't worry you still look pretty to me, bruises or not. I can kiss them better if you just stopped your squirming around."

Zaun is Silco's domain. If anyone is stupid enough to try and kidnap you in his own territory they won't stay hidden for long. And once he finds them, well, he's got plenty of uses for scum like that. Painful use.

As for you, you get nothing but his undivided attention until the last bruise on your body fades away. Sure he does need to be in his office and all that but you can be with him, you can get kisses whenever you want even get to cuddle with him on the couch.

"Are you comfortable over there darling? If you want I can get something better brought here. Shimmer? Well it would be faster but I'm not getting you hooked on this, you're much to precious to me to be some experiment. Your kidnappers on the other hand will serve their purpose."

They will have to eat through a straw for the rest of their lives if they even survive Sevika getting her hands on them. They should be so lucky to only get away with broken bones and nothing else with the way she was making her way through them.

Sevika is very careful when she's handling you, she'd never been so gentle with anyone. It's new, endearing even. You're pretty sure you hear her cursing beside you when she's got her arms wrapped around yours as you fall asleep, followed by a very long kiss on your head and a heavy, relived sigh.

"Sleep sweet thing, no one's gonna hurt you hear me? They can try but I'll kill them all, lucky if that's all I do. The only reason those idiots are still breathing is cause I didn't wanna get their blood all over your pretty face. If I see them again there's gonna be a lot to clean up."

Viktor doesn't think he can let you out of his sight ever again after you're back at his side. He only wishes he could have done more then waited for you to be retuned to him. At least you're safe that's all that should matter.

He should be the one looking after you but he's the one who ends up with nightmares that night. He's already lost sleep, he should be resting but when he thinks about you not being here anymore, it crushes him from the inside. All he wants, all he needs right now is to cuddle up next to you and listen to your heartbeat.

"Sorry I woke you up darling. I'm alright, don't worry. I'm not crying, just had a bit of a bad dream. Go back to sleep please, you need it. I'll be fine, as long as I've got you here by my side there's nothing I cannot handle."

Jayce holds you close to his chest while he carries you to the doctor. He's constantly kissing the back of your hand, his hammer leaning against the bedframe just in case any of the kidnappers got away and wanted to try their luck again.

There aren't many things that can make him scared like the thought of losing you. He tries to be logical most of the time, he feels like that's what he should be, but you make him act on his emotions, you make him want to scream and cry and tell you over and over how much he loves you and how he'll never let anything bad happen to you again.

"Hey, you're awake! Whoa babe, easy, don't try getting up right now, you need to rest, you've been through a lot today. Just say the word and I'll get you whatever you need. You always take care of me so let me be a good boyfriend and spoil you for a change and help you get better okay?"

Mel was almost ready to throw diplomacy out the damn window and turn both Piltover and Zaun on their heads to find you. But that would be going against everything the two of you are trying achieve. That said she doesn't show mercy to your kidnappers either, making sure they get put away for a long time, never seeing the light of day again.

After every meeting with the Council she rushes home to you, her mind stuck on you all day, unable to concentrate properly. This will be an issue for her until you recover but you being safe and getting healed up are... more important to her then impressing the Council.

"I made it home early for you darling, and I brought some more medicine. Would you like it now or after you eat? I see, very well then, just my company for now is it. I must say you've become a bit more spoiled recently. I don't mind one bit, as long as you're alright I'm happy to provide you anything you want."

[fandomxpreferences]

So Funny Story (I'm Fucking Your Daughter)

Funny Story Universe

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Mitchell!Reader

TW: allusions to smut, swearing, angst kind of, I think thats it?

Summary: You've had a thing with Jake for a while now. The thing is, your dad doesn't know and your brother is desperate for you to tell him.

Word Count:3.2k

A/N:if you read this on desktop and the bottom is fucked up, please know ive tried 100 times to fix it and Tumblr hates me

It was never supposed to go this far, honestly. This whole predicament started out as friends with benefits, and that's how it was meant to stay. Somewhere along the way, the boundaries got muddy and occasional hookups turned into regular sleepovers. Without either of you trying or even realizing it, the relationship blossomed into something more serious. 

In the blink of an eye, the blonde aviator became integral to your life. It's really not your fault; falling for him was so effortless. Loving Jake Seresin is as easy as breathing once you get past the arrogant bravado. 

There's just one problem. One giant, monumental, bat-shit crazy issue. Your dad Maverick doesn't know. In fact, when you waltzed into town, the first thing that he told the aviators was that you're off limits, especially to Jake Seresin. Mav knows his type because he is his type. 

The love em and leave em type that can't be tied down. That's not good enough for his little girl, and he won't allow it.

Ironically, that's how it all began. Telling Jake he can't have something is like dangling candy in front of a child, and you love to push the boundaries and do things to prove a point. 

The point being that your dad can't tell you what or who to do. It took all of three weeks to find yourself in the aviator's bed, and you never left. With each day that passes, your anxiety grows, and you know that as you approach your six-month anniversary, you're teetering on hurting Mav when he does find out. 

The only person in on the secret is your big brother. Well, he's not technically your brother, but the two of you have been raised together since diapers, even going on to apply to the academy and flight school together. The way he found out was less than ideal. 

You and Jake are basking in the afterglow of mind-blowing sex, your naked bodies pressed together as you come back down. You're less than decent with the comforter strewn over your ankles as Jake drips out of you. 

Jake's breathless laugh fills the room as his hand rakes through the dark blonde locs your fingers were just tangled in. This has been happening for almost a month now, and you've fallen into a comfortable routine. 

You couldn't stop if you wanted to; truth be told, you'd rather pluck out each of your teeth one by one than never feel Jake Seresin on you again. You've found yourself in freefall, plummeting face-first toward love.

You're too wrapped up in each other to notice the heavy footsteps in the hall and you jump as the door bursts open and slams into the wall. 

"Hey, Hangman, I was won-"Bradley's thought is cut short as he lets out a shrill scream and rushes to cover his eyes. 

"What the fuck?! Y/N, what the hell are you doing?!" 

Jake scrambles to cover the two of you up and you shrink into his arms as he wraps you in a protective embrace. 

"Well, I'm not doing anything now." You mutter, and Bradley lets out an exaggerated gag. 

"No, no, fuck no. Absolutely not. Please tell me this is a one-time thing that's going to the grave." He begs, and your mouth curls up into a sheepish grin. 

"I can lie if it'll make you feel better." You offer, and he groans. 

"God damn it, Y/N. This is the one thing Mav forbade! And don't even get me started with you, Hangman. You're as good as dead." He peeks through his fingers before snapping them closed again.

"For fucks sake, can the two of you please put on some clothes if we're going to be having a conversation?" 

Jake rolls his eyes but moves to slip on a pair of boxers as you grab his shirt and sweatpants. 

"We weren't really looking for a conversation, but come on in, I guess." 

You give Bradley the okay to look, and he shoots daggers at Jake. 

"You're not really in the position to be making smart-ass comments, shit for brains." His voice is sharp, and you snap your fingers at him. 

"Hey, watch your mouth. You're the one who came in unannounced. I'm pretty sure that key is for emergencies only." 

Bradley looks at you in shock and sputters for a few seconds.

"Wh- you. Are you shitting me right now? You're defending him?" He asks, and you shrug. 

"That's what girlfriends do." Your tone is casual, and you can almost see Bradley's heart threatening to explode. 

"Girlfriend?! Oh dear god, please strike me down now. Do you think if we put our heads together, we could figure out time travel so I can go back to a simpler time before I knew about this?" He ponders, hands gesturing wildly between you and Jake.

You snort and shake your head at his antics, allowing yourself to settle back into Jake's chest. 

"You're telling Mav, right? Hopefully, the second I walk out the door?" 

Jake smirks, and you already know he's about to say something out of pocket. 

"I actually had other plans, and I think having Mav present would kill the mood." 

Bradley's muscles ripple with restraint, and he points a finger. 

"Tread lightly, Bagman. That's my baby sister." He growls, and you scoff. 

"Put away the tough guy act, Roo. You and dad need to get over yourselves and realize you're not my keepers." 

Bradley's features soften a bit, and he sighs. His shoulders are tense, and he begins pacing back and forth while mumbling under his breath. 

"Okay, so when are you telling Mav?" 

You shift under his gaze, and he can sense by the way you're batting your eyelashes that he isn't going to like your response. You only do that when you want something, and you know exactly how to get your way with him. 

"Well, that's the thing," You start, and Bradley sets his mouth in a hard line. 

"We- I was hoping this could be our little secret." 

Your lower lip juts out, but it does nothing to make Bradley cave this time. 

"No."

You climb out of bed and amble toward him, doing your best to look small and innocent. He eyes you with suspicion, and you stop in front of him. 

"Come on, BradBrad. Please? For me?" 

That seals his fate. 

"Fuck- fine! How long?" 

You squeal and engulf him in a tight hug that he reluctantly returns. 

"Just a little bit longer." 

He sighs in defeat, and you pull back with a bright smile. 

"When you tell him, keep me out of it. I'll be buried alongside Jake if he finds out I knew, and I can't think of anything worse than an eternity next to that dickhead."

You slap his arm lightly, and he turns to leave. 

"I can't believe I got drug into this bullshit."

That was almost six months ago, and it turns out you and Bradley have different definitions of just a little bit longer. He's resorted to calling you every day, pestering you relentlessly about when you're coming clean. 

You're sprawled out in Jake's bed while he gets water in the kitchen, and your phone rings on schedule. You answer the FaceTime call, and Bradley's distressed face pops up on the screen. 

"When are you telling him?" He asks, skipping niceties altogether. 

"Well, hello to you too." You jest, but he doesn't look the slightest bit amused. You swear you can spot a few new wrinkles coupled with gray hairs, and guilt eats at you. It fades quickly when you hear the bite in his tone. 

"Y/N, I'm serious. When are you going to tell him?" 

You groan and roll onto your side, a migraine settling in. 

"I don't know, Brad! The wedding? Why would I tell him when I'm just going to get a lecture? The two of you aren't exactly the most level-headed people when it comes to me!" 

Remorse swims in your brother's eyes, and he takes a deep breath. 

"Wedding? Are the two of you really that serious?" He questions, and your free hand comes up to rub your temple. 

"I don't know, maybe? The thought has crossed my mind." 

A ghost of a smile covers his face, and he rubs his jaw. There's a knock at the front door, but you don't pay it any mind as he starts speaking again.

"Well, little sis, if it's really tha-" 

You cut him off when you hear voices float up the stairs and shoot up in bed. 

You vaguely hear Jake say, "So, funny story." followed by another man's voice.

"Shut the fuck up. Hold on." Your ears strain to hear better, and Bradley frowns when your face blanches. "Oh my god." 

You jump out of bed and start scrambling around, desperate to find an escape. 

"What's going on?" 

Your head snaps back to your phone, and Bradley hasn't seen you this frantic since he caught you making out with your high school boyfriend that you snuck in. 

"Dad is here!" You whisper shout. "Why the fuck is he here?"

Bradley scowls and tries to sort out the situation in his head. 

"Are you sure?" 

You scoff as you climb out the window and curl up on the roof, shivering as a cold breeze whips around you. 

"What do you me- yes, I'm sure! You think I don't recognize my own dad's fucking voice?" 

Your voice is hushed, and Bradley's eyes widen when he realizes you're serious. 

"Well, what the hell is he doing there at ten pm?" He asks and the pointed look you give him causes him to snap his mouth shut. 

"Just shut the fuck up before you get me caught!" You bite, and you vaguely register him moving around. This is absurd. You're not a teenager in high school. Why the hell are you hiding from your dad on your boyfriend's roof?

"God, I have the worst luck. It could be raining dicks, and I'd look up and catch a titty!" You complain, and Bradley snorts on the other end.

You wait with bated breath, praying it's just a quick visit, but you have no such luck. 

You hear the door to Jake's room open, and Bradley searches for his keys. So much for leaving him out of it. 

"I'm on my way." He informs you, and your eyes are wild as you acknowledge him with a nod. Your breaths are erratic as panic claws at your throat; for once, you don't argue with him. 

The second you hear the window slide open, you know you're done for. You're met with your dad's hard eyes and try to muster an angelic smile. His jaw is set, and there's a burning crimson peeking over the collar of his shirt all the way up to his cheeks. 

"Hi, daddy."

You don't even get a chance to stand before a loud crash rings out, and you rush back inside, almost falling in the process. He has Jake pinned against the wall with his arm across his throat, murder clearly not off the table. 

Jake just takes it, his face relaxed and posture open. You know better, though. You've managed to get past that unphased exterior, and you can read the fear in Jake's eyes like a book. 

"What is the one thing I fucking said?" Mav growls through clenched teeth, and you're on him in an instant. 

You try your best to pull him back, desperate for space between the men, but it's no use. Mav only has maybe half an inch on you, but the man is a lot stronger than he looks. The adrenaline pumping through his veins does nothing to help and you resort to pleading. 

"Dad, stop!" 

He turns to look at you, and for the first time in your life, there's no mercy or gentleness on his face when he stares at you. 

"I'll deal with you in a minute."

You've never seen him like this, which sends a shiver down your spine. You knew it would be ugly, but never in a million years did you think he would go this far off the rails. 

Thoughts race through your head at a million miles an hour as you try to think of what to do, but the problem is solved for you. 

There are loud thumps as Bradley bounds up the stairs, and the scene unfolds quicker than you can process. You watch as he picks your dad up and removes him from Jake, your feet carrying you to your boyfriend at lightning speed. 

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry." You weep, and you can't recall when you started crying. 

You try to look behind you as Mav struggles against Bradley, but Jake cradles your face and forces you to stay looking at him. 

"Hey, I'm fine. Look at me, sweets. Don't worry about that right now, let Rooster calm him down." 

Mav fights against the larger man with a valiant yet futile effort. Bradley considers wrapping his arms around him entirely and forcing him to stay in place but decides not to push his luck. 

Just as the thought enters his mind, Mav slams face-first into realization and stops abruptly. 

"Did you know about this?" 

Bradley swallows and retreats with slow steps as Mavs wrath is re-focused on him. He feels like he's going toe to toe with a wild animal and wonders if playing dead would work.

"I may or may not have had a teeny bit of knowledge about the situation." He says cautiously, and your dad's eyes narrow into thin slits. 

"You didn't think to tell me?" He snaps, and Bradley raises his hands defensively. 

"It wasn't my place. Besides, based on this reaction, can you blame us for keeping you in the dark?" 

He immediately wishes he could take it back when Mavs fist clenches at his side. You briefly consider making a break for it and going into witness protection, but you don't have the chance before your dad's attention is back on you. 

"You know how this ends, Y/N. I have told you time and time again not to get caught up with men like him." 

His voice is softer now but still holds an edge, and Jake's arm tightens around your waist. Mav doesn't miss the subtle shift; his jaw ticks upon seeing the man's hand on his only daughter. 

In his defense, he's been through this with you before. He and Bradley are so protective because you've had your heart broken more than once by hotshot military men, and you never seem to learn your lesson. 

You know this time is different, though. You just have to get your dad to see it. 

"He's not like that, dad. He's different. I trust him." Your voice is small and Mav shakes his head. 

"You always think that! They're all different in the beginning, but it always ends the same. Let's go." He motions toward the door, but your feet stay glued in place. 

"No."

His head whips around to look at you, and you almost laugh at how high his eyebrows are raised. You've got a history of defying him, but you've never blatantly told him no to his face before. 

"Excuse me?" 

You stand a little straighter now and take a step forward, but Jake keeps his hand on the curve of your spine. 

"I said no. I'm not leaving, and I'm not wrong. This isn't the beginning when you're still under some spell, and this isn't going to end with me heartbroken."

Your dad scoffs and places a hand on his hip, clearly over this entire ordeal. 

"What do you mean this isn't the beginning?" 

You take a deep breath and try to steady your voice before answering, and Bradley looks like he wants to die. Being buried next to Jake doesn't sound so bad if it gets him out of this. 

He knows your response will send Mav into another tailspin, and he braces himself, ready to jump in again if he has to. 

"Jake and I have been dating for six months. I love him, and he loves me." 

There it is, the nuclear bomb. The words hang in the air as Mav processes the information, and his eyes dart back and forth absentmindedly as he does the math. 

"You've been seeing him since you got here?"

You can see the hurt on his features for the first time since he arrived, making your stomach twist. His shoulders drop, and all the fight leaves his body. 

"It started out as a fling. We never meant for it to get this serious. We were going to tell you but time just kept passing and it got to the point that we didn't know how to anymore." You explain gently, and he sits on Jake's bed before jolting back up. 

"God only knows what's happened in those sheets, can we go to the living room or something?" He asks with his face scrunched in disgust, and you huff a short laugh through your nose. 

The four of you go downstairs and sit in the living room as your dad continues raking over every interaction he has ever seen you have with Jake in his mind. 

"How did you manage to keep this a secret from everyone when you all work together? Or am I the only one that doesn't know?" 

You shake your head and lay on Jake's shoulder. Your migraine has upgraded to a jackhammer doing to town on the inside of your skull, and you want nothing more than to take a painkiller and close your eyes. 

"No one else knows. We haven't told them, at least." 

Mav nods and settles into the armchair, clearly making himself at home as he props his feet up on the coffee table. You feel the waves of displeasure rolling off of Jake. The man is religious about keeping the house clean, and his eye is already twitching at the fact your dad still has his shoes on. 

You're about to say something when a more pressing matter comes to your attention. 

"Wait, how did you know I'm here?" You frown, and Mav freezes. You give him the signature Mitchell look that tells him not to bullshit you, and he shrinks back a bit. 

"I tracked your phone when you didn’t answer my calls." He mumbles, and you lurch forward in your seat. 

"Pardon? You tracked me? How do you even have access to that? No, better yet, why do you have that? You don't think that's a tad invasive?" You half shout, and Bradley winces. 

Two angry Mitchells under one roof is never a good thing. The last time it happened, he had to make up a story to send the cops away. 

You're brought back down when Jake's large hand squeezes your thigh, and you close your eyes while taking a deep breath. That's one thing you love about this man. He's the only person you've ever met that can bring you back from the edge. 

Bradley and Mav share a look at your sudden shift in demeanor, and you know they're both thinking the same thing. Neither of them has ever been able to snuff out your temper once the fuse is lit, and the fact Jake did it without so much as a word speaks volumes. 

"Okay, I'm fine. Everything is fine." You breathe and Jake smiles. He's proud of the way you've grown since dating him. Your spitfire attitude makes him look tame. He never imagined he'd love a woman who encourages his antics rather than trying to control him. 

That's why you two work so well. You bring out his chaos, and he brings out your calm. It's the perfect ratio of give and take. The two of you bring out the best in each other, which is part of why you fell so fast. 

"Listen, dad. Jake and I are going to keep seeing each other whether you like it or not. He makes me feel safe, wild, and loved; I couldn't ask for a better man. If you could try and pull your head out of your ass for more than three seconds, you might be able to see that." 

There's another thing Jake adores about you. You never shy away from speaking your mind, and you never sugarcoat the truth. He's seen you make grown men cry, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you're the only one who could ever put the legendary Maverick in his place with little to no effort. 

Mav goes to bite back, but the look you give him has the words dying on his tongue. You're a clone of him, yet somehow even more of an immovable force. He knows there's no point in arguing; you're not going to budge. 

"Okay. I'll try to get on board." He relents, and Bradley's eyes dart between the two of you. 

Mav turns to Jake, and your boyfriend sits up, ready to take a verbal berating. 

"If you hurt her, I will ensure you never touch an F-18 again. She better never call me crying over you, Seresin, so help me god." 

You feel Jake nod next to you, and some of the tension dissipates from your shoulders. 

"Oh, and for the love of Christ, don't get my daughter pregnant." 

Bradley chokes on his spit and your eyes widen with horror. 

"Dad! Oh my god." You groan, but he stands firm in his statement. 

"I mean it. You're still at the height of your career. The last thing you need is a baby out of wedlock." 

You know it's coming from a place of love and concern, but it doesn't make it less embarrassing. No one expects Jake's response, and Bradley raises his eyebrows at you. 

"What if I marry her first?"

Mav looks genuinely taken aback, and the mouthy pilot is struck silent for the first time. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and you watch with amusement as he tries to make his brain work. 

"One thing at a time." 

At that, Bradley stands up and shoots your dad a look. 

"We should get going. It's late, and I think I speak for everyone when I say I'm ready for this to be over." 

Mav nods, and you stand to give him a hug before Jake shakes his hand. 

"Love you, dad. Love you, Roo." 

"Love you too." They say in unison, and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding when the front door closes. 

You turn to Jake with your arms crossed, an arrogant smirk painted on your lips. 

"So you want to marry me and get me pregnant, huh?" 

“Is that okay with you?” He asks and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“More than okay. Why don’t we start practicing tonight?” You suggest and his eyes darken before spinning you around to face away from him. 

“Lead the way.”

[battymommastuff]

The Accident (Pt. 2)

Batmom x Batfamily Prompt: At least you did something...

TW: VERY DARK!!!!

Part 1

"She isn't making any progress. We've tried everything from electroshock therapy to simply giving her a journal to write her feelings." 

You could hear your personal therapist talking to your husband...well ex husband by now. Your marriage died the day he put you in this damn place. What place? None other than Arkham Asylum. At first he could live with what you did, he understood what you did. Everyone understood why you did it, but what happened after...he couldn't live with it. 

Bruce watched as his wife shut down. You became a shell of what you once were. The warm, welcoming mother that everyone knew you to be died. Something cold, and sinister was left in her place. The Gotham criminals began to fear you more than Batman himself. Batman held back...he pulled his punches. You...you didn't. You couldn't. This life, the scum of Gotham took your son away from you. How could Bruce just sit there and be okay with it? 

Everything came to a boiling point when he walked into the manor with his newest sidekick, Tim Drake...

"Y/N, this is Tim Drake. He will be assisting us in our...work." Bruce said and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder. Instead of a warm greeting or a smile that one usually got when meeting Y/N Wayne, Tim got a stone cold glare. 

"Jason's grave isn't even covered in grass, and you're already replacing him?" You growled as you stood from your seat on the couch. Tim flinched at your tone, and moved back a bit. He heard such good things about you. This wasn't how he was expecting things to go. 

"Good job Bruce, get another kid...let's see how long he lasts before he's in the grave too." You spat before storming off. That night, you chose to go on patrol alone. While Bruce and Tim were doing their own thing, you were spending your night alone. As you sat perched on a ledge, watching the city that you've grown to hate, all you could think of was Tim. How could Bruce just move on so quickly? You weren't surprised. He spent most of that night scolding you and lecturing you for nearly killing the Joker. Now the bastard was in a coma, and you wished he was dead. 

The sound of a woman screaming knocked you from your thoughts, and you looked down seeing the said woman blocking her young child from an attacker. You don't know what happened at that moment, but something snapped. You weren't going to let another mother's heart be broken, or the child's. No more families were going to be broken because of scum like this. You blacked out again, and this time you came to be pinned to the brick wall by Batman. Robin was hovering over the man you'd just beaten. He pressed two fingers to his neck then looked at Batman. Robin shook his head, and then looked at you. Instead of horror, or remorse...you smirked, "At least I did something." You whispered to your husband. 

Now here you were, wasting away in the cells of Arkham. Eating food that was stale, and cold. It made you miss Alfred's cooking. Several inmates tried to gang up on you, and quickly learned why that was a bad idea. 

"The doctors are beginning to fear her. She's got a rage inside of her that can't be tamed. Whatever set her off...doesn't seem to want to fade away." Your therapist looked over at you, chained to the table that you were forced to sit at. Bruce clenched his jaw as he looked at you. You'd lost weight, and your face was sunken in. You looked half dead. 

"Then we'll find something new. I'm not giving up on her. If you can't help her, then I'll have to find someone who can." Bruce snapped. He knew that keeping you here would kill you in the end. You weren't made for a place like this. He wanted you home with him and Alfred. It was where you belonged. 

Little did he know that the solution to his problem was going to be solved...

It would be several weeks later, close to when visiting hours would end. You were sitting in your cell with your back facing the door when you heard it open. 

"Mom?"

That voice made your entire body go cold. Yes the tone was deeper, and a little gravely, but you knew that voice. The Gotham accent...it couldn't be anyone else. Slowly your head turned, and you nearly fainted when your eyes met the ones staring back at you...

To be continued...

(I know most wanted a pt.2 with Jason's reaction, but I got a little carried away lol. I promise I will make a pt.3 with his reaction!)

[shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey]

Doctor's Orders

a james wilson x gn!reader one-shot

SUMMARY: Wilson sprains his ankle, and you get to take care of him.

WARNINGS: minor injury (a sprained ankle)

WORD COUNT: 1217

The sound of faint laughter and televisions echoing through the hallways of your building made you feel at ease. It had been a long day, and to say you were relieved to finally be home was an understatement. You reciprocated James’ warm smile as you walked through the door he was holding open to your condo complex. 

"Oh, do we need to check the mailbox?" you asked him, in a half-whisper. He shook his head, and you ascended the well-worn staircase leading to your cozy condo, with James trailing just a step behind.

“Anyway, like I was saying, I think it gets too much hate. It was a fun movie,” you exclaimed, continuing up the stairs. James responded with a disapproving shake of his head.

“Agree to disagree,” he retorted playfully.

You sighed. “I’m never going to be able to convince you otherwise, am I?”

“Not a chance,” he replied, allowing his gaze to momentarily linger from the stairs to admire your presence. “And I’m never going to forgive them for what they did to–”

Suddenly, a resonant thud echoed behind you, followed by a pained groan. You gasped, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth.

“Oh– James, are you okay?”

He groaned in pain. Your heart pounded as you leaned your bag against the post at the top of the staircase before you rushed to help him.

“Here, let me help you up,” you offered, placing his arm around your shoulders and assisting him back onto his feet. He winced as his injured foot touched the ground, and you gripped the handrail tightly as you bore his weight.

"These damn stairs,” James muttered, “I really should learn to be more careful.”

"It happens to the best of us,” you reassured him, sympathetically. “Let’s get you inside and sit you down, then we can take a look at it.”

You left him waiting at the top of the stairs as you descended again to retrieve his briefcase. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, smiling fondly at you as you picked up your own bag and helped him limp to the door to his condo. Once inside, you eased him onto the sofa.

Sitting across from him on a cushioned footstool, you looked at him expectantly as he carefully examined his injury for a few minutes. You were comforted by the familiar impression of intense focus on his face; you’d seen it in his eyes doing everything from the New York Times crossword puzzle to diagnosing his cancer patients. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain when the radiator's subtle hum, unnoticed until then, ceased, leaving behind a quiet void in your condo. After a few more minutes, the weight of the silence finally became unbearably uncomfortable, and you asked:

“So… what is it?”

“Well,” he sighed, looking up at you, “I don’t think it’s broken. It feels like it’s just a sprain. Some ice, compression, rest… and I should be fully healed in a few weeks,” he said, before lifting himself onto his feet. You got up from your seat and stopped him before he could make another move.

“Okay, but the acronym is RICE. Which, if I remember correctly, means the the first rule of healing a sprained ankle… is to rest,” you pointed out, matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, but the next one is ice. I’m going to get ice before I res–”

“Hey,” you said, looking at him with feigned sternness. His eternally pleading eyes made it so hard to get genuinely angry with him. You placed your hand on his chest and lightly coaxed him back down onto the sofa. He pursed his lips and obliged, never breaking eye contact. 

“I know you’re a fancy doctor and everything but just… let me take care of you, okay? Relax, I’ll get you what you need,” you said, softening your tone and tenderly stroking his face with your thumb. You sealed your sentiment with a gentle kiss on his cheek before heading to the kitchen to get ice. James’ gaze softened and he smiled as he watched you make your way to the freezer before he picked up the nearest magazine. He swiveled on the sofa to lay back and let his injured foot rest on the armrest.

When you returned with some ice wrapped in a towel and a compression wrap, you found James nodded off with his magazine open on his stomach. You lightened your footsteps as you approached him to avoid disturbing him, a gentle smile creeping onto your face. Kneeling on the floor by his head, you cupped his face with your hand and gingerly stroked his cheek, then lightly ran your fingers through his soft curls, stirring him awake. 

“Hmm?” 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Your fingers tingled as you felt him melt under your touch. “I got some ice and a bandage. For compression, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. You got up off the ground, pulled the footstool over to the sofa’s armrest, and applied the ice to his ankle. He lifted his head just barely enough to see what you were doing. There was a subtle glint of worry in his eye, and you reassured him it was going to be okay.

“You can go back to sleep, you know,” you whispered. James let his head fall backwards and stared blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander, first shuffling through his list of dying patients, then to plotting how he was going to get back at House for that stupid prank he had pulled on him earlier, then to how he forgot to ask Cuddy about the budget for new equipment for the oncology department, and finally back to you. Every aspect of his job as an oncologist dictated that he was to be a caretaker, and to have someone take care of him was overwhelming, in a good way. As a generally independent person, he wasn’t used to being shown this level of compassion. He felt his heart grow warm thinking about how lucky he was to have you looking after him, how good you were to him, and how much he loved you.

“All done,” you whispered, satisfied with your work. Wilson once again looked up at his now-bandaged foot, then at you. His movement startled you briefly, as you assumed he had gone back to sleep like you had suggested. “Woah, I thought you were asleep? I was just about to go get a sticker for you, you were very well behaved,” you grinned.

He rolled his eyes playfully and unsuccessfuly tried to suppress a smile. “That’s a solid wrapping job, perfect even.” he approved. Your eyes sparkled with pride, and he instantly felt a familiar warm, fuzzy sensation coursing through him. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, you planted a tender kiss on his lips that left him feeling entirely flushed, and as you were about to walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in for another kiss, this time more passionate. 

“Mmm… just what the doctor ordered.” His warm breath lingered against your skin, and his expression turned more serious as he looked into your eyes. “I love you, you know,” he confessed, earnestly.

“I know,” you giggled. “I love you too.”

@iamthatonefangirl @dr-juliaogden

[cherry-pop-elf]

Realistic

George Weasley x Reader

You broke up with your ex, but said ex refuses to believe you moved on. That you found better than him. So, you figured you had to prove you did. Time to call a favor

Warnings: 18+, topics of abusive ex, satisfying revenge, ablism, oral sex (male receiving) public, choking (very light) fake dating, voyeurism, peeping Tom, Very Soft George, cuckholding? Sorta? Not really? But like maybe on a technical level?

Writing Comission’s Open

“George, pretend to be my boyfriend.” You asked, quickly. Hardly gave him a chance to even look over his shoulder, when he saw a man storming into his shop. Looking utterly pissed, and you anxious. He’s got a little sister, and plenty of brothers. As if he needed to put two and two together. His arm was quickly around your side, and he leaned into you. As if it was all natural.

“Was wondering when you would get here, Jellybean!” He announced, making your ex quickly look over to you two. His stare hardened, and George stared right back. Snearing. Keeping up a smug complexion through it all. You quickly stuffed yourself into his arm. As if trying to hide, as your ex came over. Nearly stomping in the process.

“The hell you doing with em-?Your ex demanded. “Uh…..Snuggling? Kissing? Whatever we want in MY shop-?” George would puzzle, as he was wondering where the such nerve came from. George would make sure to keep you close, with a hand on your hip, as he protected you. You would rest your head on his shoulder, and took in the comforting scent of fireworks and sugar. Helped you get grounded, as your ex was looking ready to fight.

“That’s what Im suppose to do, you fucking cripple-“ The man snapped, making you gasp. You were about to say something, but George was quick to slap a hand on your mouth. Knowing damn well what you would say next might get you slapped. As if he wanted that.

“Really? That’s your first course of action? Get creative buddy. Could have said something impressive. Like One Eared Arrogant Bastard. Like that’s creative. Just dropping heavy words like that doesn’t make you smart. Even Malfoy got creative.” George mocked, making you giggle. That was something you admired about him. His ability to go with the flow. Able to fight with words so easy.

“I-“ He tried to say something else, but George cut right in. “Do you sound smart to make up for the fact you don’t have a personality? Even Percy had more of one than you. What about that temper? Short temper isn’t the only thing short, is there?” George egged on and on. Wasn’t long before people were watching, and giggling. Leaving him red faced.

“How about-“ And the man was storming off. You couldn’t help your relief, as you relaxed into George. He seemed gone, but not entirely. You noticed he was still outside. Just far enough away from the shop to not be loitering. That made your stomach drop. Seemed you were dodging a bullet, and George was making sure there was plenty of cover.

“Guess he isn’t buying it…..Wanna help make sure he does?” He offered, as you rose a brow. At this point, you would do anything to get that bastard off your back. Was being a total creep now. Just waiting for you outside. With a nod, you gave your consent. George would soon whistle at someone, who would nod, as he was taking you towards the back.

“Let’s give him a show~” He offered, before you were pushed out of a side door. Your body hit against the neighboring building, as your lips met. You were wide eyed, until you noticed your ex peeking from around the alley way corner. Guess a show will be what it takes. Couldn’t imagine a better person to trust yourself with anyway.

You couldn’t help it either, as you melted into the kiss. Your hands fighting at his suit jacket, while he explored your mouth. Leaving your tongue to taste like sweet orange flavored candy. The scent of ash, the taste of sweet, and the feeling of heat. It was getting you more excited than you wanted to admit.

“Come on, love, on your knees.” He whispered, as he threw the jacket to the ground. Despite how rough he was acting, the fact he gave you his suit jacket for your knees spoke volumes. Even in the heat of the moment, he was trying to make sure you were given the best care. Made your heart sing, as you let your knees rest on the expensive fabric. Right all over the dirty alley way.

He was quick to take his belt off, and adjust his vest and dress shirt. Everything was moving so fast. There was such a thrill from it. A spur of the moment. Just no thoughts, only desire. Was so exciting. Gave you such a pleasure you didn’t know you could get. Weren’t even doing anything. Yet.

“Open that pretty little mouth-“ He asked, and you did. Just as he pulled his cock out from his pants, making your heart pound with excitement. You were really about to do this. You felt like you were in a wet dream. You always did find George so attractive. Never thought you would ever score a chance. Yet, it was this easy. Those Weasleys and their big hearts.

You let the tip pass your lips, and swallowed. His hand was gentle in your hair, as he let you go at your own pace. Not forcing it down your throat, and letting you take your time in adjusting. Letting you control your breathing, as your hands found his thighs. Just those deep breaths of fire works, and sugar. Was hypnotic.

Once you felt well adjusted, you forced your head further down. Your signal to let him keep going, and going he did. How he tangled his fingers in your hair, and forced you deeper down his cock. To the point your nose brushed against that ginger hair. Made you gag, by how much, but you quickly relaxed. Knowing you were in safe hands.

“Better be louder. I’m crippled, after all~” He teases, making you unable to stop the giggle around his cock. That earned you a moan from him, as the vibrations ran up through his body. God did his moans sound like sweet music to your ears. It gave you the motivation to try and take lead a little bit. Pulling yourself to the tip, and moaning around it.

He was soon leaning against the wall of his shop, as he was at your mercy now. His free hand busy with keeping his vest and shirt up. Exposing that slender stomach. Happy trail, freckles, and ink. Such a dashing man, with many scars. You were the lucky one to get to see it. See it all. Like how his face was flushing, and his kept hair ruffling. It was addictive.

Up and down you bobbed, as you kept your grip tight on his slender thighs. Not quite as meaty as his upper arms, given his beater history. Still was great to grab, as you milked him for more sounds. Such as the hisses, and whimpers when you ran your tongue over a vein just right. Oh you didn’t know who was in more heaven.

“Fuck, Im going to cum. Oh fuck-“ He gritted his teeth, and made an attempt to pull you off. How considerate. You figured that kind gesture deserved a reward. So, you fought against his hand. That surprised him, as you would force yourself deep down again. Moaning, as you returned to his base. Looking right up at him, and locking with those pretty doe eyes. That was the last straw.

He let his head roll back, as he came down your throat. You coughed, but you were handling it like a champ. Using those thighs for support, as you watched his stomach spasm from the pleasure you gave him. How those pretty cheeks were so flushed, and his ear so red. Oh what you would give to see more of that.

Once he was breathing steady, you finally pulled off. You panted, as he cupped your cheek. His thumb rubbing away at the spit that ran down your chin. You didn’t know if your ex was still there, and genuinely didn’t care anymore. The tender moment was to sweet to make you think about anything else.

“Say….Think maybe we can do this again some time? Gotta keep up appearances and all~” He winked, as it was your turn to be blushing. All flustered, as he would put himself away. Along with being a gentlemen, and helping you off the ground. With his jacket as well.

With a quick spell, the jacket was clean. Just some tidying up, as you were still a soft pink. Same for himself. A stupid grin on his face was keeping you flushed as well. Especially with the arm hooked around you, as you returned inside. Having to keep up appearances after all. Just for appearances.

“My lunch break should be soon, wouldn’t mind some drinks with you. Gotta wash that down after all.” He offered, making you elbow his delicate rib. He wheezed, but laughed. Yeah. Maybe this fake dating thing will really put your ex in his place. Severs him right for losing such a catch like you. Least George was the lucky one to nab you, wasn’t he?

@george-weasleys-girl

[soapsilly]

Reunion - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: It's been five years since Zoro had to leave (Y/N) and their son. Five years since he promised he'd come back for them. Now that they finally found the One Piece, will Zoro be able to choose between life as a pirate and his young family?

A/N: This is Part 3 for Betrayal and Redemption, so read that first... or don't. Who am I to tell you anything?

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

Zoro swore under his breath as he turned the corner and found himself on the same market place yet again. It's been five years since he's last been on this damn island but nothing about this fucking village seemed familiar to him. He's been wandering around for what felt like an eternity but realistically couldn't have been more than two hours or so. The townspeople were muttering and mumbling behind their hands once they spotted him. He didn't know if they recognized him from when him and his crew saved the village five years ago or if they had seen his wanted poster in the newspapers. Ever since the Straw Hats finally found the One Piece and made Luffy Pirate King, there hasn't been an issue without their faces plastered on the cover page.

After he rounded the same corner for yet another time, he had to admit defeat. Zoro just knew, (Y/N) would've found his abymsal sense of direction hilarious, if she were there. Often she would have him lead the way just to see where they'd end up, knowing full well that they'd been walking in the wrong direction all along. The memory triggered a familiar pain in his chest - one that would always appear whenever he thought about the girl he had to leave behind. He had promised to come back for her. Her and their son... Sora.

Zoro had thought a lot about them these last couple of years. The boy that was barely even a toddler when he last saw them - and yet clearly looked so much like him already - must've been around seven years now. Would he remember him? Could he forgive his father for leaving him and his mother behind? Did (Y/N) even want him to return? It's been so many years with no contact. Maybe she decided to finally move on. These were the thoughts that tormented Zoro these past couple of months during night watches. After they found the One Piece he wanted nothing more than to return to (Y/N) as soon as possible but the journey was long - many opportunities for his mind to wander.

"Hey, Zoro", Nami pulled him from his thoughts. The swordsman only grunted in return.

"I bet you're glad to finally see (Y/N) again after all those years, huh?", the navigator continued. She could sense the nervousness that surrounded her friend these last couple of weeks. She didn't blame him, she'd be nervous aswell.

"I guess", the mosshead has never been a man of many words.

"Do you miss her?", Nami's voice was quiet but he could hear her clearly. The Thousand Sunny was almost silent during those night hours - a stark contrast to it's chaotic state during the day.

Zoro didn't answer at first. Of course he missed her. He missed her everyday. Especially at night, when the two of them would sit down with (Y/N)'s homemade liquor to talk about anything and everything. It was then that Zoro got to truly open up.

"I do, you know?", Nami continued when she sensed the swordfighters struggles to find the right words.

"What if - what if I took to long?", Zoro turned to face the red-head. Talking about his feelings made him uncomfortable but Nami was (Y/N)'s friend. If anybody could help him tame the chaos in his mind it would be her.

The woman knew exactly what he was referring to. No need to elaborate. A sympathetic expression took over her features.

"Nonsense, you know her. It's (Y/N). I doubted her once... I won't make the same mistake twice. Trust me she waited", Nami didn't enjoy thinking back to way she treated her friend back then when she thought that (Y/N) had betrayed the crew during those two years they were separated. She knew, (Y/N) told her not to worry about it - that she'd have acted the same way - but the memories still hurt. Nami was determined to trust her friend this time around. They were Nakama after all...

Zoro sent her a nod but he wasn't quite sure if he actually believed what the red-head said or if he was only trying to convince himself.

"Oi, you two!", Zoro had enough of wandering around the market place, "I'm looking for uh - the witch?"

Their eyes widened when the two men realized who was standing before them.

"Oh, you're that Pirate Hunter dude! You found the One Piece", one of them answered.

"Yes, yes! Roronoa Zuko or something", the other guy agreed.

Zoro had to take a deep breath as to not lose his temper.

"The witch. Where can I find her?", he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yeah", one of them drawled out, "I'm sorry, man, but she died - like what? A few years back?"

Zoro couldn't hear a word from the bickering that followed about whether it's been two or three years already. All he could think about was the fact that he came too late. He felt panic rise up in his chest. This wasn't a situation he could fight his way out of. And what about their son? Where was he and who took care of him? He never felt so helpless before. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - until a new voice interrupted his strings of thought.

"No, you idiots! He's looking for my mom", Zoro's eyes grew wide when he saw whom the voice belonged to. There was no doubt that the little boy before them was his son. He had the same green hair, the same lopsided grin - albeit a few of his teeth missing. Zoro felt like his head was spinning. He didn't know what to feel. Relief because apparently (Y/N) was well? Happiness? Fear? He had thought about this moments so many times but nothing could have actually prepared him for when it actually came to meeting his son. He had honestly relied on (Y/N) being there and guiding him through the situation but fate had some different plans for him that day. It was almost comical - how was he expected to handle these kind of situations when he couldn't even deal his own emotions most of the time.

"Right, right, right", one of the two men seemed to remember what the boy was talking about, "You mean (Y/N)! Oi, he means (Y/N)!"

Out of all the people Zoro could've asked, of course it had to be these two morons. He was just about to lose his temper, breathing heavy already, but his mini-me reminded him why he was even there to begin with. That didn't stop him from giving them the death glare as he followed Sora away from these two idiots, who by the looks of it didn't even notice it anyways as they were still deep in discussion about God knows what.

"They're idiots", the little boy's voice pulled Zoro out of his thoughts, "Mom's fine"

The swordsman noticed that the little guy didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, he started talking to Zoro as if he had known him his whole life.

"They were talking about Mim...", he continued. Zoro remembered the old hag that mentored (Y/N) during their initial two year separation. He met her briefly. She was old. Ancient even. His heart ached for his lover. He was glad that she had someone on this island. Some kind of support. He felt better knowing someone was there for her - that she wasn't alone. And still, the older woman was yet another person that left her to fend for herself. He knew his thoughts were merely a projections of his own guilty conscience. That it was actually him that left his girlfriend behind.

"We knew you'd come", the little boy happily babbled on as he led the way out of the village towards the edge of the forrest, "The others said you wouldn't come but Mom knew"

The little boy may have inherited his looks but Zoro noticed that his essence - the way he just happily talked and talked without a care in the world - was all (Y/N).

"Look!", the witch ran up to the swordsman and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him with her.

"What's going on? Who's hurt?", his free hand immediately found it's way to the swords that were hung closely by his hip.

"Huh? No one?", she scrunched up her face adorably, "Look what I found!"

Zoro could hear the excitement in her voice as she pulled him up to a meadow she had found while exploring the new island the Straw Hats stopped at. Her eyes marveled at all the flowers, plants and herbs that grew all over the place.

"Isn't it beautiful?", she turned to him wide a wide smile.

"Depends", Zoro grunted.

"On what?", her face fell. The mosshead noticed that cute little crease between her eyebrows that appeared whenever she was in deep thought or confused.

"Well, depends on how many of these plants could kill me"

"Most of them", she shrugged but couldn't help the happy laugh that left her lips, "Come on now"

With that she grabbed his hand again, already talking about what each plant could be used for, taking samples as she went, shoving them into the swordsman's arms so that he could carry them for her. Zoro didn't understand a word she was saying. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed her rambling about potions and balms.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Zoro smiled to himself as the memory played in his head.

"We're almost there", the little boy shouted over his shoulder.

And indeed, not even two minutes later (Y/N)'s little hut appeared before them. The mosshead noticed how similar to his lover the house looked. It was small. Whimsical. A plethora of flowers decorated the little gardenspace in the front. All in all a peaceful sight. But appearences can be deceptive. He knew that most of the plants were poisonous. No matter how beautiful they seemed, even a little dose could be deadly.

"Mommy!", the little boy yelled out as they approached the house, "Mommy, look!"

It wasn't even thirty seconds until the door to the hut swung open and (Y/N) hurried out, a dish rag clutched in one of her hands.

"What did you do now? Whatever it is that you caught, you better-", (Y/N) dropped the dish towel when her eyes fell onto the mosshead. Zoro's heart skipped several beats when he realized how close they were. All these years apart and yet he still felt like it was yesterday that the two of them kissed under the moonlight. She was beautiful. Eventhough she looked exhausted, she was clearly the girl he fell in love with. His (Y/N).

Sora excitedly ran up to his mother, squealing happily, "He's back! Look, Mommy. You were right. He came!"

(Y/N) patted his head - stroking the green hair - almost mechanical, her wide eyes remained on the swordsman. Her lips slightly parted as if she was trying to come up with something to say but struggling to find the words.

"Yes, love... I can see that", her voice was full of shock but she still did her best to sound excited for her son.

Zoro felt self-conscious. He didn't know what to do. Should he say something? Walk up to her? Would she even want that? He scolded himself. Why did he take a seven year old's word for it?

The mosshead was so busy with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice her walking up to him and practically flinging herself into his arms. Her head comfortably found it's place underneath his chin. Zoro got emotional as her scent filled his nose. For a moment they just stood there.

"I knew you'd come", he heard her whisper against his chest.

"Always", he answered as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

When she looked up at him, he could see the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He was just about to wipe them away with his thumbs, when their son - their son - interrupted the moment together.

"Mommy, I found him", he smiled brightly as he squeezed himself between his parents' legs.

(Y/N) hastily wiped her tears away before clapping in her hands once. An excited smile present on her lips, "You're right, Honey! And I think we'll need to celebrate that!"

"A party?", the little boy looked up at her with bright eyes, "Can we - can we make a cake for dad?"

Dad... Zoro noticed how the green-headed boy's voice tripped over itself due to the sheer excitement. The swordsman blinked a few times at the mention of his new title. He felt a strange feeling in his stomach area. Of course, he was his dad. There was no doubt about that. And of course, he wanted to be - of course. But still it felt so strange being called that, being welcomed back with open arms like that. He felt (Y/N)'s eyes flicker over to him before turning back to the child.

"Well, I'm sure your father would much rather celebrate with a good bottle of rum... Here", she handed the little boy some bills, "go back into the village and buy him a nice bottle at Old Mickey's place, yes? And when you're back, we'll bake something nice anyways"

Zoro's eyes widened. Did she really sent their son to buy hard liquor for them?

"Yes, Mommy!", the little guy nodded enthusiastically and skipped away.

"Did you just sent our seven year old to buy alcohol? Who in their right mind would sell alcohol to a child?", the swordsman raised his brows.

The witch shrugged, "Hopefully no one. I mean, they know him 'round here but still. He's only seven", she grinned, "Besides, you know I have my own liquor. You didn't forget about that, did you?"

The concerned look on her face hit Zoro straight in the heart. How could she ever think that he'd forget just a single thing about her?

"Okay but... I still don't understand", he furrowed his brows, "Why did you sent him away then?"

"Of course, you don't", she started laughing as she grabbed his hand to guide him into the hut, "Sora is so happy that you're here. Haven't seen him like that since that one time Mim made him float through the air... You seemed overwhelmed though. Sorry that he found you first. Ever since I told him about how you guys found the One Piece he's been patroling the island for when you'd arrive. He can be pretty stubborn you know? Thought I'd give you some space..."

(Y/N) grew quiet towards the end when she noticed her rambling.

"You- you told him about me?", Zoro was shocked.

"Well, of couse", she looked at him with those eyes - those eyes that he couldn't resist, "We always read the newspaper together during breakfast, you know? He loves hearing about your adventures. He wants to be a swordsman just like you. Or a devil fruit user like Luffy... Or both"

The swordfighter's chest swole with pride as he imagined his son wanting to be just like him. Maybe he could teach him?

"I missed you", her voice was low. Merely a whisper.

"I missed you too", he answered thruthfully, "I thought about you everyday"

And with that he crashed his lips onto hers. For the first time in five years he felt at peace. Like a she was the missing piece that finally completed him again.

When they eventually separated, she smiled at him, her hands already tracing circles on his thighs.

"You know? There's another benefit of us having some alone time", she mumbled against his lips, already climbing on top of him, "The downside? We won't have long..."

"After five years?", he panted, "I won't last long anyways"

The giggle that followed was like music to his ears. This didn't play out like he had imagined but with them the things rarely do. At the moment he was just happy to be back with his love - how her lips felt against his own. How her hands roamed his body. How hot her skin felt against his.

************************************************************************

"That scar wasn't there last time I saw you", she traced the pale pink line that decorated his side.

He shrugged. Being the Pirate King's first mate came with it's price.

"Neither were those", he gestured towards the little pictures that were plastered all over her ribcage. Each tattoo symbolized one member of the crew. A straw hat, three katanas, a clementine - even a little violine that represented Brook.

"This way I had you with me... Wherever you guys may have been", her voice was quiet. Peaceful.

"I see...", Zoro thought about her words. He knew she chose to stay behind but it couldn't have been easy for her. The Straw Hats were her family and even after all those years, she never stopped thinking about them as such, "But did you really have to get one for the ero-cook, too?"

He pulled a face. He didn't like the thought of any part of that pervert being anywhere near (Y/N)'s naked body - even if it was just some ink.

She laughed at how whiny he sounded as he fixated on the little lighter that resembled the one Sanji would always carry around with himself.

"So I take it, the two of you have not become best buddies then?"

Her question was only met with a contemptuous snort.

"Where are they anyways?", she continued - more serious this time.

"I asked them to drop me off here. Wanted to have some time alone with you before they would come barging in causing chaos again"

"That's almost romantic", she smiled, "For your standards, I mean"

"Wow, thanks a lot", he sarcastically replied but secretly he loved the way she just seamlessly picked up where they left off. There was no awkwardness. No unfamiliarity.

"They'll join us here in a couple of days...", the mosshead continued.

"Wow, it's going to be so strange seeing them again", she spoke moreso to herself than to anyone in particular.

"You don't have to be nervous... You're still part of the crew", Zoro's hand reached out to play with (Y/N)'s hair. A glimmer of hurt flickered over her face. It wasn't even a second but the swordsman still noticed.

"Well, we'll see about that", she forced herself to sound cheerful, "For now, let's celebrate. We should get dressed, Sora could be back any time now"

And with that she pushed herself off the bed to get dressed. A sight Zoro could get used to. This domestic life. A little house. A family. He never wanted this, never dreamed of it. But right this moment, this didn't seem so bad.

(Y/N) was right, not long after the two of them got dressed they heard the happy voice of their son approaching from outside.

"Here, Mommy", the little boy pushed the bottle of rum, he was carrying towards his mother.

"What the-? Sora!", Zoro watched his girlfriend as she struggled to find the right words, "Did Old Mickey seriously sell you this?"

"Oh, no. Here!", Sora reached into his backpocket and handed his mother the bills back that she had given him before he left.

"I don't -", she took a deep breath to compose herself, "Sora, why do you have this?"

"Old Mickey didn't want to sell me the rum. He said I was too young. I told him it was for Dad but he wouldn't believe me!", the child sounded appalled.

"So, instead of just coming back and getting one of us - you just stole it?", his mother was in disbelief but the little boy just shrugged.

"Fuck, Sora. You know that's not okay! I thought I taught you better than this"

"Oi!", Zoro interjected, "Cut the boy some slack! At least he's honest"

"Honest?", the swordsman couldn't help but laugh at how shocked his girlfriend looked, "He just stole a bottle of rum, Zoro!"

"Yeah, well but he didn't keep the money though", Zoro grinned, "He could've said that he bought the alcohol and bag the money for himself. Besides, what did you expect? You told him to go buy some rum"

"Well, not my proudest moment as a parent I guess", she massaged the bridge of her nose.

The swordsman decided to walk over to the witch, hugging her and pressing a kiss against her temple.

"Don't sweat it. We can't all be perfect"

Her content smile quickly turned into a slap to the biceps once she registered the words her boyfriend just said. He wasn't usually known for joking around - sure a few sarcastic remarks directed at the cook but other than that, the mosshead was always rather serious.

"Guys, you'll never believe what I witnessed last night", Usopp excitedly told the rest of the crew during breakfast. It was the morning after (Y/N) and Zoro's first drunken night together. Neither of them joined the crew for breakfast, too hungover from the night before.

Immediately Chopper and Luffy were intrigued. Leaning forward eager to hear what their friend had to say.

"Last night when I had guard duty I saw Zoro with (Y/N) goofing around", Usopp revealed waiting for his friends to be as excited for the newly aquired information as he was but the desired reaction remained absent.

"So what? (Y/N) is always goofing around", Nami shrugged, popping another blueberry into her mouth.

"No! No,no. Zoro was goofing around too", Usopp insisted.

The breakfast table remaind silent for a few seconds before the whole crew broke out in laughter.

"Yeah sure", Sanji grinned, "When I made my rounds last night, the marimo and (Y/N)-san enjoyed a few drinks together. Not that that alcoholic could distinguish a good wine from dishwater", he finished bitterly.

"Typical Usopp", Chopper agreed, hinting towards the snipers affinity towards bending the truth to make up the wildest stories.

"I mean it though", Usopp whined. Why wouldn't anybody believe him?, "They did impressions and everything! Zoro's impression of Sanji was actually pretty hilarious"

It took a few more rounds of convincing but slowly one after the other the Straw Hats started believeing the sniper.

"I knew she was a real witch... She cast a spell on him", Chopper whispered almost fearful of (Y/N)'s abilities.

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It was night and Zoro laid awake (Y/N) peacefully sleeping in his arms. It was a good day. Sora seemed to have alot of fun asking all kinds of questions about their adventures, fish-men and how to become a swordsman. So why couldn't he sleep?

He gently pushed (Y/N) off of him, hoping not to wake her, and got up to get some fresh air. It would only be a couple of days more until the rest of his crew would arrive. Zoro didn't know how he felt about that.

"Leaving already?", (Y/N)'s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I tried not to wake you", Zoro knew his love was just teasing him.

"Well, you failed", she laughed as she walked up to him, hugging his biceps, "What's wrong with you? Do you already regret coming back for us?"

Zoro could still hear the smile in her voice but he knew her well enough to also hear the hint of genuine concern that swung along with it.

"Of course not!", the swordfighter was appaled, "You were all I could think about ever since finding the One Piece"

"What is it then?"

"I guess I feel guilty"

"Guilty? For what?"

"I know you said it was fine and that you made the decision yourself but all of this - raising Sora by yourself - it must've been so...", he struggled to find the words, "And - and... Sora! He's great and I missed so much. I just don't understand how - how ... How can you just forgive me?"

(Y/N) just listened to his word-vomit, letting him spill his feelings. It was rare that he said that many words without interruption - especially not with that deep of a meaning.

"Oh, Zoro...", the witch cooed, "You're thinking to much about all of this. It's really quite easy... There's nothing to forgive"

She shrugged. The mosshead tried to protest but she wouldn't have it, shutting him down immediately.

"There is nothing to forgive", she repeated this time more forcefully, "We are happy that you're here"

(Y/N) sent him a questioning look as if to ask if he understood her. A loving smile lit up her face when he finally nodded in return.

"Very good", she sighed, "And now let's get back to bed. Your son is a morning person"

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These last remaining days just flew by. Zoro enjoyed spending time with his little family and he was almost a little sad that their crew would disturb their peace.

"(Y/N)!", Luffy flung himself into the witch's arms, wrapping himself around her.

Her happy laugh filled the air.

"I'm so happy to see you all again", she grinned, "Congratulations! I guess I'm in the presence of royalty now"

(Y/N) was still busy greeting all of her friends when Nami spotted a certain green-haired boy hiding behind his mother's legs.

"As happy as I am to see you, (Y/N), where is my little nephew?", the navigator feigned.

The witch grinned, not being used to her son being timid.

"Guys, this is Sora. He's a big fan"

Nami crouched down, pulling the little boy into her chest and immediately peppering his face with kisses.

"Oooooh Nami-swaaaaan, you're so loving and kind~", Sanji was smitten with the way the red-head acted around the child.

Once Nami released Sora from her grasp, the cook leaned down holding out his hand for the little mosshead to shake.

"My name is Sanji and I'm-"

Sanji was interrupted by the little boy kicking him in the shin.

"Sora!", (Y/N) scolded her son.

Zoro couldn't hold back his laughter, patting his son on the shoulder to show his approval.

"Sanji, I'm so sorry!", the witch fussed over the cook.

"Like father like son, huh?", Sanji scowled at Zoro who still couldn't stop laughing.

"Yep", the swordsman had never been more proud in his life.

"Sora, apologize right this instant", the Straw Hats had never heard (Y/N) be this strict.

"C'mon, Babe! What happened? Out of anybody you instigated the most fights", Zoro was still laughing.

It was true. She always found the little fights her boyfriend and the cook would have hilarious. That's why she told her son about them during their bedtime stories but that didn't mean Sora could just do as he pleased.

"No fighting now", Nami interjected, "Sanji, make some food. We need to celebrate. The crew is finally back together"

Sanji did as he was told, happy to be of service. And he didn't disappoint. The meal he created was nothing short of a feast. There was more food than they could possibly eat - if it weren't for Luffy of course. Brook played some happy tunes. And (Y/N) felt at peace, it was just like back when she was still part of the crew. She was just getting to know Jinbei as she watched Sora dance arm in arm with Luffy, Chopper and Usopp, his legs dangling in the air. Her eyes wandered over to Zoro, who was enjoying a drink at the moment and she decided then and there to just let her mind rest for the night and worry about what's to come once the party was over.

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It's been a few days since (Y/N) and her son joined the Straw Hats on the Thousand Sunny. Sora didn't leave Zoro's side even once. The little boy loved watching his father practice and even begged him to teach him some. Zoro didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy spending time with his son just as much. Seeing the two people she loved most - being with her nakama again - all of this felt right. This made it all the more tragic when Nami anounced they'd have to leave soon.

"Great! (Y/N), go get your stuff. Sanji and Franky can help you carry everything", Luffy sounded happy, "Sora can stay here on the ship with us while you do that"

It was Sabaody all over again. Five years ago (Y/N) had to have the same conversation with her crew. She knew Zoro had obligations as Luffy's first mate, so she tried to savour their time together while it lasted. Maybe he'd visit them every couple of years - at least she hoped he would for Sora's sake. Her heart ached as she thought about the little boy. He loved his father so much. Losing him now would devastate him. (Y/N) tried to ignore the fact that she felt the same way.

She sighed, "Luffy... A pirate ship is still no place for a child. Especially now that you are pirate king. You've got a target on your back. All of you"

As if on command all of the Straw Hats yelled some kind of suggestion or protest - even Sora pleaded for his mother to reconsider.

The witch leaned down to be on eye-level with her son, taking both of his hands in her own, "I'm so sorry, Honey... but I promise they can visit us anytime. They found us once... They'll find us again"

She tried to sound cheerful so that her son didn't notice how hard this was for her but she could feel the tears forming already.

"No!", Sora screamed, "I want to be a pirate. Just like Dad!"

Before (Y/N) could answer, Luffy interjected.

"That's a great idea! I was seven when I started my pirate training!"

"But that's not the same!", (Y/N) had never raised her voice at Luffy before so when she realized her yelling she took a deep breath to calm herself, "Luffy, you were a devil fruit user already. Your grandfather is Garp and you spent a significant amount of time with Shanks. Sora is... just a child"

The crew was quiet as (Y/N) unloaded all her frustrations.

"Listen, I was so happy to see you again but I'm not part of your crew anymore and I haven't been for a long time. All those things you've accomplished - everything you've done - I took no part in it. These last couple of days were special but I'm need to take care of my family"

"But we are your family", Nami pleaded. She could only try to imagine how (Y/N) must feel. She knew her well. She knew that (Y/N) wanted to stay. She knew she would never ask Zoro to leave the crew for them because (Y/N) knew that Zoro would do so without hesitation. He loved her more than anything. Anyone could see that. But Nami also knew that (Y/N) was scared.

"I'm sorry...", the other woman shook her head, signaling for her son to say goodbye to the crew.

"Enough", Zoro had been quiet during most of the discussion but he had heard enough.

(Y/N)'s eyes were wide as she stared at her lover.

"I accepted your decision five years ago. I understood that it wasn't safe. I got stronger. We all did. We found the One Piece and made Luffy pirate king. I trained day and night to become the best. The strongest. And then I returned to you. I came back. I will not lose you yet again. Do you hear me?", he sounded almost angry, "I love you more than anything. You and our son. I love that he has your personality. I love that he wants to become a swordfighter just like me. You are not leaving and that's it"

"Zoro...", (Y/N) sighed.

"No! Just no. We can protect you. There's a fight? Fine! We'll fight, you'll go below deck and stay there with Sora until the coast is clear. What about school? I know you're going to ask. You are smart. So is Robin. You can teach him. Fuck, even Chopper can"

(Y/N) could see Robin nodding from where she was standing.

"Zoro-"

"No!", he wasn't finished, "What do you want me to do? Stay with you? Leave the crew? I will... Just say a word and I will"

The witch marched over to where the mosshead was getting increasingly more desperate by the minute. Once she reached him she put her hands on either side of her face.

"Zoro!", she almost yelled.

"What?"

"We'll stay"

The whole crew errupted in cheers as Zoro grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around, pressing a deep kiss on her lips. (Y/N) squealed in surprise - not only by his sudden movement but also because it was the first time that he had initiated closeness between the two of them when other people were around.

"But I swear, if anything happens to us, I'll curse you", she giggled once he sat her down on the ground again.

"I would never let that happen", he assured her.

(Y/N) knew things wouldn't be easy but they were her family and she trusted them. It's been years since she felt like she truly belonged somewhere but seeing her son so happy, she knew she made the right decision.

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Epilogue

Zoro had meanwhile turned towards his mini-me, who couldn't even believe his luck.

"Oi, Sora! Your training starts tomorrow"