#my ass needs to stop posting shit in the middle of the night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonberriess · 10 months

Text

⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”

TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”

WORD COUNT — 2.6 k

“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.

“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.

“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.

“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”

Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.

You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.

“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.

Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.

“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.

You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.

You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.

Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.

You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.

Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.

He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.

You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”

“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”

You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.

Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.

Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.

“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.

Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.

Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.

“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.

“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.

Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.

Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”

“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.

“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.

Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.

“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.

You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.

Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”

“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.

“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.

Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.

Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”

With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.

You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.

Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.

“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.

Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

4K notes · View notes

hyewka · 11 months

Note

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

#txt smut #soobin smut #sub!soobin #sub!idol #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

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answer2jeff · 6 months

Text

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader smut #oh my god he's so hot i cant #makeup sex trope #i need him biblically #lip gallagher x you #proud lip gallagher apologist #my man my man my man #hope y'all enjoy #idk what this is tbh

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raidenssblog · 6 months

Text

Wanna see some ass shakin'?

Pairing: giyuu X male reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: praise, dirty talk, slight degradation, mention of belly bulge, dumb fucking, non con words (stop, no, slowdown), one fem term for giyuu

Summary: fucking giyuu dumb (can you tell I like sub giyuu???"

A/n: found this little thing in my drafts and incompletely forgot about it. It's shit but I need to post something:(

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It's the middle of the night, giyuu had the day off so you decided he deserved a little reward for his hard work slaying demons.

Moans and the sound of skin slapping filled your shared room. Your hands kneaded the fat of his hips before sending a harsh slap on his ass followed by a scream. "Yeah? You like that huh?" You questioned slapping him again.

"MHM! Y-yeah i-FU-ckkk" his hands were gripping the sheets and drool was running down his lip. Your thrusts somehow quickened and hardened.

"s-slow down" leaning forward with a whine, giyuu reached back trying to slow your thrust to no avail.

"you were practically begging me a few hours ago, rubbing up against me and whining like the little girl you are" you gripped his hand and locked them behind him before starting your thrusts up again.

Moans and broken sobs could only be heard from the man underneath you. If you could see his face it would probably be red and flustered, drool on the corner of his mouth and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He was out of his mind just because of your dick.

You liked when it was like this, being able to fuck him so hard he forgets everything but your name.

Everytime you two would sleep together you would ruin the poor boy but god, did he love it and so did you.

Racking your eyes down his back, your eyes fix on his ass, more specifically the way it would bounce when your hips would meet. Thrusting a little bit hard a yelp came from giyuu, but you didn't care.

Reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his flush to your chest, thrusting again you eyed his stomach.

"aww look baby, you dicks that deep in you it's bulging out! You are tiny compared to me" giyuu looked down before throwing his head back with a scream. You, yet again, sped up your thrusts.

"no l-look down now. Look at how good, fuckk, good I fuck you. How deep I am inside you" you said while forcing him to look the his stomach and the bulge your cock was creating.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, fighting around you, you knew he was close. "You close baby, wanna cum all over yourself huh? Fuck I'm close too" you hand jerked his hair so he could face you before smashing your lips against his, spit dripped down your chins, teeth clashing and your tongue down his throat.

"y-yeah ngh, fuck Im so close" another moan fell from his lips, he had fallen from grace yet he was still jaw dropping while he was moaning and squeezing around your cock.

"yeah want me to fill you up nice and full, breed you hard huh? Bet you'd want that, have my cum dripping out of you" the only answer you got from him was a 'mhm'

Your breathing staggered, abs tightening and hand gripping him even harder. One hand heft his hip and jerked him off quickly, the other fondled with his nipple.

"FUCk I'm gonna f-uckin cum, oh my god! Please please can I cum please" he begged, his entire body shaking and eyes rolling back again.

"yeah f-fuck cum, make a mess for me like the good slut you are hmm" you said jerking him off even faster.

"NGH. THAN-K YOU FUCKKK!" Ropes of white cum landed on your hands and the bed sheets.

That was more than enough for you to reach your orgasm, your breath stopped, thrusting deeper in the man you can with a low groan while giyuu whimpered at the warm feeling.

Catching your breaths you kissed his neck and his jaw before his lips. "Did so well for me, all the time, good boy"

"mhm, thank you" he reached for your jaw to kiss you again.

"anytime pretty thing"

#demon slayer #reader insert #male reader #kny x male reader #kny fanfic #sub giyuu #giyuu x male reader smut #dom male reader #kny giyuu

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bingwriterxo · 11 months

Text

the shakespeare exhibit - part 6

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which you invite tara over for dinner

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors DNI), fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 3600+

author's note: one of the longest pieces i've ever posted...

previous part | next part

Chad (4:10pm): wtm tn bois

Mindy (4:11pm): movie night @ t's place?

Anika (4:11pm): down

Ethan (4:12pm): sounds good! i'll bring snacks! :D

Tara (4:12pm): yea just invite urselves over why dont u

Tara looked up from her phone, glaring at Mindy from across the living room. "Who says I'm free tonight?"

Mindy scoffed. "Please. We all know Y/N has been visiting her parents this weekend because you won't stop whining about how much you miss her, and who else do you hang out with?"

"I do not whine!" Right? Tara thought. Right. "And I have other friends!"

"Oh yeah?" Mindy raised an eyebrow. "Who? Name them right now."

"Uh..." Tara furrowed her eyebrows. Does Sam count? "Oh! Quinn, obviously."

"She doesn't count! She's friends with all of us!" Mindy chuckled, shaking her head. "Face it, T--you've got us and you've got Y/N, and with Y/N gone, we all know you're not doing jack shit tonight."

Tara huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I fucking hate you."

"Don't hate the player," Mindy said, holding her hands up in surrender. "Hate the game."

"Oh, I'll hate the player, because the player's a pain in my ass--" The rapid vibrating of her phone cut her off and she glanced down, eyes widening at your contact name showing on her screen. She scrambled to pick it up, nearly declining the call as she held it to her ear. "Hey, baby!"

Mindy pretended to gag herself with her finger at Tara's words, and the brunette flipped her off.

"Hi, Tar," you said, and Tara could hear your smile. "What're you up to?"

"Just hanging out with the biggest pain in my ass."

You giggled. Tara grinned at the sound. "Say 'hi' to Mindy for me, then."

"Definitely won't do that."

There was some shuffling before you asked, "What're you doing tonight?"

Tara hummed. "Tonight? Oh, nothing important." She stuck her tongue out at Mindy, who gave her middle fingers with both of her hands. "Why?"

"I'm back early from my parents' house. Nate and Eddie were way too much for me to handle this weekend." You chuckled. "Nate's got the lead role in the school play, and you'll never guess what they're doing."

"Some sort of Shakespeare?" she asked, knowing of your younger brother's own love for the playwright.

"Yup! They're making it PG-rated, obviously, but he's running around only talking in Early Modern English and I just couldn't take it anymore." God help me on the day that I meet this kid, Tara thought. "And then Eddie, well, he's going fucking insane from it, so he was off the walls, and--" You sighed. "That's not what I was calling for."

She laughed. "What's up, then?"

"Do you want to come over tonight? I can cook your favorite!" Tara was barely given the chance to respond when you added, "And I miss you."

This fucking girl. She blushed, turning her face so that Mindy couldn't see."I miss you, too, babe. And yeah, I'll come over tonight."

Mindy whipped her head toward her. "What about movie night?"

Tara waved her off, but you had overheard the other girl. "Oh, if you're busy tonight, then--"

"No!" Tara exclaimed. Stupid Mindy. Trying to ruin my plans. "No, it's fine. There will be other movie nights."

"We could just have dinner tomorrow night, baby," you said. "I don't want to pull you away from your friends."

She shook her head even though you couldn't see it. "They'll be okay without me for one night. When should I come?"

There was a pause. Tara guessed that you were looking at the time. "Is seven o'clock good? I just need to run and grab some things first, and shower, because I'm kind of greasy." There was a little shuffling. "I don't know what it is about those boys, but every time I come back from my parents' place, I'm always, like, gross."

Tara giggled. "Seven's perfect. I'll see you then."

"Okay, cool! Bye, Tar."

"Bye, babe." I love you, she thought, but she didn't dare say it. I can't. It's too soon.

Her phone clicked as you hung up, and she pulled it away from her ear, turning to Mindy. "I won't be here tonight."

Mindy stared at her like she was stupid. "Yeah. I got that. Can we still use your apartment for movie night, though? I don't even want to try fitting everyone on my bed again."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Sure. I think Sam's staying at Danny's tonight, so just don't wreck the place."

Mindy hummed. "Hey, have you guys said 'I love you' yet?"

Tara blushed, warmth rising from her collarbones to her ears. "No."

"Do you want to?"

So badly, Tara wanted to say. "What's with all the questions?" she asked instead.

Mindy shrugged. "I'm just wondering. I mean, you told her about what happened last year, right?" Tara nodded. "And she responded well, right?" Another nod. "Why haven't you said it yet?"

"Have you ever thought about the fact that I might not love her yet?" Lie. Lie. Lie!

Mindy scoffed. "Don't lie to me. Everyone sees how you act around her, and how you look at her, and we all hear how you talk about her, and--"

"Shut up."

"So, why haven't you said it?"

Tara sighed. "We've barely been dating a month, Minds." Though it's already felt like a lifetime.

"Okay, and...?" Mindy cocked her head. "Anika and I were dating for, like, two weeks when we said it." She stood from the armchair and moved onto the couch, laying Tara's feet over her lap. "Y/N already knows everything about you--or, at least, you know, the stuff that might scare someone away--and she's still here. Don't you think that means she probably loves you back?"

"You're not who I want to be having this conversation with," Tara grumbled.

"First of all, rude. Secondly, would you rather Chad? Or maybe Sam, or Quinn, or--"

Tara threw her arms out. "Okay! I get it. You're the most plausible one to talk to about this." She covered her face with her hands, groaning. "I just--I don't want to freak her out." She looked at Mindy. "I mean, she's dated people, but she's never really been in a serious relationship like this, and I don't want to rush her."

Mindy furrowed her eyebrows. "She got you for her first girlfriend? Poor sucker."

I hate her. I really do. "This is why I don't want to talk to you about this!"

"Sorry, sorry," Mindy rushed out, patting Tara's ankles. "I'll be nice. Do you think there's any other reason you might not be ready to tell her?"

"Like what?"

"Like...Amber?"

Tara clenched her jaw and shook her head. No, she thought. No, definitely not. "Mindy--"

"I'm just saying." Mindy shrugged. "Amber was your best friend, and she's the first girl you ever fell in love with. She may have been a psychopathic murderer, but that's not someone who's easy to get over. Could you...still love her?"

"No." Tara shut her eyes, hard. "No, I don't still love Amber." Her voice was shaking; she could feel the tears behind her eyelids just from talking about the girl. "I miss her, sometimes, and then I remember that she literally tried to kill me." Her eyes shot open and she gestured to Mindy. "She tried to kill you, too."

"I know, T, but--"

Tara shook her head. "There are no 'buts'. I don't love Amber anymore." I only love Y/N. Her heart fluttered at the mere thought of you.

Mindy narrowed her eyes. "So, it really is just the time?"

"Yeah," Tara said. "I'm gonna wait until I know she's ready."

"You're so whipped, dude." Mindy grinned.

"You're the worst."

* * *

"Hey, Carmine," Tara greeted as she walked up to your doorman. She had become friendly with the man over the past few weeks, since, more often than not, the two of you hung out at your place rather than hers.

"Miss Carpenter," he said, nodding. "Miss Y/L/N ran through here about an hour ago looking a bit...disheveled."

Tara chuckled. "Yeah, well, you know our girl."

He hummed and gestured toward the door. "After you."

"I'll see you on my way out," she said, lamely saluting him. Why the fuck did I just do that? she thought. However, he quelled her anxieties quickly as he saluted back to her before turning away, his attention focused on some random man walking up to the door. Okay, Carmine. You're officially cool.

Tara made her way into the building and up to your apartment, knocking on your front door when she finally arrived. She patted down her hair and straightened out her clothes, making sure she looked perfectly presentable, and beamed up at you when the door opened.

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she looked at you. You were wearing a sheer, white button down, your black bralette visible beneath it, and your pants were...well, they hugged you nicely. Girlfriend looks hot. Might explode. "I didn't realize we were dressing nice," she said, gulping.

You glanced down at yourself with a blush before looking back at her with a shy smile. "Just thought it might be fun," you mumbled.

She nodded. "You look..." Pretty. Say pretty. "Hot." Damn it, Tara. You're too gay for this bullshit.

"Thanks." You opened the door wider. Tara stepped inside, giving you a quick kiss. "You're not too bad yourself," you said, grinning.

Tara, for as much as she wanted to say she knew you, had not been expecting what you had set up inside your apartment. The lights were dimmed, there were rose petals on the floor, and the table was set with a candelabra in the middle (which she knew you had never used before because it was centuries old).

She turned to look at you. "I--You--What?"

"I originally wanted to take you out to a nice restaurant tonight, but I couldn't get a reservation anywhere." You shrugged and gestured to the room. "So, I had to make do."

"It's not an important date, is it?" No, not our one month. It's November, so it's not Valentine's day.

You shook your head. "No. I just wanted to do something a little more special tonight." You bit your lip. "Is it okay? I mean, I could turn on the lights and vacuum up the petals, and we could just order pizza or something if you wan--"

"It's perfect." She's perfect, Tara thought. Absolutely perfect in every way, and I love her.

You sighed with relief. "Oh, good, because the rose petals were kind of expensive." You placed your hand on the small of her back and led her to the table, pulling out her seat for her. "Sit. I'll get the food."

Is this real life? Did she actually set up a romantic dinner and is now bringing me food? This is--I'm dreaming, aren't I? Tara blinked as though to wake herself up, but she was still in your kitchen when she opened her eyes. Nope, not a dream. How did I get someone so perfect?

You returned with two plates of food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. You placed a plate down in front of Tara and one in front of your own seat before waving the bottle at her.

"My parents sent me two bottles of that '61 Merlot I gave Sam, so I thought we could have it tonight," you said, pouring her a glass. You stopped suddenly, freezing. "Wait, do you like wine? I have, uh, water, too, if that's better?"

Tara chuckled. "Wine's fine. Thank you, baby."You nodded and continued to pour before giving yourself a glass as well. You set the wine down next to the candelabra and then sat, smiling at her.

"I hope you like it," you said, pointing at the food. "I'm not the best cook. We grew up with private chefs, so neither of my parents taught me to cook, either, but I tried my best, and--"

Tara ate a mouthful of the pasta you had set in front of her, and her taste buds exploded. Her eyes widened as she moaned at the taste, and you gulped, watching her. "This is amazing!" she said, her voice somewhat muffled from the food. "Holy shit, Y/N." She can cook! Thank god, 'cause I'm horrible at it.

"Really? Oh, perfect. I was nervous I'd actually have to end up just ordering us a pizza," you said, starting to eat.

Tara hummed and reached for her glass. "You need to teach me how you did this one day."

You nodded. "Sure! Any time. It was pretty easy, actually."

She took a sip of the wine, smiling at the taste of it. Jesus, I can tell this was expensive. "This is also amazing. Thank your parents for me, would you?"

"Sure, Tar." You grinned. "They asked about you, actually."

What. "Oh?" No fucking way.

"They wanted to know if you were also into literature like I am, to which I said no, of course, and I think my mom was actually a bit happy to hear it." You chuckled. "The literature comes from my dad's side, mainly. She's...not stoked about it."

"I think your mom and I are going to get along great, then," Tara giggled.

"They wanted to know when they could meet you, actually," you said, glancing up at her sheepishly. Her eyes widened. "I know we haven't been dating long, but they want to meet the woman that has their daughter 'so captivated', as my dad put it."

"Captivated, huh? I'm sure they meant they want to meet whoever turned their daughter into such a simp," she teased.

You glanced down, blushing. "We're not starting this tonight."

"If you would just admit you're a simp for me, then I'd never bring it up again." Her voice was soft as she stared at you. She looks so pretty in the candlelight.

"I'll never admit that, since it's just not true," you said, looking up. "But I will admit that...I'm in love with you."

A shiver ran through Tara at your words, butterflies stirring in her stomach. She loves me, she thought. She loves me back. "I--"

"You don't have to say it back," you started. "I know it's kind of soon, but I just...I wanted to say it." You inhaled deeply. "I love you, Tara."

Say it, you idiot. Say it. "Y/N," she breathed out. She stood and crossed the length of the table, pulling your seat out from beneath it so that she could stand in front of you. She grinned down at you. "I love you, too."

Tara leaned down and kissed you with as much passion as she could. She tried to pour every ounce of what she felt for you into the kiss, and she smiled against your lips when you stood up, never breaking contact once. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into you.

"You love me," you said when you pulled back just enough to speak, your breath brushing over her lips.

"I do." I really do. More than you know. Her hands found the back of your neck as she leaned up to kiss you again, her tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your hold on her tightened. She never wanted you to let go.

You whispered, "Is this...I mean, should we--"

"Bedroom?" Tara asked. You nodded slowly. "Yes, please."

You giggled as you took Tara's hand, leading her to your bedroom. There was nothing fancy happening there--no rose petals or candles or dimmed lights--but she didn't care. She liked knowing that you hadn't planned to sleep with her, that you were doing all of this simply because you loved her.

She shut the door behind her as you sat on your bed, waiting patiently. Perfect. Painstakingly perfect. She climbed onto your lap, straddling your legs, and kissed you again. This time, it was less slow and calculated; it was filled with more want, with more lust.

You nipped at her bottom lip, and she whimpered, her hips rising a little and brushing against you. You grinned, hands slipping beneath her shirt and holding her by the waist, your thumbs rubbing over her bare skin.

She shivered, pulling away. "You're--This all okay, right?" she asked. You nodded, and she leaned in to kiss you again before pausing, her eyes catching on something across the room. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, turning around to see what she was looking at. "Sorry. I need to..."

Tara stood and crossed the room, turning the statue bust of Shakespeare around so that he was facing the corner. Much better, she thought. I don't need Mr. Shakespeare watching me have sex.

"Oh," you said, laughing. "I didn't realize he'd bother you."

She frowned as she walked back to you, settling in your lap again, your hands retaking the position they had. "I didn't want him watching."

"I'm sure Shakespeare has seen worse things."

"Oh, shush. You're making me feel silly now."

You leaned up and kissed her. "It's a little silly."

"Whatever." She pressed her lips against yours again, silencing your teasing. Her tongue ran over your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing her the entry she so desperately desired.

You kissed for a moment more before she was dipping down, her lips dancing across your jawline, up to the little spot below your ear, and then down your neck. Her mouth was hot and warm against your skin, leaving you whining beneath her. I can do better than whines, she thought as she nipped at your pulse point. You moaned, your hand flying to her scalp when she sucked against the skin, sure to leave a pretty mark.

Her hands busied themselves with the buttons of your shirt, fingers fumbling in her haste. Stupid buttons. I hate buttons. Why do buttons even exist-- Your shirt fell open and she pulled back, gulping at the sight of you.

You were breathing heavily, your hair was mussed, the hickey on your neck was a magnificent red, and you were staring at her with half-lidded eyes.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," Tara mumbled. You turned pink at her words, looking away shyly. She cupped your jaw and softly pushed your head back to look at her. "Really, Y/N. You are."

"Thank you, baby," you said.

How can she be so cute yet so hot at the same time? Tara took your shirt off, leaving you in just your bralette, and pushed at your chest lightly. You laid back, your head on your pillows as you looked up at her, watching, waiting.

She leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin of your chest, and giggled when she felt your hips buck up. "Impatient," she muttered.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled above her.

She climbed off you, fingers working at the button of your pants. "Next time we do this, can you just wear a t-shirt and sweats? It'll make things a lot easier for me," she joked.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Next time?"

Tara huffed, the button finally coming undone, and she helped you out of your pants, pulling your underwear down with them. "Yes. Next time." She threw your pants somewhere behind her and hovered over you. "Unless you find me to be...unsatisfactory," she whispered, voice low.

You gulped. "M'sure that won't be the case."

She kissed you again before moving downward, planting kisses along your skin and creating marks on the plane of your stomach, until she settled between your legs. "You're dripping," she breathed out, and you whimpered at the air against you.

"Please, Tar," you whined, hips bucking ever so slightly. "Need you, baby."

She nodded, dipping down and licking a stripe through your folds, groaning at your taste. You moaned, the sound raw as it left your mouth, and Tara grinned. Beautiful, she thought as her tongue continued to explore you. Sounds so pretty.

She wrapped her lips around your clit, and she swore that the noise you made was the closest to heaven she'd ever get. She sucked lightly, then a little harder when your hand gripped her hair, pushing her against you.

"Fuck, Tar," you groaned. "Feels so good, baby."

She brought her hand up, slipped a finger into you, and hummed at the feel of your walls tight around her. Her tongue kept circling your clit, lips sucking at it, as she thrusted into you gently.

It didn't take long until you were writhing beneath her, the only sounds coming out of your mouth being broken moans and whines of her name.

"M'gonna cum," you whimpered.

Fuck yeah. She sucked harder, and you fell over the edge, crying out her name as your walls squeezed her. Your back arched, Tara following the curve with her eyes, before you lamely pushed at her shoulders. She pulled away and climbed up your body, grinning at the sight of your flushed face and closed eyes before kissing you softly.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Embarrassingly quick," you said, opening your eyes to look at her.

She giggled. "I'm good at what I do."

You hummed, hands finding her waist and flipping the two of you over. "Now let me show you that I'm good at what I do."

It was a whirlwind of color as you undressed her, and Tara barely got a word out before your lips were around her nipple, sucking at the hardened bud. She gasped, your mouth wet on her, and felt your fingers at her entrance.

"You thought I was dripping?" you teased.

"Shut up--" She moaned as you slipped a finger into her. Fuck, she thought. Long fingers.

You kissed her, lips pushed against her hard, before dipping down to her neck, sucking and kissing and licking while your finger worked at her, your thumb circling her clit.

Her mind was hazy and focused only on the way your finger curled against her just right. You slipped another one in, and she swore she saw stars.

Jesus, already? she thought briefly at the feeling of a pleasant knot tightening in her stomach. You mumbled something against her neck, but she wasn't paying any attention.

It only took one, two, three more thrusts before she was unraveling beneath you, a shuddering breath pushing past her lips as she came. You worked her through her orgasm, slipping out when she came down, and she pulled you into her, kissing you gently.

"I love you," you whispered.

She grinned. "I love you, too."

A moment passed before you asked, "Do you think I could turn my Shakespeare back around now?"

She's dead serious, isn't she? Tara rolled her eyes lightly and kissed you between your eyebrows. "Let me put my clothes back on."

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #scream 5 #scream 6 #museum tara

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angelbarelywrites · 2 months

Text

♡ scenarios | dating negan

♡ fandoms; The Walking Dead

♡ characters; Negan Smith

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; in case anyone forgot i’m technically not a dedicated slasher blog

i put this in sections so i didn’t have to make more than one post lol . also these take place while he’s still the ruler of the saviors. i’ve been obsessed since his first episode oh my god that’s eight years of hyperfixation so that’s usually where my brain goes plot- wise

i’m thinking Billy Butcher is up next? lmk who else we wanna see, Garcia Flynn from Timeless is probably too niche? but i love him so so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/PDA

> negan is an affectionate person

> with his wives it’s just for show- they’re hot, and he wants all his followers jealous of his lifestyle

> but with you, it’s different

> his wives don’t like him, per-se. he’s convenient to be married to and easy on the eyes, but they’re cold to him

> and he knows why, he doesn’t really give a shit. especially now that he has you.

> you may not be his spouse- you’re sure as fuck not letting him call you that without a ring- but he’s even more physical with you

> standing by him? hand on your back. sitting? you’re on his lap. look cold? he gives you his jacket and keeps you tucked under his arm

> “i just like takin’ care of you darlin’”

> and he loves kissing you in front of others- from little pecks to long, lingering kisses that makes other people look away

> he seems possessive, and he doesn’t mind people pointing it out

> it’s not that he doesn’t trust you- it’s never that

> he trusts most of his men too…maybe not simon. because simon loves staring at your ass

> but he’s proud. he’s proud you’re his, and he’s yours, and that he gets to show you off

> and like hell he ever lets anyone forget it

> alone he acts like keeping his hands off you is impossible

> he smacks your ass any time you lean over, pulls you into big bear hugs from behind and randomly pick you up

> he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his feelings for you, and physically is the easiest way for him to show it

> he’s very sexual, big shocker

> but his favorite kisses are sleepy kisses

> you wait late into the night when he’s due home from terrorizing his territories

> some part of you is afraid one day he won’t come home- so you always wait

> you’ll be exhausted, rubbing your eyes and yawning and usually wrapped up in a blanket

> but no matter how long he takes directing his men and double checking inventory and dealing with the dead

> “hey there, baby doll”

> you always run straight into his arms and bury your face in his chest. he’ll laugh and pick you up, kissing you gently before he carries you to bed

> most times he falls asleep on top of the covers with you, eager for the morning when he can make it up to you for being gone so long

II. Sharing a bed

> negan isn’t used to sharing a bed anymore

> the wives have their own rooms just down the hall, and so do you

> no reason for him not to give you at least a little space

> and having a room is the height of luxury in the sanctuary anyways. it’s a perk of dating the boss

> but you don’t know how to tell him you do want to share a bed, even though you’re barely apart when you’re awake

> so you just…don’t. you assume it’s a boundary he wants to keep and don’t mention it

> until the night terrors start up again

> you’ve seen a lot of people die a lot of different ways. most of them people you cared a lot about

> the memories always seem to come back in your dreams no matter how far back you push them

> when you’re woken up by one in the middle of a harsh storm, it’s just a bit too much

> you just can’t stop crying, and it’s loud and you need held. you need him.

> you creep as quietly as you can down the hall, and you hesitate at the door until the thunder crashes again

> when you stumble in he sits up fast with a knife in his fist

> then he gives a slightly annoyed sigh in recognition, relaxing

> “the hell are you doing?”

> “i just- um-“

> you can tell he notices the wobble in your voice and opens his arms up without another smart remark

> “hey, hey, i’ve gotcha..”

> he doesn’t ask questions- you don’t cry for nothing. and he gets nightmares too

> falling asleep in his arms feels natural…so natural it becomes a habit

> and he sleeps better with you too, curled around you and holding you so tight you think he might be worried you’ll disappear

> it’s less than a week before you stop using your bed altogether

III. Let’s get kinky

> he’s happy in pretty much any dominant role, whatever you call him is good enough for him- daddy, sir, master, etc

> and he likes when you call him whatever it is in front of his men

> the only chance of getting your dick/strap in him is if he power bottoms. but 95 percent of the time? you’re receiving and it’s big

> he likes being risky. he’ll take you out to visit settlements just to have an excuse to stop and fuck you in the car

> or even in a house there, just a room over from his men and gagging you with his fingers so you don’t get caught

> not that he’ll care if they catch you anyways

> he has a nice big office- half of the reason he uses it is so he can have you on his lap as a cockwarmer while he reads or looks over inventory numbers

> the other half is so you can suck his dick under the desk while he talks to simon or dwight

> (simon is a raging pervert so he definitely knows, too)

> he loves fucking your face, watching you get all teary eyed and drooling all over yourself from taking his massive cock

> “oh look at the fuckin’ mess you’re making!”

> he’s generous though- he loves reciprocating oral

> and he loves overstimulating you too- whether that’s by edging you for hours or just making you cum again and again and again

> he loves taking you from behind, pushing your face into the mattress and gripping your hips so hard they bruise

> but he also loves when you ride him slow, gasping quietly as he watches you fall apart completely for him

#negan x g/n reader #negan x y/n #twd negan #negan smith #negan x you #negan x reader #the walking dead #twd dead city #cw sex #cw kink

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

Note

oh my gosh i luv ur stan hatefucking post 😭😭 i felt butterflies ITS SO GOOD

no bc hear me out i feel like cartman would totally do that... IMAGINE HE WOULD TOTALLY SNEAK IN CAUSE THE READERS PARENT HATE HIM

i love the idea u made and im asking if you could do it but with eric? :D if ya want to of coursee!!

- 🏩 anon :3

hi cutie!! thank you sm im really happy you enjoyed it :] !!!

cartman 10,000% would have to sneak in because he was such an asshole and your parents hate him.

like at midnight, here's eric cartman throwing rocks at your window. you'd open it and he'd accidentally hit you with a rock before laughing hysterically and climbing up.

"you're gonna wake up my dad, he'd kill you if he found you here." you roll your eyes and rub where the rock had hit you.

"your fault you talk so much shit on me to them"

"it's actually your fault you're such an asshole.." you mutter.

"'ey! what'd you say?" eric shouts and you smack his shoulder softly, shushing him loudly. "shut up!" you whisper shout. "why're you here?"

eric laughs, "i wouldn't be here for any reason other than to get my dick wet."

scoffing and rolling your eyes you lay down on your stomach, loudly sighing before he smacks your ass "ow, asshole!" you wince and he laughs.

too lazy and too tired to get up, you lie there and let eric strip you of your clothing. he kisses your back and whispers degrading comments at you.

eric brings his hand to your hips, pulling them up to leave you chest down and ass up in the air where he'd bring his hands to your wet cunt, teasing it before sliding his middle and ring fingers in, scissoring his way inside you. this pulls sweet moans from your mouth.

"shshsh, quiet slut." eric whispers out to you in a soft chuckle. but you couldn't help yourself. "such a loud little bitch, huh? yeah? need me to cover your mouth, huh? yeah?" he taunts in a baby voice with little nods as he slides his fingers out of you.

soon that hand is brought to your face where he pulls your head up by your jaw and eric shoves the two fingers that were just in your cunt into your mouth, soon sliding his cock into you.

the moans you attempted to let out were muffled by eric's fingers as his cock moves in and out of you, accelerating to a faster pace each thrust.

his other hand smacks your ass not too hard so it doesn't wake your parents, if they hadn't already awaken by the loud screeching of the bed.

the both of you were bound to get caught, just bound. and if you were, you feared not only cartman would be dead, but you would be too.

you'd known just how much your parents hated cartman, rightfully so. he was a jerk who'd bullied you your entire life ever since you were five years old.

"you're so stupid!" he'd laugh every time you'd get a question in class wrong. "slut!" he'd yell every time he'd seen you with a boyfriend. no matter what you did, eric was yelling or laughing at you for it.

you told your parents about everything he'd done, they also saw it. they hated him, so much.

it was fairly recently when you'd added a sexual aspect to your hateful relationship. ever since its gotten better with cartman, but not with your parents..

they still hated him, and that likely wouldn't stop.

"fu-ck–!" cartman groans quietly. "gonna cum.. cum with me precious."

when he said that you felt yourself growing closer to the edge. "cum with me, cum with me," he continued to repeat himself over and over again, every time he said it he thrusted harder.

and there that knot came undone and you came, feeling that warm liquid fill you up from cartman.

he'd lay beside you on his back, breathe heavily and softly chuckling. "can i stay the night, it's dark out."

"i guess so." you smile as he wraps his arms around you. "just be gone by morning."

#vanillaan #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman smut #eric cartman south park #south park smut #south park x reader #south park

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avastrasposts · 9 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 30

We left Frankie in a pretty bad state at the end of the last chapter and now we need to get through that as his girl and the guys begin to really worry about where his actions are leading him. And Joel steps in of course, but perhaps not in the best way.

I just want to add too, that this chapter included a conversation that has been a long time coming but it was very hard to write since neither man wants to talk about it and I can just hope I did them both justice.

I just want to add too, since some people are nervous about it; I LOVE hearing your thoughts and comments on what I write, even if the chapter is months and months old! It's my favourite thing about posting here and on Ao3, hearing your thoughts as you read through the fic, so please, share with me!

Series Master List

Chapter 31 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 7.7k

You wake with a start, your body jerking you awake with panicked breaths. The bedroom is light, the window faces south and a weak sun is glinting through the closed curtain which means you slept far longer than usual, the sun rises late in the Massachusetts winter months. You rush to push back the comforter and hurry out into the living room. The blanket is pushed back on the couch and Frankie is not there, and not in the kitchen either. As you turn to the bathroom you see what’s missing, his boots, his jacket and backpack.

“Fuck!” you groan loudly and run back to the bedroom, grabbing your clothes from last night and rushing to put them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You feel an urgent need to get to Frankie, to talk to him. It’s not like him to leave, certainly not in the middle of an argument, and never, ever, has he left in the morning without saying anything to you. Something is not right, it feels like the two of you have crossed a line that you need to get you both back behind.

You tie your boots and shrug your winter coat on, your first stop is Pope’s place. You hammer on his door and he throws it open, his face falling when he sees your expression.

“Frankie came home drunk last night and now he’s left again, I don’t know where he is!” you blurt out as Pope lets you into his apartment.

“Slow down, hermana,” he says, grabbing hold of your shoulders, steadying you, “From the beginning.”

“Frankie and I got into an argument about what he did when he was on that run with Will, he couldn’t understand why I thought he was too violent,” you say, trying to calm yourself, but your hands are shaking and Pope grabs them, holding them together between his own. “Then Joel came by, right in the middle of it, something about planning a new run, and Frankie just left with him, saying he needed to think. And then he came back late last night , really drunk and passed out on the couch, and now he’s gone! He never leaves without saying goodbye and I don’t know where he is!” Your voice breaks on the last word and Pope lets go of your hands, bending down to grab his boots.

“We’ll go find him, we’ll go to Benny’s first, Tommy said something yesterday about meeting there.” He looks up at you while he laces his boots, “Don’t worry, hermana, it’s early still, he can’t have gone that far.”

…

“Tell me again what this FEDRA guy told you about the raiders?” Benny asks Joel as they duck under a broken piece of the highway and head into an old sewage tunnel.

“A small FEDRA patrol saw a bunch of them down in Dorchester, if we take them out, we get to keep the supplies,” Joel replies, stepping around a dead rat.

“And you trust this guy?”

“Yeah, he owes me a favor, I saved his ass a couple of times. And he’s given me tips before, they’ve always been solid, nothing this big though.”

“Alright, as long as you think it’s a legit tip,” Benny nods and falls back a bit, Frankie’s right behind him, Tommy taking up the rear.

“You ok, Fish? You look a bit pale,” Benny says, his voice lower for the benefit of his friend.

“Yeah, just slept like shit, and we had a fucking early wake up call,” Frankie grumbles, pulling the bill of his cap down lower over his eyes.

“Tell me about it,” Benny sighs, “Eve just woke up to say goodbye, then she went right back to sleep. Wish I could’ve stayed in bed with her.”

“Mmhm, same,” Frankie mutters, pausing as they come to the end of the tunnel.

“Ok, on your toes now, we've got to go out in the open here,” Joel says, waving the other three men forwards.

…

The trek down to Dorchester is smooth, and it doesn’t take long for them to find the raiders' small camp. They’ve set up on the top floor of an office building and Benny and Frankie silently take out the two guards at the bottom of the stairs. It gets messy when they reach the top and they have to open fire but Joel tosses in a homemade smoke bomb and after that they can just pick off the raiders as they come stumbling out.

They pick through the raider’s supplies and fill their packs, it’s a pretty good haul and Benny starts searching for any food they might’ve hidden, coming across a door that’s been blocked off with a filing cabinet.

“Hey, Catfish! Give me a hand with this!” he calls to Frankie, “Cover me in case they’ve locked a fucking infected in here or something.”

Frankie stands a few feet from the door with his rifle raised as Benny puts his shoulder to the filing cabinet and pushes it out of the way. The door swings open and Benny jumps out of the way.

“Oh fuck, shit! Man, that’s foul!”

The dead boy of a young woman falls out across the doorway, her body must’ve been propped against the door, and judging by the stench, she’s been dead a while. The body of another young woman is curled up on a dirty mattress, she’s less far gone, her emaciated features still clear. Both women are naked and Benny swallows hard and glances back at Frankie as they both realize why the women were locked up.

“We should’ve killed those fucking raiders slower,” Frankie growls, turning away from the room and Benny follows him.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and back to the QZ”.

Back down at street level again Joel takes the lead and moves down the way they came, covering a couple of blocks before Benny suddenly signals for everyone to halt.

“Heads up, I hear a car,” he calls in a low voice to the others.

“More raiders,” Joel says, “C’mon, we’ll ambush them, this is the only cleared street.” He looks around the block they’re on and points to cars that have been pushed aside on either side of the street. “Frankie, Benny, hide behind either car, cover me. Tommy, get behind me. I’ll make them stop, usual way should work, if not, just shoot ‘em.”

“Joel, you sure?” Benny interrupts, “How do we know they’re raiders? We should hang back and observe, see if they go for the base we cleared.”

“No, then we just have to clear them out again and this time they’ll be on their guard,” Joel scowls, “Get in position!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Benny shakes his head, looking over at Frankie who’s already moved into cover, “Fish? You ok with this?”

“Joel’s right, it’s probably the same group of raiders, we need to take them out.”

“Get in position, Benjamin, or stay the fuck out of our way, they’re almost here,” Joel points to the other car, staring at Benny. The younger man takes a deep breath, glancing over at Frankie again who motions with his head to get behind the car.

“Fuck!” Benny growls and grips his rifle, ducking behind cover with an angry scowl.

Joel quickly gets into position as the rumbling engine comes closer, keeping an eye out for the car. As it gets closer Benny sees it, it’s a small beat up sedan with several bullet holes in the sides. He glances over at Frankie and gives him a hand signal, indicating three people inside. Frankie nods and passes on the message to Tommy just as the car drives down the block they’re on. Ahead of him, Benny suddenly hears Joel give up a loud shout, stumbling out of the alley into the path of the car, his hand clutching his side, the other raised to the driver.

The others watch, guns ready and hidden out of sight, as the car barrells towards Joel, who’s staggering across the road. Suddenly the driver slams the brakes and the car skids to a halt in front of Joel. From his hiding place Benny sees the driver open the door and step up on the instep, aiming a gun at Joel.

“Hey, I-I need help, p-please,” Joel stutters, holding up the hand that’s not holding his side, where he’s conveniently hidden his handgun.

“What’s wrong with you?” the driver calls as Joel stumbles closer, the man is still half hidden behind the door and Joel’s trying to get around to his side so he half falls to the side, taking several stuttering steps sideways.

“You infected?” the driver says, following Joel with his gun, “Can’t help you then I’m afraid.”

“R-raiders,” Joel coughs, “ran into a whole bunch.”

Benny looks over at Frankie, he’s got a clear shot at the driver and he’s aiming at him. Benny signals at him to hold his fire, these guys don’t sound like raiders, but Frankie’s shaking his head, squeezing his rifle as the man continues to keep his gun on Joel.

“Be careful, Dan!” a man in the car suddenly calls and Joel straightens up, pulling his gun, aiming at the man. A shot rings out and the driver slumps forward, a clean shot though his head.

“God dammit, Frankie!” Benny yells, lifting his own rifle as the man in the car dives for the fallen man’s gun. Joel fires on him but misses and the man takes off running. On his right Ben hears Tommy open fire on the third person in the car as Joel yells.

“Shoot his leg, Frankie, take him down alive!” The man is running as fast as he can down the block but two shots ring out and he yells, tumbling to the ground as blood bursts from his thigh.

“Secure him, Benny,” Frankie yells and advances on the car, rifle raised. Benny keeps his gun on the fallen man and moves up to him, he’s splayed on his back, gripping his thigh, whimpering.

“Oh fuck, please, please don’t kill me!” he says, trying to crawl backwards away from Benny.

“Just stay still, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you give me a reason,” Benny says, keeping his distance as he glances back at the car. Frankie’s jogging towards him and behind him, Joel steps into the car and a woman screams.

“No, no, don’t hurt her! She’s my sister!” the man on the ground shouts and Benny turns his head back to him as Frankie joins him.

“What’s going on, Fish?” he says in a voice low enough for the man not to hear.

“The third passenger is a woman, Joel’s questioning her about who they are and where they’re going.”

“Fish! These guys are obviously not raiders, what the fuck are we doing?” Benny glances back at the car as another high pitched scream comes from the woman and the man on the ground shouts.

“Get off her you fucking prick! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Frankie raises his rifle and aims at the man, “Easy there, he’s just questioning her.”

“What the fuck, Frankie, this is not how we treat civilians!”

“What fucking civilians? We can’t trust anyone, Benny, you saw what the raiders did to those two women!” Frankie growls.

“Yeah, but these guys are barely armed!” Benny nudges the dropped gun on the ground with his boot, badly maintained and rusty.

“And how the fuck were we supposed to know that?” Frankie asks, his rifle still trained on the bleeding man who’s whimpering, clutching his leg and looking towards the car.

“Maybe we don’t attack just anyone who drives past!” Benny hisses at Frankie, his eyebrows drawn tight with anger and frustration. “This is so fucked up, Fish!”

“Is he still alive?” Joel barks as he walks over, leaving Tommy to watch over the woman in the car.

“Yeah, but he’s bleeding, we need to get a tourniquet on that leg soon,” Benny replies, “Joel, what the fuck are we doing here? These guys are not raiders.”

Joel doesn’t reply, instead he walks up to the man on the ground and kneels down, Frankie’s gun is still trained on him, but Benny has let his drop, pointing it at the ground instead.

“You sister is it?” he asks of the man, putting his hand over the gunshot wound on the thigh.

The man nods, looking petrified under Joel’s hard stare.He yelps loudly when Joel’s hand squeezes the injured area, digging his fingers in.

“Your sister told me where you came from, and where you’re going. You’d better tell me the same thing she did, or I’m telling my guy over there to shoot her knee off, you understand?” Joel’s voice is hard and low, slowly squeezing the man’s leg tighter.

“Worcester!” the younger man blurts out, “We came from Worcester, and we’re heading for the Boston QZ but we got attacked and got lost. Please don’t hurt her, she’s my only family!”

“Have you got any supplies apart from what’s in the car?”

“No, no, I s-swear, we’ve got n-nothing!” the man stutters, groaning under the pain of Joel’s hand digging into his injured leg, “Please, we’ve got nothing!”

“Good boy,” Joel growls, easing off the man's leg and standing up.

He comes back to Benny and Frankie, wiping his hand on his trouser leg, “They both say the same thing. I say we leave ‘em and take the car, we can trade for it or stash outside the wall, might come in handy sometime.”

“Fuck, Joel, we need to take them with us, we can’t leave them out here,” Benny says and looks to Frankie for support but he just gives a hesitant shrug.

“I don’t know Benny, we can’t trust them,” he says.

“What fucking choice do we have? Leave them injured out here with no guns?” Benny snarls back at him.

“They’re not our responsibility!” Joel snaps, “Let’s fucking- “

All three men freeze as the first tell tale sounds echo between the buildings, the snarling shrieks of dozens of infected reaching them.

“Runners! Runners!” Tommy yells from the car, “Come on, we need to fucking go!” He rushes to the driver’s side of the car, jumping in and the woman sees her chance, bolting from the car and running for the alley.

“Leave her, just leave her!” Joel yells as he grabs Frankie and starts running towards the car, “Just start the car, Tommy!”

“Benny, no! Leave him!” Frankie shouts as he sees Benny moving towards the injured man on the ground. “Fucking leave him!”

“Please, please…just kill me” the man begs, looking back over his shoulder and Benny follows his gaze.

“Fuck!” he gasps, frozen to the spot for a second before he raises his gun and fires, the man slumping onto the asphalt. Benny spins around and starts running after Frankie, the horde of infected barrelling down the street screeching loudly.

“Benny! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Frankie yells, “Get in the car!”

Tommy’s already got the car moving as Benny catches up, grabbing hold of Frankie’s arm and getting pulled into the back seat.

“Floor it, Tommy!” Joel shouts, looking back over his shoulder, out the back window.

…

Thank fuck Tommy’s a good driver, he speeds through the streets, leaving the horde far behind. He only slows down once they enter the area around the QZ and turns off onto a narrow street that Joel directs him to.

“Here, down there, park between those two cars and we’ll throw some trash on it.”

The four men quickly make the car look unusable and head towards the QZ, splitting up as they get inside, stepping out into a quiet alley a few blocks from the wall..

“Alright, good run, except for the fucking infected,” Joel says, clapping Frankie on the back, “I’ll see you guys at the bar in a couple of days.”

Frankie nods and Benny throw the brothers a two fingered salute as they leave.

“Hey Fish, wait up, we need to talk,” Benny says as Frankie turns to leave too.

“If you’re gonna yell at me for how we handled the people in the car, fucking save it, I already got an earful from Will after our last run,” Frankie says, his shoulders hunched and eyebrows pulled tight, “I don’t need another lecture on how we’re using army tactics on civilians.”

“Frankie, man, c’mon, you’ve got to admit, that was pretty fucking bad? We should’ve just observed them, not fucking attacked,” Benny rubs his hand over his face, “I mean, why the fuck did Joel even pull that stunt with forcing them to stop? And why did you open fire? I’ve never seen you jump the gun like that, Fish.”

“The guy in the car, I thought he was about to pull a gun on Joel, so I shot first.”

“And the interrogation technique? You taught him that?”

“So what? We do what we need to do to survive.”

Benny shakes his head, “That was not about survival, I don’t know what the fuck that was!”

“Just fucking leave it, Benny! Ok?” Frankie snaps, scowling at his friend, “I’ll see you later, I need to get something done.” He shoulders his backpack and heads off in the opposite direction of the apartment.

“Fish, c’mon!” Benny calls after him, but Frankie just gives a dismissive wave of his hand without turning his head as he rounds the corner.

“Fuck…” Benny mutters and stalks off towards the radio office, he needs to see you.

…

It feels like deja vu when you find Benny outside the building where Sean lives and has the radio office.

“I’ve got to talk to you about Frankie,” he says and you feel like your heart stops, you’d been trying to find Frankie all morning, until you had to go to the radio office. Pope promised he’d keep looking, checking back at the apartment during the afternoon.

“Did something happen to him? Pope and I have been looking for him all day!” you say, grabbing hold of Benny’s arm and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“He didn’t tell you we were going on a run with Joel and Tommy today?”

“Benny, is he ok?” You feel like shaking him but you limit yourself to grabbing his arm tighter and Benny nods.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine, he’s fine, he came back with me but he said he had to do something when we got back.” Benny takes in your anxious looking face as it slips into relief and returns your grip on his arm, putting his hand over yours. “He didn’t tell you and he hasn't come to see you yet? Is something going on with you guys?”

You sigh and feel yourself deflating, your shoulders sagging with relief that Frankie’s ok, but at the same time, that lead weight settles in your stomach as you worry about his behavior again.

“Walk me home, Benny, please,” you ask, “if you have time?” You feel like Benny’s friendly presence next to you is the only thing that will make your feet move down the street as you chew on your bottom lip.

“Sure, I’ll walk you, I need to get back to Eve but...but maybe that can wait, what’s going on?”

“Tell me what happened when you were with him today,” you say, taking his arm and leaving the front entrance.

Benny looks around the two of you as you start walking down the street, checking that there is no one near that can overhear first and then he tells you the whole thing.

“Fuck…” you sigh for what feels like the twentieth time as Benny ends by telling you that Frankie took off after they got back. “His PTSD has been getting worse and both Pope and Will brought it up in the past few days. That last run with Will, things went bad and Pope’s been noticing his behavior being off too.”

You’ve reached the door to your building and you stop, looking up at Benny’s frown. “Yesterday I tried telling him that I think he shouldn’t go on runs with Joel anymore. Joel triggers something in Frankie and…I don’t know…I feel like maybe they aren’t good for each other. They’ve both suffered an unimaginable loss, in the worst possible way, and when Frankie got help, Joel seems to have had to deal with it on his own and it’s made him…just…very dark, like he’s just ‘existing’ and doing what he needs to do to survive…”

“And he has no empathy for others,” Benny fills in, “he didn’t even stop to consider that the people in the car could be just people trying to get to the QZ, and he left them with no second thought when the infected came, it was all about eliminating a potential threat and then about saving himself and Tommy.” Benny swipes his cap off his head and drags his hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m not even sure he would bother to save Frankie and myself, if we hadn’t gotten to that car in time.”

“But Frankie doesn’t see it,” you say, “and when I asked him to not go on runs with Joel anymore because I think it makes his PTSD worse, we got in a huge fight,” you sigh deeply, dropping your eyes to your toes and you feel Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “He got really mad when I said I thought he was too violent with this guy, Frankie threatened to gouge his eye out. But Frankie said he only did what was needed to get the antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid.” You swipe your hand over your cheek as tears start to drip down, “Fuck, I don’t wanna cry again,” you say, anger seeping through your voice, “Fuck!”

You tilt your head back up and look at Benny’s worried eyes, “Come on, it’s you and Frankie, you’re everything to him, one fight doesn’t ruin it,” he says, rubbing your shoulder

“He walked out, Benny, right in the middle of the fight. He’s never done that before, he just took off with Joel. And then he came home really drunk and we started arguing again and he passed out on the couch, he said he thought I didn’t want him in my bed anymore. And then this morning he left again, without saying anything. He went outside the wall and didn’t even say goodbye.” Tears spill over properly now and you sniffle, trying to stem the flow, but the nerves of the day catches up with you. Benny starts rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort you.

“Let’s get you inside, Frankie might be home already, you two need to talk it out, c’mon,” Benny gently hooks his arm around your shoulder and guides you through the door and up the stairs. You fumble out your keys and unlock your front door, opening up to a still dark apartment.

“Alright, he’s not home yet, but he’ll be here soon, I’ll wait with you until he turns up,” Benny says and starts to lift off his still heavy backpack and you stop him.

“No, please, go home to Eve. I know she’s worried about you since you went outside, get back home. I’ll be fine, and Pope’s next door if I need anything.” You put your hands on his chest and try, and fail, to nudge the big man towards the door.

“You sure? I’ll wait for him, and slap some sense into him if needed, just say the word,” Benny replies, tilting his head down to catch your eyes properly.

“I’m sure, Benny, please go home,” you give him another pointless shove and he gives with a small smile.

“Ok, if you’re sure I’ll go, but give me a hug first,” he says and bends down, capturing you between his long arms. Benny’s signature bear hugs are all encompassing and he lifts you up, shaking you gently and making you giggle through your tears.

“Just remember, it’s you and Frankie, you’re the love of his life. All he does, he does for you, if he’s lost his way, all he needs is for you to bring him back home. To you.”

“Benny, when did you become so insightful?” you smile weakly as he puts you down on your feet.

“Not insightful, I’ve just watched you two over the past, what is it? Eleven years now? And with Eve, I get it, what you two have. I’d do anything for her, and I know that’s all Frankie ever wants to do for you.”

“Get back to her, Benny, before you make me cry again,” you say, giving his arm a final squeeze before he steps through the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll come by the radio tomorrow and check on you, ok?”

“Ok, Benny, stay safe, love you!”

“Love you too, sis!” he calls as he jogs down the stairs.

…

You try to keep busy while you wait for Frankie; preparing dinner, cleaning the apartment, you even pull out your gun and start disassembling it on the coffee table to get it cleaned. It’s dark before he comes home, you hear his footsteps in the hallway first and then the key. Even before he opens the door you know something’s wrong, he struggles with the key in the lock, fumbling with the handle and you stand up, leaving the pieces of the gun on the table.

“Frankie?” you ask as the door shuts behind him, “Are you ok?” You walk over to the front door, and he glances up at you before he drops his backpack by the door.

“Yeah, ‘s fine,” he mumbles, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. “Went out with Benny today.”

“I know, Benny stopped by the radio,” you say, your body freezing as he shuffles past, only briefly pausing to drop a peck on your cheek, perfunctory. He smells of whiskey, fresh whiskey, like he’s just been drinking.

You don’t even know where to start as you follow him into the kitchen, the argument last night, him leaving this morning without saying anything, his run with Joel today or the way he stumbles around the kitchen table towards the stove.

“Frankie…” you say again, making your voice soft, you feel like you’re talking to a child, or a wild animal, not your sweet Frankie who you know so well. When he doesn’t even react, let alone look over at you, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, reminding yourself that this is his PTSD, this is not your Frankie.

“Frankie, talk to me please,” you start again, coming up next to him at the counter, you put your hand on his arm.

“What did Benny tell you? That we went out again?” he says, still not looking at you, his tone clipped.

“Yes, he said you took out some raiders and then…” you pause, you don’t know how to phrase it but Frankie does it for you. He steps away from you, and leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.

“H-he told you we took out three people in a car, that I shot one of the guys when I shouldn’t have, right? That’s what he told you? T-that I’m out of control and violently torturing civilians?” His voice is harsh, there’s an edge to it you don’t recognise and he’s still not looking at you.

“He’s worried about you, Frankie, and I’m too,” you say, “you haven’t been yourself these past few months.” You try to find his eyes but he’s got the bill of his cap pulled low, eyes on the floor two feet in front and his fingers are twitching, nervously.

“I already told you, I do what I need to do, to stay safe,” he mutters, the edge still sharp in his voice, crossing his arms tight over his chest, crossing his legs too, closing himself off from you.

“Benny said they were civilians, just trying to get to the QZ- “ you start to say but Frankie suddenly flares up.

“We’d just taken out a gang of raiders! It could’ve been more of them! The guy was about to pull a fucking gun on Joel, so I took the shot!” He throws his arms out, meeting your eyes for the first time. “You can’t fucking trust anyone, it’s us or them and I do what I need to do to survive! They could’ve attacked and killed us instead, then what?”

“But you were never like that before, Frankie!” you can’t help but raise your voice in frustration. When he worked with Pope in Arlington, or when you traveled up to New York with Benny and Pope, he was never so calloused, so distrusting and rash. “You used to observe, calculate the risks, you never rushed into situations, but since you started working more with Joel…I don’t know Frankie, it’s like he rubs off on you.” You drop your hands to your sides, you suddenly realize you’ve mimicked Frankie and thrown them open but now you sigh, lower them and take a deep breath.

“Frankie…I know you’re capable of real violence,” you shake your head, sighing, “but you’re not a violent person, it’s like it’s getting away from you when you work with Joel and I do-”

“Maybe I am a violent person now? This is the person I need to be now, to keep myself safe, to keep us safe!” Frankie slams his hands against the cupboard and stalks out of the kitchen, turning and gripping the back of the couch as he gets to it, looking back at you. “I do it for you, don’t you get it?! Maybe this is the person I have to be now to keep myself safe, for you, to stay alive for you because I have to keep you safe!”

“Then stay here, stay in the QZ,” you follow him towards the living room. “I don’t want you to go out any more if this is what you have to do. It’s destroying you!”

“That's all I can do!” he shouts back at you, “That’s all I’m tra-trained for, I’m the b-best at it! It’s the only thing that makes a difference!”

“Frankie, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Frankie just shakes his head and starts pacing the living room like he can’t hear you.

“E-every time I leave you make me p-promise to come back safe, did you ever stop to think that this is what I have to do to keep that promise to you?! I have to stay alive to keep you safe, I promised you that and now you think I’m a monster for what I have to do?”

Frankie slams his hands hard against the wall and spins round, stomping across the living room again and you’re worried now, he’s spiraling out of control, his voice becoming more and more unstable. “I d-do this for you, I stay a-alive for you, don’t you get it! I would’ve fucking ki-killed myself after she died! I was so fucking close to it, so-s-so fucking close to just walking into that fucking lake and ending it! If-if it wasn’t for you still in that cabin!” His voice is rising to a shout, spinning around and slamming his fist into the wall again, “I just..I promise to come back every time, I have to come back but you still think I’m just violent, just a fucking monster, just a mo-monster, I-I can’t- “

“Frankie, c’mon man!”

You didn’t even hear the front door open but Pope suddenly walks into the living room. You’re frozen by the kitchen as Frankie paces, more and more agitated, back and forth, his arms waving in front of him as his mind whirls. You can see his glassy eyes, his breathing is starting to get erratic but you have no idea how to stop this. But Pope strides over to his friend and stands in front of him, forcing him to come to a halt.

“Francisco, cálmate, hermano. Por favor;” he tries to catch Frankie’s eyes, gently placing his hands on his shoulders and holding on as Frankie tries to shrug them off, looking at him with almost unseeing eyes.

“Frankie…fuck…” he sighs as he scans his face, “you’re high as a fucking kite. What did you take?”

At that Frankie’s eyes snap up to Pope’s, “Fucking nothing!” he snarls, wrenching himself away and stumbling back towards the couch.

“Fish, I’ve seen you high more times than you can remember, I know when you’ve been using, man,” Pope says as Frankie grabs the back of the couch again, hiding his eyes beneath the bill of his cap again, refusing to look at you or Santi.

“Frankie…” you try, your voice wobbling as you recognize the signs in him but he just shakes his head.

“I had a few drinks with Joel, I’m not fucking high,” he mutters but Santi shakes his head.

“C’mon, Fish, I know you’re struggling, she knows it too, we just wanna help you,” he takes a few steps towards Frankie, the frustration seeping through into his voice and Frankie backs away, turning around and going for his backpack.

“I’m not fucking high,” he snarls over his shoulder, rifling through his backpack.

“Fine, you’re not using,” Santi says, “then show us your pack.” He motions towards the bag at Frankie’s feet and the way Frankie reacts makes your stomach sink another notch. His hands clench instinctively around the opening, pulling it closer but Pope steps in and reaches for the bag. Frankie abruptly stands up and stumbles back, grabbing it but his movements are slow and Pope’s faster, he snatches the backpack from Frankie, holding it away from him.

“Coño, pendejo!” Frankie snarls, trying to grab the bag back from Pope, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “What the fuck are you doing, Frankie?” Pope replies with a sneer, shoving him back and Frankie, already unsteady on his feet, stumbles backwards and falls onto the couch. “You told me yourself, never trust a fucking junkie.”

Keeping an eye on Frankie, while you stand stunned by the kitchen door, your hands gripping the door frame so hard your fingers ache, Pope opens the backpack and digs through it. It doesn’t take him long, under Frankie’s dull eyes he soon pulls out a small baggie with white pills. Pope sighs and holds it out to Frankie.

“What is it?”

“Painkillers,” Frankie mumbles, but his eyes drop from Pope to his feet, his lie so obvious it forces tears into your eyes.

“Frankie…” you whisper and he glances up at you and meets your eyes for a second before he looks away. But even in that brief glance you see the pain and guilt in his eyes and it pushes you to move, walking around the coffee table and sinking down on the couch next to him. You raise your hand to put it on his shoulder but before you touch him he’s on his feet, snatching the bag from Pope’s hand.

“It’s fucking painkillers, ok?!” he yells, his aggression flaring up as he stumbles towards the front door.

“Catfish, for fucks sake,” Pope shouts as his patience snaps, “get your fucking shit together, man!”

“Please, Frankie, you know this is your PTSD making you spiral, we’ve been here before,” you plead with him, standing up again as he stops with his back to you and the room. But whatever is in his system has control of him now as he shakes his head, his fingers twitching around the small baggie in his hand. Neither of you are getting through to him now, his body language closed off, even with his back turned you see the walls go up. But still, you go up to him where he stands by the door. His chin is on his chest, his shoulders up by his ears, you can feel the tension rolling off him as he fights whatever demon is in his mind. Gently you put your hand on his arm, and he trembles under your touch, giving the smallest shake of his head.

“Frankie…” you whisper, “please, stay with me, we’ve done this before, we can do it again, I love you.”

He shudders, a long held breath rushes out of him and he shakes his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I love you, I’m sorry.” He pushes open the door and his arm slips from under your hand. You hear him run down the stairs and Santi comes up behind him, he’s got his coat on.

“I’ll follow him, I won’t let him get into more trouble, I’ll get him back,” he gives you a quick squeeze and hurries after Frankie.

…

Frankie rushes through the streets, the bag of oxy burning a hole in his pocket. He has no plan for where to go, he left his coat back at the apartment and the cold March air is making him shiver. Picking up his pace he turns at random, down a street, and then another, losing himself in the narrow alleys of North End, but it doesn’t surprise him when he finds himself in front of Joel’s apartment building, a dirty red brick block. It makes sense; to end up here. He pushes the door open and stumbles up the stairs.

Joel’s slow to answer his front door, Frankie’s almost given up, prepared to sit and wait by the door, when the older man finally opens up and looks him up and down. “Hey Frankie, what’s up? You’ve got no jacket on.”

“I ran out on it, left in a hurry,” Frankie mumbles in reply, his mind is still foggy, he can’t quite focus on Joel. “I got some of your supply on me, Pope found it in my bag.”

“Ah, bet he wasn’t too happy about that,” Joel says, waving Frankie inside. “He ain’t too happy about me wanting to trade what we got up in Concord.” He closes the door and motions to the couch and Frankie slumps down on it as Joel goes to the kitchen and pulls out two glasses and a bottle.

“Give me one of those too,” Joel motions to Frankie’s pocket and sits down at the other end of the couch. Frankie pulls out the baggie and pour out the pills on the coffee table, handing one to Joel, taking another one for himself and they both down it with the whiskey.

Joel’s not one for talking much and Frankie’s grateful, he just needs a place to forget everything for a while. And for a long time both men sit at opposite sides of the couch, lost in their own minds as the chemicals take over. Frankie tilts his head back, his eye following the cracks in the ceiling until they slip closed and he just feels himself breathing, finally peace takes over in his mind as the fog settles.

Joel slips in another pill and another few large mouthfuls of the liquor, leaning back against the back of the couch and rubbing his eyes with his hand.

“You lost your daughter,” he says, almost surprising himself when the words come out.

Frankie doesn’t move, his eyes closed, “Yeah,” he squeezes his eyes shut, little sparks of red and yellow blossoming behind his eyelids, but he sees something else in his mind.

He tilts his head forward, opening his eyes and focusing on his hands, “Yeah,” he says again, rubbing his thumb over the fleshy part of his hand, he can almost see the blood on it. “I did, right at the beginning.”

“She got infected?”

Frankie balks at the question, the image of his little girl, mycelium under her skin, flashes up in his mind. He’s seen multitudes of infected since, killed so many, seen the thin white strands wriggle towards him as they attack and die in front of him, but he never lets himself commit what they look like to memory. This one is the only one that he remembers.

“Yeah,” he nods, “one of the first days.”

He and Joel have never talked about this before. He never talks to anyone about Lucía or what happened to her, not even to the one person who knows what he went through in the aftermath.

He glances over at Joel, he’s still leaning back on the couch, his hand rubbing over his eyes.

“D’you ever talk about Sarah?”

“No.” The answer is fast and curt.

Both men sit in silence for a few minutes, Joel shifts on the couch, looking over at Frankie, “Everyone’s lost someone. No one wants to hear about her.”

“How did she die?” Frankie locks eyes with Joel, suddenly it feels important to know how Sarah died. Joel knows how Lucía died, it feels important to know how Sarah died too. Joel meets his eyes for a few beats before he drops his gaze and stares at the wall opposite.

“It was the first night. We were trying to get away from town, ran into the military perimeter, a soldier shot at us. She…” Joel loses his words, his jaw clenching shut as he grinds his teeth, dropping his head between his shoulders.

Frankie feels the fog swirl around his mind, letting the minutes slip by while Joel stares down at his watch.

“I shot Lucía,” Frankie says, like a confession to Joel, to the man whose daughter was also shot. As if it makes a difference how they died. The daughters died and so did the fathers, when they failed.

The fog in his head clears slightly and behind the mist he sees the gun in his hand, aimed at his little girl, who no longer recognises him as she screeches and flails under the weight of her mother’s body. He reaches forward to the coffee table and takes two more pills, swallowing them down with the last of the whiskey in his glass, letting the fog cloud his mind again.

Joel blinks and looks at Frankie as if he has to think about what the other man just said, “You shot her?”

“I had to, I’d seen what they were turning into. I couldn’t…”

Joel leans forward, refilling his own glass and Frankies before he leans back, “I would’ve done the same.”

The two men sit in silence as the fog swirls through them, making thoughts slow to appear and slow to disappear.

“Sarah,” Frankie says, pushing a thought to the front of his hazy mind, “S-she was a great kid, L-Lucía loved her, fucking loved her. Didn’t stop talking about her for days after we got back.”

He grips the glass and takes a sip, shaking his head, trying to remember the comforting thought he just had, it’s stuck somewhere in his chest, he can feel it.

“I don’t…I do-don’t believe in God, I l-lost any faith I had in the army, you know. S-so many fucked up things that I saw, that I did,” he says, lifting his glass, motioning to the world outside. “I don’t believe in any god, any-anything. But I wish I did, because if Sarah d-died on that first night, that means that wherever they went, our kids, our little girls…Sarah was there waiting for Lucía. They weren’t alone,” Frankie pauses, he feels his chest constrict, that feeling like he can’t breathe threatening to overtake him. “I’d like to believe they weren’t alone,” he whispers, but in the quiet room, Joel still hears him.

Frankie slumps back down on the couch, spilling whiskey down his shirt, his burst of clarity suddenly spent, “They would’ve had each other…”

“We failed them,” Joel says, his voice low, Frankie can hear the fog in his mind too. “We should’ve kept them safe, but all we did was stand there. Couldn’t keep ‘em safe.”

Frankie nods, he feels his brain slowing down again, “I made so many mistakes…but she was the best mistake I made…couldn’t keep her safe,” he takes a large mouthful of the whiskey, it burns on the way down, distracting his mind for a second as he coughs.

“I don’t talk about Sarah, not even to Tommy,” Joel says, rubbing his thumb over the rim of the glass. “ ‘S’no point, just makes me angrier, I get by better if I don’t think about her.”

Frankie slumps down deeper into the couch, curling himself around the glass in his hand, watching the whiskey swirl around as the fog in his brain follows the motions.

“How do you stay alive,” he mumbles to the room and Joel tilts his head to look at the younger man, curled into the corner of the ratty old couch. The question is more for himself than for Joel but Joel answers anyway.

“For family,” he nods slowly, once, to himself, “for family, for Tommy. And for your woman, she kept you alive.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement and Frankie sighs.

“She doesn’t think I should do runs any more, and she’s right, I know she’s right,” he mutters, pushing his cap off his head and rubbing his temple with his free hand, the fog is lifting again and he feels the edge of panic in his mind, but he can’t remember what he’s should panic about.

“Why not? The drugs?” Joel motions at the dwindling pile of pills on the coffee table and Frankie grabs two of them, knocking them back with the whiskey still in his hand.

“My head is fucked up. From the army. ‘S’gets worse sometimes, ‘s’gets worse when I do runs, when I do violent things.” Frankie sighs, “She doesn’t like it.”

Joel snorts, a mirthless sound, “Men like us, you ‘n me, we do the violent things so others don’t have to, you keep her safe.”

“S’what I t-told h-her,” Frankie grumbles, he can feel his head getting heavier, the fog is so thick he can’t even push his tongue through it, it’s sticking to his teeth. “I do it-do it, t-to keep he-her safe.” He sinks further into the couch, his head leaning on the back of it as he wills his hand to lift up the glass to his lips and drain it. “I-I do it t-to come b-back t-to h-er.”

Through the fog in his own mind Joel sees Frankie tip forward, the empty glass in his hand, as he passes out. Joel’s glass clatters to the floor as he stumbles to his feet and staggers into the bedroom, falling onto the bed, passing out as his head hits the pillow.

Chapter 31

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

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xmorguekittyx · 7 months

Text

Ever Locked

Part 4: Good Night, Bunny

Part 3: With Your Ghost

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy × Ex!Coroner's Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of enjoying inflicting emotional and physical pain on another, just Leon’s pov on things right now.

Fucking rain. Every single day, nothing like the thick air, the feeling of Raccoon City before its inevitable bombing. Boots clap against the rain puddles, slick as the show slides on the step, nearly knocking me off balance and into the small bushes by the hotel door way. "Shit-", the word spat as my hand clutches at the automatic door, stilling it. "Fucking rain, can't wait to get back to my place.", all the more reason to get into her mind, to open Pandora's Box into the mind of the woman of the hour.

My phone dings as I adjust the whiskey bottles in the bag, shifting from my right to left hand, reaching for the Motorola Razr, the fucking brick costing much more than i wanted to pay. Chris Redfield sent a message. A grumble left my lips as i entered the doors, heading to the shiny elevator. Tapping his stupid little contact photo opened the message; "so, when were you gonna tell everyone you were over 3000 miles away? You know we listed you as MIA and had a chopper checking around your house, right? Never understood why you needed to live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, had us worried you went off the deep end or something." I could nearly hear Rebecca hitting him in the shoulder for the last part.

My choices in house placement was quite simple; remote enough to not have any issues with neighbors- like a certain old hag who should've minded her own business- then, were close enough to a small town with a grocery store and a post office. It's perfect. Small, far away from everyone else and it can be a small safe space for the family i'm going to build. I have lived my life giving and giving and giving, giving up my life to the government, letting all my wants go to work on missions, letting vacations slip past me just so i can work my ass off one more time and get denied the next vacation. I never have a moment to myself until i'm MIA.

I'll be selfish, this time around, i'll be selfish. I want one thing to myself, my home to myself. I want her, bunny, to myself. The future is so uncertain, but in certainty, i know i will have her and she will be away from everything and everyone. She'll be something just for me, for my pleasure. It's selfish, god, it's wrong to be so self centered to throw off someone's life so horribly, but i can't find it in myself to regret the choice i've made to come and find her.

The elevator dings, bringing my attention to the wobbly reflection. My hair is dark with grease, my skin dry and flakey in parts, my hand comes up just as the doors open. Fingers rubbing at the rough scruff that coats my jaw. I looked like shit, honestly, i would've cried had i seen myself too. As the door threaten to close once more, i step out. The hallway is lit with a warm lamp, it was short and the rain taps against the windows with a rhythmic patter. I wonder what she's doing, is she worrying? Is she scared that i'm back, or is that perfect new boyfriend currently too busy keeping her wrapped around him? The latter causes my brows to drop.

The keycard taps the lock, hearing a beep and a green light before my, still wobby, legs threaten to let me fall. The handle is clicked quickly, falling under the weight of my hand. The room is... clean, at the most, plain. Very minimalistic. The bed is neat, the coffee cups wrapped, definitely won't be touching those, unless they have the creamer i like. Coffee left a bad taste, trying to down that god awful black coffee to impress the older officers still made me want to throw up. The bitterness, i wasn't someone into the bitter things, despite how bland my life had become. Time didn't stop for me to indulge in anything sweet or extra. That's why i won't answer that message, once i acknowledge it all, then come questions, why's, when's, where's. I don't have the time, I needed to set my plan in place. I needed to know that things were gonna work out this time, this opportunity.

The desk is clear of anything, which is good, my bags lay underneath from my earlier visit before the White Wolf. Duffel bags of clothes, files and photos. It was time... but a drink first wouldn't hurt. A soft sigh leaves my lips as i lay the whiskey bottles down, hearing them clink together. Jack Daniel's, wasn't the top shelf shit- but it was cheap and whiskey tastes like whiskey once you've downed enough- they all taste the same.

The bag rustles as i fish out the first bottle, nearly half empty from the gas station down the road. My boots slide off with ease as i step towards the coffee maker, pulling one of the little paper cups from the stack. "As good as any.", my shoulders weigh with a shrug before the cap is off and the cup is half full of warm whiskey. The amber liquor burns, the flavor vanilla-ish. Something i should've looked at before throwing the cash on the counter. Alcohol is alcohol, at the end of the day.

My back hits the bedding, cup laid aside on the side table. The thoughts of the past few years flooding my mind, the latest tragedy being my team being ratted out and only myself coming out as a survivor. It never seems to fail, anyone close to me... their life is cut short by some tragedy or they're in danger at my hands. It was a cycle, one i wouldn't let touch the innocence of my bunny. The pillow engulfs my cheek as i lay my head upon it, the inside rough but manageable as i reach out for the cup, my fingers pushing it further away before catching the rim and pulling it closer.

My head aches with the next round of thunder, the lightening cracking over the dim room. Engulfing everything in a light for a few seconds, the painting across from the bed getting my attention. It looked... angry, and yet it was just swipes of black and red paint over a white background. What? You gonna say it's some internal struggle i'm having or something. is it like those tests the therapist hands you to get a read on you? The liquid in the cup splashes as i swirl it, my mind bouncing from left to right. It feels surreal, im sure it does for her, too. The moment i've been anticipating since i saw the name under a few address, the moment she's been dreading since that faithful day. It's crazy how much fate can dictate.

The Chinese have a legend, about a red string of fate tied between two lovers. It's a beautiful story-pictures of fingers intertwined with the others, red string wrapped delicately around pinkies and swirling around the hands that finally met their match. It's beautiful until the string is tied around your throat by the one tethered to the other side, that string of fate is telling. What was meant to show you endless care and tenderness now tightly stealing away the very air that kept you alive, that tore at the delicate flesh, its motives unknown and terrifying.

Another rumble of thunder and that thought too is ripped from my consciousness. I see the fault in my plans, don't get me wrong. I'm not insane. I simply don't care, i want this and for once in my miserable life, im going to get something i want. She's just the poor soul who has to be the one i set my sights on. She loved me once too, you know? She said it- herself- she loved me. She let me see her vulnerable and bare. I want to see it again, that bitch at the bar declined giving me Bunny's new number. What a stuck up bitch. A laugh ripped past my lips, the liquor splashing out of the cup lip and landing on my cheek as i wipe it away quickly. Hand once more in my scruffy, growing in beard. I wonder if i should keep it, at least while i'm here? Nah. I never could grow a nice full beard, mine always patchy and uneven. It is what it is, but i'm not shaving it right now. My eyes are stinging, head falling back on the pillow as the cup slides back onto the night stand.

The clothes call to me from their bag, begging for me to change into the soft grey sweatpants that have been my favorite for years now. I feel a twitch in my leg, a pushing force that is quickly pushed away. That can wait for tomorrow, as can planning. The bed is too magnetic to my body. The sheets already bunched under my weight, fingers digging around to grip the sheet and pull it up, promptly causing my muscles to ache, realizing i have, indeed, made no progress, my legs stand for a millisecond, before i'm back into the bed, quicker than the bag can see. Nothing outweighed the amount of exhaustion that built up in my brain.

The aircon kicks on, the room settling at a nice sixteen nine degrees. Cold and enough the blanket keeps me warm. The buzz of the alcohol and the warm and cool feeling just about as perfect as it can get. Something feels as if it's missing, like there's something that should be here and isn't, but i think i know what it is. I think it's always been missing and the sleepless nights had me begging any god that i'd have that back. Sleep doesn't come easily for me anymore, but knowing her presence isn't as far as i anticipated, has me feeling slightly more relaxed. Maybe enough to settle into bed all night, or enough to keep staying asleep the entirety. Either way, as long as i sleep. I can't keep pushing missions with no rest, last mission i was nearly left back there. Sleep is a necessity that hasn't been fulfilled since her disappearance. I know it wasn't her choice or fault either too.

That's why I'd wanted to speak with her at her work, to see if all these years anything had changed. I know it probably has, but does she still bring that peace and calmness to me, can she still cause me to snap instantly with her little smart ass behavior? I have to know. Either way, she's mine. She's always been mine.

The sheets cocoon me, cradling my body as I slept in my daily clothes. It didn't matter, i'd slept in abandoned ships, cots that were as hard as a plank of wood, in 3 day old clothes, bed for other men who hadn't showered in weeks. This bed, felt amazing, compared. The curtains letting the lightening crack over my face but the stinging stalled as the darkness encroached my eyes. The fluttering causing a tear slipped pasty cheek. warm as i nearly got to that state of peace. Work can be done tomorrow, plans, actions and strong up my temporary home, it'll all work out. Good night, Bunny...

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thatbanditqueen · 4 months

Text

A Basic Training Snippet

Life has been very cruel and gotten between me and my favorite pastime... writing delusional scenarios in which I, I mean my original characters, dated Elvis Presley. So I thought for fun I would just share a very short snippet from the chapter of Basic Training I am working on, in which Elvis invites Bess to spend the weekend with him in Waco at the house of his friend, DJ and TV host Eddie Fadal.

This is very rough, I am not sure if it sounds like Elvis, I need to go back through it once I finish the chapter. I haven't even had anyone alpha this. However, I had at one point told @be-my-ally I would participate in the writing prompt "weather" and post Sunday (yesterday) and so this is my very pathetic attempt to just post something that at least mentions weather in passing...

If you want to read or catch up on this WIP you can find it here

“Well, you know I’m mainly a legs and ass man, through and through, but boy oh boy, Bessie is stacked. I tell ya what. Fa sho. I don’t know how it's possible, but they’re even bigger when you got ‘em in ya hands. Why you nodding Lamar, you ain’t ever gotten to second base, quit lyin.”

The rain had stopped by the time Bess opened her eyes again to find the bed empty, though she could still hear the drip drop of water through the hole. There it was, like an inverted nipple in the middle of the new glossy pink wall, a perfect round sphere with layers of drywall caved in around the edges where the firework had shot through. The smell of cigarettes wafted in from outside, along with a set of men's voices. Bess was about to call to them when she heard Elvis say the word “Anita.”

There was laughter, then the sound of slaps and skids along concrete, as if a scuffle had broken out, followed by more laughter.

“Shit, but you’re wrong, Rex, cuz there are really only two types of girls. See, with ‘Nita, she is a good girl, but she puts it all on the table. If I’m happy, she’s happy, that’s all she wants. She let's it all hang out. All I gotta do is look at her and smile and she’s gonesville. But then, then there are the ones who keep it all tied up. You know, you saw it Lamar, when I come down here, Anita was ballin her damn eyes out. Now Bess, Bess’d never let you see her cry. Not if she can halp it. She plays it cool. But when you touch her you can feel her vibrating underneath that ice, jus enough to know her motor's running. And boy, when you get it going, what a motor. When she cries out, man, you know ya really earned it. Know what I mean?"

There was some muffled laughter, and Bess couldn’t quite hear everything, but what she did hear made her face flush a deep crimson red.

“Oh, well I found out last night. I swear, Bess tastes so fresh and sweet, I know I’m the first guy she let touch her.”

“Nah, a college girl?”

“What do you know, huh, lardass? Reckon I been with seventy five, no, I mean a hundred or more girls. Trust me, I know women, that girl spent college with her nose in her books.”

“Now you got your nose in her - OW - what the fuck?”

“I don’t wanna hear you talk bout her like that, got it?”

“But you just -”

“But you just, but you just, just mind ya goddamn manners.”

Bess sat there, unsure if she wanted to keep listening, but as she turned she was distracted by a dark set of eyes staring her from the doorway. She pulled the strap of her nightie up, and smoothed her hair back as she smiled at Janice Fadal.

“Mommy told me not to wake you up, so I’ve just been sitting here waiting. Ready to do my make up again?”

Bess nodded, relaxing as she stood and patted the little girl’s head.

“Sure, just let me get dressed, huh?’

Then Janice’s slick little tongue curved up and licked the bottom of Bess’ wrist.

“I don’t think you taste like ice cream at all. More like salt. “

*******************************************************************

more to come, let me know what you think....

@whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @moonchild-daniella @richardslady121 @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @eliseinmemphis @kingdomforapony @everythingelvispresley @dkayfixates @artlover8992 @freudianslumber @amydarcimarie @toreigh @18lkpeters @yynneessmons @ashtag6887 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @bigromansgirl @louisejoy86 @notstefaniepresley

#snippety snip #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley fanfiction #basic training #army elvis #banditqueenwrites

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berberriescorner · 1 year

Text

Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part One)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part One) 4,100+/9,000+. Sorry, lovelies, I couldn’t stop😆.

A/N: Yes, it’s lengthy, but the idea snowballed into something unexpected. I hope you all enjoy it!

Inspired By:

Lounging lazily on your king-size bed, you laid on your back comfortably in an oversized t-shirt. You silently scrolled through Instagram. Your breath hitched at the feel of fingertips gently stroking your calves. Still staring at the phone screen, a wicked little idea popped into your head. You smirked, tapping the add a new post button. Using your free hand, you positioned it atop the head that rested on your pelvis and between your thighs. Not wanting to give him reason to stir, you gently stroked his head, and he relaxed into your touch. The movement of your hand paused long enough to snap the picture. He was none the wiser as he continued to search for something to watch on HBO Max. Eyes still searching the screen, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Soft ass thighs.”

A soft moan fell from your lips. You made sure Yahya’s face wasn’t in the shot. Your digits glided across the keyboard, adding a Nicki Minaj lyric as the caption, “My man full, he just ate💦😘.” You tapped the post button and laid your phone on the nightstand.

Yahya had just licked you to tears. No one knew about the two of you. That you started as best friends turned into a sneaky link. The both of you have secretly been trying to figure out what this was morphing into. Unsure of where things were going, you decided to keep things quiet. You both enjoyed teasing the people in your inner circle on IG (they were all extremely nosey). Thus the reason for posting said pic—that it would sometimes get a rise out of the other person was a bonus.

Yahya received a notification that you had posted. Still lying between your legs, he teased, “What thirst trap are you posting now?” He froze, seeing a picture of his current position. He huffed, “You for real?”

Yahya rolled over, still lying on top of your stomach. His hand rained down on your thigh.

“I thought this was supposed to be on the low? You damn near ripped my head off for telling my bro I was over here in the middle of the night. I guess the rules only apply to me,” Yahya grumbled. His face changed from frustration to a sly grin.

“Boy, calm down. Nobody’s going to know that’s you. That’s what makes it so exciting, you teased. “And why do you have that stupid grin on your face?”

“I just noticed the caption, so I’m your man now?”

“Don’t do too much. They’re just lyrics. Relax, my guy.”

“Yeah, right. When are we going to stop playing this game?”

“What game, Yah'?”

“Stop acting like this isn’t more than just a sneaky link now. I’ve been blowing your back out for over four months.”

“And I greatly appreciate it. Why do we have to get into specifics? We have amazing sex. No need to make it more complicated.”

“Are you dating anyone else? I know you better not be fucking anybody other than me, Y/N.”

“I’d hardly call a few dinner dates that haven’t gone past friends, dating. It’s been nothing but innocent, Yah'.”

His jaw ticked at the revelation of you being in the presence of another man’s company.

“For the record, I don’t make a habit of having more than one sexual partner. That’s your thing, not mine.”

“You refuse to let that shit go, huh? I slept with her one time! We had just started whatever this was at the time. I cut her off once I knew this wasn't a one-and-done situation. Who exactly did you go on a date with, sweetheart?”

The question and term of endearment dripped with jealousy. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for more confrontation. There was no doubt in your mind that the answer would upset him.

“Michael. I know you don’t like him. We just went on two dates. Nothing happened, Yah'.”

He pulled into a seated position on the mattress.

“Out of all these thirsty ass dudes that beg for your attention. He had to be the one you said yes to. How many times have I told you that’s a waste of your time? How do I get you to understand that he just wants to knock you down?”

“Is that not what you’re doing with me?“

“Stop that shit. You know how I feel about you. Your ass doesn't want to hear it because you’re scared. We both know this could be so much more.”

“This is stupid. Why are we arguing? We’re not a couple. This is supposed to be easy and chill.”

“There you go deflecting as usual,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to delete the damn picture, Yahya? It’s the reason this conversation even took place.”

“No, no. Leave it up. You know what? You’re right, love. Lay back down. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.”

Yahya was the least bit worried about your IG post. It was only for close friends, and he wanted them to wonder. Acting angry was just a means to an end. He had a reason to get his lick back. Now, he had an excuse for what he was planning.

Hearing you went on two dates with Michael sent jealousy coursing through his veins. He made a mental note to keep his enemies closer. Seeing that you were focused on the show, he went to Instagram. Yahya went to Michael’s page and added him to his close friends.

He wanted to see how your friends were reacting to your photo. He pulled up your page and skimmed through the comments. Yahya chuckled at your best friend's comment. In bold letters, she said, “Okay, best friend! I see you! No clue who that is, but get that head in your comfortable bed! Yaaasss👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾. I expect full details and a face reveal when we link tomorrow. I’m tired of all this damn anonymity.” Yahya laughed, knowing that you weren’t giving up any information.

Yahya waited two days before he put his plan in motion. He hit your line, inviting you for a movie night at his place. You were sure the night would end on your back with Yahya between your thighs. Anytime the two of you were alone, your hands always seemed to roam. Every time you two gave into temptation, it would go for rounds. Knowing this, you brought an overnight bag. He knew just how to put you to sleep.

Only twenty minutes into the movie, you were already at the edge of the mattress. Yahya placed you on all fours with your box braids wound tightly around his hand. He tugged at them, pulling you into the most perfect of arches. His free hand crept to the top of his nightstand. You were plunged deep into the throes of passion and hadn’t noticed him pick up his phone. The only light in the room came from the television. Pistoning in and out of your tight walls, he managed to open Instagram. Yahya needed it to be pitch black to pull off his scheme.

“Nobody watching this shit for real, baby. Alexa! Turn off the tv in the master bedroom,” he groaned.

The tv shut off as he pulled out and slammed back into your slick heat.

“Ye-yes. Fuck, baby,” you cried, arching your back deeper.

His face lit up at that. He continued giving slow, deep strokes as he recorded you both in the dark.

Yahya made sure this was for close friends only. With confirmation, he laid the phone on the mattress next to the two of you. He proceeded to put in work, going crazy in your walls. Your sweet, soft, and sensual moans were like music to his ears. You were used to Yahya laying some good pipe, but tonight he was on demon time. This man was trying to tear your walls down and ruin you for any other man.

“Feel me deep in your shit, baby?”

You moaned in response.

He thrust so deep that your hands instantly flew to his abdomen. You tried to push back against his stomach, wanting him to take it easy on you. He growled, binding your wrist with his free hand.

“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he half moaned, half growled. His hand let go of your hair and rained down, smacking and grabbing your left cheek. He slapped the right cheek before burying his digits in your braids again. “I thought you could take all of it, baby? That’s what you begged for. Right, love? Hmm? This ain’t what you wanted?”

You whimpered.

A faint “Please, Daddy” escaped your lips.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“I can-ah!”

“Yes, you can, baby. You gon’ be my good girl, and take it,” he whispered, trailing kisses down your back, fully sheathing himself inside you. His length tapped that spot deep within you.

“Y-yes, baby, I’ll take it, g-give me that di-Yes, Yah'!”

Yahya tapped at your spot repetitively, sending you spiraling. You buried your face in the mattress, clawing at the bedding. Your release approached, barreling toward you like a freight train as you attempted to muffle your screams in the sheets.

“Good. Fucking. Girl. Each word was highlighted with another thrust. “Yeah, come just like that, mama.”

Satisfied with himself, Yahya ended the video and posted it to his stories. He hoped none of your closest friends would recognize your voice. There was only one person he needed to figure it out, Michael. Yahya knew you were going to throw a fit, but so long as nobody could see you. He felt he could get you to be cool with it. Leaning against you, he licked, nibbled, and kissed your shoulder. He was still plunged deep inside you and solid as a rock. Yahya’s lips trailed over to your ear. Releasing a deep groan, he rasped, “Hope you got one more in you, love. Daddy needs to come too. He pulled out until it was just the tip. About to respond, he plunged deep inside, forcing you to gasp. Yahya pulled two more orgasms from your body before spilling inside you.

He made quick work of getting a warm cloth to clean you up. You moaned at the sweet actions of his aftercare. Yahya smirked at how easily it was to turn you on. He swaggered into the bathroom and finished cleaning himself up.

Collapsing into bed, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours. Rolling onto your side, you pushed back against him, making yourself the little spoon. Yahya’s hand crept from your thigh and up the side of your body. His large palm found its destination as it gently cupped your breast. His lips left light kisses on your shoulder and neck.

“You’re always trying to cop a feel,” you sassed, sucking your teeth.

“You know this is my emotional support Titty.”

“Shut up, Yah',” you giggled.

Yahya bit his lip and smirked as he tweaked your nipple.

“Uhn-uh! If you’re going to be on my body like this, your ass needs to behave and sit still. I’m exhausted thanks to your big dick bandit ass,” you teased.

“You know you like that shit,” he responded, tugging at your nipple again.

He pressed his semi-hard erection against you. The action caused your breath to hitch.

“Tell me you don’t want me again, and I’ll let you sleep,” he whispered, nibbling your earlobe.

About to reply sarcastically, you lost your train of thought as he dipped his hand between your thighs.

“You were saying something, love?”

“Fuck, you don’t play fair,” you panted.

“Come here, mama. Want you to ride me.”

Sliding down his length, it became clear you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Yah', baby,” you whined.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m going to make you feel good. Ride me, mama,” he urged, guiding your hips.

Though he had fallen asleep satiated and peacefully, his morning was the opposite. Yahya jolted out of his sleep as he struggled to breathe. You had covered his face with a pillow while chastising him.

“I just know your big-headed ass didn’t record us fucking and post it to close friends! Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”

Yahya's hand tugged at the pillow over his face. He snatched the pillow, throwing it across the room. He overpowered you, flipping you onto your back as he smirked.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want your side hoes to find out about me?”

“The only side hoe I have is you.”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’m your main dude. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Whatever! You better hope nobody recognizes my voice, freaky ass,” you kissed your teeth.

“Oh, I hope they do,” he smiled. “You’re not even mad, for real. I know that shit lowkey turns you on. Listen to those pretty little moans, mama.”

You did your best to bite back a smile but lost. Yahya licked his lips, giving you a million-dollar smile.

“I know I sound good. You ain’t gotta sweat me or nothin’.”

“I should’ve left the lights on while I recorded that shit. Give them something to really talk about.”

“You want to tell people we fuck so bad,” you teased.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. I’ma make you mine, shortie. You can continue to run from it but in the end. You’re going to be mine.”

Wanting to avoid such a touchy topic, you switched the subject.

“Boy, shut up and feed me. I’m hungry. What’s for breakfast, best friend?”

Yahya smiled devilishly, “This dick.”

“Nasty ass. I want food, Yah',” you whined.

“That’s a whole ass meal, fuck you mean?”

Eyes rolling and smacking your teeth, he laughed.

“I forgot how cranky you can be in the mornings. Let’s get the baby’s tummy full. What do you want to eat, baby girl,” he responded in his best baby voice.

“Can you make french toast and bacon? You make it better than I do,” you asked in a cute tone.

“You know I can’t say no to that voice and face. Come on, spoiled brat,” he teased as he slapped your thigh.

Yahya scooped you from the bed, dangling your body over his shoulder. His hand grabbed a handful of your behind, giving it a loud smack.

“Ouch, Yah'! That hurt,” you whined.

“I didn’t mean to smack it that hard. My bad,” he smirked, rubbing the pain away.

“Lying ass.”

Carting you off to the kitchen, he got you fed and full. Neither of you had anything planned. The two of you spent the remainder of your Sunday binging television and ordering takeout.

When the time came for you to head out, Yahya felt his chest tighten. He was sad to see you leave. If only you two could figure out where to go from here. He’d have you sleeping in his bed every night. Little did you know, your best friend’s feelings for you had existed as long as the friendship had. He just never knew how to tell you. The chemistry and attraction lingered between the two of you. That is, until one drunken night, he did something about it. He fell back on his couch, missing you already, as his mind drifted back to that night.

You were spiraling down a black hole of heartbreak. Yahya came running to offer support and a listening ear to vent to.

His fist balled up, jaw flexing as his memory replayed the image of you opening the door.

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy as you did your best to keep from crying again. Yahya’s heart sank seeing how distraught you were. He stepped closer to you, and in a low baritone, he said, “Hey, mama.” The sympathy in his soothing voice sent a fresh trail of tears rolling down your cheeks. He sighed as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Yahya’s chin rested on your head as you curled into his chest, body trembling as the tears flowed. “You’re going to be straight, mama. I promise I got you,” he soothed, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He gave you a minute or two to let it all out. Releasing you, he bent back, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears. Yahya leaned forward, sweeping you up bridal style. “Let’s get you comfy on the couch. I’ll fix us some drinks and snacks. Then you can tell me everything, alright?” Giving him a faint nod, Yahya kicked the door closed. He made quick work of getting you situated on the couch. Yahya wrapped you in your comfort blanket. Gently kissing your forehead, he whispered, “Be right back, love.”

He called from the kitchen, “Are you in the mood for something light or heavy?”

“This calls for the hard shit. Bring the tequila. I don’t even need a damn chaser. Give me something that will make me forget the last twenty-four hours.”

Yahya strode back into the living room, alcohol in hand.

“What are you about to tell me, love?”

“Maybe you should take a couple of shots first.”

Yahya set the shot glasses and bottle on the coffee table. His hand ran down his face as he took a deep breath, “Am I going to have to beat his ass?”

You sat up straight, dropping the blanket around your waist. Pouring two shots, you answered, “Just promise me you won’t lose your temper.”

“No.”

“Yah', please,” you begged, voice trembling.

“The desperation in your voice tells me that I’m going to regret this, but fine, I promise not to lose my temper. What happened?”

“Drink first.”

Shots were thrown back, and you grimaced, pouring out two more. After the second, you started to pour another round, but Yahya’s hand gently grasped your wrist, “No-.”

A small whimper fell from your lips as his eyes grew. Yahya’s eyes darted from your weary ones down to your wrist. His hands were like lightning as he slid your sleeve up a bit.

“No, fuck that, mama! Is this a bruise?”

“You promised, Yah'.”

“Promises are meant to be broken. Where the fuck is his punk ass at?”

He sprang from the couch, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Where’s he at?”

“No, please, Yahya. You promised! I handled it.”

“Why are you protecting his bitch ass? Has he been putting his hands on you this whole time?”

“I’m not protecting him. I know he’ll press charges against you. It’s not worth it. This is the only time it’s happened, honestly!”

“Don’t lie for him. Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.”

“I’m not lying, Yah'. This is the first time. I handled it, I swear. You should see the side of his face. I smacked the shit out of him.”

“Did he hit you anywhere else,” he asked, checking your face and body for more bruises.

“No, I’m telling you the truth. We were arguing about him getting caught up in his lies and cheating. I told him I was done and that he needed to get the hell out of my house. This dude had the nerve to snatch my wrist, demanding I hear him out. I told him he was hurting me. His response was he didn’t give a fuck. That pissed me off, so I slapped him. He charged at me, and I kicked him in the nuts. How do you cheat on me with a bitch I called a friend and have the nerve to be mad that I no longer wish to be with you? The audacity!”

“I pray he tries to show up while I’m here.”

“He won’t. It’s over, and he understands that now.”

Yahya looked at you, not quite believing it.

“I told his ass if he tried contacting or coming near me again that you’d beat his ass. That or he was going to have a chat with Nina.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to put hands on him. You swear your ass is tough with that baby Glock. Who the fuck puts hot pink on the butt of their gun,” he retorted.

“I don’t want you to, smart-ass, but he knows you would. It was only said to get my point across that I was done with him. Not too much on my baby, Nina.”

Yahya sighed, frustrated that he’d have to keep his promise. He reclaimed his spot on the couch, crossing his arms irritated. You kissed your teeth, “I know you're not mad at me for keeping you out of trouble?”

“It’s whatever. He needs his ass beat, though,” he sulked.

“Just leave it alone, Yah'.”

“I heard you the first time.”

The room grew quiet. It stayed that way for a little while. That was until he heard you sniffling.

“I’m not mad at you, love. I just really want to rock his shit.”

“I know you’re not mad at me. It’s just.”

“What is it, mama?”

“Am I not good enough? Dudes do me dirty, and people I call friends turn out to be grimy. You’re the only person who has always been down for me. I’m so thankful for your years of loyalty and friendship,” you rambled, tears sliding down your face.

Yahya pushed his anger aside, taking a deep breath. His hands reached for your arm, pulling you into him. His palm cradled your head, guiding you to lie against his chest. He kissed your temple, speaking words of encouragement.

“That’s just god's way of making room for the real ones to come into your life, mama. You’re going to be alright, love. You’ll shake back from this. You’re strong, girl. The right man is out there. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

As he held you, speaking enlightenment into you. Something shifted inside you. Not quite sure what the feeling was, you shook it off.

“More tequila,” you offered.

The pair of you went shot for shot. It only took a short time for you both to get drunk off your asses. In a drunken stupor, you both laughed as you recounted the numerous times you had to fake a climax with your ex. Yahya was in tears, holding his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

“This man had to be talked through eating the box. Every. Single. Time. At what point do you finally get the gist of eating pussy? I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did.”

“Why did you stay?”

“The dick was big.”

A hand flew to your mouth, covering your lips, shocked at what you had just revealed.

“Sorry. That was probably too much information. I need to stop drinking,” you slurred, no longer able to look him in the eyes.

Yahya cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Not too much. That’s some pretty useful information,” he rasped.

Your breath hitched as you looked into his chocolate orbs.

“I don’t follow.”

“That’s what you like, mama?”

Yahya’s hand trailed to your neck. His fingers circled your throat, giving a light squeeze. You knew you should pull away, but your mind and body said two different things.

“Yahya,” you whispered.

“Answer me, mama. That’s what you like?”

You moaned, nodding your head yes. Yahya licked his lips at your response.

“I want to hear you say it, love. Tell me what you like. I want to make sure you understand what I’m trying to say,” he groaned.

The liquor urged you to take it further. You leaned closer, his hand still squeezing your throat. Lips only inches apart, Yahya watched in awe as you answered, breath tickling his lips.

“I love a big, long, thick di-.”

Before you could finish the sentence, Yahya groaned and devoured your lips. Not giving it a second thought, he slid you on top of his lap as your tongues battled for dominance. Hand still placed around your neck, you ground against his lap, loving the groan he released.

“I can see why that was useful information now,” you purred.

It was evident, even inside his jeans, you could feel that he was massively large. You pulled back, slipping your shirt off, dropping it to the floor. His eyes sparkled at the sight of your breast as he cupped them, kissing and suckling your neck.

“Are you sure this is what you want, mama?”

“Yes, I want you, Yah'. Fuck the pain away, please.”

Kissing your lips again, he held you close as he raised from the sofa. Arms wrapped around his neck. You tasted each other's lips as Yahya carried you to the bedroom. The following morning wasn’t even awkward. That’s probably because you woke up with Yahya’s head between your thighs. A serious discussion occurred over breakfast. Though you both decided it probably shouldn’t happen again, time would reveal that it was too late to turn back.

I know I left it on yet another cliffhanger, but that's my specialty😆. I got my lovelies, though. The fic is complete, so slide on over to part two. Before you go, leave a comment and tap the love button. Reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

#berberriescorner #nobody's gonna know #part one #daddy yahya #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii x black!reader #yahya abdul mateen ii x reader #black writer #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #yahya fanfiction #yahya fic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfic #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #spotify

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cvsmixnaya · 1 year

Text

aot cast with an art student partner

pairings: various!aot x art student!reader

pronouns: none used but its gender neutral.

a/n: these are for my art babes out there. coming from an art student which is me‼️ i’ll do fashion next cause i’m into that too😋 enjoy this random ass headcanon. also the middle pic is my art hehe

eren

he’s more of a music guy but art and music go hand in hand and i’m here for it. hell he’ll even play tunes on his guitar while you’re working on art projects cause it’s so relaxing. if he’s not playing on the guitar he’ll play music on a speaker and just sit with you and watch you work. sometimes you two are fighting over what song to play it’s actually hilarious. you will want lana del rey and he will want post malone. yall take turns to play music but you both can agree on arctic monkeys. this guy won’t admit but he loves watching you do your art. he just loves how focused you look. overall he can be a jackass cause it’s eren but you two get along perfectly because like i said, music and art go hand in hand

armin

you guys just don’t understand how much i love this man OH MY GOD. he admires you and your artwork so so much he keeps complimenting you and you just look at him like ‘🥹’ ok idk if it’s just me but it’s always the art students or any kind of design student that has such good fashion and that’s what armin also loves so much about you. he loves all the different outfits you pull off he literally said “you are the definition of ‘wear the dress don’t let the dress wear you” like OMG???? KISS ME??? but this guy does not like it when you stay up late working on art projects and consuming a shit ton of caffeine. he forces you to go to bed and work on it the next day cause he cares about your health and you cannot stop him. He loves watching you work and if you needed anything while working he will get it for you. in general he’s such a cutie and a sweetheart and i love him sm and if anyone hurts him, it’s over for you

mikasa

i feel like she would be an art student too so she understands the work and stress that goes down in assignments and tests. occasionally you two would sit together and work on your assignments together but most of the time yall prefer doing it separately. it’s nothing personal but you two agreed that nothing would get done so it’s better to do your thing alone. mikasa honestly admires your creativity so much and is just so impressed by your talent. she’s just so proud of you she’ll be like “that’s my partner!!” but plzzz i beg you to compliment her art because it makes her so happy that you think she has potential when she really does :(( sometimes you sit at starbucks with her and go over some ideas and brainstorm together, showing rough ideas while drinking iced coffee

levi

he really loves the quietness in the room with some music playing through the speaker connected to your phone. it’s not anything loud or chaotic. mainly cigarettes after sex cause it’s giving levi so much. he tends to give some suggestions with your work on how it can be better and most of the time they’re actually helpful and you look at him with squinted eyes wondering if he’s secretly an art student. he likes you watch you work while he drinks his tea and you drink your iced coffee or redbull (i love redbull sm). at night however, oh god. you love art so much that you’re willing to stay up till 2 am drawing random things and it’s not even an assignment. this man is DRAGGING you to bed and your literally just fighting for your life to go back and finish that sketch but he makes you sleep and you get so pissed about it but fall asleep when your head hits the pillow😭

hange

they’re like armin but with some extra energy. they are genuinely so curious with what you work on and what kind of materials you use. if you’re working on a canvas they love seeing how well you use acrylic paints and mix them to make a new colour and they find it so aesthetically pleasing and they don’t know why. they just stare at you like a god/goddess with heart eyes. they love it so much they asked you to teach them basics. you of course said yes but poor hange just could not understand what was happening i feel so bad for them. you both came to the conclusion that hange was not made for art but they still admire it.

porco

this bastard literally teases you but you know he means well. he actually helps around a lot which shocks you. if you needed something, he will speed run to get whatever you need. let it be water, paint, tissue. whatever it is, he suddenly becomes a track star and gets what you need. even though he teases you, he loves what you do knowing damn well he can’t do it. he does tend to distract you though just so you can pay attention to him while you’re working and you just look at him like ‘boy wtf-’ but in the end, he’s so proud of you and he does love you. he just likes to make fun of you but dw he’s a sweetheart and doesn’t mean it. he just has ego issues PFFTT

live laugh love art😇‼️‼️

#mikasa x you #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #eren yeager x reader #mikasa x reader #hange zoe x reader #aot imagines #levi x reader #porco x reader #art #armin arlet x reader

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credince--writes · 2 years

Text

MacLovin'

Everyone needs a little MacLovin'.

AO3

Warnings:

Smut, roofies, Soap's hairy taint.

Soap had a problem with sex.

No one would ever call him out for it though.

It's not like drinking yourself under the table every night with a bottle.

But it was pressing up against a random woman in a supply closet.

The random, sloppy sex on top of a cot.

It filled a void.

A creature comfort.

The chase to ecstasy, and the inevitable letdown.

So he kept chasing that high whenever he could.

It filled the void, in a way,

...

The first time it happened, Jitters was bunking with Soap. He'd been shot, so he wouldn't be out in the field with Price & Gaz. Nut until his stitches were removed.

She'd been providing ground support to the group of them, checking cameras and providing assistance. But as the day dragged on, so did the mission. There were less and less cameras, they were moving further out into the wilderness.

That wasn't something she could help with.

So, after Price gave her the all-clear, she headed to the kitchen of the safe house, where she'd fix up something quick to eat before she passed out for the night.

"Jesus- Fuckin' Shit!" She heard Soap exclaim- loud enough for her to hear it in the kitchen followed by thumping sounds.

Hesitantly, she set her plate down and made her way to their room. Maybe he had fallen, and torn open his stitches. Preparing herself mentally to find a bleeding seething mess on the floor she carefully opened the door up.

Soap was hunched over the bed, the woman pinned down beneath him arms outstretched gripping onto the sheets below her.

The room reeked.

And she wondered how long the two of them had been going at it.

She faltered, locked in place oogling the Scott's hairy ass on display.

She promptly closed the door behind her.

She'd sleep on the couch.

...

Jitters had a hard time establishing a line of absolutes in her life. There simply was no such thing as complete certainty in her life.

But, if there were to be one thing.

It would be that Soap was absolutely plastered.

The kind of sloppy drunk that made your teeth hurt.

He had two women sitting with him, eating up their attention.

And he fed it to them, all to happy to oblige the attention that they were feeding him.

The team had stopped out at a bar post-mission, Pirce jokingly ordering Jitters a Shirley temple because 'children shouldn't drink'. The bar itself was sticky, and she- albeit silently- gratefully took the drink and nursed its sickly sweetness for the night.

It was common for Jitters to share a room with Soap.

Gaz would stay with Price, and Ghost would stay in his own room. That was if they were forced to bunk up together.

Expenditures, and whatnot she supposed.

"You think he'll bag em'?" Gaz jokes, poking Jitters in the side.

"God. I hope not." Jitters groans.

Price chuckles. "I think you've got the worst luck outta the lot."

She shoots him a glance. "Then I'll be knocking on your door when I find the room is being thoroughly fornicated when I try to lay my head to rest." She replies.

"Just keep those frozen feet the hell away from me." Gaz comments.

"I'm hurt, am I not a good cuddle buddy?" She jokes back to Gaz.

Price raises a brow, before adding. "It's a woman thing."

"Never knew you'd been graced by the touch of a woman before, Cap." Gaz replies.

"Must be all that spite runnin' through their veins." Price replies.

Jitters scoffs. "My feet aren't cold. You're just a bitch."

"How's that Shirley temple there, sweetheart?" Gaz replies, a shit-eating grin crawling up his face.

She raises a middle finger before taking another sip of the drink.

Gaz reached into his wallet, and pulled out the card to his hotel room, handing it over to her. "So you don't bang on the door and wake the bloody floor up."

"Mhmm. Thanks." She laughed lightly as she took the card.

Soap had begun to stumble off.

Maybe they'd be going to a room that wasn't hers.

She could really only hope in these situations.

She'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

She was standing at the edge of the bathroom counter brushing her teeth when the familiar sound of the hotel door clicking and opening was heard. Leaning down to spit into the sink, cleanup and finish she was greeted with the sound of stumbling footsteps.

She pushed open the bathroom door to find Soap laying on his back with a woman on top of him, shirt off and tossed to the side.

On her bed.

"John fucking MacTavish!" Jitters seethed. "That's my fucking bed!"

The woman turned, wide-eyed. Soap grabbed her by her chin and pulled her back down onto him. "Jus' my sister. She'll leave us be."

"MacTavish huh?" The woman asks, sliding down his chest.

"Oh baby, you can call me MacLovin'."

Jitters groaned, finding her shoes and slamming the door behind her.

Stomping through the hallway, she pulled the card Gaz had given her out of her pocket.

Pushing the card into the slot, and pushing the door open into the room. Suprisingly, the lights were still on and as she walked into the room she was greeted with the sight of Price and Gaz sitting in their beds, sitting up arguing about what to watch on the TV across the room.

They both made eye contact with Jitters, and she didn't bother to reply before kicking off her shoes and crawling onto Gaz's bed. Laying face down on top of the sheets.

"Again?" Gaz asked.

"Oh yea- MacLovin was getting it on." She groaned.

The two laughed in response, and went back to bickering about the shows on the 'telli'.

Gaz patted her on the back before pushing himself back up in bed. "Were the twins still there?"

"Fuck you, Gaz."

...

The mission had ended, and they ended up staying in a casino.

A fucking.

Casino.

Jitters was having a hayday.

Price had kept her glued to his side, she'd subtly take out one of her tablets and do some math. Maybe (illegally) do some back-end snooping on the software of the machines and lead the man to gambling victory.

Gaz had joined them, the three of them floated around the casino for hours. Gaz kept feeding Jitters drinks while she led them to machines that were more probable to win- to one's she thought were prettier.

"I like... I like that one." She stated. Looking at a tall machine with a little gold chair, and a big purple dragon floating on it.

"You're drunk." Gaz slurred.

She turned, poking him in the chest. "And you're...." Her eyes narrowed. Then her face went blank. "I forgot."

Gaz laughed before calling the Captain over.

The three then cashed out Price's winnings, Gaz and Jitters leaning on each other while they navigated through the labyrinth that was the floor. She honestly had forgotten what the name of the casino was, but her face was tingly, and every time she took a step she'd bump into Gaz.

"Dinners on me, kids." Price joked. He had been drinking just as much as them, if not more, and was not anywhere near the state of Gaz or Jitters. Jitters had drank nearly a half of what Gaz had drank, and was in the worst state of all three of them.

Ghost and Soap had parked themselves at the bar inside one of the restaurants in the Casino, drinking among themselves while Ghost kept an eye out for the other members of the team. He heard them before he saw them, Gaz and Jitters loudly rambling about something with Price leading them along.

Jitters walked, slightly stumbling up to the bar. Climbing into the chair next to Ghost and almost immediately thumping her head down on the bar.

Gaz and Price joined her, sitting at the bar. The bartender shot her a distasteful look, and walked up to Price to take drink orders.

"Let's get some chips first. And water over there." He said, throwing a thumb over to Jitters.

Jitters cheek rested against the bar, the sticky feeling of the dried drinks residue on the countertop would've made her skin crawl if she wasn't as inebriated as she was.

"You're lookin' like you're feeling right." Ghost mused.

"mHn." She lifted her head. "Mother goose I'd like to request fries." She grumbles.

"Mother goose. I would also, very much like them." Gaz agrees, turning to Price.

"Stop callin' me a blood fuckin' goose." Price grumbles. "I already ordered them."

"Yesssss."

"Price is the mother goose?" Soap asks, leaning forward.

"Yes MacLovin'." Jitters snorts.

"Sweet Jesus." Soap groans. "I said it. One time."

Jitters lowered her voice, trying to give her best drunken impression of Soap. "Nah, that's alright baby just call me MacLovin."

A glass of ice water was set in front of Jitter's face, followed by a basket of fries.

"Thank God." She groaned, grabbing the cup and then a fistful of fries, stuffing them into her mouth.

"God, you're drunk missy." Soap commented.

"Missy." Jitters sneers back at him.

"Hm." Ghost saws, swirling the liquid in his glass around.

"Fuck. I feel better." Jitters burps into her hand, giving a quiet 'excuse me', and pushing the basket of fries over the Gaz. "Thanks mommy." She says, glancing over at Price who just gives her a look of confusion and possibly disgust.

Soap nudged Ghost in the side, pointing over to a woman sitting across the bar.

"Whaddy'a think o' that?" He says, wiggling is eyebrows.

"Whatever you think, MacLovin." Ghost replied dully.

Soap groans, throwing his head back. "Not you too."

Price and Gaz got up to go play a game of pool, leaving the three at the bar to talk among themselves.

"Price won big." Jitters comments, shooting a pretty big smile over to the two of them.

"Imagine you helped." Ghost says.

"mmmmmmmhmmmmmm." She replies.

"How much?" Soap asked.

"Enough to owe me another basket of this." She grumbled. She caught attention of the bartender, asking for a soda and another basket of fries. "And can you please add it to his tab?" She asked, point at Price.

The bartender nodded, ringing up the order and grabbing her soda.

"Look at the arms on that woman." Soap comments, watching the bartender move.

She must've heard, because the bartender turned and smirked. "You like a strong woman?"

There he goes again.

Falling down the rabbit hole.

Ghost wasn't unfamiliar with Soap's woman issues, or habits, whatever Johnny would consider them.

One of the primary reasons he had insisted that Jitters be his new bunkmate when they had to pair up during these hotel spins was, well.

Ghost was a lady boner killer.

Not every day he could shmoze someone into there room- but in his room, there was a giant, masked, skull-faced brit sitting in bed watching romcom reruns.

They didn't often want to tag team.

He could just pull the sister card.

Or the cousin card.

Either one worked.

But that bartender? She was alluring. Those large arms- thick thighs.

She leaned over the counter, giving him a playful smirk. "I like your accent big boy, where's it from?"

His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head out of joy.

"I get off work in a hour." She whispered.

Even fucking better.

...

"What in your glass?" Jitters asked, speaking with her mouth full of fries.

"What do you think?" He responded.

"Something from the South. Where they get some hillbilly blind in one eye to manufacture something out of the entrails of roadkill with a hint of cinnamon." She responded, dipping some of the fries in ketchup before tossing them in her mouth.

"Entrials and cinnamon?" He echos, almost taken aback for a moment.

"Yea. Normal stuff like that." She shrugs. "Gimme a taste."

He sets the glass down, and pushes it over to her. Picking up the glass she hovers it under her nose taking a whiff before taking a sip.

He watched as her eye twitched, she set the glass down and pushed it back over to him.

It took her a moment to swallow as if she was fighting it down. Eye twitching again she let out a huff. "Jesus, am I a man now?" She muses.

"Little strong?"

"Feel like I have hair on my chest now, Spook."

"Spook?" He asked.

"You're a Ghost, your spook the shit outta everyone. You're a Spook."

"Why."

"You could be Mother Hen." She reasoned.

"You call Price that."

"No... I call Price Mother Goose, there's a difference."

"And what's that?"

"Geese are mean as shit." She explains simply.

Ghost lets out a huff, the closest she's ever gotten him to laugh, it's always just a huff of air. She wonders if he's even capable.

A new bartender sped over, dropping a drink off in front of Jitters. "From an admirer."

She eyed the drink, giving it a curious look.

"The hell is that." Ghost asks.

"Not sure Spook. One way to find out." She shrugs, picking the glass up and bringing it to her lips, taking a long sip.

"uhhh." She pauses for a moment, smacking her lips.

"Looks like a hangover in a glass." He adds.

"I think it's a Sex on the Beach." She drinks again.

The glass was pinkish red on the top, orange on the bottom, a little umbrella at the top with an orange-tipped onto the side.

"Shitty name, shitty drink." Ghost stated.

"Oh, don't be a pooper Spook." She joked, taking another drink. "You don't see this and imagine yourself on a beach in a little bikini?"

"No."

"Speedo?"

"No."

"Lame." She huffed. "You gonna pulla' Johnny and find someone to bang?"

"No."

"Ahh. I'm sure someone here would love to shag a brit. 'Specially a big and mysterious one like you."

"Why's that?"

"You got big hands." She comments matter-o-factly.

"What's that mean." He deadpans at her.

"You know what they say about big hands." She hums, laughing a little bit. She looks down at her drink and back at him, who still have no readable expression.

"I don't."

She snorts, drink almost shooting out of her nose. "Just forget I ever said anything, shit."

"Alright."

"You wanna go be a menace to society with me?" She turns, shooting him one of those looks. The kind of look that ends with him dragging her out of a public fountain, or a shrub, or a landscaping tree next to a busy intersection.

His eyes narrow for a moment. "Let's go gamble."

They finish their drinks, Ghost happily adding his tab to Prices before they left to go see what tricks Jitters had up her sleeve when it came to card games.

"I have no idea what's happening." She excitedly said, standing next to him as he sat at a poker table.

"Bit weird yer' friend der' got a mask on. Maken' me think he's a' cheating." A large, (very large), southern man drawled from next to her.

She laughed, patting him on the back.

"No he's just a severe burn survivor- you know. That happens when your fighting in the desert for freedom!" She give him a cheery look.

"Boy, you done fightin in the Afghanistan's?" He asks.

Jitters nods. "He did! War hero- purple heart."

"Well shit." The man chuckles. "Let me buy y'all a round of drinks."

....

The bartender dragged Soap into the back, behind the bar. Into a storage closet full of boxed goods he's sure were used in the restaurant.

Their lips connected, and her hands reached for the hem of his shirt.

"Right to business are we?" He asks, letting out a breathy chuckle.

"That an issue?" She sighs onto his lips, breaking away to pull his shirt over his head.

"Not with me love. Just don't know if you'll be able to handle all of this MacLovin'." He snickers, reaching his hands up to grope her tits while they locked lips again.

One of his hands slid down her pants, undoing her belt and shimmying them off of her hips. She let out a high-pitched whine, muffled into his lips as he lifted her onto a large chest freeze sitting in the back of the room.

"God, let me see that pretty cunt o' yours." He grumbles, dropping to his knees. Hooking a finger into the fabric of her panties crotch and pulling it to the side.

She groaned, hooking her calf around the back of his head, pulling her forward. Her other hand reached up into his hair, grabbing a fistful of his mohawk.

"Don't just see it. Taste it too."

"Happy to oblige."

...

"Walk fast." Jitters eyes were wide, striding past Ghost in one of the pathways between slot machines.

He didn't question it, turning to follow her and keeping up a striding pace pretty easy.

"Hey! Hey you- Stop!" A security guard tries to keep up with them, but with Jitters weaving in and around people, and Ghost naturally causing people to veer away from him, the two quickly navigated away.

"What'd you do?"

She pulled him off to the side, behind a wall to some kind of exit. "Technically? A felony. No problemo' tho. I got one of these." She held up a golden card, engraved with the casino's logo.

"And that would be..."

"It's a bottomless drinks card." She grins. One of those evil, youthful, get so drunk it fucking hurts grins.

"How'd you manage that?" He asked.

"Do you really wanna know, or do you wanna go get a drink."

The two, did indeed go get a drink. Many drinks, to be exact. The copious amounts of alcohol the two consumed was a monumental peak in Simon's life. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten this drink under good pretenses.

"It's free!" she whisper yelled to him.

"Have another one!" She whispers and laughs as she wiggles the card at him.

They were somewhere- apparently, the fucking place had an aquarium. Build into the hallway to the hotel.

"We should get to bed." He comments.

"God what are you my father?" She asked, sitting down on and ledge and staring at the aquarium across from her.

"Someone has to fuckin act like it." He grumbles, fidgeting with the hem of the mask rubbing against his neck

"You know." She slurs.

"Know what."

"You look like you could hold up a convenience store." She glances at him.

"Who's to say I hadn't?" He slightly slurs back.

"You're too much of a softie." She replies back. "Like a sponge."

"Sponge?" He echos.

"Yea. Fuckin' sponge. Or one of those explodey-fishes."

"The fuck are you goin' on about?"

"Uhhh. Puffy. Puffing? No. No. Pufferfish. You're a pufferfish." She agrees with herself.

"I am a man. Not a fish."

"Nah. You're a fish." She keeps going.

"I'd say you're somethin' like a dolphin but they rape baby seals to death."

"What?" He asks.

"Brutal bastards." She agrees.

"Hm."

"Betcha I could swim in there." She comments.

"I'd let the dolphin get ya'."

"Fuckin' brutal."

"Alright, Get up." He says, standing up.

"We going to beddie-bye?" She asks.

"You are, at least." He says, softly leading her towards the elevator with his arm.

"If there is a woman, that isn't me, in my bed. Or any bed, for that matter, when I get into that room. I'm gonna jump."

"Just go to my room."

"Don't know your number."

"546."

"I'm not going to rem. Rem." She pauses. "Gonna puke."

His eyes widen slightly, looking around.

No trash can- no bathroom.

There's a large planter, next to the start of the fish tank.

He all but picks her up, carrying her 6 large long steps to the panted to where she grabs the rim of the planter, and throws up- violently- into the planter.

"Smells like sex on the beach." She comments, rubbing her mouth.

"I've seen worse."

"Just doing my duty to fertilize the plants, Spook."

"You should take up gardening."

They made there way to the elevator, Ghost punching in the floor, slinging her arm around his shoulder while he dragged her to her room. Digging her card out of her pocket and scanning into the room. Pushing the door open and finding a silent, empty room. He dragged her into the bathroom, filling up a cup of water and forcing her to at least wash out her mouth before she went to sleep.

"You'd make a great dad." She comments, after spitting the water out into the sink.

"Why's that."

"You've even got the shitty jokes."

"Hm."

He leads her to the bed, removing her shoes and laying her down on the bed.

She was essentially already out cold. So he glanced around, trying to find a pen. When he did, he grabbed for it, lifting her deadweight arm and writing his room number and floor down on it.

And with that, he turned off the lights and left the room.

...

He pushed his tongue flat into one long singular lick up her pussy.

"God, you taste heavenly." He grumbled.

He can't remember how many times he had said that exact line.

He had her pants off, shirt pushed up enough to access her tits and one hand wrapped around her leg while the other massaged her ass.

She moaned in response, wiggling her hips and pulling on his hair.

He grunted in response to the hair pulling. Diving back down to lap up through her core and suck on her clit. As he did, his hand slid from her ass to around her entrance. He took his index finger, gathering the wetness that had already begun to leak from her. Sliding his large calloused finger around in it before pushing it into the wet heat of her pussy.

He continued to lick, to eat, and devour it. Her praises egged him on, keeping his cock in his pants at an uncomfortable stiffness.

Curling his finger up and feeling the familiar spongey material that always made the fireworks appear. Sliding his finger out, he replaced it with two, curling his fingers forward massaging the interior of her walls.

She gasped, making choking sounds and trying to stifle her moans as he continued to curl his fingers and suck.

"Fuckin' come for me." He mumbles into her pussy.

And she listened.

He always loved a good rule follower.

Meant less foreplay.

He lifted his head to meet her half-lidded gaze.

"My room?" He asked.

She nodded.

...

There was always that weird state where you were half awake and half asleep. Aware of your surroundings but it was as if you were surrounded with cotton.

There was an annoying, agitating slapping sound coming from the room.

Oh wait.

She was drunk still.

She grumbled, mouth feeling too dry, and half questioning where her shoes went.

She looked over the edge of the bed, seeing them neatly set next to the foot of her bed.

She lifted her head, only to be met with the sight of a stark naked MacTavish, plowing into the bartender from earlier.

The pair, equal in their nakedness, sweaty and huffing and touching all over.

One of his hands was straight forward, grasped onto a boob while the other arm held her legs up, knees almost touching her ears while the rest of his body rocked his cock in back and forth.

Holy fuck she was making eye contact with Soaps Balls.

"I'm coming." He grunts. "Fuck- Fuck, I'm coming. I'm coming!" He groans, throwing his head back.

"I'm fucking going! I'm going I'm going i'm going!" Jitters yell back. Soap doesn't even turn to give her a glance.

He keeps going, however.

Pulling her shoes on and looking back into the room, she's once again met with MacTavish's man ass, and a lovely shot of his taint as he begins for round two.

Slamming the door behind her, she curses as she looks around. The hallways of these casinos was nothing short of a purgatory. She patted her pocket, feeling for the shiny little gold card that could make the sigh of Johnny's taint fade from her memory.

Like a hound, she sniffed her way down to the lobby, through the maze of machines and to a bar. She tapped the card on the counter, waiting for the bartender to swing by and pick up her order.

"Hey there." The smooth sound of a mans voice chimes in from her left, she shoots him a glance.

"What?" She asks.

"Well. That's not very nice." He frowns. "How about we start over, I buy you a drink?"

"I can buy my own drinks, thanks though. But not really thanks, you've done nothing to warrant my gratitude." She replies.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket- she rarely used the damn thing. It was a little comedic. It's was one of the newer phones- the one Ghost gave her after the water fountain incident so he could 'keep track' of her when they went out in public.

She didn't know what was worse, the fact he insisted on the tracker, put parental controls on the app store, or the fact she was fine with him knowing where she was.

It was like an ankle monitor, but it could FaceTime.

She opened her texts, exiting out of her text with Gaz, and tapping on 'Spook'.

I saw Soap's Taint. Drinking away the pain.

The read notification popped up under the message. The typing animation appears and drops away right after. She was blatantly trying to ignore the man next to her.

He shrugs, orders his drink and she orders hers.

"So how's a pretty girl like you sitting alone at a bar?"

"I'm schizophrenic, actually, I have three friends sitting to my left. You just can't see them." She adds.

"God, you have quite the mouth on you, don't ya?" He asked.

"Comes with the liquor." She replies.

He laughs.

"My names Merrick."

"Jay." She replied.

"Like the bird?" He asked.

"No. The letter of the alphabet."

He laughs again. "You're funny. I like you."

"No offense dude, but you look, like, 35." She replies dryly.

"Then what about my friend over there, hm?" He says.

She turns her body to look across the room.

"Where?" She asks.

He looks at her, humming slightly. "He must've bailed. He was kind of the loner type. Odd duck."

She huffs, turning back around and grabbing her drink. "You aren't gonna leave me be, are ya?"

He grins, a glint in his eyes as he takes a sip. "And give up a night with a pretty woman like you? Never."

Ghost sat in his room, the TV playing some random RomCom he would never admit he intentionally put on playing in the background.

His phone vibrated from a notification, glancing over at it and seeing it was from Jitters. He opened it, read it, and set his phone back down.

Been there, done that.

Maybe twenty minutes later, two more buzzes sounded in from his phone.

A photo of feet- not hers, next to her on a bar stool. Followed by a message.

'Weird'

He stared at the phone, trying to decipher what the message meant.

Was it drunk commentating, or her asking for help. He debated in his mind for a moment. Had it been drunk commentating, he'd be dealing with more vomit if he went down to check on her.

But she never texted single lines.

She said she wouldn't bother, he's to 'old' to understand it, so she'd always text in completed sentences.

He grumbled, standing up and finding the simple black mask he'd been wearing for the entire outing, pulling it back over his face and making his way to the door.

It's better to be safe, than sorry he'd suppose.

The RomCom wasn't going anywhere anyways.

...

She sat after sending the message.

She knew- or at least hoped it would be a red flag.

There was something off.

Really off.

The man was suppressing some kind of accent, she'd be able to recognize it. She was all too familiar with people faking American accents, but this had been practiced. Or maybe, she was simply overthinking it.

Maybe.

She slipped her phone into her pants pocket, looking up at him. He'd turned to his drink, taking a sip of it.

"Have you ever traveled abroad, Jay?" He asked.

"No. Not really." She responded. Finishing off her drink, she set the glass down and gave him a look. "You're pretty persistent. You know? Gotta give you props for that man."

He gave her a smile.

"You travel a lot?" She asked.

"Yes and no. I do fly out to work though, but nothing beats working from home."

She nodded. "Feel that."

The urge to pee become top priority in her mind, standing up. "Alright, gotta go." She said, not waiting for a response.

Speedwalking to the bathroom to do her business, she was hit with a wave of drunk. The kind that made her feel she could read fluent Mandarin. When she knew nothing about mandarin.

Drink's must've been strong.

She left the bathroom, becoming all to aware of her stumbling.

The confusion was more debilitating than anything, the feeling of her body shutting down. Eyes blurring.

An arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up. She lulled her head to the side, giving him a confused glance.

"Oh it's alright sweetheart. Had one two many?" Marrick asked.

"nhn, hn no.." She mumbled.

He laughed lightly, leading her out of the bar and down the hallways.

Jitters could feel her heartbeat in her ears, the lights from the slot machines, and all of the noise.

It was overwhelming.

She heard the ding of an elevator.

The sound of a door being unlocked.

Scuffing of shoes.

The feeling of a bed under her.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Merrick faltered for a moment, pushing his suit jacket back to pull a pistol from his side. Walking up to the door and seeing no one through the peephole. Opening the door, he peeked his head out to look.

The door was forced open, Ghost forcing his way through the door, grabbing Merricks gun, and punching him in the face. Merrick fell to the ground, and Ghost got on top of him, throwing four punches into his face. A sickening cracking sound was followed by a wheeze.

Ghost lifted the gun Merrick had been holding previously. "You have five seconds to tell me who you are."

"Fuck you."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Fuck! Fuck- wait!" The man yelled. "Pocket." He wheezed out. The blood from his broken nose bubbled out with his struggling breathing.

Ghost reached down, pulling out a burner phone.

His eyes locked with the screen, then to the man.

Ghost stood, a deadly silence filling the room.

"Please." The man said, shuffling could be heard.

Ghost grabbed the man's head, before slamming it down on the granite corner of the sink in the hallway.

There was a disgusting, wet cracking sound before the sound of a crumbling body could be heard.

"Jitters." Ghost said, running over, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Njm" She mumbled back.

He cursed, picking her up and dragging her into the bathroom rolling the two of the on the the floor of the cold tile in front of the toilet.

He held her head in his hands, forcing her mouth open with on hand while he spoke softly in the other.

"You need to vomit."

"...no... mmhm." She replied, trying to fight him off.

"Fuckin' Vomit you stubborn brat." He hisses. She was drugged- that much was evident.

She tried to bite down on his hand, but even the movements of her jaw were sluggish.

"Sorry 'bout this." He grumbles, taking his free hand and sticking his finger into the back of her throat.

She gagged, her whole body tensing, but not throwing up.

"You had no problem vomiting earlier, so why now?" He complains loudly.

She was shaking, trying to push his hands off of her.

His gaze softened.

"Hey... Come on now." He said. "It'll make you feel better alright? I'll be nicer I promise."

She choked a little when he tried again, but she did puke.

He held her hair back as she vomited into the toilet bowl, tears pricking her eyes as she did so.

"Come on- you did a good job." He praised her, picking her up as he stood. He looked out into the room, corpse of the man on the floor. He pulled out his phone, dialing Price.

"The bloody fuck- it's three in the morning!" He hissed.

"We have a problem."

Price was quiet for a moment. "What kind of problem?"

Ghost looks at the burner phone, a photo of Jitters on the screen followed by the text that said.

'Alive'

"The Russian kind."

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