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#so he had to get a temporary new shirt
reanimatedgh0ul · 1 month
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anyways here are 2 characters from other craig mccracken cartoons that to me fit the vibe i'm going for w danny in my dp x ppg crossover
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shiny-jr · 7 months
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outlander
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia. 
Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?
Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.
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This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.
Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.
In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:
How did you get here?
GRIM
There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.
It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.
The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.
And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.
That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.
All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.
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HEARTSLABYUL
Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.
It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.
A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.
Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.
Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.
Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.
You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.
Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.
There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?
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SAVANACLAW
Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.
Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.
A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.
In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.
Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.
Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.
You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.
This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.
Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?
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OCTAVINELLE
In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.
A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.
A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.
Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.
Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.
In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.
In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.
He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.
Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.
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SCARABIA
Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.
Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.
A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.
Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.
Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.
Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.
Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.
Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.
Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?
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POMEFIORE
On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.
The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.
A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.
Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.
Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.
Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.
Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.
He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.
When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?
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IGNIHYDE
A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.
In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.
A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.
Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.
Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.
On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.
You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.
It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.
Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?
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DIASOMNIA
A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.
Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.
A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.
Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.
Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.
A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.
Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."
This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.
This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.
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aweina · 6 months
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୨୧. honest eyes — mortal kombat one. kameos : raiden. johnny cage + kenshi takahashi & liu kang
when you stare at their hands for too long.
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raiden was confused at first. he was not dreaming, right? he knew his small crush on you could make him overthink certain interactions, but the more he quietly observed you, he realized that your mindless staring was in fact, reality. coming into terms with this realization was hard for raiden, dissecting every possible outcome as to why your unreadable gaze seemed so glued to him. ignoring this dilemma sounds more unnerving, offering him temporary peace, and so he did. but only then the limelight that you unintentionally showered over him the past few days left him flustered and somewhat clumsy. it only began to worsen when he caught your intense gaze on his quivering hands, the warm tea swishing around the small ceramic cup. silence fell between the two of you, with raiden watching your eyes drag over the fine details of his hands — rough from working in the fields yet gentle with anything he touched. “what’s so particular about my hands that you seem to like so much?” it took a bit of courage to ask, but he was pleased to see you gaze away nervously, sputter something incoherent, just like he would with you. maybe his crush wasn’t actually one-sided all along.
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johnny never seemed to notice your blatant staring, or so you thought. under the foggy lenses and his humorous exterior, his was incredibly sharp when it came to observing his surroundings — particularly you drooling over the sight of his hands. after making such a huge discovery, he has been absolutely insufferable and loud. the flirty little comments you’ve received became much bolder, he was more expressive with his hands — pointing things directly by your face and “casually” articulating them around every time he talked. he would even exaggeratedly stretch out his limbs as his ring gleaming under a nonexistent light — the wolf whistle was the cherry on top. despite all his teasing gestures, you still gazed hungrily over the callouses and subtle veins that swelled over his skin. with his strong fingers dancing along your knee, you try to keep his movement still, tracing over his hands carefully once he complied. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he snickers at his own joke, but this was his idea after all. next time, he’ll make sure to get a few angles saved in his camera roll.
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kenshi has always been particularly tense when it came to unwanted attention. that’s why he instantly felt your lingering gaze — like he had a sixth sense. but confusion dawned upon him. what were you staring at? he learned to be cautious about his appearance, hiding his troubling past under long sleeve shirts and keeping a calm demeanor to not scare off others. yet you constantly assured him that his former affiliation with the yakuza didn’t bother you. it’s when he’s eating idly in the dinning hall of the academy, kenshi felt your unwavering eyes on him again. this time he followed the tilt of your head, noticing a blush on your blank features, and finally stopping at his rough tattooed hands. he’s heard of this before, a hand fetish? kenshi smirks knowingly, placing his utensils on the table as he raises a hand over your hard gaze. “if you wanted to look, you should’ve just asked.” he teases with a smile, lowering his hand to let let your fingertips ghost over his inked skin — something that he would never let anyone else do.
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liu kang did not need his divine intuition to notice your unwavering eyes — it was quite obvious and rather amusing. when he crafted this new timeline, he never suspected that you would ever see him in a certain light. although he usually wears hand wraps on a daily basis, there are rare occasions when he would rather continue his routine without a tight fit pressing fine lines onto his skin. with your curious presence sifting through the halls of the fire temple, liu kang feels it’s only natural to shred off the one thing that taunts your prying gaze. your subtle reactions to his rare exposure never failed to make him smile. now, you sit alongside the fire god in a daze — mesmerized by the veins and small cuts that decorated his hands. liu kang gently held your smaller hand, applying a soothing balm over your healing cut. his glowing eyes flicker to your lingering stare, openly gawking at his hands and periodically, dragging along his inked muscles. that’s when he suddenly broke out laughing, breaking you out of a trance. “your gaze never seems to falter, huh?” he keeps a firm grip on your hand when you try to flee away, basking in your flustered eyes.
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© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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cevansbrat0007 · 15 days
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There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?
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What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?
Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.
Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief. 
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later. 
It was officially time for a reread. 
Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.
Eventually.   
Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie 
So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers. 
Fingers crossed.
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Later that Evening…
The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts. 
“Bird?” 
The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter. 
His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels. 
“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.
“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin. 
Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more. 
“Oh baby, I love.” 
Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this. 
You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.    
“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”
“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”
“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt. 
“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.
The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall. 
However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.
“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp. 
“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.
“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner. 
‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’ 
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Fifteen Minutes Later…
You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.
“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”
Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal. 
Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.       
This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.
Or so you assumed, anyway.
“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”
“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate. 
“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.      
“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.
Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…
You wait. 
It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.
“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.  
“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.
“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”
“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.
“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin. 
“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.  
“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”
You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.  
“Thank you, Ari.” 
“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. ���I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.” 
And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was. 
“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”
Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.  
“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”
“Why?” 
Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you
“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”
“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”
Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.  
“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down. 
But your man’s not done yet. 
You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.
Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more. 
“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.” 
Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words. 
“Ari, wait.” 
“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”
“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs  now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”
“Great. So how about you –”
“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”
Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said. 
“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.
“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”
“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?” 
“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”
“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”
“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”
“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”
“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.” 
You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act. 
“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”
“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”
“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves. 
“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.
“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw. 
“I suppose that’s fair.” 
“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.
“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns. 
“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.
Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking. 
“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”
“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.” 
Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?
“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”
“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily. 
“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”
END
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fictionismyreality3 · 1 month
Text
Learned your lesson? (18+)
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Simon Riley x Reader
Tags: Smut, daddy!simon, angry!simon
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, thigh riding, daddy kink, face slapping, slight impact play, spanking, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, exhibitionism if you squint
Notes: absolute dEBaUchErY 🤪 but I have no regrets 🤭 gimme a chance and I’d let Simon ruin my-
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In hindsight, the situation you were in was probably your fault.
You hadn’t meant to make Simon angry, and he wasn’t really, but you were being a brat. In your defence, having him away from you all the time got a little lonely, and you could only fuck yourself with the dildo he got you so many times before you started wanting the real thing.
That’s why you had blown up his phone all day, sending him video after video of you fucking yourself in every room of your apartment, moaning his name as you came. In the back of your mind, you knew it was a bad idea, but it felt so deliciously good to imagine his eyes widening as he stood on base and got all your little gifts, especially when you were riding the dildo with his t-shirt on.
Your hands gripped the black marble countertop of your shared bathroom as you bounced your ass back against the wall, the hyper-realistic dildo hitting you just right. When Simon showed up with a clone-a-willy kit in hand before a long deployment, you nearly spat out the soda you were drinking.
“What the fuck is that?” You managed to sputter as you coughed, trying not to spit soda all over the living room carpet.
“Your stress reliever, luv’.” Simon’s eyes sparked behind his balaclava as he chuckled with mirth.
The rest of that night consisted of you whispering in his ear and tracing his neck with your tongue, keeping him hard as you carried out your diy sex toy production.
And now, as you fucked yourself on your clone of Simon’s cock, your phone propped up to record, the dildo did its job, but it wasn’t Simon.
It wasn’t him.
That’s why you made sure to look directly into the camera as you felt the familiar sparks building up in your core, and when you came, you let him know how much you missed him.
What you couldn’t have known, was that the wifi on base was horrendous. You’d think with the budget going towards the military, they could at least invest in a new router, but no. Simon often had to struggle through paperwork, which he already detested, waiting for the tiniest files to load. In your eagerness to tease him, you sent all the videos at once, but couldn’t have known that they’d take ages to get delivered.
By the time they reached their destination, blowing up Simon’s phone all at once, it was hours after you’d initially hit send. It was nearly impossible for him to be away from you as it is. As soon as he saw your face the day you met, he knew that he’d be needing you for the rest of his life.
He didn’t like leaving you and he didn’t like sharing.
Two weeks away from the only reminder of having a normal life was already painstaking. It was the last day on base and Simon was counting down the minutes till he could get home and show you how much he missed you. The time spent rubbing himself in the barracks bathroom, jerking his cock to the thought of you, all it had done was provide temporary relief. He needed the real thing.
He needed to be buried so deep in your tight little cunt that he made himself a part of you with each thrust.
Simon was counting down the minutes as he sat through the last briefing of the day, just a few hours away from getting to let out all his pent up tension, when his phone began to buzz endlessly. His heart spiked, threatening to burst from his throat as he saw the texts from you. Instantly, the worst case scenarios of what could’ve happened ran through his mind. He wasn’t a paranoid man by any means, but when it came to you, the only thing that mattered more that keeping you happy was your safety.
What if something happened? What if you were hurt? What if you’d been taken hostage and someone was sending him videos of you being tortured?
Okay, so, maybe a little paranoid.
Not wanting to wait in agonizing curiosity, he clicked open the attachment.
Within seconds, sounds of your wanton moaning filled the room, your breathy whimpers of his name silencing the rest of the 141 who had been debriefing. All eyes snapped to Simon as he fumbled with his phone, dropping it to the floor in his haste to mute the video. This interrupted Soap’s guffawing, as his eyes locked on the screen, the video of you riding the dildo he got you playing on repeat.
“Jesus Christ, Lt! Tha’ yer woman? She’s a sight to-” Gaz smacked him upside the head as Price tried to avert his eyes, clearing his throat.
“Watch your fuckin’ eyes, Johnny, before I rip ‘em outta your skull.” Simon snapped.
Finally, he managed to switch the video off, but the damage was done. Even though he sat as still as a statue for the rest of the brief, his balaclava hidden face betraying no emotion despite Soap’s repeatedly cheeky comments, Simon was livid.
From the time he first took you, he ruined you for anyone else. Nobody could replace him, nobody could break you or make you scream like he did. But you’d ruined everything else for him too. And just the thought of someone else getting to have you, getting to touch even an inch of your skin, was enough that he had to ball his fists so as not to throttle Johnny’s neck.
He trusted his guys with his life, even if he’d never tell them that. But this was different.
This was you.
While you giggling conspiratorially to yourself, thinking about the fun you’d have with him when he got home, Simon was whiteknuckling the wheel of his truck, trying not to break the speed limit to get home to you faster. His cock was achingly hard as he ran over how he planned to punish you again and again in his mind. You’d love every second of it, he always made sure you did, but he wanted to tease you just like you did him.
This is what he loved about you. How you were so eager to please, but so eager to rile him up, it was the perfect combination to make Simon’s cock scream at him to fuck your pretty throat.
He nearly ran a stop sign imaging cumming in your greedy mouth.
His dirty girl.
His greedy girl. He definitely couldn’t give you the usual treatment this time. The thought of your ass marked up with his handprints after a spanking was tempting, but you would enjoy it far too much. He wanted to see you struggle to get even the slightest bit of relief after the stunt you pulled.
The rumbling of his truck signalled his arrival to your keen ears, and you jumped up from the couch, running to the front door of the cozy house you’d bought together to stand on the porch waiting for him.
Simon got out of his truck. He knew you were standing there, where you always were to welcome him home after a deployment, but he didn’t look at you. Getting his gear bag from the back, he slung it over his shoulders and trudged up the front stairs. His kit was well over 100 pounds, but he still managed to carry it with one hand. The other hand shot out to wrap around your throat, causing you to stumble on your feet.
“Simo-” Your greeting was cut of by your now restricted air supply, and your hands instinctively clawed at his grip on your throat. He didn’t utter a word, only reached around you to open the door, pushing you inside as he followed, closing it with his foot.
You were pinned up against the wall as soon as his gear bag had hit the ground, and you could already hear his ragged breaths.
“D’you have any idea,” He huffed, trying to restrain himself from just fucking you against the wall. “how much shit you’re in for… love?” He ground out the pet name like it took effort for him to keep from swearing even more.
You quickly ran through everything that you could have done wrong in your mind. Sure, you’d been a brat all day, but Simon liked when you were bratty from time to time. Nothing you could think of could explain the tightly contained anger that was rippling off of him.
“What? Did you not like the videos?” You managed to say breathily, the grip on your throat keeping you perched on the edge of loosing your breath. “Did I not like the-” Simon stopped to let out a low, raspy chuckle, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.
“I loved the videos, sweetheart. An’ so did the boys.” He whispered slowly into your ear.
Immediately your face scrunched up as you tried to decipher what he meant.
“What do you mean, Si? I only….oh.” The reality of your mistake hit you all at once.
Oh.
How could you have forgotten that Simon would probably be around the rest of the 141, not to mention how inept with technology he was. No wonder the rest of the team saw you. Your swirling thoughts were broken up by Simon releasing your throat, only to grab your arm, and roughly drag you over to the couch.
“‘Oh’ is right, luv’.” He murmured as he sat down, pulling you on top of his lap to straddle him. Your hands instinctively went for his balaclava, wanting to take it off and see his face, a permission only you were granted.
Before your fingers could even meet the fabric, Simon was grabbing both your wrists with one hand, pinning them to your lap. You really had poked the bear in all senses of the word. Simon was utterly massive, and he could easily palm any part of you that would take most people two hands to hold.
With his free hand, he pushed his balaclava up so it rested just underneath his nose, his lips free to kiss you. Your stomach was churning with a mix of apprehension and excitement. You knew the look in his eyes, the look he only got when he was going to break you. It was nearly impossible to keep from leaning down and pressing a kiss to his inviting lips, but you knew that you were already in as much trouble as it was.
With the way you were straddling his lap, the thin material of your shorts allowed you to feel his cock growing ridged underneath you. Heat bloomed in your core and Simon’s grip on your wrists suddenly felt electric.
“You’re a greedy cockslut, aren’t you?” He slipped the hand which wasn’t keeping your wrists trapped underneath your shirt. “So desperate you jus’ had to be a brat, hm? Had to let everyone see wha’ a needy girl you are.”
The low, condescending tone of his voice made your head swim, and your breaths began to come faster and faster as he palmed your tits, beginning to play with your nipples. You couldn’t exactly be sorry when he was making you feel so good, but there was still some guilt in the back of your mind for putting him on the spot.
“Simon, I’m-” Simon’s large hand slapped you lightly across the cheek, tugging your hair to refocus your gaze on him. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” He pinched your nipple hard, causing you to reel forwards into his chest.
“What’s my fuckin’ name, huh? Only good girls get t’call me Simon.” He dug his fingers into the skin of your wrists, the pain warning you of what would come if you weren’t more obedient.
“…daddy?” You tried quietly.
Simon’s grip on your wrists lessened instantly, and his hands began to tease at your tits again. The whiplash of pain to pleasure was something that he had perfected, and he loved the way you’d bite your lip as you struggled to catch up. All it took was just getting you to call him daddy and he could already feel you melting in his lap, your eyes getting half lidded and foggy.
“That’s right, bunny. And daddy teaches his baby how to behave doesn’t he?” Simon said expectantly, beginning to peel off his t-shirt you were wearing.
“Y-yes, daddy.” The cold air hit your skin, sending a shiver through body as you were left in just your thin pajama shorts, straddling your hulk of a boyfriend. Without the t-shirt in the way, Simon had easy access to your gorgeous tits, and took the opportunity to take a nipple in between his teeth, his other hand running up and down your back.
He was rock hard by now, the feeling of your soft skin on top of him sending his mind into a buzzing haze of desire. All he wanted to do was rut up into that precious pussy of yours and make you cum around his cock. But he had to be patient. He had to make sure you knew what you did wrong.
As soon as he felt you begin to rock your hips, a movement so imperceptible that only those who knew you would realize what you want, he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Simon’s eyes were narrowed in warning, and a dark chuckled left his throat.
“You’re so greedy.” He growled, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Show daddy you’re more than jus’ a needy little girl.”
“How, daddy?” You breathed.
A whine fell from your lips as you slipped further away from being rational, your head fuzzy with want as you felt Simon’s cock pressed underneath you.
“Can’t get off without my cock, hm?” He thought back to the videos of you fucking yourself on the dildo he got you. Simon loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to move, only to shifted you so that he could tear your pajama shorts off. He lifted you slightly so that you were straddling one of his thighs instead.
“You wanna cum s’badly? You need it s’much that you’re a brat?”
“Fuck yourself on my thigh then, luvie.”
Your breath left you in one big whoosh, and the moment Simon gave you permission to move, you were grinding down on his thigh. The fabric of his jeans rubbed against your clit, sending little jolts of pleasure through you.
Simon watched as your eyes got droopy, half opened through your haze of pleasure. He was still angry but right now all he could focus on was how pretty you looked. Your cheeks all flushed from his words and the exertion of grinding on him, your little hands holding onto his shoulders, and the wet spot on your panties.
“That’s it, pretty. Jus’ like that.” He groaned.
His cock felt impossibly hard, raging with need every time he looked at the way your tits bounced. Fumbling with his belt, he pulled his cock out. The noise caught your attention, and you faltered, going to reach for him. You didn’t get very far, because as soon as Simon felt you stop moving, he delivered two quick spanks to your ass.
You cried out in surprise and pain as he fisted one hand in your hair, and the other around his leaking cock. His hands were so big it made him look normal sized, but you knew he was easily almost ten inches.
“Such a whore.” He whispered, pulling your hair so your head was forced back. “Jus’ had t’get my cock in your mouth.”
Simon stroked himself lazily, savouring the wave of heat which coursed through him every time he ran a thumb over his tip. It wasn’t your touch, but it would do for now. Your gaze was forced to the ceiling as Simon kept you locked in position, observing you like his own personal work of art. The sound of his quiet groans filling your ears was torturous knowing you weren’t allowed to touch him. You could feel yourself leaking into his jeans, and knew he no doubt felt it too.
“Are you- oh, gonna be a good girl f’me?” His mouth latched on your exposed neck as he sucked a hickey into your skin, marking you as his. You were panting, practically trembling as he forced you to keep still. Simon was closer than he’d like to admit. It had been weeks since he’d touched you and just seeing you writhing on lap, trying to get whatever friction you could, made his cock leak.
“Say it, bunny.” He rasped into your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“I’ve learned my lesson, daddy. Please, can I…” You trailed off, afraid that if you asked for his cock you’d seem ever more needy.
But Simon was thrilled.
Having the love of his life, almost naked on his lap, desperate to touch him was like a dream. The hand in your hair pushed your head down, his palm big enough to cover the back of your head.
“Suck.” He growled.
Rubbing the head of his cock along your mouth, demanding entrance, you parted your lips. Simon pushed inside of your mouth, heavy on your tongue as he let out a long, drawn out groan you wished you could have on repeat.
“Shit, sweathear’- oh, fuck..” He hissed. You could feel him twitching in your mouth.
He tried to focus on anything but the warm, wet-
Oh, god.
Simon bucked his hips up and began to fuck into you without warning, sending your hands shooting out to his stomach to catch yourself. His cock hit the roof of your mouth and your throat tightened on reflex as you tried not to gag. You could feel Simon’s nails digging into your scalp as he bobbed your head up and down.
“Sorry, luv’ I jus’,” He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips around him. “Been achin’ for you, bunny. All those videos y’sent me.” He moaned, no longer able to keep himself from being gentle.
“Let daddy cum in y’mouth, sweetheart.”
The words flooded your pussy with heat, and Simon took notice of the way you moaned around his cock. He was strict, but he wasn’t cruel, and you had been good so far. Taking a little pity on you, Simon used his free hand to grab your hip, bouncing his leg so you could get a little relief. The sudden stimulation sent your dripping cunt into overdrive, and as Simon rammed his cock into your throat, you began to rut against his thigh.
He would’ve told you to keep your eyes on him, but they looked so pretty rolling back into your head.
“Yeah, yeah jus’ like that.” He said, his voice raspy as he tried to hold himself back. “Be good for daddy. Get close, luv’.”
You didn’t have to try with the way your cunt was clenching around nothing. Every bounce of his leg rubbed your clit against his jeans, and he pushed you further by holding your hip to help you grind against him. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, and Simon knew it too with the way you were moaning around his cock. Every noise you made sent a vibration through him, and he began to fuck your mouth with abandon, his balls tightening in anticipation.
“Oh, god. Oh f-fuck, bunny keep-” He spasmed in your mouth. “Keep suckin’ just like tha’. Daddy’s gonna cum in your pretty lil’ mouth.”
His words made your head spin. The only thought on your mind was drawing as much pleasure from him as you could, so you took his balls in your hand, rolling them a few times to push him over the edge. Your core was fluttering with need as you rutted against Simon’s leg, which he kept bouncing, hitting your swollen clit mercilessly. It was too much for both of you after weeks without each other.
Simon’s hand left your hip so he could tangle both hands in your hair, the need for his own pleasure taking over. You managed to glance up, wanting to see his face as he came.
“Luvie.. luvie, oh sweatheart.” His mouth hung open as he let out a noise he didn’t know he could make. The sight of you grinding desperately against his thigh tipped him over the edge.
“Oh, fuck. Bun-”
Ropes of hot, thick cum shot down your throat, filling your mouth and spilling past your lips. The taste of Simon on your tounge was enough to break you. Your mind shattered as you began rutting on his thigh, not caring how needy you looked, the heat in your pussy sent you spiralling. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you gushed all over Simon’s leg as he pressed himself so deep into your mouth that your nose hit his stomach.
He sent the last of his load down your throat and pulled your head up as you gasped for air. The world was fuzzy, but you felt two big, strong arms pulling you up from where you’d collapsed forward onto Simon’s stomach.
Taking you into his lap, he ran a hand through your hair as he rubbed your back in slow, comforting circles. His cock lay resting against his stomach, big even when it was getting soft. Simon’s hand found your chin and he turned your gaze to his, helping you come back to reality by taking off his balaclava to let you see his face.
“Did so good f’me, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, making you giggle.
“Thank you, daddy.” You managed to say, your eyes getting droopy as sleepiness began to creep in.
“I think you learned your lesson, sweetheart.” He mused, noticing your breaths begin to slow. “Jus’ rest here, luv’.”
“Daddy’s got you.”
Simon watched with reverence as your head rested against his shoulder, your flushed cheeks making you look even cuter than you did choking on his cock. This was good. This was right. He’d take care of you forever, he knew it from the moment he saw you. You didn’t realize yet, but you had one hell of a guardian angel on your side.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months
Text
enter sandman - m. murdock
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a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"
You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.
You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.
But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.
And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.
Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.
And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.
“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”
But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.
“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”
“Not to?”
“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”
Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.
“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.
“Nothing!”
He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.
“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”
Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.
“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”
He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.
“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”
“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.
“Shut up.”
He hears no objections.
Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.
“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”
“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.
“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.
“Know what?”
“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”
What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.
“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.
“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.
“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”
He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off.  Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.
“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.
“I know you do. You know how?”
You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.
“You can hear my heartbeat?”
“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.
You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.
“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”
He kisses the spot where he bit softly.
“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.
“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.
“What?”
“Why’d you stop?” You whined.
“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.
“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.
“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”
You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.
“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”
“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.
He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.
“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.
“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”
You’re almost embarrassed of it now.
“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.
“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.
“Never.” You echo.
“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”
You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.
“I just want you to fuck me!”
He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.
“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.
“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.
“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.
He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.
“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.
“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”
You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.
“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.
“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”
“That I was in no position to make demands?”
“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”
You must admit, you’re very curious.
“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.
“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.
Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”
“I liked that plan so much though..”
“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.
“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.
“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.
“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”
“You, devil.”
“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”
He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.
Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.
You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.
“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”
“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.
“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”
“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”
Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.
“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.
“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”
As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.
“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.
He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.
He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.
He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.
“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.
“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.
“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.
His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.
“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.
His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.
“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”
“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.
“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.
You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.
“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.
“Green,” You promise.
“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.
“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.
“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.
“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.
“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”
Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.
“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.
“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”
And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.
You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.
His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,
“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.
“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.
He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.
“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.
“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”
He grins and kisses your forehead.
“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.
“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.
“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.
“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”
Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.
You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.
615 notes · View notes
silvergyus · 3 months
Note
can't stop thinking about a 69 with soobin pleaseee
mirrored ceiling
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pairing: soobin x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend gets a reflective film put up over the skylight in his room. a handful of flirty texts later, and you're riding his face
warnings: oral (y/n & sb receiving), 69, reader sits on soobin's face, reader gags on soobin's dick once, a little bit of cum eating, hickeys (y/n receiving), flirty texts in the workplace, use of “baby” for soobin, use of "baby/ good girl" for y/n
word count: 3,400+
author's note: thank you so much ☁️ anon for the request!! this was the most difficult fic I've ever written lol. huge thank u to @nightlyawnzz and @https-yeonjun for being beta readers &lt;3
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
The reflective film was new.
Soobin said the company had put it up to help keep the heating bill down since it had been abnormally cold this winter. You had no doubt it also acted as a temporary security bonus, keeping any potential peeping toms from seeing down the skylight. Either way, the silvery film was thin enough to let light in during the day, and, as you'd come to find out, shiny enough to reflect as a near-perfect mirror when the bedroom lights were on at night.
This was going to be fun.
You couldn't spend every night with Soobin, unfortunately. Work had asked you to come in early to set up before a big client came in, so you were forced to sleep in your own bed for once. You sighed, missing your space heater of a boyfriend. Normally you'd be resting your head on his chest so his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat could lull you to sleep.
You rolled over again and again, trying to get comfortable without the familiar shape of Soobin laying beside you. Defeated, you stared up at the ceiling through the darkness. From the bedside table, you heard the staccato buzzing of your phone.
Thankful for a distraction, you eagerly grabbed the glowing screen.
New message: 🩷 Soobie 🩷
You tapped the notification, opening your messaging app to two messages.
Miss you
[picture]
A strangled noise escaped your phone as you stared at the flirty image your boyfriend had sent. The photo was him, reflected in the new silver coating, arm out to your side of the bed.
Not fair, you texted back, wanna be snuggled right there 😓 You were tired and you missed sleeping beside him.
Come over
You know I can't tonight baby :(, you typed back. I'll see you tomorrow
:(
I can't wait
goodnite baby
sleep good
You smiled at his messages. I will🩷
can't wait to see u
You fell asleep, tiredness finally overtaking you, putting a pause on your thoughts of Soobin's new mirrored ceiling.
----
All through the next day at work you were a wreck. Halfway through your morning your phone buzzed with Soobin’s reply to your goodmorning! text. He sent back a simple good morning and another picture of him reflected in the silvery cover.
His hair was messy from sleep, sleep shirt pulled in the night to expose his collarbone, the faded purple mark you left there just barely visible. There was a lazy grin on his face as he reached up as if to wave.
Your eyes were wide as you scanned the image, taking everything in. Oh, he was teasing you now. And to think you thought his picture last night was innocent, just showing off the new feature of his room, as if "miss you" wasn't his go-to message when he wanted you in his bed for more than just cuddles.
Your tired brain must've skipped over any flirty undertones and your sweet boyfriend let it go, knowing you were sleepy. But he knew you were up now, and coming over in ten hours. You thanked the universe you had put on cute panties this morning.
The rest of the work day was you managing to get everything right despite the burning need that had settled over your skin once the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Soobin's messages had only gotten bolder as he sent you pictures of him sweaty in the dance room mirrors. You didn't dare sneak away for a photo to send back, only replying quickly before you were running off to the next task of the day.
----
Finally, your long day ended and you were on your way to Soobin's dorm. You sent him a quick text to let him know your eta.
He had food from your favorite takeout place waiting for you when you walked in, all but collapsing in his warm embrace as he greeted you at the door. "Missed you," he whispered into your hair.
You playfully slapped his arm, releasing yourself from the hug. "It was like a day and a half you goofball."
----
A few hours later, after eating and playing video games together, the two of you were curled up in Soobin's bed. The dim glow of the bedside lamp and the screen of Soobin's phone were the only sources of light. Your head rested on his shoulder, left leg resting on top of his right thigh, your arm crossing his chest so you could gently play with the hem of his sleeve as the video played.
You shifted your position slightly and felt the thick muscle in Soobin's thigh against your clothed core as you moved. A nearly inaudible whimper escaped your lips as you felt him against you, the want from the morning never fully dissipating.
Soobin stilled beneath you at your noise. The video continued to play, his eyes still focused on the screen. You held your breath, waiting to see how he would react. He had been the one to get you in this mood, but nothing had been brought up since the afternoon and you weren't sure if he was still feeling it.
Until you felt him flex the muscle in his thigh so that he brushed against you there again, your sharp intake of breath telling him that his texts had worked on you.
He paused the video, setting his phone down on the nightstand. "You know I really missed you last night."
"Mmmhmm," you hummed, face heating up. "You texted me, remember?"
"I remember," he whispered. "Look up there." He gestured to the ceiling.
You looked up to face your reflection, you and Soobin curled up together on his big white bed. "Keep your eyes up there and let me make you feel good."
He kissed you, breaking your view, a long, languid kiss. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips before exploring your mouth. The heat between your legs grew as he repositioned himself so that he hovered over you, cradling you tenderly beneath him. Your hands found their way to his head, tangling in his hair, the image reflected back to you in the reflection above.
The kiss broke with you whining for more as he trailed hot kisses down your throat. His fingers found their way to the buttons on your sleep shirt, undoing each one as his mouth continued against your throat. Once the final button had been undone, Soobin’s warm hands slipped underneath the fabric, slipping around to hold you, pushing the fabric aside as he did. Now bare, your nipples stiffened against the cool air. Soobin pulled away to admire your bare chest, groaning lightly as he did. “So pretty,” he whispered, sucking your nipple into his mouth and releasing with a wet pop. “Missed these.” You smiled to yourself; oh your silly boy, couldn’t go forty-eight hours without your boobs in his mouth.
He continued worshiping your breast, slowly kneading the other in his big hand, pinching and pulling at the nipple his mouth wasn’t attached to before pulling off and switching so that each side had the same attention. Your quiet moans filled the space; your fingers lightly scratching his scalp and pulling his hair the way you know he liked it.
“Must’ve missed me a lot, huh, baby?”
Soobin pulled off your chest, leaving your tits wet and open to the cool air. He nuzzled his reply into the skin of your belly as he pressed kisses down your body. “You don’t even know.” He kissed below your right breast. “Kept looking up and seeing everything reflected back.” A kiss just above your navel. “Thought about how good it would look seeing you cumming for me like that.” His lips hovered above the waistband of your panties. “Got so hard thinking about it.” He pressed a hot kiss to the lacy edge of your panties, grinding his hips against the bed as he did.
“Soobin,” you whispered, your voice whiny and full of breathless need. “Need you.”
He grinned up at you from where he was positioned- his face hovering over your pussy. “Need you to keep your eyes up there for me, okay baby? Need you to watch yourself cum for me.” You groaned at his words, complying with his request as you watched in the mirrored film. You watched him as he tugged off your panties, discarding them onto the floor. You watched him as he parted your thighs, giving him access to your needy core. You watched him as his dark head dipped down, licking a hot stripe through your folds.
After that, it became hard to keep watching.
----
Soobin’s plush lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently. His tongue peaked forward as he did, running against the bundle of nerves. He had barely started and already you were arching your back, eyes closing as the sensations built.
His tongue worked against you, swirling against your clit, dipping down to run through your folds, teasing at your entrance. His mouth a wet, hot heat against your wet, hot core. His hands splayed out across your hips, holding you down when you instinctively bucked your hips, chasing the feeling of his plush lips against you.
He pulled off of you. “Are you keeping your eyes on the mirror?” His words caused a heat to creep over your skin. He registered your bashful response for what it is. “Need you to keep your eyes open baby, want you to see how good I can make you feel. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded. “I can do it.”
“That’s a good girl.” He returned his attention to eating you out, tongue giving flat, broad strokes to your core, swirling around your aching clit. You moaned his name, fighting to keep your gaze trained on the image above you. You on your back, nearly completely nude, your boyfriend between your thighs, the marks he sucked onto your chest blooming purple and blue. A particularly strong suck to your clit made you buck your hips, the image of yourself so desperate drawing another moan from your lips. 
You were already close, watching as you came undone causing you to unravel even faster. You clenched around nothing, craving that one final push to send you over the edge. As if he could read your mind, Soobin’s tongue nudged your entrance, slipping just barely inside. The feeling of his muscle there caused you to cry out, your thighs clamping together. Soobin hummed against you, grinding against the mattress as your enthusiastic response spurred him on further. The vibrations against your core, along with the bump of his nose against your clit sent you careening, your orgasm falling on you like a ton of bricks.
You followed Soobin’s instructions, watching as you writhed against the sheets. Watching as you bucked your hips. Watching as your hands dug into Soobin’s hair, pushing his face against you, desperate for more.
You watched as you rode out your orgasm on your boyfriend’s face, listened as he moaned against your pussy, lapping up the flood of wetness that you produced.
You tugged at his hair gently, pulling him off as you shied away from oversensitivity. He grinned up at you lazily, a dopey smile plastered to his face as your juices coated his skin. “Did you watch?”
Your chest heaved as you came down from your high. “Yes baby, watched the whole thing.”
He crawled up the bed to kiss you, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue as it danced with yours. “Was it hot?”
“This’ll be hotter,” you replied, pushing Soobin against the bed.
His eyes were wide, unsure of what you were about to do. You kissed him, hands finding the hem of his shirt. You tugged it up over his head before slipping the rest of your open shirt off your shoulders and pressing your bare chest to his. He shivered when your skin touched, growing increasingly aware of how angry his erection was in his boxers.
You palmed him through the thin material, continuing to kiss him, humming against his lips when he whined. “Hmm, lay down flat for me baby. Gonna make you feel good now.”
He complied, shuffling down the bed so he was flat on his back. Slowly, you pulled off his boxers, a wet stain of precum showing just how ready he was for you.
His free cock slapped against his tummy, beads of silver dripping onto his skin. You grabbed it at the base, locking eyes as you asked “Do you want to try something? Could be fun for you with the mirrored ceiling and all.”
He agreed, not quite sure what you had in mind as you climbed up so that you were sat on his chest. You quickly explained your plan, growing warm as Soobin held onto each word, growing more visibly excited as you spoke.
“Can you keep your eyes up there for me?”
Soobin shook his head, laughing at you making him play his own game. “I'll try my best, baby. Anything for you.”
You giggled, moving so that your hips were over his head, your face hovering over his flushed cock. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
“I will. But it won’t be.”
You kept your hips hovering over his face for a few moments, despite his hands gripping into your thighs. You loved to hear the sounds he makes when you first take him into your mouth.
“Fuuuck,” he cursed out slowly as you licked at his leaky tip, “so good.”
Your tongue teased at his slit before you dragged it down, tracing the vein that ran across the underside. You placed slow kisses along his length, hand massaging his balls as you did. His heavy breaths were loud in the quiet of the room as he fought to keep his voice down, always a bit louder when he was in your mouth. 
Wanting to put on a show for him before you truly sat on his face, you angled his cock towards his hip so you could take him at an angle that would reflect more than just the back of your head. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling him into your mouth. His sharp intake of breath made you smile around him, just the corners of your mouth turning up. You slowly dragged your lips down his length, causing him to whine.
Before you could do anything more, he pulled your ass down so that his lips could attach themselves to your clit once again. The motion caused you to pull off Soobin’s cock, your balance wobbling. You tipped forward, moaning with your face pressed against his balls. His hips chased the vibrations and you felt him groan against your core.
Your thighs were still wet and sticky from Soobin’s earlier endeavors as they closed around his head, your hips rutting forward, needing more of him. You tried your best to focus on Soobin, on making him feel good. This was your idea but already you were lightheaded and distracted with your own pleasure.
You took him into your mouth again, feeling his weight heavy on your tongue. Relaxing your throat, you took him as far as you could go. He was big- fat tip nudging at your soft palate as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose. Meanwhile, Soobin’s tongue teased at your entrance, darting inside as your nose brushed against his pelvis. His teasing caused you to twitch forward, gagging yourself slightly on his cock. You pulled off, gasping, air flooding into your lungs as a thick mix of drool and precum fell from your lips.
Without your lips wrapped around him, Soobin was more precise in his actions, driving you closer to your second high. His hands squeezed your thighs as he licked broad stripes up the length of your folds, rough, desperate squeezes that would leave marks in the morning. His lips and tongue were wet and hot against your clit, the slippery friction making you release a string of needy whines.
You gripped onto Soobin’s cock, hand slowly pumping him as you tried not to get lost in your own pleasure. You brought your face down to lick across his length, your spit adding to the mess pooling at the base. You gathered it in your hand, coating his length with the wetness while licking the head. His hips stuttered in response. You took him into your throat again, bobbing your head on what you could comfortably take.
The room was filled with the slick sounds of your shared pleasure. Soobin groaned softly beneath you as he ate you out, taking pleasure in the taste of you and what small glimpses he could get of the two of you in his new reflective ceiling.
You continued to bob on his cock, alternating with slick jerks of your wrist when he became too much.
The pressure building in your core was becoming overwhelming. You rocked back, putting your weight onto your hands as you ground your hips down onto Soobin’s face. Your boyfriend grunted underneath you, his tongue moving faster against you, reading the cues of your body, wanting you to cum on his face. His hands moved up from where they were holding your thighs to squeeze hard on your ass. Broken whimpers fell from your lips as Soobin’s swollen lips slipped against your clit, the slick friction of his lips and tongue sucking and licking was about to send you over the edge.
“There, there, right there,” you moaned into the skin at his hip. Your hips were moving on their own as you chased your high, cumming hard on Soobin’s tongue. You cried out, hips stuttering away as you bucked overstimulation, but his big hands held you back, keeping you on his tongue as he led you through your second orgasm.
Head heavy with your high, you reached for Soobin’s cock again, not wanting to leave him without your touch. Catching your breath, you adjusted yourself so that you weren’t sitting directly on Soobin’s face anymore. He groaned at the sight of your swollen pussy dripping down onto him, wet with your combined fluids and flushed from his attention.
You hummed as you pulled him back into your mouth, sucking at the head of his cock, flushed red with want. Your hand jerked the base, your quick movements bringing him closer to his own orgasm. He moaned beneath you, his breath hot against your sensitive pussy. Your motions sped up as your tongue flicked at his slit, your hand jerking him in quick motions. His hips stuttered beneath you, bucking up into your grip, chasing his high. “That’s it baby, cum for me. Make a mess.” You said, pulling off him as your hand moved the slick of your spit and his precum down the length of his cock, movements getting even more slippery. “Look up in the mirror,” you commanded, craning your neck as you moved your hips so you could make eye contact with him in the silvery film above.
The moan he let out when your eyes met in the reflection was loud, drowning out the wet sounds beneath your face. “Gonna cum, gonna cum baby.”
You smiled, turning your face back to his cock. “Let go baby- cum for me.” He choked out a strangled whine as he came, spurting ropes of cum across his tummy and thighs. Your open mouth caught some too, the taste of salt bursting on your tongue as you caught what you could, knowing Soobin liked it when you tasted like him. Your hand slowed as you continued pumping him, milking his cock until he tapped your thighs, signaling you to climb off.
----
He pulled you to his chest, cuddling you in his arms as you both caught your breath. Soobin’s face was a mess of slick and spit, his hair mussed up, standing on all ends. He looked sleepy and content, fully sated. You kissed him, tasting each other in the kiss. “Was that everything you were thinking of when you texted me yesterday?”
He smiled, dopey grin lighting up his face, “maybe not everything.” He kissed your nose. “Honestly, I couldn’t see that good with you in the way,” he teased, placing a light slap to your ass. You smacked him playfully on the chest. His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “But we can try the rest later. The film’s gonna be up for a while.”
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
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daisynik7 · 6 months
Note
“freak-a-leek” by petey pablo for a jean and eren threesome if that’s okay plz
Freek-A-Leak
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Jean Kirstein
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.9k
cw: modern setting au, explicit language, p*rn w/no plot, smut – threesome, PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, blowjob, sex toy use, masturbation, cum-eating, dirty talk, sex without a condom, pet names (baby, sweetheart), reader has multiple orgasms, creampies, just some overall smutty silliness
Summary: You’re on a business trip with the two cockiest salesmen in your department: Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein. After a long day of dealing with them clashing over the silliest things, you decide to unwind in your hotel room the best way you know how. 
Author’s Note: This is the last song on the y2k karaoke party playlist! Thank you so much for the request anon! I had fun with this! It’s all horny and just plain silly, so I hope you like it. Thank you so much for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune. 
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It’s almost 10 PM when you finally make it back to your hotel room, completely spent from today’s activities. It’s the first day of the conference here in Marley and being stuck in the middle of Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein has proven to be much more exhausting than you anticipated. 
You’re not completely convinced you needed to come on this business trip with them. After all, they’re the top two salesmen in your department, and this conference is solely for selling your product to new customers. Your boss, Hangë, encouraged you, the lead design engineer, to tag along in case they needed any technical support while demonstrating the ODM equipment. You were reluctant at first, but when they emphasized the fact that this trip would be completely paid for, including the lodging and food, how could you refuse? 
Unfortunately for you, because of the two clashing personalities between Jean and Eren, you ended up playing mediator throughout the day rather than engineer. The two bickered as usual, from where to eat, to what side of the table they wanted to stand on. In front of the customers, they were professional and charismatic, no hint of animosity lingering around them. As soon as it was the three of you alone, it was nonstop arguing and snide remarks, with you doing your best to either ignore it or alleviate it until the next fight arose. 
Luckily for you, Hangë set you up with your own room at the hotel while the other two shared the one right beside you. There’s an adjoining door for easy access into each other’s space and Jean begs you to open it when you first check in, not wanting a single moment alone with his temporary roommate. But after today’s festivities, you’re desperate for some private time by yourself.
Jean steps into your room, leaning against the doorframe. “So, should we watch a movie?” he suggests, still in his dress shirt, tie loosened around his collar.
Eren appears behind him, on his tip-toes to get your attention. “Why don’t we play video games instead?”
You yawn, shooing them away. “I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep.” 
You try to shut the door on them, but Jean pushes back, persistent. “You’re not seriously going to leave me alone with him, are you?” He points his thumb to the man behind him. 
Eren scoffs. “I don’t want to be alone with you either!”
“Dude, you are breathing down my neck! Give me some space.”
“Then move so I can talk to her!”
“It’s not your turn to talk!”
“Guys!” you yell, losing your patience. “I am tired. Try to get along so we can all get some sleep. Please?”
They grumble to themselves, shoving elbows at each other before they finally leave you alone, closing the door to give you your peace. You don’t bother locking in, certain they won’t be bothering you the rest of the night. 
After a nice, hot shower, you get comfortable in your pajamas, rummaging through one of your pouches until you find what you’re looking for. After a long day with those two goofballs, the best way for you to relieve stress is to have a little playtime. You carry your vibrator with you to bed, one ear bud in, and your favorite naughty audio ready to play on your phone. Only five minutes in, with the fluttering tip pressed to your clit, it doesn’t take long for you to orgasm. Ready for another, you get distracted by the muffled voices of your neighbors, bickering once again. You pop your ear bud out, trying to hear whatever dumb topic they’re arguing about now. The toy is still vibrating in your hands, the tip wet with your arousal. You let your imagination wander, thinking of Jean and Eren just on the other side of the wall. Hot, heated, raring to go. Fantasizing about the nasty, filthy things they could do to you if they knew just how horny you are, pent up with sexual frustration from all the testosterone you were surrounded with today. 
Suddenly, the door swings open and Eren stomps into the room, shouting your name. “Who do you find more annoying, me or him?!” Jean follows right on his tail, trying to grab him by the collar of his undershirt, hissing, “She’s sleeping, you dumbass!” They stop in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at you with your legs spread open on the bed, blanket shrugged off, vibrator buzzing in your hand. Completely exposed.
You quickly pull the covers over you, hiding the toy beneath your pillow, mortified. “What the fuck?!” you yell out to them. 
Both of them gape at you, blushing all the way down to their necks, speechless for the first time all day. Their silence is louder than any squabbling they’ve done today, and you have no idea what to say to make this any less awkward than it already is. 
Before you can think of another response, Eren clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey Jean. Bet I can make her come harder than you can.”
Jean glances at him, hesitant at first, then relaxes into a smirk. “Oh yeah? You’re on.”
Eren steps towards the bed, grinning at you. “What do you say? Will you help us?” 
You stare at them, befuddled and also extremely intrigued by this offer. Deciding quickly, you nod at them, releasing the grip on the blanket. They both smile at you, putting a flutter in your belly. Eren laughs, tugging on the covers slowly. “Come on. You can’t hide from us now.”
Jean joins in, dragging it down your body until you’re on display again, pussy glistening from your first orgasm. They both swear under their breaths, Eren licking his lips while Jean bites his. “Fuck, did you already come?”
“Yeah, I did,” you answer, pussy aching to be touched by either one of them. Both of them.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eren says, inching towards you. “You’re extra juicy for me, huh?”
“Why do you get to go first?” Jean butts in, scowling. 
Eren positions himself at your arousal, his breath hot on your pussy as he replies, “I don’t want to lick your spit.”
“Well, I don’t want to lick yours either! Let me goes first.”
“Fuck you, I’m already here.”
“Then move!” 
“Guys!” you cry out, bucking your hips, desperate for anything at this point. “Just hurry up and touch me. Please.”
Eren sticks his tongue out. “You heard her,” he muffles, licking circles around your clit. “Let’s make our girl feel good.”
Jean swallows hard, positioning himself beside you, puckering his lips around your nipples and sucking. You moan, arching your back off the bed, running your fingers through his hair. “Feels so good,” you whine, feeding your other breast to him. He latches on immediately, pulling your teat between his lips while Eren laps at your puffy clit. With your free hand, you grab hold of his hair, gripping it to pull him deeper into your cunt. Soon, you’re gushing on his face, rutting your hips against him while he swallows every drop of you. 
“Fuck, you taste good,” Eren says, tongue prodding into your slit. 
“I want a taste too,” Jean mutters, giving your nipple one last hard suck before he releases you with a wet pop. 
“Not yet,” Eren murmurs, kissing the soft plush of your thighs. 
Jean crawls to where he is, shoving him slightly to stick his face into your pussy. “It’s my turn, jackass.” He laps at your clit, determined to be better than his rival. 
Eren laughs, collecting your slick slathered on his chin and lips with his fingers, licking it off. “Be honest, baby. Is he doing better than me?” He strips out of his bottoms, lying beside you, stroking his hard cock. 
You squeeze your thighs around Jean’s head, bucking into his mouth, already close to your third climax. Your eyes go from Eren’s fist jerking himself off to Jean’s face shaking between your legs, eating you out feverishly. He teases a finger inside you and when you flutter around it, he slides in all the way, adding a second.
“No fair,” Eren breathes out, stroking himself faster.
Jean chuckles against your skin, sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You turn your head to face Eren, leaning towards him to kiss him sloppily. He cradles your cheek with his free hand, pulling you in deeper, tongue swirling around yours, slurping up your spit. Once again, you’re pushed over the edge, coming on Jean’s face this time, his nose pressed to your sensitive bud as he drinks up all the slick leaking out of you. 
“Fuck me,” you beg, not directing it to anyone in particular.
Eren smiles against your mouth, licking your drool off the corners of your lips. “Go ahead, Jean. You can go first.”
Jean shoves his pants down, releasing his stiff cock, palming it. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he says, kneeling next to your head, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. “We’re having way too much fun right here, aren’t we sweetheart?” You nod in response, moaning around his dick as you sink your mouth on it, swallowing it until it’s to the back of your throat. “Fuck, you take it so good. You wanted to get fucked like this tonight, huh? Wanted to show us what a freak you are.”
Jean slides his cock inside you, stretching you out until he bottoms out. He spreads your legs apart, holding you open so he can pound straight into you. Eren’s focus goes from his own pleasure to his friend thrusting. “Fuck her harder, Jean.”
He obeys, picking up the pace, shoving himself deeper. You choke on your own moans, pulling off Eren to catch your breath. He cradles your face in his hands, massaging your cheeks tenderly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Take a break. Just enjoy getting fucked by this fat cock.”
“Fuck,” Jean growls, closing his eyes. “I’m so close.”
Eren licks his lips, watching. “Don’t pull out. Fill her up.”
At that, Jean loses it, spurting his hot load inside you, your pussy fluttering around him. He pulls out, switching spots with Eren, snuggling up next to you to kiss you softly. You smile at him, whispering, “Thank you.”
He plants a smooch on your nose. “Thank you, baby.”
“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Eren says, guiding his hard cock inside you. “I’m going to fuck all this cum right back inside this cunt.”
You and Jean both moan, watching him fuck you with a devilish grin on his face. Jean reaches under the pillow, retrieving the toy you used earlier. “Can I use this on you?”
Incoherent and fucked out, you nod, desperate for whatever it is they want to offer to you. He presses the button, making the vibrator buzz in his grip, pressing the fluttering tip to your clit while Eren continues to ravish you. His eyes widen when he sees what Jean’s doing. “Oh shit. She’s squeezing me so fucking tight.” 
You’re in a drunken daze, trembling all over your body from the pleasure, whimpering uncontrollably with Jean toying with your clit as Eren fucks your brains out. When you reach your final climax, Eren comes with you, burying his cum deep inside your womb. You’re stuffed to the brim with both their loads, feeling exhausted and euphoric. 
Eren pulls out, cuddling up to your other side, kissing your forehead. Jean sets the vibrator aside, spooning you from the back. You relax in their arms, actually happy to be stuck in the middle of them for once.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Eren asks jokingly, “So…who won?”
“Obviously me,” Jean grins, kissing your neck.
You laugh, snuggling closer to the both of them. “I think I’m the real winner here.”
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rakurairagnarok · 4 months
Text
I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.
A Green Christmas
`What!!`
Ryan screamed at the news.
You sighed.
´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´
Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´
You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.
`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´
Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.
`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'
Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.
"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"
Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.
A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.
"Steven, can we talk bro?"
"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."
"Please, just for a little while."
"...Fine..."
Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.
"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."
You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.
"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"
You sighed.
"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."
Ryan smiled.
"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."
"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.
"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?
Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.
"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.
He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.
"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."
You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.
"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.
" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."
You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.
"You know what. Sure."
Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.
He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.
"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."
"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.
Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.
"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.
"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.
"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.
"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."
You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.
"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"
"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.
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You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.
"Wanna take another hit bro?"
Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.
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"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.
Ryan smiles back.
"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"
You look at him with a flushed face.
"What... did you say?"
"You're hot. You look amazing."
"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.
"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face
Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.
"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."
Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...
You manage to push away and look at him.
"Ry... I ... "
"yeah?"
"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"
Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.
"Fuck yeah bro!!"
A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.
"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.
"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"
The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.
You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.
You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.
This will be a pretty special Christmas.
__________________________________________________________
Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.
Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.
WC: 5.6k
Chapter 6/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika
Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.
Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.
His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.
“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”
“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”
Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.
“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?
Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”
The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 
Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”
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Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 
Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.
Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.
He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.
“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”
“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”
Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”
“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”
“What do you mean?”
“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”
Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 
“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”
Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 
“Harris?”
The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 
He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”
You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.
“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”
Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.
One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 
“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.
So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?
You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”
You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…
“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 
“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”
Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”
You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.
“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”
“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”
“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”
You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 
Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”
“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”
“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.
“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”
Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.
All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 
You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”
Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”
Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.
“S’okay.”
He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”
Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”
Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”
“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.
“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”
Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.
“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”
Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.
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There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 
Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.
No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.
“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.
Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”
“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”
Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”
“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—
“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”
“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 
Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”
“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”
The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 
So, he doesn’t. 
“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 
Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  
Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 
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Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”
“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 
“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”
The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”
“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 
“Daddy?”
No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—
“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”
Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 
He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.
Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.
Fuck. 
“Daddy? Hello?”
At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”
“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 
“Yeah. Like a princess.”
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Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 
On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 
But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 
You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 
Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”
“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”
“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 
Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 
“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.
“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 
“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”
You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?
“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”
Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 
You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”
“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”
You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 
This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 
His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 
“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 
Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”
Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?
The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.
“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.
The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.
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The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.
“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.
“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.
Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”
You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.
There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.
Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy
Family size mistake=family size bag of candy
I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 
You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 
-Eddie
P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.
“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.
You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.
“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.
“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 
It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.
You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”
Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”
Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”
That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.
Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.
--
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buckyalpine · 2 years
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Want You
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18+ Minors dni 
Love this. This was literally in the works and then I see this request in the middle of me writing it, chefs kiss.  I love jealously, idk what’s wrong with me but it scratches an itch I cannot describe.
Warnings: FLUFF, pregnancy, Smuuttt (daddy kink, breeding kink,) angst if you squint but honestly not really. 
Word count: 1.6k
The best part is Sharon was so certain Bucky would never chose you. Bucky had a type and it wasn’t you so imagine her surprise when he’s completely smitten by you. And by surprised, I mean complete and utter denial.
She figured it’s just a phase, maybe Bucky is bored, wants to try something new and soon or later, he’ll come to his sense and dump you, it’s just a matter of time.
Except.
The way he is with you is unlike anything else. PDA galore and this is from the man who retches at physical touch.
Bucky’s hands are always on you and the more comfortable het gets, the friskier his touches become. He has you on his lap during movie night, one hand up your shirt, softly stroking your skin. His arms are wrapped around you, cuddling you to his chest like a teddy bear, not giving a shit what movie is on.
All he cares about is cuddling his girl in his arms at all times.
He gets pouty. Sharon nearly loses her shit when she sees how soft he is for you. You can’t even get up and get a drink of water without him trailing behind you or jutting his bottom lip out when you tell him he can stay, you’ll just take a sec.
“But I can come with you”
“Bucky I’m just going to the kitchen”
“I’m coming with you”
His head rests on your shoulder as you make yourself some tea, his eyes closed, arms around you waist, he truly doesn’t ever want to be anywhere else.
And the names. Any girl he’d been with before had only been referred to by name but with you?
“Good morning my baby”
“I missed you babygirl”
“Come cuddle with me bubba”
“How’s my babydoll”
“Where’s my baby” Sharon saw red the day he was going around looking for you, hardly realizing (nor giving a fuck) he didn’t use your name and just went around asking where his baby was. Everyone thought it was the absolute sweetest thing on the planet, love stuck Bucky, happily wandering looking for his babydoll (who was napping in his Henley on his bed). Sharon strongly disagreed.
All hell nearly breaks loose when she comes back from a temporary transfer. She figured Bucky’s infatuation would have died down by now. So imagine her surprise when she sees…
You were fast asleep on the couch, your back flush against his chest. Bucky nuzzled his face into your neck, his hand softly rubbing your little baby bump under your shirt. He couldn’t stop kissing you, giving you gently little kisses, careful not to wake you up while he caressed your tummy, he thought he was in love before but now it was in over drive.
Sharon considered quitting. Because it only gets worse.
You’re almost always in Bucky’s arms. He’s always carrying you. He won’t let your feet touch the ground, not when you’re having his baby. And fuck, he loves talking about it.
“I’m going to be a dad!”
“You think our baby will have super strength?”
“What do you mean I can’t get them a mini knife set”
He’s doting on you constantly, feeding you, rubbing your feet, kissing each of your toes before massaging up your calves. He never lets you shower alone, he’s always there to help you, making sure you don’t slip. He has you lay down on the soft sheets, grabbing your favourite lotion, his hands working in gentle circles, massaging it into your skin. He kisses your stretch marks, taking his time moisturizing your skin, his hands skimming over the little kicks; he loves feeling his little one move inside.
Sharon had a resignation letter ready (thought not submitted) after Bucky took his shirt off at the gym. He’d been shirtless plenty of times so she knew exactly what he looked like, memorizing every scar, and dip of his skin. So this was fucking new.
Bucky’s fists flew to the punching bag, his chest glistening with sweat, beading down his pecs, right over where he had your name tattooed, another tattoo dedicated to his little baby boy etched on his shoulder.
“Y-you got a tattoo?” She tried to give him a flirty smile, her hand coming to trace over the tattoo, her skin flushing in embarrassment when Bucky took a step back.
“Yeah” Bucky stuck to giving her one word answers, in utter disbelief she was still trying to make a move even after he’d had a baby with you.
“ Nice ink cyborg” Sam smirked, hoping to egg Sharon on, loving the way she angriliy huffed, trying to pretend she didn’t care.
“For my angels” Bucky smiled shyly, his cheeks blushing, this wouldn’t be the only piece he had for you.
Stop here if you just wanted some fluff. Continue if you want some spice.
Oh she doesn’t just over hear it. She saw it. It was her fault tbh.
You stayed back while the team had left for an international conference, leaving the entire compound free for just you and a certain super soldier. Sam’s sister had happily agreed to babysit for the weekend to give you both some alone time. And what a fucking time you had.
After learning Bucky wasn’t going, Sharon had managed to find a way to stay behind, figuring this would be the best time to get him alone, completely unaware that you were still at the compound. She did her makeup, throwing on a sheer dress and foregoing a bra, making her way down stairs…when she heard….the fuck?
The sounds of skin slapping on skin echoed through the hall from the kitchen, pornographic moans bouncing off the walls.
Her lips curled into a smirk, even if Bucky was fucking someone else, it was nice to know he wasn’t as loyal as everyone though. He clearly got bored of you, just waiting for the chance for you to leave before he could feel some type of satisfaction.
She crept down the hall, nearly collapsing, watching the both of you, stark naked, fucking on the kitchen counter. Bucky had thrown off all your clothes, bending you over the island, his palm pressing in between your shoulder blades, against the cold marble.
“Y-you like this, huh baby, you love daddy’s cock filling you up? Smile for the camera mama, lemme see that pretty little face”
Sharon felt light headed, noticing Bucky’s phone propped up, his hand coming to tug your hair, your eyes rolling all the way back. Bucky spanked you, causing you to cry out before coming down to kiss your shoulder, thrusting into you harder.
“Look at how fucked out you are baby, how you gonna handle my cum princess, already so fucking gone” Bucky groaned, his cock throbbing as you moaned, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.
“Gonna put another baby in you mama, fuck, can’t wait to see you pregnant again” Bucky’s balls felt heavy, slapping against your clit with each stroke.
“J-J-ames!” You cried out feeling the band tighten in your belly, your orgasam approaching you hard and fast.
“Mmm say my name doll, say my fucking name” He snarled, pulling his cock out, throwing you over his shoulder, moving to the dining table.
There’s no way…he wouldn’t actually…oh fuck. Sharon didn’t know why she didn’t just leave but she couldn’t look away as Bucky set up his phone again. He carefully crawled on top of you, right in the middle of the table (thank fuck for Stark technology, it was built to withstand just about anything), spreading your legs, slamming into you in a single stroke.
“Kinky little baby, wasn’t this your fantasy princess? For me to fuck you right on the dining table” Bucky let out a dark chuckle, brining your thighs up higher so he could hit a deeper angle. You nearly sobbed, your head thrown back against the table as he slammed into you, his hand cradling your head so you wouldn’t get hurt.
“James I-I’m gonna-
“I know mama, squeeze my cock baby, milk it, take my cum” Bucky moaned, nipping and biting your skin, leaving dark bruises in their wake. “There’s so much cum baby, gonna make such a mess all over the table”
“JAMES” You clawed at his back feeling his hand come down to play with your clit, his pace growing sloppy.
“Babygirl….m’gonna knock you up baby, you want daddy’s cum?”
“Wan’ daddy’s cum Bucky, wan’ it!” You whined and cried out, your walls spasming around him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he started to fill you, his cum leaking out of you, dripping through your folds and onto the table.
“So. Much. Cum mama, its so fucking much” Bucky whimpered, his sensitive cock still throbbing in your silky walls. “Fuck, I love you” He grinned down at you, letting his body relax for a bit, as you played with his hair. He let his phone continue recording, he loved these moments just as much.
The whole compound was a mess. Bucky had spilled his cum into you in the gym, the showers, the balcony, the lab, the elevator, and finally in your room, under the covers, his hips slowly rolling against you, taking his time to savour your body.  
Sharon moves to a different department. But it didn’t help. Imagine her surprise when she sees Bucky’s arms full of babies, a little toddler on his shoulder, sleeping twins in both arms, with you by his side, your hand resting on your little baby bump.
Of course she’s still waiting for the day where he’ll lose interest.
And he never does.
Not on the day you got married.
Not on the day you had your fourth baby.
Not on the day you had your fifth.
Not today.
Not ever.
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  
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luvring · 9 months
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GOOD WITH KIDS
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ushijima, suna, hinata, akaashi, sakusa, kita, atsumu with their kids ^__< reader is never mentioned so u can imagine them as single dads if u'd like 🫶
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USHIJIMA’s tall, to say the least. his daughter finds this incredibly beneficial to her every few days. all she has to do is walk up to his spot on the couch and look a little fidgety, biting her bottom lip, for wakatoshi to smile. “is something high up again?” “yeah…the cereal’s on the top shelf again! i didn’t put it there last time though, i swear.” she furrows her brows as her dad stands up to his full height. “well, let’s get it down from there together, then.” he easily pulls her into his arms and she giggles, maneuvering her way to sit on his shoulders with practiced ease. “make sure not to bump your head,” he reminds her, slowly walking to the kitchen. “i won’t!” she carefully holds onto him, and wakatoshi’s glad she hasn’t figured out he’s the one who’s been putting things high up whenever she’s finished with them.
SUNA holds his daughter's hand, his phone with two tickets to the barbie movie open in the hand that's free. they had gotten ready together—rintarou had let her put her cutest pink clips into his hair, and made sure to get a shirt that matched the shade of her dress. he took her to buy a whole outfit for the occasion, from the dress to her bag to her shoes. the pair had taken photos and videos, one currently posted on his story that had her face out of view, but bow in her hair shown off. “can i get the barbie popcorn combo, too?” she asks in line. “yeah, you wanna get a photo with the barbie cut-out after?” “yeah, yeah! she looks so pretty.” rintarou hums and lets her swing their arms back and forth, careful not to hit the people around them. “i think you’re even prettier, though.”
HINATA has always supported his son in decorating and expressing himself, which is why when he wanted to decorate his room, he couldn’t say no, even with his lack of artistic skills. instead, they worked together to fill online shopping carts with different merchandise and furniture and got temporary wallpaper that would fit the bill. a couple of weeks later, and now shoyo finds himself sitting on the ground setting up a new desk, surrounded by boxes and different figures that will hopefully fill the bookshelf they built a few hours earlier. “dad?” “yeah?” “do you think i could get some of your team’s stuff, too?” “my—” shoyo fumbles with the screw in his hand in shock. “like, like your shirt? or something signed by uncle bokuto?” the question could make shoyo cry, he thinks, and he makes a noise of excited agreement. “of course you can! do you want to check my old high school stuff, too?”
AKAASHI’s a fan of thunderstorms. his daughter on the other hand, is not. so he’s made it a little game. they’re sitting together in a blanket fort, legs touching and hands on their lap.she fidgets slightly at the sight of the lightning, but starts to count out loud for the thunder. “one, two, three, four…” keiji joins and they watch each other carefully. at eight, the thunder rumbles the house and his daughter reaches over—not for a hug or comfort, but to try tickling her dad who does the same. she squeals as he reaches for her sides, and keiji laughs as she, maybe a little aggressively, tickles him back. when he picks her up to sit her on his lap, she yells, “no fair! that’s cheating!” between giggles and yelps. in mock indignation, keiji replies, “cheating? i would never do that.” yet stops anyway. his daughter jokingly huffs. “i’m gonna get you next time.”
SAKUSA’s eyes widen as his daughter runs up to him, only to hide behind his legs. instinctively, his hand moves to hold and comfort her as he scans the park for what could have scared her. it’s when two large dogs bark that he spots them playing with each other and the dots click. he turns to squat in front of his daughter, who looks at him with wide eyes and a pout that make his heart clench. “dad,” she says softly. “hm?” “do you think i could play with the dogs? they’re…big.” she sends a pointed look to other kids walking up to the owner and their pets. kiyoomi hums again and gently rubs her shoulder. “ it looks like they’re being nice with the other kids, right? why don’t we go together and ask?” his daughter nods and grabs his hand, and kiyoomi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles before walking over with her.
KITA’s son is adamant that his bed is the comfiest in the house. shinsuke’s happy to hear this, of course, even if he’d have to personally disagree. he’s about to rest in your own bedroom, when his son catches up to him in the hall. “do you wanna try my bed?” shinsuke blinks, processing the question. he laughs a little. “i don’t think i’d fit properly.” “we can both fit!” and before he can object, his son is pulling him into his bedroom and onto the bed that was definitely not made for the two of them to fit. but something tells him that he won’t get out of this easily, so he lets out a breathy laugh before crawling in, leaving space for his son to curl in with him. his back will probably hurt a little when he wakes up, but he pulls the blanket over the both of them anyway with a soft smile on his face.
ATSUMU rolls up his sleeves and pretends to crack his knuckles. “y’ready?” “yeah!” his son says with determination. the carnival game worker counts down, and they both get ready with their basketballs. the grand prize, the largest teddy bear, was locked behind a rigged basketball hoop, but the two of them refused to give up. and apparently atsumu’s mind is on another level right now, honed in as he succeeds with most of his tosses, and gets the last needed shot for that damned bear. “dad! you did it!” his son cheers and excitedly pulls on his arm. “ha! and who said i couldn’t play a sport other than volleyball?” “...no one?” “aw, come on,” atsumu whines, “work with me here!” the both of them are play-fighting when the worker manages to get the bear down and hand it to them. there’s huge grins on both of their faces as they shout a thanks. “can i put it in my room?” “and hide this success? it’s goin’ in the living room.” “you can do that?” “majority of the family says yes, we can do anythin’.”
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mangomonk · 8 months
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i've been dreaming
↳ summary: read this drabble and pt. 1 first! remus deals with the repercussions of falling in love too late. ↳ content: angst, happy ending, mentions of eating/sleeping properly ↳ a/n: get comfy, this is a long one! i really appreciated and loved each comment from pt. 1, it made my day to see y'all scream heartbreak. would love to hear your thoughts on this one : D anyways, i went back and forth on my characterization of remus a million times, but i hope this version of him resonates and i hope you enjoy :") tense/grammar is all over the place, minimal proofreading but i've stared at this for too long. p.s. i'm kinda proud af about connecting the titles, they're from ivy by frank ocean.
Remus has been dreaming. Every time she had looked at him, he had felt like he was dreaming.
There wasn't a moment in particular that Remus could name when he realized he wanted her to look at him. He was in the middle of it before he even knew he had begun, though maybe a part of him had known it would have been futile to resist when she looked at him like that.
Or maybe it had been an accumulation of moments of Remus longing for her to look at him.
Maybe it had been when they had started their fourth study date together when Remus had decided he needed to act like a normal person and have strict boundaries instead of casting sidelong glances at her over the top of his book. He couldn't help but look at her as he tried to figure out why in the world a girl like her would ever agree to date him in the first place — he had only really asked so that he could be rejected and put the whole thing behind him.
But it wasn't his fault that the more glances he stole at her, the more he noticed the way her expression changed with each new story she read. It wasn't his fault that her lips parted when she was concentrating too hard on Ancient Runes. It wasn't his fault that her lips were the same color as his mother's tulips. But she never noticed when — or how — he looked at her, to his mingled relief and disappointment. It wasn't his fault at all, he reasoned — anyone would notice these things if they just looked at her properly. It baffled him a little how no one else seemed to have noticed this things about her yet.
It had been that day that Remus had decided he needed to start acting normal. He needed to learn how to control his eyes before he bore holes through her face. So he had focused on reviewing his Magical Theory textbook. Even though he had been rereading the same line for over five minutes. Even though he was so painfully aware that if he moved his leg out just slightly, his knees would knock against hers. Even though he could begin to feel her glancing up at him from across the table. When had he become so attuned to her gaze?
But he hadn't looked up, frustratingly going against every fiber in his body, because he needed to be normal and have boundaries and this was temporary. Even if she was looking at him like that. Remus Lupin, with his ever so strong willpower, hadn't looked up to meet her not-so-secret secret glances and had scribbled a note on his scrap of parchment and slid it over.
Hogsmeade this weekend?
Or maybe it had been when they had gone to Hogsmeade, the first time they had done anything together outside of studying. Asking her to go was a stroke of madness, but Remus had reasoned it to be a healthy show of their relationship, no matter how temporary it was supposed to be. It wouldn't make sense if they were dating and only ever studied together, right?
Right.
He had thought about sending an owl to cancel, even as he tried on Sirius's shirt for the second time — the night before, he had come to the sobering realization that all his clothes were plain. He had thought about telling her that he caught a cold, even as he let James slather Euphemia's silkifying potions through his hair. He had still been thinking about canceling even as his feet took him to the entrance gate—
—and she had been wearing a skirt.
It had been one of those long and flowy Muggle skirts — Remus had never before paid attention to women's fashion, but after that moment, he realized that maybe he ought to subscribe to one of Lily's Witch Weekly magazines so that he could get her more skirts, or rather, more of anything, he thought she'd look pretty in anything. Had he said pretty out loud?
Remus Lupin didn't have butterflies in his stomach, he had damn hummingbirds.
"Hi," he had said, a little too tersely and sharply.
"Hi," she had said back, all smiles. Despairingly, he had noticed that she was wearing lipstick. When he stared at her a little dumbly and didn't say anything back, her smile turned nervous as she fidgeted with the collar of her blouse. Impulsively, his eyes darted to follow the motion. "So... Hogsmeade?"
He wasn't going to tell her she looked pretty because he had laid out his boundaries. And if he started, he would never stop— "You look preautiful," he had blurted, stricken.
Her eyes had widened a fraction before she broke into a laugh. A proper laugh, not the quiet, library huff type of laughs he had grown fond of hearing. The warmth in his chest had spread all over and it had felt like it got to his head as a fog, rendering him unable to think. Remus had no idea what to do with the new, dizzying knowledge that she looked absurdly stunning when she was laughing, but all he could think about during their walk to Hogsmeade was how he might make her laugh again.
Or maybe it had been the first time he had properly introduced her to the Marauders. She had stepped closer to him instinctively — perhaps nervously, because Sirius was staring at her too appraisingly with narrowed eyes — when the back of her knuckles had brushed against his. Remus had nearly jumped out of his skin. Sirius's gaze had darted to him swiftly, his gray eyes knowingly bright with interest.
"Pleased to meet you," Sirius had said a moment later, his face breaking into a warm smile, but Remus wasn't paying attention anymore. He was just trying to figure out how he might hook his pinky with hers.
All this to say that there hadn't been one particular moment Remus Lupin could have pinpointed that had sealed his fate of wanting to be under her gaze.
The first time she looked at him, it was the start of nothing and when she looked away that night, it was the end of everything.
Remus wished she yelled at him. Hell, he even wished she had called him a monster, cursed him, hexed him. Remus thought that he would have been happier if she looked at him with contempt and disgust in her eyes, which only weeks ago had been his greatest fear when he considered telling her about his lycanthropy. The thought back then had kept him up at night, but Remus found himself dreaming for it now. Anything if it meant that he didn't hurt her the way he had. He found himself dreaming that she would just look at him again.
If Remus thought he had been panicked that night, it was nothing compared to the next day when he realized she was avoiding him. She hadn't shown up to the Great Hall — Remus knew this because he got there the moment the doors opened to make sure to catch her — and she didn't show up to any of their classes for the remainder of the day. The Marauder's Map showed that she was unmoving in her dormitory. When Remus finally did catch sight of her the next day in the Great Hall, he burst to his feet but froze a moment later. She walked past him, her expression one of unfamiliar blankness.
"Y/N!" He called, lurching forward towards her.
When she turned away from him to avoid meeting his gaze, Remus felt something like dismay sink so heavily and swiftly in his chest, like a stone thrown into a calm lake. The idea that Y/N wouldn’t look at him again drove him half-mad with a panicked disquietude that sent him scrambling to find a way to talk to her again. 
He tried in the Great Hall, but she stopped coming. She would arrive just late enough that class would start and would disappear the moment class ended. She stopped going to the library. Even with the Marauder's Map, he had no luck. The closer he tried to get to her, the further she stayed away.
Remus thought he was dreaming when he saw her alone in the corridor one Hogsmeade weekend when he couldn't bring himself to leave.
"Y/N," he said instinctively, hopefully. She looked up, her surprised expression immediately shuttering close. "Can we talk? Just for a moment?" He asked, stepping towards her. When she didn't move away, he straightened, encouraged.
“I know,” Remus began, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back the jolt of despair when he realized that she still wasn't looking at him. The despair only grew into a gnawing worry when he noticed the way shadows lined her eyes, the planes of her face hollower. Was she taking care of herself? "I know you don't want to see me anymore, cariad, but—"
"You don't get to call me that anymore."
He sucked in a breath, steeling himself before continuing. "Okay," he whispered, "Okay. I know. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I've never been more sorry in my life. And I won't ever ask you to forgive me. But, but I'm selfish because I want you to know that it was real for me."
She looked like she was folding in on herself as she clutched her forearms. "It wasn't real. You don't actually like me, Rem— Lupin," she said evenly, her tone neither cold nor warm. "It could have been anyone else."
"No, I do, I do," Remus lurched forward, desperate and earnest and wishing. "I like you, and maybe it wasn't real in the beginning, but it's real now. Like isn't even a strong enough word for how I feel about you, Y/N. I lo—"
"Don't." At the harsh steeliness of her tone, Remus froze, stricken, his heart dropping to his feet. "Don't say it."
"But it's true," he whispered entreatingly, imploring her to look at him again. "It's been true for awhile now."
"I don't believe you."
Each word hit him in the chest like a sharp pang, the stricken feeling in his chest clenching around his heart. "Okay," Remus swallowed back the crumpling sense of despair as he nodded earnestly. "That's okay," he whispered, as if not to spook a wild animal. "I... I'll show you." He had so much he wanted to say, so much that he wanted to show her. If he had been honest since the beginning, he wouldn't have hurt her. But maybe if he was honest now, it wasn't too late — he could still fix things. "You have my heart, Y/N," he continued softly, "—and you can break it, if you want, if you'll give me another chance—"
"I don't need it," she said quietly, looking away from him again. "Nor do I want it."
— — — — —
Remus stopped dreaming as he stopped sleeping.
"You should get some sleep tonight, mate," James said as he edged near his friend. "Full moon coming up."
Remus grunted in his response as he continued writing at his desk.
"Prongs is right," Sirius agreed, exchanging a quick look with the others. "She'll come around soon, anyone with eyes can see how you look at her. And how she looks at you."
"Why don't you talk to her again?" James suggested gently as he sat on the edge of Remus's bed.
"She doesn't want to," Remus said quietly, a blot of ink pooling at the end of his quill as he tried not to think about their last conversation.
"Why not write her a letter then?" Sirius asked. "Look, Moony, we're worried about you..."
A letter, Remus thought dimly as he stared down at the parchment in front of him.
Cariad, he began before setting his quill down to stare at the word. The first time he had called her cariad had been a slip of tongue. When he was younger, before his father had burnt himself out trying to find a cure to his lycanthropy, his father used to call his mother cariad. It was like a gentle period at the end of each sentence, an endearment that said everything all at once.
It had slipped into the end of his sentence one morning when he had asked her if she wanted orange juice or apple juice. Maybe it was too early to confess love, but it had slipped out, subtle and quiet like their time together.
"What's that?" She had asked, her attention now caught. "Car-iad," she said slowly, as she tried pronouncing the word carefully. Remus had thought he could have kissed her then.
"It's Welsh," he had said, keeping his tone light and casual as he reached for her cup.
But she had been as attentive as ever, her eyes seeing right through him as they tracked across his face carefully. It didn't help that he could feel his ears begin to burn. Despite himself though, Remus delighted being under her attention, and had relished it even as she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "For?"
Remus had schooled his expression carefully. "For 'Y/N can never pick between orange juice and apple juice,'" he had deadpanned, inwardly delighting in the way her lips twitched as she huffed, unconvinced.
"Today is an orange juice day," she had declared finally. Remus had bit back a smile as he poured her juice. When she took it, she had smiled at him around the rim of the cup. "Thank you, cariad."
Remus had thought that he was dreaming.
Remus picked up his quill again and got a fresh sheet of parchment. Dove, he began again before promptly crossing it out. A new piece of parchment. Y/N, he started again. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He missed saying her name. When the squeeze in his chest got too tight to ignore, he set his quill down and rested his forehead against his desk and closed his eyes. He had hurt her so terribly, the person he loved. And Remus resented himself for it. He didn't have the right to call her cariad or dove or darling or anything anymore. He didn't have the right to wallow in pity. He didn't have the right to try to fix things when she so clearly didn't want him anymore.
"Remus Lupin," a voice snapped sharply as the door to the dormitory flew open with a boom. "How could you—"
“Lily!” James blurted in clear alarm. "Lily, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here because you lot have really gone too far this time," Lily seethed, her eyes as fiery as her hair as she stalked into the room. "Remus, I thought you were better than this! Y/N hasn't—"
"Lily!" James jumped to his feet in a rare show of courage against the witch. He let out a nervous laugh, but to his credit, stood firm even as Lily rounded on him. “You’re making him feel worse!”
For a moment, Lily turned on James, an incredulous expression on her face before her gaze slid over to Remus, who still hadn’t looked up during the exchange. She faltered, her scowl softening as her gaze darted back to James who gave her an encouraging nod. But then the fiery-haired girl straightened. “He should feel bad,” she admonished, though the venom had begun to dissipate from her voice. 
“And he does,” Sirius supplied helpfully from his corner of the room. “Moony hasn’t really, er, moved or spoken in days, really. We’re all getting concerned.”
"Well neither has Y/N," Lily grumbled, though her tone was beginning to soften rapidly.
This caught his attention. Remus lifted his head to look at her. "Has she been taking care of herself?"
Lily narrowed her eyes at him, a crease forming between her brow as she looked at him assessingly. "Have you been taking care of yourself?"
Remus didn't say anything to this as he turned to rummage through his desk. "Will you make sure she eats and sleeps properly?" He said before finding the stack of parchment he had been looking for.
"It took me nearly an hour to get her to understand that I wasn't a part of the mess you had created," Lily said, though not harshly. Remus ignored the look of pity in her eyes as he busied himself with cobbling together a few more sheets of parchment. "I think you should be the one making sure she's alright."
At this, he paused to look down at the parchment. “She doesn’t want to be in the same room as me, let alone speak with me,” Remus pointed out, his voice unsteady. In a quieter voice, he added, “She can’t even stand looking at me.”
The room fell silent. Then finally, Lily spoke up again. "Fine. I'll check up on her but not for you, but because I'm her friend. And if you ever considered her at least a friend, you ought to do it too sometime and have a proper conversation with her."
Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he turned to proffer the stack of parchment to Lily. "Can you also give these notes to her? It's for Ancient Runes. I charmed the handwriting so she won't know it's from me, but—"
"Remus," Lily sighed, but took the notes anyways as she looked down at his desk curiously before sitting down on the edge of his bed. A pause. Remus could feel her eyes seeing right through him. "Were you ever going to tell her?"
Remus tried not to look like he was unraveling. "I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I wanted to and I didn't want to all at once all the time."
He had thought about telling her before. But to do so meant that he would have to tell her about his condition, and that had sent him into a stricken spiral every time he had thought about it. He had thought that if he told her, she would look at him differently, with pity or repulsion in her eyes. He had been so afraid, so, terrified, of that look that every time the truth nearly bubbled out of his throat, he'd choke on it. But now Remus knew that the worse thing wasn't that she would look at him like he was a monster. It was that she wouldn't look at him at all.
It had always felt like he was running on stolen time, but each grain of sand in their hourglass had felt so startling incandescent that it had been easy to pretend that they weren't trapped in a fragile glass of his own making.
Every moment he had thought to tell her, she would turn and look at him with such fond adoration that Remus would swallow the words back in. She always made for such an arresting sight that Remus felt his breath still as affection would bloom so violently, so dizzingly, so distractingly, in his chest that it became hard to say anything at all.
He was distracted by the way little crinkles would form on her nose when she was thinking too hard. He was distracted by the way he could hear her smile in her words. He was distracted by the way she breathed and walked and loved, slow and steady, to a silent metronome.
And the honest truth was that Remus was more than happy to be distracted by her.
— — — — —
When Remus woke up from a dreamless sleep the morning after the full moon, he found himself, predictably, in a bed in the Infirmary. It must have only been dawn — he could tell the room was still dim behind his eyelids as he did his mental check of his limbs. No new scars please, he thought wryly once he confirmed all his limbs were in place, albeit sore and strained. Remus sighed. Then came the more dreaded question.
"Did anyone get hurt?" He asked, his voice hoarse from his transformation.
He expected one of the boys to respond, but when no response came, his eyes flew open in a panic. They normally stayed the night in the Infirmary to get their checkup from Madam Pomfrey — Remus knew they were just there to keep him company, though they always deflected when he tried to usher them back to the dorms — and they were normally the first to assure him that no one had gotten hurt. Alarmed, Remus sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed hastily to look around, his joints groaning in protest.
"Are you hurt?" A voice next to him asked.
He was dreaming again.
Y/N was sitting in a chair next to his bed, alarm quickly breaking through the remnants of the sleepiness that clung onto her eyes as she scanned him hastily as if to ensure he was still in one piece. There was an imprint of his blanket on her cheek. Remus's fingers twitched to rub it when she spoke up again. "Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"
So it wasn't a dream.
At the sobering realization, Remus shook his head hastily. "No, I, uh, I'm fine," he said, the words faltering on his lips. Suddenly he felt very seen. He had never wanted her to see him after a transformation, especially not then, when he was all fresh scars and worn bones. He felt like a shell of himself. "What are you doing here?" He asked quietly, fixing his gaze on his hands and noticing a new scar across the back of his hand, still red and shallow. He couldn't quite look at her now as shame and mortification flooded his system.
For the first time in his life, he wished she wasn't looking at him.
"You guys normally come back earlier on full moons," she said, still looking at him. "I was worried that..." She fell silent. So she had even known their schedule, he despaired.
"I see," Remus said tightly, feeling drained.
When he didn't say anything else, she spoke up again tentatively. "Sirius told me to tell you that no one got hurt—"
Chagrin and shame roiled in his stomach as he stared at the new scar on his hand. "You can go back now," he interrupted, grasping the blanket tightly. He wished she wasn't looking at him, he wished that he didn't have a new scar, he wished that the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.
He wished this was all just a bad dream.
"I'll go if you want me to go," she said quietly. Remus couldn't tell what expression she was making because he couldn't bare to look at her. Pity, fear, disgust. He was sure he'd never recover if she was looking at him like that— "But I... I don't want to go."
His gaze darted from his hands to her face. She was biting on the inside of her cheek, her eyes wide and imploring and distracting. Slowly, it became easy to breathe again. The imprint of the blanket was fading from her cheek. Remus still wanted to rub it off.
"Okay," he acquiesced, the word coming out as a soft breath. She relaxed back into the chair. "I never wanted you to see me like this," he murmured quietly, feeling all too cracked open under her gaze.
"Remus," she began, also whispering as if not to break the fragile peace between them. His heart stuttered dangerously at the sound of his name from her lips, but he shouldered forward, adamant to not let himself start dreaming again.
"Have you... been well?" Remus asked, first as a deflection before he took in the shadows on her face. It was like once he started, he couldn't stop. "Have you been eating properly and sleeping enough—"
"Remus," she said again, this time more urgently and softly. "I got your letters."
Remus paused, his dry throat clicking as he swallowed. "So you knew the notes were from me," he murmured, rubbing at the base of his neck. "Sorry, I thought they would help, but I'll stop if you're uncomfortable—"
"No, I mean, I got your letters," she said, reaching into her book bag.
To his horror, she pulled out a stack of parchment. Some of them had were heavily creased from being balled up, but someone had carefully straightened them and piled them up. "You weren't supposed to see those," he blurted, mortified now. "I threw those away."
"I know," she said, her gaze fixed on the letters. They weren't really letters at all — he had never been able to get past how to address her. He could catch glimpses of his chicken scratch handwriting. Y/N. Dove. My sweet girl. Cariad. My love. Cariad. Cariad. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. "Lily gave them to me. She also gave me this—" Carefully, Y/N pulled another familiar piece of parchment from her bag. This one was filled and messy with different colored inks across time.
Remus's mouth went dry. He didn't need to look at it to know what it was because he had it memorized.
Ketchup and pepper with eggs (prefers sunny-side up)
Three younger brothers
Likes mum's knitted sweater the most -> owl mum how she did it??
No favorite color, but it's probably green and yellow??
Needs a midday nap most days
Likes long skirts (or is it because I complimented it?)
Y/N is Sisyphus and the question of orange juice or apple juice is the rock
Peonies
Chocolate frogs (non-jumping)
Always needs hair ties -> ask Lily if Hogsmeade has any
Tea = 3 sugars, lots of milk (prefers juice though)
Give notes for Ancient Runes
Find out if there are hair tying charms
Jane Austen
Christmas ideas: skirts, cat, necklace, journal, hair ties
"You weren't supposed to see that," he said again dumbly.
"I know," she said again. A pause. "I believe you."
Remus's head snapped up to see that she was looking at him. He was dreaming again. He shook himself out of it. "No, you don't have to," he said hastily.
"No, Remus, I believe you that it was real," she said, her words choppy as she wrung her hands together. He wanted to reach out and cover her hand with his but instead he sat perfectly still. "But I— But I was so hurt by you," she whispered.
"I'm so sorry," he said with every fiber of his being. "I was afraid and selfish and I hurt you and there's no forgiving that."
"But Remus," she said, looking up at him finally. "I've missed you. I miss you so much and I don't know what to do—" Her voice cracked. Remus felt like something in him cracked open again.
"Oh, cariad," he breathed. "Can I—" He faltered, but miraculously, she picked up on what he meant. Wordlessly, she surged into his arms and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," he murmured into her hair as he breathed in her familiar scent. "If... if you'll have me again, can we start over?"
"Only if it's for real this time," she mumbled into his shoulder with a dry huff of a laugh as she clutched him back. God, he missed her laugh.
He pressed a kiss against her temple, the first of many. "It's real. Very real."
Remus prayed he wasn't dreaming anymore.
— — — — —
a/n: thanks for reading :^) would love to hear thoughts! my masterlist here
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absurdthirst · 6 months
Text
High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.1k
Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex
Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.
Co-written with @pedropascalsx
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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.
The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.
Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.
The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar. 
The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him? 
After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.
****
Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.” 
“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.
“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.” 
Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door. 
“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.” 
The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.
“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”
“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.
You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.” 
Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.
Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.” 
Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.
You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”
Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”
“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”
He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.
“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’
“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”
“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”
Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”
“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”
“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”
“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”
“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”
He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.
“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”
“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”
“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”
Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”
“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”
He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.
“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.
****
Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.
“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”
“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”
“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”
“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”
“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”
He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”
“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”
Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.
“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.
“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”
“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”
“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.
“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”
Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.
The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.
“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”
“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.” 
“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”
“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”
Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”
“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”
He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”
“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”
“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”
Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”
“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”
“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”
“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”
“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.
“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.
“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”
He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”
“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”
“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.
“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”
“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.
“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”
“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”
“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.
“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.
“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”
You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”
“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”
“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.
****
“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.
“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”
“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”
“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”
“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”
“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.
“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”
“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.
“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door. 
“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes. 
“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.” 
“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.” 
“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”
“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”
Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.
Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs. 
You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening. 
‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’
Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’ 
You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’
Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’
‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’
‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.
‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.
****
The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.
You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.
Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”
“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”
“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”
“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”
“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”
“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”
“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.
“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.
“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.
“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”
“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.
“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”
“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.
“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is. 
“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”
“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”
“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”
“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”
“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”
“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”
“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.
“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.
“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”
“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”
“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.” 
Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”
You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.
****
The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”
“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.
Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”
“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”
“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.
****
“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast. 
“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink. 
“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.
Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.
You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.
Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”
“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night. 
“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”
The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.
“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”
“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”
Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”
“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”
Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.
You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard. 
‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”
“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”
He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.
You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look”  around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.
“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”
Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”
“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”
“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”
“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones. 
‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it. 
Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”
Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”
You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys. 
“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.
Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”
“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.
“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”
He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”
“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.
“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”
“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.
Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”
“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”
“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.” 
Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"
“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”
“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”
You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him. 
“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”
You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.
“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.
Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.
You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.
Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”
Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.
“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”
You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”
Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.
“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”
“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”
“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.
"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."
“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”
"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."
“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.
“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.
“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.
He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.
You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.
Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.
With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.
Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.
It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.
Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.
“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”
“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.
“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”
“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.
“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.
Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”
Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.
He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.
You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”
The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.
You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”
“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”
“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.
He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.
It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.
His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.
“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"
“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.
"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."
“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.
You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.
With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.
One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”
You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.
Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.
“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.
There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.
The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”
“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.
With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress. 
Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.
“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.
“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.
“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”
Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.
You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.
“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”
“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”
Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.
“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.
“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.
You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.
Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”
You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”
“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back. 
“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”
“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”
You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.
He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.
“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.
“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.” 
“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”
“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”
“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”
“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”
“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.
“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”
“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”
“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”
“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.
“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.
“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.
Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.
****
[A year later]
Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.
He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.
The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more. 
It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.
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Omi gosh I fell for your Adam post instantly!
What about him after getting trapped in hell or something, he gets to meet a sweet fallen angel??
Like, she was so concerned because she knew how bad it felt to be damned to hell and falling from grace so she did her best to make him feel better!
(They're both unaware that they'll be smitten with eachother in the future and would have matching wedding rings)
hhh fallen adam and fallen reader tearing my hair out (lovingly) this is the inspo for adams look! EDIT: I GOT THE ARTIST!!!! ARTIST IS SCOUT_ISH IN TWT!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH HUNTERS-TRASHBLOG FOR TELLING ME!!!! also reader will be slightly thicker/implied to be chubby!! but other than that, everything is kept ambigous so you can imagine yourself!! adam 4 the chubbies teehee
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Bewitched | Adam x Fem! Reader
Relationship: Romantic Warnings: None!
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Adam grimaced as he looked at himself through a broken piece of mirror. Long gone was the golden halo, now replaced with horns that mimicked his exorcist horns. His handsome face was no longer human, now looking like his mask. When he first arrived, he thought it was one, and tried with all his might to remove it, his face being a different color than his maroon body. The realization that this was his body now dawned upon him in the moments afterward. He turned to look at his back, knowing that under his shirt were stubs, stubs where his once golden wings were. Instead of wings, he had a tail, similar in color to the rest of his body. Overall, Adam hated his new look.
He knew that no matter how much he looked at himself or avoided his gaze, he would still look the same. The truth of his reality that he kept running from, he was the very thing that he hated, he hunted, he killed. He was now a sinner. Fallen from grace, no longer in favor of the heavens. Truly left with no hope of ever being in God's good graces. This was the harshest truth Adam had ever faced, and it hurt more than his fall and even more than his wives leaving him. He didn’t know how to comprehend it at first, all his death, which was far longer than his life, he had only ever known Heaven. 
He didn’t know what to do with his afterlife now. Not to say he was put together in Heaven, but after his divorce from Eve things never really improved; But now that he was in the same place as the people he saw below him? That fact alone wasn’t making things better. His first few days in Hell were spent with him licking his wounds, and gathering his thoughts. Adam couldn’t keep to himself forever, returning to the same alleyway that he was calling his temporary home. But where would he go? He knew he wouldn’t survive this place, especially if the sinners found out he was the one who led the exterminations. Which led him to the one place he had been avoiding since his fall. 
The Hazbin Hotel.
He couldn’t return after he was the reason why the place was destroyed and why they no longer had a friend. But nowhere else was safe enough for him to run to. He was snapped out of his thoughts at a can being kicked. He turned to the sound and saw you. 
Adam felt his breath catch as his heart stopped. The mere sight of you made it seem like he was back at heaven gate, that warm feeling of the sun against his skin as angels sang him his welcome. You glowed in a place that seemed to thrive on the depravity and sin of humans. Your natural hair framed your face in a way that he felt that if there was a halo, you would be otherworldly. You were full in all the right places, with the tummy to show it was real. You were dressed pretty modestly, which was odd in a place of debauchery, but not too much to seem like a prude. Your eyes were warm, with golden specks in them, almost as if you were from heaven. Once Adam realized that he was ogling a sinner, he snapped back and tried to glare at you.
“What do you want?” He snarls. He sees that you flinch back, and at that moment he begins to soften but keeps his tone. You look him over, and no matter what he tells himself, he knows that you aren’t doing it to be judgy. You have this look of concern on your face as you take in his form. He scoots back away from you, unsure why you are staring at him as you are. 
“How long ago did you fall?” You ask, catching him off guard. Questions begin to swirl in his mind as he looks at you dumbly. How did you know he was from heaven? Did you see the battle? Did you know who he was? How did you know he fell? Thoughts swirling in his head, Adam couldn’t even ask you all of them. “Ah, it must have just happened. Sorry, didn’t mean to scratch at a new wound.”
“How did you know?” was all Adam could ask. You give him a small smile before you turn. With you back to Adam, he takes a brief moment to look at your ass before looking at what you were showing him. It was a pair of wings, with some stubs under your main pair. Adam’s breath hitches as he sees that the stubs are healed as if they had been that way for years. Knowing that he got his answer, you turn back around and give him a sad smile. Now new questions form in his head, starting with what you asked him. “How long ago did you fall?”
“Hm…A long time ago.” You say, shifting slightly as your wings retract. Adam nods as he takes in that he wouldn’t be the second-ever angel to fall. It made him feel less alone and relieved that he didn’t have to relate to Lucifer on something. You clear your throat causing him to look at you. “You don’t seem to have a place to stay…looking at the sight of this…alleyway. I could take you somewhere.” 
You reach out your hand for him to take, which he does. You lead him somewhere as you both make idle chatter. Throughout the walk, Adam couldn’t scratch the feeling that he knew you. This strange feeling of deja vu washed over him as he tried to realize where he knew you from. 
Unbeknownst to him, you knew exactly who he was. He was the first man and the first ever to enter heaven. You never got to meet him, having fallen by the time of his death for covering for Lillith and Lucifer. A part of you felt guilty, having hidden the first-ever affair. However, you wouldn’t trade it for the chance to stay in Heaven, knowing that you would get your niece Charlie. Not hiding the fact that it still haunted you, you saw this opportunity as a way to amends for hiding the betrayal. As you led him to the Hotel, you couldn’t think of how you would one day tell him how you knew him, however, you decided to focus on getting back on his feet. 
You talked about how hell is, not aware of Adam behind you slowing down. You felt his hand leaving your own, look behind you, and see him with this look you cannot describe. He was looking down at your hand and then his own. You walk towards him and wave your hand in front of him, causing him to lift his head to look at yours. 
“Is everything okay?” You ask, concerned. He doesn’t say anything as he nods. 
“Yeah…sorry. Thought I saw something. You were saying?” He says, shaking his head and grabbing your hand. You flush and turn away, before continuing to talk and lead him to the Hotel. 
What Adam had sworn he had seen was the formation of a little red string going pure white before disappearing. 
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In the OG writing reader was going to be in lvoe with adam alr but it didn't make sense so i scrapped it teehee
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Lucky Break Chapter 5
Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader
4.6k words
Beginning / Previous / Next (to be written)
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A partial night of rest did little for you. Your head was still killing you, and the dreamless, fleeting sleep did nothing to aid in jogging your far away memories. 
Nami was kind enough to let you stay in her boat for the rest of night, and you were still on it this morning. You didn't feel confident in your ability to cross boats again now that the wind had picked up and the waters were slightly rougher. The last thing you wanted was to fall into the ocean again right after getting a change of clothes. 
You watched with mild amusement as Nami and Luffy bickered about the Grand Line. Well, Nami was bickering. Luffy was dismissing everything. 
“How do you expect to so much as make it into the Grand Line as you are? You have no supplies, no ship, and only two people. You're even more insane than I thought you were if you think that's a good idea.” Nami returned her attention to the map in her hands, muttering under her breath about pirates being a nuisance.
Luffy shoved the rest of the apple he was eating into his mouth, core and all. Cyanide poisoning be damned. He did appear to at least be taking her words into consideration, which was an improvement. “Yeah, we're going to have to get some meat before we go.” 
You snort at the exasperated look Nami shoots him. Of course that was what he was hung up on. Luffy cooked his head to the side, “And what do you mean I only have two people? There's four of us.”
“I am not a part of your crew, this is just a temporary alliance. I'm not about to sail into the Grand Line with anybody, much less someone as in over their head as you are.” Nami pointed at you, “And Lucky doesn't count. She doesn't even remember her name, what are you expecting her to do?”
“What's that got to do with anything? She doesn't need to remember her name to be my crewmate.”
“She's got a gaping head wound! She needs to see a doctor, not get dragged into the most dangerous place on the planet by a delusional captain!” Nami picked up and chucked an apple at his head. An extremely ineffective attack given that he just opened his mouth and ate it whole like some sort of snake-person.
“Maybe we'll find a doctor on the next island, and then she’ll be good to go.” Luffy perked up, “Are we getting close to one yet? I want to get some food.”
The navigator's eyes flitted back down to the map. She still looked annoyed but answered his question, “Yes, we should be at the Gecko Islands soon.”
Luffy cheered and whirled around on his perch to stare into the distance. You followed his gaze and saw a speck of an island in the distance. Being on solid ground again sounded lovely. The unsteadiness of being on a constantly rocking boat felt extremely unnatural to you. Based on that, you felt safe in assuming that you had never spent a prolonged period of time at sea before this. 
And of course, you were looking forward to the possibility of seeing a doctor and having your injury inspected and cared for by a professional. Zoro definitely needed to see a doctor, too, what with his stab wound. 
Though, as you glanced at him, he appeared to be entirely unbothered. The only thing that even hinted at what had happened was the hole and bloodstain in his shirt. Other than that, he seemed fine. Shit, maybe he can sleep off stab wounds. If only you could do the same for your injury.
Luffy kicked his legs in excitement as the island drew closer. “We can get supplies here, and maybe even a new ship! Oh! We might even get some new crewmates! We're going to need a cook before we get to the Grand Line. And a musician.”
Having a cook around made sense, though you were more than a little baffled at him prioritizing a musician over a doctor. Well, whatever. He’s the captain, not you. He can recruit whoever he wants, and you’re sure that he will. Especially considering how much he’s been brushing off Nami stating that she isn’t a part of the crew.
The two boats hit sand as you finally make it to the island. You’re at some empty beach far away from the docks. Nami insisted that this would be for the best considering that her ship has Buggy’s jolly roger plastered over the sail. You jump off the ship and help pull them further onto the beach to prevent them from drifting away.
Being on solid land feels just as good as you had expected. The sand has a give to it, of course, but it isn’t constantly rocking back and forth. You stretch as you scan your surroundings. The beach is boxed in by cliffs, with a manmade walkway leading into a lightly packed forest that helps to hide your ships further. Someone would have to go out of their way to find you guys here.
“The village isn’t far from here, right?” Luffy was looking around excitedly, no doubt eager for a chance to stretch his legs. You were, too. The island appears to be normal and peaceful. It’ll be nice to explore a town without a bunch of pirates in it… you guys notwithstanding, of course. 
“Yes, it shouldn’t take long to get there,” Nami answered passively while scrutinizing the map in her hands. “I wonder where we could find a ship.”
“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s find a place to eat first!” Luffy was actively drooling as he spoke. You’re not sure how anyone can be so hungry after eating what you’re pretty sure was in the ballpark of twenty apples, but you aren’t about to try and get between him and food.
Nami pushed him out of her face harshly, “Would you stop talking about food for five seconds?!”
Your attention was drawn away from them as you saw movement up on the cliffs. You squint and see several bushes rustling from what you’re assuming is some local wildlife. Zoro unsheaths a sword behind you and steps forward.
“Careful… I think we have company.”
That catches everyone’s attention. Nami tenses and steps back while scanning the forest herself, while Luffy is visibly excited about whoever could possibly be here. To you, Zoro seems to be over reacting. It’s more than likely just some animals running around, you’re not sure why he’s instantly jumping to this being an ambush or something.
Then someone starts shooting at Luffy’s feet. Perhaps Zoro was onto something. He scrambles to get out of the way while Zoro rushes forward to help. Before you even have a chance to react, Nami grabs you by the collar of your shirt and drags you back to the boat before shoving you into it and climbing in beside you to take cover. You cough and gasp as she releases your shirt.
The attack stops, so you and Nami peer over the side of the ship to see what’s going on. Luffy and Zoro appear to be fine, thankfully, but now a bunch of flags are popping out of the bushes. All of them have the same jolly roger on them. Ah. So much for you thinking that this island was pirate-free. You just hope none of them have any weird-ass super powers to contend with.
This display does nothing to intimidate Luffy, who by all accounts seems to be having a grand time watching this. A boy suddenly emerges from behind a tree, looking extremely pleased with himself. Some of the tension leaves your body as you are distracted by the fact that this kid has the longest damn nose you’ve ever seen. You didn’t think that was physically possible. You shake your head, reminding yourself that now is not the time to be getting distracted by appearances.
Long-nose crosses his arms and puffs out his chest proudly. “I am Captain Usopp! Leader of the pirates who reign over this village! I’ll have you know that everyone here fears me as much as they sing my praise! Which is a lot!” He gestures behind himself with a dramatic flare, “Go ahead and forget about attacking this village, it’s under my control! Me and my eighty million subordinates won’t let you get far!”
Eighty… Eighty million? You and Nami share a sideways glance at each other. That seems… a touch far fetched. The island doesn’t appear big enough to hold even one million people, much less eighty million plus the villagers. Now that you think about it, It’s odd that he didn’t name drop his crew. He just called them “the pirates”. You let out a sigh and slump against the boat, relieved that this appears to just be some display rather than a real threat. Nami pinches the bridge of her nose, looking annoyed more than anything, and Zoro puts his sword away with a huff.
Luffy, meanwhile, is star-struck. 
“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” Nami calls out to him.
Usopp gasps, stumbling back in shock, “How did you know?!”
Nami rolls her eyes, “And now you’re admitting to it this easily? You’re terrible at this.” She climbs back out of the boat, and you’re quick to follow suit. You glance up the cliff to see Usopp beating himself up for failing miserably at his intimidation attempt. 
He whips back around to face all of you again, trying desperately to save face. “Well, maybe I was exaggerating a little bit, but I can assure you that I do have some very powerful men at my disposal!” He points at a cluster of bushes not far from him. Unlike the rest of the flags, the ones coming out of the bushes were moving, implying the presence of at least a few people. 
Still, those bushes weren’t particularly huge. You can’t imagine that there were that many people hiding in them. You squint, “What? Like three people?”
The literal second you say this, precisely three people spring out of the bushes looking aghast at your accurate prediction. These “powerful men” looked to be a bunch of kindergarteners, who screamed in terror and ran away immediately while Usopp yelled after them not to leave him here alone. Another impressive victory under your sword-belt, you suppose.
Luffy looks at you in awe, “How did you know?”
All you offer him is a simple shrug and say, “Lucky guess?”
Nami sifts through the sand and pulls out some tiny pellets. She examines them with absolutely no sense of urgency. “Huh. I’ve never seen a pirate captain use a slingshot before.”
Usopp gasps and clutches his chest in offense, “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t insult me!” He pulls a slingshot from his bag and takes aim at her. Nami stares at him blankly. “I have a lot of pride in my weapon! So much so that people call me ‘Proud Usopp’!”
You’ll give him this much: he doesn’t abandon the bit easily. You call out to him, “By people, do you mean yourself?”
Now Nami’s comment didn’t seem all that bad to him. Usopp changed positions to aim at you instead, “Many people call me that! In fact, they call me ‘Proud Usopp’ more than ‘Captain Usopp’ because they’re that impressed by my pride!” He pulls the leather pad holding another pellet back further. “Behold! You’re about to see that my slingshot skills can put a pistol to shame!”
Given how many other things he’s lied about or exaggerated greatly, you aren’t scared. The pellets that he shot at Luffy had some oomph to them, sure, but comparing them to bullets fired from a gun seems excessive. Getting pelted by some pellets is hardly going to be the worst injury you’ve endured.
Before Usopp can decide if he really wants to fire at you or not, Luffy steps in front of you with the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes. His voice drops to a surprisingly low tone as he addresses Usopp seriously for the first time, “Now that you’ve drawn your “pistol”, you’ve put your life on the line.”
Both you and Usopp gawk at Luffy. Usopp was clearly scared by the sudden mood shift, and even you felt a chill run down your spine. You’re so used to seeing Luffy be carefree and goofy that hearing him openly threaten someone in a genuinely intimidating fashion has completely thrown you for a loop. On top of that, you feel confused. Nothing about this scenario feels heavy enough to warrant this kind of a response.
“You don’t use those to threaten people.” Luffy makes a show of loudly cracking his knuckles while maintaining intense eye contact with Usopp, who is now looking like he’s really regretting his previous actions.
Zoro grinned and stepped forward, just barely unsheathing a sword, “You’re dealing with real pirates now… Are you prepared for that?”
This is escalating quickly. You lean over to Nami and whisper, “Should we stop them?” 
Nami did not share your concern. She examined her nails, barely even sparing you a glance, “No. He’ll lose his nerve before it gets to that.”
For a long, tense moment, there is silence as Usopp is stared down by Luffy and Zoro. Then, just as Nami predicted, he caved. The pellet slipped out of the slingshot and onto the ground. Usopp fell to his knees immediately after, looking thoroughly shaken up from the exchange. His hand clutched his chest as he muttered about how much scarier the words of real pirates are.
Mercifully, the tension dissipated instantly. Luffy dropped the disconcertingly serious look from his face and laughed loudly. “I stole that from Shanks! Your dad is Yassop, right?”
Usopp reels back at that question. “You know Shanks?! Wait- You know my dad?!” He clambers forward, but he isn’t paying attention and tumbles right over the side of the cliff. He rolls the whole way down, landing ass-first at the bottom. You wince, swearing that you felt some of that. The fall does little to deter Usopp, who quickly gets to his feet and stumbles closer to Luffy. “Yassop is my dad, but how did you know that?”
Luffy opens his mouth to answer, then stops abruptly. “I’ll tell you, but you have to take us to the nearest place to get food first.”
The deal was immediately accepted by Usopp, who nodded eagerly, “There’s a tavern not far from here, I’ll show you the way!”
Luffy followed close behind, cheering at the promise of food. How he intended to pay for it, you weren’t entirely sure, but who were you to ruin his excitement? No one else seemed concerned about the financials of this meal, so you suppose you shouldn’t be either.
Zoro casually trails behind Usopp and Luffy, while you and Nami were at the back. You two walked in silence while you mulled over something. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard the name Shanks. You can recall hearing the name thrown around while Luffy was duking it out with the clown-guy… Bucky? Boogie? You shake your head. That doesn’t matter.
Was Shanks someone important? Or was he coming up a lot purely through a series of coincidences? The name wasn’t ringing any bells for you, but given that you couldn’t remember your own name, that really wasn’t saying much. There’s only one way to find out the truth about him.
“Hey, Nami?” You wait for her to glance your way, acknowledging your inquiring tone. “Who’s Shanks?”
Her eyes widened, “You don’t know who Shanks is?”
You raise a hand and tap near your head wound, only to flinch at the pang of pain that shot through your head from that action. Oh, that was stupid. 
Nami sighs, “You really don’t remember anything if you don’t even recognize his name.” Her face turns to a sneer, “He’s some bigshot pirate that’s worked his way up to being an emperor.”
The answer only served to confuse you more. “Emperor? What does piracy have to do with being one of those?”
“It’s just a title, he isn’t a literal emperor.” She waves her hand dismissively, “Don’t think about it too much. The less you know about pirates, the better.”
Aren’t you kind of a pirate now? At least by association. Not to mention that you’re traveling with two of them. Something tells you that Nami wouldn’t care for you pointing that out, so you continue to walk beside her in silence.
A large wooden sign with the words “Syrup Village” is sticking out of the ground once you’ve walked through the small forest. The village itself was small and quaint, possessing a sort of rustic charm that made it feel homey even if you've never been here before. Unlike Orange Town, this place was clearly populated. The local villagers milled about, going about their daily routines. It was a pleasant change of pace. 
Usopp beckoned all of you into a small tavern. There weren't any customers inside, just an elderly man sitting behind a counter, and what sounds like a small staff in the kitchen. 
“I have a lot of influence here. Go on and take a seat, I can handle the rest.” Usopp hurried over to the old man and started giving him some spiel about how you guys were a part of his crew, and thus, deserved only the best. The old man didn't even look up from his newspaper, but was nodding along anyway.
Nami picked out a booth for you all to sit at. Zoro slid in next to her, while you sat at the bench across from them. You glanced over to see Luffy sticking his head into the kitchen, apparently having not listened when Usopp insisted on handling everything. He was demanding an obscene amount of food, more than you thought all of you could reasonably eat in a week, much less one sitting.
As soon as he was done ordering enough food to make it feel like its own lunch rush, he bounded over to your booth and plopped onto the bench next to you, visibly elated. Usopp joined a moment later, dragging over a chair so he could sit at the head of the table. 
“So, how do you know my dad?” Usopp was staring at Luffy expectantly. 
Luffy perked up, “Oh, right. He was a part of Shanks’ crew, I saw him a lot growing up.”
Usopp's jaw dropped. “He's a part of Shanks’ crew?!” He kicked his legs under the table, a dreamy look on his face, “So that's where he's been.”
You quirked a brow at that statement. He didn't know where his own dad was? Did they never see each other? Or at least talk once in a while? You're surprised he doesn't look more bitter about it. You think that you would be if you were him. 
There's a pang in your head, and your eyes go fuzzy for a moment. It's a sharp pain right behind your eyes. You put your face in your hands and massage your temples, trying to will away the pain and cloudy vision. 
You're startled slightly when you feel someone lightly kick you under the table. You pull your face from your hands only to find Zoro staring at you questioningly from across the table. 
“Everything alright?” His face was casual, so much so that it could be mistaken for disinterested, but it felt like his eyes were staring into you.
“I'm fine, I'm just… hungry.” Complaining about a headache felt childish, so you kept it to yourself. These people are being needlessly kind to you, you don't want to start annoying them and risk making them change their mind. 
Zoro stares at you hard, and you get the impression that he doesn't believe you. He sighs and brings a pint of beer up to his mouth, “Well you better eat something quickly before Luffy gets it all.”
Hang on. You look at the table and finally take notice of the drinks and plates of food on it. When did these get here? You thought you only had your head in your hands for a few seconds… how did you not even hear the dishes being set down?
You really need to see a doctor. 
A plate of food and some water are slid to you by Zoro, who apparently thought you were taking too long to make a move. You mutter a quiet thanks and gulp down some water before digging into the food. Hopefully having something of substance in your stomach would make you feel better. 
Something was tickling at the back of your mind, but not clearly enough for you to make anything of it. The faintest whisper of a voice and a bizarre feeling of empty loneliness hung over you despite being surrounded by people. The responsible thing to do would be to focus on the essence of a memory that was trapped beneath the surface of your mind, begging to come forth. You should be trying to bring it to the front and realize it for what it was. But… apparently the person you're supposed to be isn't one for responsibility. You shove more food into your mouth and push the thought down. That memory didn't feel very pleasant. You try to focus on what’s going on around you instead of that.
The table is lively, unlike your foggy mind. Luffy is happily recounting childhood memories of Yassop while Usopp hangs onto every word of it, completely rapt in the stories. Luffy is also choking down an obscene amount of food at a cornering rate. You're not sure he's even chewing any of it given how fast he keeps going back for more. No wonder Zoro was insistent on you eating sooner rather than later. Another minute of hesitation and you would have been shit out of luck.
Nami finishes the rest of her drink and levels Usopp with a stare, “Say, you wouldn't happen to know where we could get a ship around these parts, would you?”
“A ship?” Usopp hums in thought for a moment, then stiffens up. “I wouldn't know anything about where to get one of those. This is a small village. We don't even have many ships passing through, much less up for grabs.”
“What about the people living in that mansion up on the hill?” Zoro nodded his head in the direction of it. The large home was in clear view from where all of you were seated. “Surely someone in a house like that has at least a few caravels at their disposal. Maybe more.”
Dishes clatter on the table as Usopp abruptly stands up and slams his hands down. “You can't go there!” His shout and sudden mood change startles everyone. Just as quickly as he became upset, his face dropped into a more bashful look. “Oh, would you look at the time! I have very important business to tend to, bye!” And with that, he sprinted out of the building, only reappearing briefly as he sped past the window. 
What was that all about?
Nami sighed sharply. “What's got him so worked up? He ran out of here so fast that I just barely managed to grab this,” she held up a small, leather wallet. 
“Nami!” You attempted to scold her, but the smug look on her face told you that your words meant nothing. 
“What? He said he'd take care of everything, and that includes paying the bill. I'm just ensuring that he keeps his word, that's all.” Nami barely even glances at you before opening it up and counting the money. Based on the way her face contorts, you're guessing that it isn't as much as she was hoping for. 
Luffy didn't appear to be even slightly concerned about that. He was happily licking the plates clean. Including yours, which was a little weird, but whatever. Not gonna ruin your day. 
When you hear the door to the tavern open again, you don't think much of it. It's not until some little kids storm up to your table wielding wooden toy swords that you decide to pay attention. It dawns on you that these are the same kids you scared away earlier at the beach.
“W-What did you do with our captain?!” The boy with green hair asks the question as if he is already assuming the worst. All of the kids are shaking like chihuahuas while trying to act tough. 
“Man, I'm full! That was some really good meat!” Luffy flopped against your shoulder heavily, having apparently finally satiated his massive appetite. The boys stared at him in abject horror.
“Your captain?” Zoro's once neutral face curled up into a surprisingly sinister grin. He leaned forward, making the children almost trip over each other to back away. “We ate him.”
The children grew deathly pale, screamed, then promptly fainted into a heap on the floor. 
“Zoro!” You kept switching between looking at the incapacitated children and the swordsman. “Why would you say that?!” 
All that he does is chuckle, looking awfully proud of himself for terrorizing some little kids. Luffy is laughing loudly at the whole spectacle, and Nami is staring at both of them incredulously but also not doing anything about it. You huff and climb over Luffy to check on the boys. While they do look horrified, even in their unconscious state, they appear to be fine physically speaking. You glare at Zoro, “That was mean.”
Your attempt at scolding is once again entirely ineffective. He waves his hand dismissively and downs the rest of his pint, “It was just a joke. If they want to be pirates then they should be able to handle it.”
“They’re little kids. They probably want to be something different every week.” There will definitely be a change next week after having a run in with what they believe to be cannibalistic pirates. You crouch down beside them, shaking one of them gently in hopes of waking him up. He starts to stir and cracks open his eyes behind his glasses. He blinks a couple of times, then focuses on you. For a moment, he stares at you dully. Then his eyes snap open wide and he yelps as he scrambles backwards.
“Calm down! I’m not going to hurt you,” you hold up your hands like you’re dealing with a scared animal.
This does nothing to quell his fears. He tries to get to his feet quickly, and you don’t have a chance to warn him before he cracks his head on the table he clearly didn’t realize he was under. Once again, he falls to the floor unconscious.
“Oh, shit!” You curse and scramble over to him, wanting to check and make sure he isn’t now suffering the same kind of brain damage you’ve got. You lift him up to get a better look at his head, when you hear dramatic gasps.
“She’s got Tamanegi! They’re going to eat him next!” The other boys have woken up and are back to hysterics.
“NO! No one is getting eaten!” You glare at your crew that is doing nothing to help and is instead laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Would one of you help me here?!”
Zoro laughs loudly at your demand, “No, it looks like you’ve got it covered.”
You can’t believe these are the people you’re stuck with.
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