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#V; Maybe I've Had One Too Many
starlitwishes · 5 months
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Call my name, and save me from the dark...
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isegmenti · 8 months
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((Tag Dump for these monsters--))
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fideidefenswhore · 2 years
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Consideration for the Princess Mary is thought to have been one of Jane's uppermost [concerns] as she moved into her role as consort, but whether it was simply political or indeed sincere is another question. She apparently approached the subject with Henry just prior to Anne's arrest: 'Mistress Semel [...] suggested that the princess should be placed in her former position; and the king told her she was a fool, and ought to  solicit the advancement of the children they would have between them, and not any others. She replied that in asking for the restoration of the Princess she conceived she was seeking the rest and tranquility of the king, herself, her future children and the whole realm; for, without that, neither [Charles V] nor [the English] people would ever be content.' Her concern for Mary may [well] have been genuine, but her timing was impeccable. She safely voiced her concern surrounded by her family and friends at court who opposed the Boleyns. What is interesting in this exchange is the speculation of Jane's motives, combined with the king's reaction: he defined the role he expected her to fit into, in this case, he gave clear indication that she should concern herself with the business of the children she would have with him, not any other. Politics aside, she was expected to produce an heir and focus her attention on the dynastic issue of her future family. At the very least, Henry had convinced himself that there would be children between them and sought to remove her from any central political role to that of consort and mother. Jane was a hope for the future, but Henry set out immediately placing a definition on where her concerns should be and what his expectations obviously were.
Jane, The Quene (Pamela M. Gross)
#the 'them and not any others' would suggest he already had a firmly set mind for how the near-future parliamentary succession act was#going to shape out#also. there wasn't a coup against edward vi. so it would seem she was ; actually; wrong (something not brought up much)#(at least in regards to her future children; that is)#and. frankly. in regards to charles v as well. charles v made an alliance with henry without that. henry well had the measure of that.#(one kind of wonders if her own source for that was chapuys himself. or one of his points of connection/ sources at court thirdhand )#although if his reign had been longer#...who is to say. maybe there would have been one backed by mary. but i think the idea of mary is that she honored henry viii's final#succession act/ will too much to have ever done that (which...eh. she did and she didn't. she certainly didn't wed with parliament's#consent. so)#nor keep her status unchanged re: legitimacy#i don't really believe in weir's theory but the confidence of 'the children they would have between them'... hm. maybe they had consummated#the relationship before marriage? because it almost sounds like he believes on is on its way#*1#i've outlined that for one of my fics just bcus i think it's more fictionally interesting. whocan really know#i know a lot is made of how so many of his marriages ended (for obvious reasons) but man is this not a particularly romantic beginning#and i don't even mean anne's arrest (altho . clearly that too)#but already calling her a 'fool' ? damn. maybe she had already accepted the proposal or maybe he was letting her know in no unsubtle terms#that he could always make another choice...since officially the betrothal date isn't until may 20#could do without the woobification of this marriage tbh! hirst and weir i am looking at you's
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atrwriting · 5 months
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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
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hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months
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THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE
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summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
word count: 14.4k
warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.
a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!
this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!
i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.
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The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.
After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.
He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.
As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.
Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.
"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.
Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.
He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.
"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.
Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.
"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"
"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."
Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.
It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.
"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.
"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"
Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.
"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.
"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."
"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.
Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.
As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.
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Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.
Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.
All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.
One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.
He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.
"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.
As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.
Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.
You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."
You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'
"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."
"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.
Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.
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It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.
"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.
"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.
You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."
Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."
"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.
Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.
"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.
A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.
"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.
"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."
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Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.
Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.
You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.
He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.
One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.
Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.
"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.
"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.
You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"
You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.
"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.
"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.
"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.
"Deal."
Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.
This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.
"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.
Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.
"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.
"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.
You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.
"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?
"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.
It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.
"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.
"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.
Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.
"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.
Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.
"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.
He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?
He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"
"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.
"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.
"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.
If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."
A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.
"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.
You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"
Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'
"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.
"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.
"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."
"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.
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It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.
He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.
You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.
The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.
"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.
"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.
"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.
"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.
He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.
He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.
The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.
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Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.
"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.
"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.
"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.
"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.
"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.
"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.
Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."
"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.
"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."
Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."
Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.
"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.
"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.
"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.
"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.
Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."
"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.
"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.
"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.
"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.
"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.
Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.
"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.
"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."
"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.
"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.
"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.
"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.
Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.
He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.
Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.
As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.
When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.
You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.
You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.
You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"
"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.
"Are you going far?"
"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.
You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"
"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.
"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.
"You really don't have to…"
"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.
Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."
"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.
You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.
As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.
You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.
Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.
"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.
"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.
"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.
"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.
"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.
"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.
"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.
Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.
"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."
Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.
"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"
"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.
"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."
Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.
He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.
Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"
Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."
"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.
Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.
Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.
"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.
"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.
Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.
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It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.
He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.
"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.
"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.
"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.
"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.
"Late night?"
"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"
"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.
There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.
"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.
Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."
There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.
You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.
"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.
"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."
Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.
Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.
"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.
"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.
"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."
"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"
"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.
"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.
"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.
"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.
Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.
"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.
"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.
"You're forgiven," you chirp.
"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.
"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.
The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.
"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"
It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.
"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.
"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.
"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.
"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.
"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.
"So, rebellion or something else?"
"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."
"Did it work?"
"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."
Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"
"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.
Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.
"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.
"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."
Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'
"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.
"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"
"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.
"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.
The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.
Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.
"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.
Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."
Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.
"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.
"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.
"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.
"Night," he whispers.
As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.
Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.
As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.
The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?
He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.
When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.
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"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."
You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.
"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.
"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.
His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.
You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.
"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.
"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.
Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.
He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.
"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.
As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."
"You sure?" He asks once more.
If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."
"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.
When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.
Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.
"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.
"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.
"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.
"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.
Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.
"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.
Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.
Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."
"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.
"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.
Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.
"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.
Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"
Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."
"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."
"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.
"Yes, chef!"
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Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?
His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.
Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.
If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.
One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.
You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.
"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.
When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.
It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.
They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.
Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.
Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.
With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'
He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.
His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.
Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.
You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.
Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.
"Chef, your girl is here."
"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.
"Here you go."
Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.
I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear
"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.
"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.
"Yes, Chef!"
Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.
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"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.
Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You too, Neil!"
"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.
Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"
"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.
"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.
"What about your famous pizza?"
"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"
"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."
"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."
Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.
"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.
"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.
You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.
"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.
"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.
"That rough," you grimace.
"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.
"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.
He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.
Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.
His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.
"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.
"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.
Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.
"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.
The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.
"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.
"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.
Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.
You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.
Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.
This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.
He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'
He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.
"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.
"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?
Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."
"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.
"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.
"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.
The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.
His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.
Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.
"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.
"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.
Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.
Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.
What good does he have to offer you?
"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."
You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.
His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.
"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."
Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.
You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.
"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.
"Then don't."
Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.
It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.
Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.
"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.
"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.
Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.
He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.
Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.
"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.
"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.
Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.
You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.
"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.
Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.
His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.
You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.
He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.
The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.
"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.
"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.
"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.
Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.
"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.
"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.
Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."
Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.
"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.
The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.
Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.
Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.
He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.
With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.
Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.
His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.
Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.
"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.
Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.
It's been so fuckin' long.
With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.
"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.
"Look at me," you sweetly say.
Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.
"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.
Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.
"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.
You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.
The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.
"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.
You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.
Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.
"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.
"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.
"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.
Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.
"Carmen, please."
"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.
"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.
"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."
"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.
Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.
With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.
Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.
Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.
"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.
"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.
"You like when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."
His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.
Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.
His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.
Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.
Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.
"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.
"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?
Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.
"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.
"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."
He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.
Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.
"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.
You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.
He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.
"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.
"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.
There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.
A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.
For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.
You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.
"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.
Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?
"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.
"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.
You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.
Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.
A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.
"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.
Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.
"Exactly! Someone gets it!"
And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.
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A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.
"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.
"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.
"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.
"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.
Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.
As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.
"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."
Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.
Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.
"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.
"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.
Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.
"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.
"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.
"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.
Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.
"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"
"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.
You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.
When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.
"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.
"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.
The End?
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thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.
if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!
thank you! bye xx
2K notes · View notes
aashi-heartfilia · 5 months
Text
What MaoMao feels for Jinshi...
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(Vol 5 epilogue discussion)
Love, duh. She wouldn't let just anyone choke her to death. Isn't it obvious? She just doesn't realise it yet because of her repressed emotions. I've seen a lot of bad takes and people hating on the Vol 5 epilogue, saying it's one heck of a disaster but honestly, it's not. Here's why:
I think it does a very good job of humanizing Jinshi, the imperial brother. Before this point, we were always given a picture perfect image of Jinshi, in his most angelic form...but after seeing this, it looks like he's very much capable of murder, lol. No seriously!
Previously, Jinshi was always all sunshine and roses and this is the first time we see a pinnacle of his anger and frustration taking a form.
Honestly, anyone would be angry. Jinshi has done so much for MaoMao and almost everyone close to him knows that he has eyes on her and only her from pretty early on in the series and only MaoMao is the one person who seems to be in the dark. Or more precisely pretending to be in the dark.
She is literally running away from her own feelings and that's what made Jinshi so frustrated.
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It was the same thing in the 'Frogging chapter' (yeah, that's what we're calling it). She was "playing the role of an ignorant maid who's in the dark as to what her supiriors are upto". Jinshi was trying to tell MaoMao that he is the imperial brother and he does in fact like her but that never happened because MaoMao kept pretending that it was a frog.
Same here, even if he didn't say it outright, he was dropping so many hints! Who else could have gifted MaoMao a Moon hairpin? Who would have given her beautiful dresses to wear in the banquet?
Jinshi is called the Moon Prince for a reason and that hairpin had a moon and opium poppy. even other people recognised that it was given by him to MaoMao like Rishu's half sister, so a smartass person like Mao should be able to guess that this was all from Jinshi.
The same person who's busy day and night made preparations for her, only to see some unknown random person dancing with her and kissing her hand.
He was jealous and it's only human.
In fact, I'm glad that he's not a complete saint.
He was mad at MaoMao for pretending to be in the dark when he has gone to great lengths to take care of her, and he was hurt that the same person would even suggest him to marry someone else, i.e. consort Rishu.
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He was trying to tell her how he feels, and she wasn't even willing to acknowledge anything that is between them.
Adding to the fact, she knew the thing between Basen and Rishu and yet she chose to turn a blind eye, to the love that could blossom between them and suggested her name to Jinshi. It was wrong on so many levels because MaoMao knew everything and yet chose to give the most political suggestion she could think of.
Maybe because of her repressed emotions, she herself has become heartless while making decisions but just like a double edged sword, it has consequences.
So it was a mixture of anger, hurt and jealousy for Jinshi.
And he wanted MaoMao to feel the same.
The same amount of frustration he has felt as MaoMao keeps running away, just because it would be a little troublesome.
Yeah, he's shitty just like that, and so is she.
(and we love them for it ❤️)
Does it justify what he did? No. But it seems like MaoMao herself doesn't even mind it that much. She looked like well within her comfort zone. Otherwise, we know how capable she is of defending herself. But she was there, pretty much sitting with Jinshi until she dominated him completely and made her escape.
Guess they're both far from the vanilla couple that are usually expected in these kinds of series and I absolutely love it.
She was just mad he didn't poison her instead, like he promised her, to which he replied he would NEVER let her poison herself (because he also loves her a lot too, duh)
This entire scene looks more like a battle for sexual dominance, which MaoMao won.
She always has, since the very first day he saw the real her ❤️
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lovelykhaleesiii · 3 months
Note
Hello!!! For the requests, can I request one for Aegon II? Pregnancy kink and maybe some family fluff with reader and Aegon's kids?
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Divine Honour.
PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader
WORDS: 1,515.
WARNINGS: domesticity, references of p in v sexual intercourse, pregnancy kink/breeding kink, lactation kink, breast play, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii, slight exhibitionism.
A/N - literally anything that involves Aegon with kids, domesticity and breeding/pregnancy kink is my weakness... I am a whore like that. hope you enjoy, I've combined these two requests :) also dedicating this as a little gift to you all in honour of the King's bday!!!!
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"Father! When can we choose an egg for the babe? Meraxes has laid a fresh clutch!"
"How much longer must we wait for this babe?!"
"B-Bub!"
The uproar of their high-pitched, eager voices left Aegon defeated, as he swiftly picked his youngest in his bulky arms, lifting the little princess onto his seated lap, where she settled herself comfortably. Babbling incomprehensible sounds [as she was still yet a babe herself, only able to muster a few coherent words] and idly pointing at your round, swollen belly. Your elder sons on the other hand, twins nonetheless, found themselves encircling their father like hounds, pouncing at his sides, desperate for answers, as you waddled yourself over to the edge of the royal bed, where they outnumbered Aegon.
"How many times must I tell you this, boys? When the babe is ready to come, it will come! Any day now, you'll have either a baby brother or little sister that you can dote on and protect for hours on end... Is that understood?"
The silver-haired boys both ecstatically eyed each other, giddy with excitement and anticipation for the newest arrival into the family, refusing to stand still. Turning towards you, your youngest only a few minutes apart from his elder, Rhaego, warmly embraced your side, careful with his grip around your protruding belly.
"You will find us when the babe is coming? Promise us, mother, that you will!"
The streak of worry tinged across his small, growing face, was enough to melt your heart. He was your exact twin, with some of Aegon's Valyrian-esque features. A smaller boy than his brother, and far more emotionally attached to you.
"Of course, my love. I will need you by my side, okay?"
"Now the lot of you, off to bed! Your mother needs her rest-"
Aegon's deep, stern voice clouded the room, before being met with the sighs and sounds of defeat from his twin boys. Gesturing for your lady in waiting, Sara, to make herself present: leading the boys, Rhaego and Aenys, out, as you warmly kissed each goodnight. Your littlest babe remained safe and sound, wrapped in Aegon's arms, desperately trying to stay awake, as she drifted in and out of sleep.
"And this little princess—”
The sudden drop in his tone, speaking in a volume only above a whisper, and far more softer, was enough to prove that your little girl was Aegon's weakness.
"My little Aelora, just doesn't want to sleep. She has far too much fun with her Daddy."
He plants a tender peck on her head, as she brightly smiles up at her father, taking much of his likeness, before rubbing her small eyes with her tiny fists, edging closer to slumber.
"Here—Here, she just needs her mother's boring touch to put her to sleep”, you tauntingly exclaim.
In exchange for his amusement, you take the babe in your arms, cradling her above your belly, as you gently sway her, lulling her to sleep. Aegon finds himself walking towards the edge of the bed, as he begins to undress, unbuttoning his tunic. Watching you from a meek distance, he feels a palpable twitch beneath the dark fabric of his pants, feels more tighter than he had noticed moments before. His thick cock stirring with excitement, as he witnesses the surreal vision of you holding his babe, whilst carrying his other unborn child.
"You truly are a divine sight, my love... You've never looked more beautiful than you do now."
His heavy words caught your immediate attention, as your focus pans from the sleeping babe to Aegon, looking rather ravenously at you. Although his orbs a light lilac shade, his gaze felt rather dark and menacing, his plump, cherry lips licked and glazing in the candle light. He looked as though he could devour you right there and then, you were rather familiar with this particular sight of your husband.
"Is that so?" You softly chuckle, turning from Aegon to the silent babe, before resuming your attention once more unto him.
"I do not feel so. I feel I am at my heaviest, Aeg. You honestly do not mean to say I am-"
Pouncing to stand, his heavy and heated footsteps pace towards you, a firm grip tugging at your silky night gown by your hips.
"Speak no more, Y/N. You cannot fathom how irresistible you look to me in this very instance... Put her down, I think she's deep in her sleep now, Mumma."
The firmness in his deep voice, almost a mimic of a growling predator, was an occurrence you saw in court, with your husband upholding his position as King. Aegon had established himself as a formidable man, despite the doubts surrounding his succession. You obeyed his command, gently lowering Aelora into her crib, as you nestled the babe in her minuscule, handwoven duvet.
"Come here—”
Gesturing you towards the end of the bed, his wolfish eyes lingered over your every inch, every detail of exposed skin, his hands wandering in sync with the insatiable lust in his eyes, as though it was your wedding night all over again.
"You think you do not look divine? Carrying my precious babe not only in your arms, but in your womb as well? Do you not think it an honour to carry and bear the seed of the King? Need I fuck you s'more and plenty, my dearest. Swelling you with as many children as your body can take, for you to understand your significance, hmm?"
Thoughtless against his lust-filled words, you hadn't even realised how swift and deliberate Aegon's sensual movements were, snaking his sturdy arms around your swollen, tender body, weak against your husband's touch. His soft lips latched to your tender skin, suckling at the sweet crevices of your neck, feeling your Grace slowly making his way carefully down, towards your busting cleavage, as he sat himself down by the end of the bed, pulling you closer towards him, trapped between his thickly sprawled thighs.
"Does your King not make you feel good? Have I failed you as your sovereign and as a husband, hmm? Need I spoil you more than I have already?"
Candidly unbuttoning the few clasps of your low-cut ivory nightgown, your tender, perky breasts instantly exposed themselves to your Grace, each tit filling with milk in preparation for the royal babe. The wintry, crisp air of the night left your skin crawling with chills, and Aegon's calloused hands, groping at each breast did not numb the feeling at all.
"N-No- Ahh, Aeg—"
"So fucking sensitive, look at you... I did this, I did this to you, you do well to remember that—"
"Y-Yes, y-your Grace," You feebly whimper, one hand firmly clasped over Aegon's broad shoulder and the other tangled in the short strands of his platinum locks: desperate to keep composure, as he taunts your delicate body. Flicking his thumb over the peaking buds of your raw, sensitive nipples, deeply chuckling to himself as he earns a helpless moan from you.
"Your body knows exactly how to take, my beloved. Knows what it is expected of, made to take my seed so fucking well, huh? Look at how steady your belly grows day by day, our babe kicking healthily inside... How these tits swell with that sweet, heavenly milk of yours, hmm? You were born for this, my dear. Made ripe for the taking of the King himself."
Without a second to spare, not even so much for a breath, Aegon's ravenous mouth latched itself onto your breast. His warm, slick tongue flicking at your nipple, suckling fiercely, eager for a drop of flavour. Instinctively your hands immediately drop onto his hefty shoulders, nails digging into the thick padding of his apparel. As you gradually grew more accustomed to the exhilarating sensation, your hands travelled their way back up, busying themselves by tugging and pulling at his silver strands: occasionally even guiding Aegon's head deeper into your bosom, keen to satisfy your King's insatiable hunger.
M-My body at th-the disposal of th-the King... The g-greatest honour b-bestowed. K-Keep fucking me, keeping m-me full of his seed—"
The mouth clasped tightly around your breast, a hand remained groping, kneading at your swollen flesh, whilst his other roamed below, firmly squeezing and palming at your ass cheek.
His stout chest heaving breathlessly, as he regained himself: Aegon's mesmerizingly violet eyes fluttered shut momentarily, before gazing upon you intently, a sly smirk strewed across his handsome face.
"Hmm, that's right, my beloved... We might even populate the Red Keep alone, and everyone will know exactly who you answer to... Everyone shall know that I be the man who fucks you hard time and time again, how well your pretty cunt takes my cock and seed. And when your body shows, everyone will know how willing your body is craving to be full of me. My beloved loves the attention from her King, yes?"
"I do, Aeg."
"And I love you... And the children, even the ones you will bear in time... I love you, just as you are."
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general taglist - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1
Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11
credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics
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morbiderotica · 6 months
Note
Hii! Can i pls request a Light x reader nsfw? You know the scenes where L planted a camera in his room right? Well maybe to make L less suspicious of him Light fucks the reader in his room? I thought that it was a hot idea♡ you dont have to do it if you dont want to😊
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★ DECEPTION ─ fem!reader
#NOTES ─ i love you for requesting this i cannot tell you how many times i've day dreamed about this (sorry it took so long)
#WARNINGS ─ smut, cnc peeping toms (L), p in v,
#SUMMARY ─ "there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say." innocent until proven guilty
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there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say. his moderately chapped lips kissing your cheek lovingly. much unlike how light usually behaved around you.
"light." his name left your lips, trying to warn him he'd made your mind go blank. but he knew.
"i know." he whispered back, displeasure laced in his voice. luckily, light was more than capable of carrying out the plan for the both of you.
"just let me do all the work." he muttered, his voice not loud enough to be picked up on by the mics on the camera but still he was careful with what he said.
he hoped you would be too. you nodded. looking up at light with a lustful look in your eye that he couldn't deny was making him a little aroused. light kissed your jaw, roughly. as if light was capable of doing anything without roughness.
"last chance to back out." it's not a soft tone, but it does let you know that he won't be mad at you if you do decide you don't want some random creep watching you have sex with your friend.
you shake your head, you weren't going to let him down now. and to be totally honest, the thought of someone watching you in such a vulnerable position was intriguing to say the least. light began to undress you once you'd given him your final consent.
meanwhile, L watched his screen with wider eyes than normal. his eyes grazing every pixel of the screen as he watched light take off your shirt. neglecting the other screens that were broadcasting equally, if not more, important information. L racked his brain trying to figure out if this was just a trick of if he was really witnessing this dirty scene play out.
all your clothes were off in what seemed like a blink of an eye. pressed into the mattress with light's knee inches away from your heated core. you dumbly pull at his tie, fucked out expression but light hadn't even gotten started with you yet.
"you got any thoughts in there at all?" he smirks. silently gloating now that he knew he had every single person he knew wrapped around his godly finger. there was not a thought behind your blown out pupils. it prided light to know he had such an effect on you.
"i haven't even done anything yet." he furthers. and L was hearing all of it.
you paw at the waist band of his bland khaki pants. light chuckled feeling your shaky hands trying to get more of him. his rubs his hand over your chest, caressing your nipple with his pointer and thumb.
"patient girls get rewarded." he tsks. he's met with a whine to which he chuckles again. he knows L will over analyze and find something wrong with the scenario if he doesn't hurry up.
"you wanna get rewarded?" he unbuttons his pants with one hand. you're eager, desperate. you need hm in a way you didn't even know it was possible to want one of your friend.
he reaches over you, grabbing a condom from the book shelf. it was wedged between two books. clearly he was trying to keep it hidden from his maid of a mom and his nosy sister.
he opens the condom with his teeth and you might as well just have hearts in your eyes as you watch him. the wrapper falls somewhere unimportant on the bed. he rolls the condom on. you knew it was only a matter of time before you finally felt full with his cock.
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© 2023 MORBIDEROTICA
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Text
PROVE IT ───
jackson rippner ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter
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pairing. jackson rippner x reader
summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.
warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 3.6k
a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏
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It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer. 
Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.
But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold. 
You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 
Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry. 
You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.  
You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week. 
No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear. 
Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart. 
You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily. 
He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands. 
It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks. 
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered. 
“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.” 
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 
He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 
You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall. 
One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face. 
He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it. 
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something. 
However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 
“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation. 
“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.” 
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom. 
Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face. 
He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned. 
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties. 
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous. 
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip. 
You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole. 
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you. 
“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt. 
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that. 
But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet. 
You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue. 
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth. 
Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips. 
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling. 
“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt. 
Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth. 
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back. 
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.
Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving  your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on. 
“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit. 
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him. 
He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor. 
You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time. 
Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you. 
You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words. 
He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds. 
One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge. 
Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside. 
Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson. 
You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue. 
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. 
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly. 
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close. 
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation. 
Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up. 
At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”
Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop. 
You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim. 
His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him. 
So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.
His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy. 
You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”
He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.
Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”
“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now. 
You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”
He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead. 
“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”
“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”
You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”
Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it. 
“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. 
You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged. 
“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.” 
You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either. 
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starlitwishes · 6 months
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"Do NOT make a doll out of his corpse!"
He worked hard to kill that asshole, don't revive him!!!
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wosoimagines · 2 months
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Swap - Jessie Fleming/Reader
just a little something for you guys that i've had an idea about for way too long (thank the USWNT v Canada game for this cause it made me remember how much i love Jessie)
prompt: Jessie and R have a long standing tradition of trading jerseys, but someone gets in the way of that.
warnings: none
words: 1,256
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(Y/N) POV
I grinned as I found Jessie in the crowd. I knew that the game didn’t actually end the way either of us wanted, but at least neither of us could be that upset since we didn’t lose.  
“Swap with me?” 
My eyes darted away from where they had locked onto Jessie to turn to Eriksson. I tilted my head in confusion. I had never actually talked to Eriksson before other than some light trash talk on the field. 
“You want my jersey?” 
Eriksson softly chuckled but nodded. 
One of the best centerbacks in the game wanted my jersey. 
It was still surreal that there were other players out there who would seek me out to get my jersey. 
“Well, I feel like it would be fitting considering how much trouble you give me during these derby games and when you play against Sweden.” 
“Oh.” 
I still didn’t make a move to take my jersey off though. My eyes darted to where Jessie was talking to a couple of her teammates. 
“So, how many of her jerseys do you have, and you still haven’t told her how you feel?” 
My eyes snapped back to where Eriksson was standing. She was watching me, but I knew that she was aware of who I was staring at. 
“I don’t know,” I shrugged as I ducked my head. It honestly was too high of a number to count now. We had gotten into the habit of trading our jerseys at least once a year when we played each other, and, honestly, even when we didn’t play against each other nationally, we still saved each other a jersey from the year. “We just kind of started as teenagers and never stopped. It’s our little tradition now when we play each other the first time of the year to swap.” 
“How about this,” Eriksson started, causing me to look over at her, “you go tell Jessie how you actually feel about her, and I’ll wait until the next time we play to swap with you.” 
I huffed a little at that. It wasn’t that I didn’t mind telling the world about Jessie and me, but Jessie was such a private person that I didn’t mind keeping our relationship from the world. Besides, our family and most of our friends knew. 
Well, at least most of my friends knew. If Jessie’s captain didn’t even know then I wasn’t sure who all on her club team knew. I didn’t even know if any of them knew. 
“I’d much rather just break tradition.” 
Eriksson raised her eyebrows at that.  
It wasn’t often that I would turn down a challenge. But if Jessie’s own teammates didn’t know, then I definitely didn’t want to risk them and the fans finding out about our relationship because I took Eriksson’s challenge. 
“Didn’t think it was like you to turn down a challenge.” 
“Not usually, no,” I said as I tugged my jersey over my head. “But there are some things that are better left the way they are. My friendship with Jessie isn’t one I’m going to risk for a jersey.” 
“Wouldn’t she be more upset that you’re not trading with her?” 
I shrugged at that. Jessie probably would be upset with me initially, but I figured she would probably get over it pretty quickly since I knew neither of us would be required to go in tomorrow. We always had the day after derbies off. 
“I’ll trade with her next derby. And maybe you could convince Harder to trade with me the game after that?” 
“I’ll mention it to Pernille.” 
I grinned at that as Eriksson finally pulled her own jersey off. I had been wanting to trade with Pernille Harder for quite some time, but I never had gathered the courage to ask the forward I looked up to. I handed mine over to her as she handed her jersey to me. I wasn’t surprised either when we were asked to pose for a picture with each other. 
Once the picture was over, I shook hands with Eriksson. 
“You should still tell her,” Eriksson said as she pulled me closer to her. “I think you might be surprised with how she feels about you too.” 
“We’ll see.” 
Eriksson gave me a pat on the back before she was off towards Harder. I sighed as I shook my head. I turned to try and find Jessie; I wasn’t surprised to find her still with Nimah as they talked with Lotte and Leah. I grinned as I weaseled my way in between Leah and Jessie, but it dropped a bit as Jessie’s eyes darted down to the jersey in my hands before looking at me. 
I didn’t pay too much attention to the conversation that the three English players were having as it was obviously more about their next camp. I nudged Jessie before nodding my head towards the tunnels. 
Jessie glanced at Nimah before she nodded. I smiled a bit wider at that as the two of us split off with waves to our respective teammates. Jessie stayed quiet as the two of us headed toward the tunnel. 
“So, my place or yours?” I asked. Jessie tilted her head to the side as she looked at me. “Well, normally the winner takes the loser home, but we drew.” 
Jessie slowly nodded at that. 
“Didn’t realize you still wanted to come home with me.” 
My brow furrowed at that. I had no real idea why Jessie would think that I didn’t want to go home with her. 
“Considering you swapped your jersey with someone else. Thought you of all people would keep with tradition.” 
“That’s not fair.” 
“You swapped with someone else.” 
I rolled my eyes at that.  
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” 
I huffed because I was sure that we were attracting quite a bit of unwanted attention from fans. I grabbed onto Jessie’s arm as I dragged her into the tunnel finally before heading toward a more secluded area of the Emirates. 
“Look, I did it for you.” 
“Doing it for me would have been swapping with me.” 
“Are you jealous?” 
Jessie scoffed at that as she began to shake her head. 
“You are!” 
“Am not!” 
“Are so!” 
“You can sleep on the couch then.” 
I rolled my eyes at that. I knew that Jessie wouldn’t actually make me sleep on the couch, especially since we hadn’t been able to spend time with each other in the same place since the winter break. Facetime and phone calls only went so far. 
“She wanted me to tell you how I felt,” I admitted. Jessie raised an eyebrow at that. “Eriksson. I told her it was tradition for us to switch jerseys and she told me that I could switch with you if I told you how I felt. I didn’t want to put you in the spot where you either had to out our relationship to your teammates if you haven’t told them or where you had to act like you rejected me. I know you want to keep us private from the public eye. So, I figured I could just swap with Eriksson this time and we’ll swap next time.” 
“I get it the next time though,” Jessie said as she poked at my chest, “and I guess you can sleep in the bed with me since you did it to make sure that our relationship stayed out of the public eye.” 
I grinned at that. 
“Does that mean I finally get my kiss from you?” 
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velvetures · 9 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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Play Pretend
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Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •
Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.
Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 4909
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Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him. 
He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together. 
He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.
There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close. 
It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own. 
He shifted again. Maybe he could-
“You okay?” 
He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’. 
You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?” 
“Hmmhmm.” 
For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that? 
“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold. 
“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?” 
You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants. 
“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.” 
You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.” 
“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.” 
You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it. 
He shivers. You know what you’re doing. 
“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle. 
“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary. 
While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him. 
He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him. 
Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”
You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words. 
“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.” 
“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say. 
He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake. 
“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.” 
The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers. 
“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?” 
Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince. 
“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?” 
“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. 
“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.” 
Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”
You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.” 
He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.” 
You stroke his cheek as he talks.
“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”  
You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time. 
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 
As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.
“You could never disappoint me, Jake.” 
He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?” 
“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.
“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”
“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. 
Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter. 
“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.” 
You grin and kiss his nose. 
“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning. 
“You want me to…?”
He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”
You smile cheekily. “You watch?” 
He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” 
“Almost all the time.” 
“Almost?” 
“99.9%.”
“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice. 
“I’m sleeping.” 
His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly. 
“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again. 
“You don’t mind?” 
You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”
“I’m definitely not doing that.” 
“Steven won’t care.” 
Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.” 
You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment. 
“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.
He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.” 
You tut.
“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.” 
You poke your tongue out at him. 
Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.”  He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction. 
You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive. 
“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?” 
Jake nods once. 
“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”
“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily. 
You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”
“Driving’s not very comfortable.”
“Jake-”
“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”
“Jake-”
“And everyone’s an asshole.”
“Okay, that’s true.”
He grins. 
“But, humour me, yeah?” 
He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.” 
“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”
“I’m on the wrong side.”
“Jake.”
“I’m on your left.”
“Well, we’re in America now.” 
“How did we get here?”
“Jake.”
“Did we fly?” 
“Jake.” 
“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”
You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective. 
He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth. 
You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous. 
He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips. 
“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked. 
“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his. 
You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants. 
You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you. 
His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck. 
You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing. 
Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly. 
You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down. 
Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time. 
The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. 
Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue. 
You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.
He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. 
You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold. 
Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing. 
You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.
Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides. 
You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue. 
He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth. 
“This okay?” You ask between licks. 
“Yes, ah,  yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.” 
“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds. 
You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily. 
“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air. 
His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat. 
He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush. 
Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly. 
Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips. 
“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth. 
He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you. 
He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around. 
You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.
“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.” 
You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches. 
When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering. 
“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?” 
You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning. 
“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.
You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.” 
He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture. 
“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh. 
“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside. 
“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy. 
“You.” You manage to stammer out.
“Me?” 
“You.” 
“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. 
You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls. 
He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.
Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you. 
“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.  
“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back. 
You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore. 
You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on. 
He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal. 
He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock. 
He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.
Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge. 
“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time. 
A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat. 
He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again. 
You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain. 
“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly. 
He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly. 
“Fuck, Jake, I-”
He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace. 
When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch. 
He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear. 
You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises. 
You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.
Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-
Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair. 
“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words. 
He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air. 
His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. 
“Please what?” You whisper. 
Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.
You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips. 
With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?” 
It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement. 
“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”
“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before. 
“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”
You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his. 
“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down. 
Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside. 
He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still. 
You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?” 
He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.” 
“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.
But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”
“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”
He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly. 
He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage. 
His fingers don’t falter though. 
The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second. 
You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.
His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour. 
“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly. 
You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still. 
You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 
You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans. 
“Amor…”
“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same. 
He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace. 
The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin. 
Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again. 
“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it. 
You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”
“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.
The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. 
Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”
It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants. 
You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend. 
He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe. 
And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe. 
“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you. 
He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.” 
You snort. “Oh, do you?” 
“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.” 
____________________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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fairydvsts-blog · 8 months
Note
i loved “i could fuck you better” sm! 🥵 reading the part where she begs rafe to finish in her without protection made me wonder, could u maybe write something for ex!rafe getting reader pregnant? 🤫
𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞
Rafe Cameron x ex!fem!reader
obx masterlist
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summary; your relationship with Rafe hangs by a thread, but a mistake will forever bind you together
warnings; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex, unexpected pregnancy, some angst but fluff in the end
a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Sorry for the delay, I'm a slow writer :(. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for your request!! ❤️
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When Sarah had invited you to her birthday party, the last thing you expected was to end up in Rafe's bed... Once again.
You two had broken up a few weeks ago for the hundredth time, and you had been ignoring him since the break up because you knew it was likely you would get back with him if you didn't.
And he didn't deserve it after what he had done.
But that night he was acting very different from how he usually acted: kind, sweet, caring. You hadn't seen him snorting any coke and he had even apologised for being a jerk —which was almost unthinkable coming from him—, causing you to soften in no time.
Before you knew it, you were naked under his dreamy body.
He was pounding into you hard, your bodies were covered in sweat and you couldn't help but moan with every thrust, each one of them hitting your g-spot. His hands were everywhere, touching and caressing every part of your body almost like he was worshipping you.
"I've missed you so much, baby," he whispered while he grabbed your neck to bring your face closer so he could kiss you, taking your breath away.
His tongue slipped between your lips and you moaned, closing your eyes and pulling his hair so hard that he groaned in your mouth. You used your legs to push his hips rougher against yours and you swore you felt the tip of his dick rubbing your cervix.
"Have you missed me?" he asked when you didn't reply, desperate to hear an answer.
He grabbed your left thigh, hard enough to bruise, and he placed your leg over his shoulder, heightening your pleasure. You cried out and hold onto his biceps with so much force that your gel nails dug into his tanned skin. You tried to give him an answer, but that new position was clouding all your senses and you weren't capable of putting words together; you had lost count of how many times you had come thanks to his fingers and his dirty mouth, but you could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm again.
"Are you gonna answer or should I stop, baby?" he insisted, slowing down his movements.
"No, no, please, I'm so close, Rafe," you begged him as you ground your hips to try and get yourself off.
"Have you missed me or not?" He pushed your body against the mattress so you couldn't move and stopped thrusting.
"Rafe..." you stuttered, looking at him with pleading eyes, but he didn't budge.
"Yes or no? It's an easy question, baby." He placed his thumb right over your clit, rubbing it at a torturing but very pleasing pace.
"Yes, I've missed you so much," you finally recognised, whimpering and biting your lip because of his actions.
He smirked, clearly satisfied with your answer, before he started pounding into you again, faster this time. He kept touching your clit with his fingers, making your eyes roll back, and you tried to match his pace the best you could. Soon, you were standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump off it.
"I'm going to cum," you told him, grabbing his hand to encourage him to rub your clitoris faster, and he complied.
"Me too, baby." His breathing was heavy while he started letting out more and more moans as seconds passed.
You stroked his belly, feeling his abs contract under your fingertips, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but neither were you, so you tightened your muscles around his cock and he groaned aloud; his raspy voice caressing your ears. With one last touch on your clit you came hard, trembling under him and moaning so loud that you were sure people on the first floor could hear you.
"Oh, fuck yes."
Your climax triggered his; Rafe cried out a bunch of curses while he fucked you through your orgasm and his own. You were so lost in the moment that you didn't even realise he was not wearing a condom. Three weeks later, though, when your didn't get your period, you became aware of your enormous mistake.
You sat on your bed, shaking and holding the pregnancy test in one hand, your phone in the other. It was positive, you were pregnant, but you were so scared of Rafe's reaction to that information that you didn't dare to tell him. You started crying your eyes out, not knowing what to do.
Should you tell Rafe?
Should you tell your parents first?
Should you keep it a secret and have an abortion?
You were too damn young to be a mother and you weren't ready for a responsibility like that, but it didn't seem fair to Rafe that you made that decision without being honest with him about the situation first; he deserved to know, even if you weren't together anymore.
You hadn't talk with him since your last encounter at Sarah's party given that you went back to ignore him as soon as you had left the house the morning after. He, on the other hand, was being more persistent than ever, blowing your phone with calls and messages every day.
That time, it was you who called, and it took him less than thirty seconds to pick up his phone.
"Baby, I'm so glad that you called." He sounded relieved to hear form you.
"We have to talk, Rafe," you simply said, struggling to contain your emotions that were all over the place.
Now at least you knew the reason behind all of your recent mood swings.
"See you in five." He hung up the phone.
As he promised, he was ringing your bell five minutes later. You opened the door, your eyes clearly puffy due to all the crying, and he frowned when he noticed, hugging you almost immediately.
"Are you okay, baby?" he asked, concerned.
He carried you inside, sitting on the couch and motioning you to sit on his lap. You did so, crying inconsolably on his shoulder as he whispered reassuring things to your ear throughout. He didn't pressure you to tell him what was going on; he just waited till you were ready to talk.
"We fucked up, Rafe," you said when you had calmed down, turning to look him in the eyes, "I'm pregnant."
His eyes widened when he heard you, his mouth dropping open because of the news, and it took him a few minutes to overcome the shock.
"Say something, please," you asked, feeling your eyes starting to water again.
Your heart was hammering in your chest; you were terrified. What were you supposed to do if he didn't support you in the most difficult moment of your life? For you, that would mean the end of your relationship forever.
Thankfully, that did not happen.
He just put his arms around you one more time and said, "Baby, whatever decision you make, I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be there for you when you need me, because I love you with all my heart."
For the first time since you had met him, you felt truly safe in his arms and you knew right away: he was the one, your one. It was pointless to try to stay away form him; you were his and he was yours and the universe would always conspire to bring you together, because you were meant to be.
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
Text
Housewife
Part - 14
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: ⚠️smut 18+⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang, explicit boyxboy, oral (male and fem! receiving), fingering (fem! receiving), the word "rapist" is used once as a joke by Stu way before any smut begins, p in v, safe sex, foul language, voyeurism (?)
Part 1
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The car purred as they drove down the highway. You were cuddled up in the back with Stu as Billy drove home. "Do you love me?" The question was so random Billy almost thought he was hearing things. "Huh?" Stu patted your hair as he looked out the window. "It's fine if you don't, I just wanted to know." It wasn't fine if he didn't. Stu knew he loved Billy unconditionally. It was almost obsessive the way he adored that boy. As Stu looked at your sleeping form he started to think about how he felt like he loved you. It wasn't the same sort of love he had for Billy. No, he hadn't known you long enough to feel that way. Stu would kill for you but that didn't mean much coming from him. He knew if a car was coming towards you he'd push you out of the way even if it meant killing him. Was that love or just being suicidal?
Billy looked at his friend in the mirror seeing his gaze focused outside. "Why would you ask that?" Billy wasn't mad or upset by the question just startled. He didn't do feelings. Sure, he had them but he wishes he didn't. They tend to overcomplicate things.
"I don't see how this relationship is going to work out if you don't love me. I've seen the way you look at her. Tonight when we were playing games at the arcade you stared at her like she was the only person on earth. You don't look at me like that. I-I just need to know if it's because I'm not new or you don't love me."
His words were strange to Billy. Never in their expansive time of knowing each other did they have heart to hearts. Billy was raised not to cry and not to reach out. Being upset meant you were acting like a child. "To be honest I don't know." Billy tried to pick his words carefully not because he was trying to manipulate but rather because he was trying to tell the truth. After so many lies he found it hard to understand what the truth was. "You don't know?" Stu couldn't grasp how someone couldn't know if they were in love or not.
"I don't know. I thought I loved Sydney but maybe I did get bored. You know that scares the shit out of me. Getting tired of you and Y/n? What if I wake up one day and the smell of her cooking disgusts me? What- what if I can't stand the sound of your voice anymore? I don't want to lose this. I had the best time of my fucking life tonight but oh it might not matter down the road because I got too comfortable." Billy's hand hit the steering wheel in anger. The more Billy talked the more he pissed himself off. Stu tilted his head like a dog processing everything he just learned. "You love us." Stu said a smile playing at his lips. Billy's face contorted in confusion. He just hit the steering wheel in anger but Stu was in the back seat blushing.
"How do you know?" Billy turned the corner focusing back on the road. "If you're worried about losing us then obviously you love us at least a little bit." Billy doubted it was that simple. Nothing ever was. Stu was always an optimistic person. He thought everything would work out eventually. That's not how life worked. "If you say so." The car pulled into the driveway and then the garage. "She's still asleep should I wake her up?" Billy shook his head. "No she's been taking care of our asses all week she needs the rest. Just pack her upstairs and put her to bed." Stu gently pulled you out of the car carrying you like a bride into the house.
Carefully he made it up the steps watching so he wouldn't accidentally hit your head. He nudged your bedroom door open with his boot trying not to make too much noise. Stu laid you in bed as comfortably as he could. You looked so peaceful to him. He pulled the covers up over you making sure to tuck you in. Stu pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room shutting the door behind him.
"She still asleep?" Billy asked as he folded up the basket of laundry you left out. "I thought she was dead for a second." The joke went over Billy's head causing concern. "I'm kidding she's fine. She drools in her sleep." Stu said making Billy laugh. "Did you have fun tonight?" The dark-haired boy was trying to make this work. Stu sat on the couch leaving Billy to fold up clothes. "I had a wonderful time especially since I absolutely demolished your ass in Mortal Kombat." Billy just rolled his eyes telling himself he let his partner win. "You looked good tonight." Stu glanced up in shock. He wasn't the complimenting type and he sure as hell never complimented Stu.
Billy kept his eyes on the clothes not wanting to make eye contact with Stu. This was what actual couples did right? "Thank you." The room was silent. Stu thought of his words before he said them. "You looked handsome tonight too." Handsome. The word made something turn inside Billy. For a second it felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe he was going to vomit? "Thanks." Was all Billy could come with. It was unbearably awkward but Stu couldn't help but smile. "Do you need help folding? I can't do shirts but I can do pants."
You woke up in a hot sweat. It felt like you had died. If someone asked what year it was you couldn't tell them. The last thing you remember was eating food at a restaurant with Billy and Stu. "Damnit." You rubbed your eyes trying to see in the dark room. The clock said it was 11 o'clock but it felt like you'd been asleep for days. You threw on an unflattering nightgown before you headed downstairs. The boys laughed while watching some loud TV show.
"She's alive!" Stu exclaimed like he was Dr. Frankenstein. "How'd you sleep?" Billy asked looking at your disheveled state. "Water." You rasped walking like the grim reaper over to the sink. Cold tap water seemed to coat your throat helping you wake up just a little bit more. You walked over to the couch throwing yourself on top of the men. "What are you watching?" You asked as Stu giggled at some guy getting hit over the head on screen. "The Monkees! It comes on your old lady channel. I haven't seen it since I was a kid." You looked over at Billy seeing him shrug his shoulders. "He's been laughing for the past 30 minutes."
"You're not hard to please huh?" Stu pinched the tip of your nose. "Obviously not, I'm with you aren't I?" You faked a laugh as you stared at the tv. Stu's hand ran up and down your leg just like it had the first night they came over. His eyes were glued to the TV laughing every time something even remotely funny happened. Billy would chuckle just because his friend was laughing. There was something different between them but you couldn't put your finger on it. The date night you had might've had some effect. All three of you felt closer, it felt more normal if that was even a possibility.
"I think I want to have sex with you two." You blurted making both men freeze. You immediately covered your face regretting speaking. "Like right now?" Stu asked ready to strip. "No, well, oh I don't know." You groaned with embarrassment. Billy stayed quiet letting you say everything you wanted to. You sat up on the couch looking at the two men sitting beside each other. "Couples have sex right?" They nodded in unison. "We're like a couple right?" They nodded even quicker trying to fill in the blanks for you. "So we should have sex-" Stu reached to take off his shirt but you stopped him. "At some point." You finished making the boy frown.
"Why'd you bring this up?" Billy asked. Between you and Stu randomly bringing up touchy subjects he was liable to get whiplash. You rubbed your face with your hands trying to get a grip. "I was just thinking about it. I have been... thinking about it." Stu knew if anyone could overcomplicate sex it'd be you. "Guys I'm scared."
It was the honest truth. You were terrified. "Of what?" The tone Stu had seemed to dismiss whatever emotion you felt. "Nothing it's dumb." You stood up only to be pulled back down by Billy. "No talk to us. What are you scared of?" Billy made demanding eye contact with you just to show he took this conversation seriously this time. "You?" The word came out like a question. That question seemed to negatively affect both boys. Stu was gutted that you were scared of him even worse that it was sex-related. You grabbed Billy and Stu's hands not wanting them to think it was all their fault. "Men in general are scary. I'm not scared of you exactly more of what you could do." That somehow made less sense to them both.
"Stu, do you remember the other night when we were wrestling?" He smiled remembering how funny that whole thing was. "Yeah, I beat your ass." He said proudly. Billy seemed to understand what you were getting at by Stu's response. "I could give it my all and you both could still trap me. I don't stand a chance and it's frightening. What if in the middle of it all you decide to-" Billy moved forward putting both of his hands on your arms. "We would never do that." Stu scoffed sitting up next to you. "Yeah we may be killers but we're not rapists." Billy looked at Stu like he could kill him making the boy sit back and shut up.
"Y/n I'm really trying," Billy spoke as you nodded. "I've noticed." He smiled continuing his speech. "I don't and would never want to hurt you. That night that Stu's place I couldn't put you through that pain." He gestured to your closed-up wound. "I know but I joke around a lot. I say I'm into chains and whips but I'm scared of all of that. I don't want to feel like I'm stuck and with two of you it's pretty damn intimidating." You had got this idea in your head that anything intimate with the men would leave you used and torn apart.
"I joke around like crazy you don't think I'm being serious do you?" Both you and Billy looked at Stu. "Wow tell me what you really think." You laughed making Stu smile at his accomplishment. "Hey." Billy's hand rested on the side of your face pulling your attention back to him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand?" The words were sharp but they weren't angry. Billy meant what he said. As long as he was living no one would lay a finger on you besides him and Stu. You nodded as he smiled. "Wait so are we sleeping together or?" Stu was just really confused. Before Billy could smack him you stood up. "I'm going to take a shower and freshen up. You two can do whatever you want." Without looking at the men you walked upstairs heading to your bathroom.
Billy jumped off the couch making Stu sit up. "What? What's wrong?" Stu asked looking up at the man. "She said she's going to freshen up." Billy shook his hands for emphasis. He could see Stu simply wasn't getting it. "That's like the universal term for "we're going to have sex." How do you not know that?" Stu stood up a small "pfft" leaving his mouth. "No the universal term for we're going to have sex is "Hey we're going to have sex."" Billy's palm slapped his forehead before dragging down his face. "Listen just go clean up and change I'm going to take care of a couple things." With a nod, Stu went off to his room.
Billy waited on the stairs till he heard the water start to run. Your room was empty but the record you played was loud. The Smashing Pumpkins vinyl spun around letting Billy's favorite song play. He could barely hear you humming the words in the bathroom. You remembered. That fact made his heart seem to swell. It wasn't what you normally listened to. All he heard the past week was what you called "classics." Now there you were in the privacy of your room listening to his favorite album. With a smile, he got to work. The first thing he did was make your bed. Once it was neat he made sure the room looked comfortable. He noticed the candle you had sitting on your dresser. Billy headed downstairs to ask Stu for his lighter.
Stu's bedroom door opened hitting Billy with a cloud of cologne. "Jesus fucking Christ!" The boy cursed waving a hand in front of his face. "Too much?" Stu asked innocently. Billy huffed not having time to deal with him. "She's not going to let you in the room let alone her bed smelling like that." Stu thought he smelt good, you had complimented him on his cologne before. "Change your shirt and pants and air out this damn room." Billy was about to leave before remembering why he came down there in the first place. "Oh, I need your lighter." Stu dug through his dresser tossing the skull-covered lighter to the man. "What do you need that for?" Stu pointed towards the object. "I'm going to light a candle." Stu held up his hand covering his mouth with a laugh. Billy's face dropped at his friend's laughter. "Shut it fuckrag." Billy pointed at Stu but it didn't stop him from laughing.
Upstairs you had already stepped out of the shower pulling the cap off your head. You hung the shower cap up before wrapping a towel around your frame. You didn't know what to expect. Billy's little speech downstairs did wonders for your nerves. Were you still terrified? Yes but for some dumb reason, you trusted them. You had this nagging feeling you'd regret it. You willed yourself to believe in the fantasy land you've created. Sex wasn't something you'd grown accustomed to. That day playing truth or dare barely felt real. There wasn't much emotion behind it just teenage hormones. You weren't upset about it you just hoped this would be different. As your skin dried off you slipped a pair of underwear on covering them with one of Stu's shirts.
Billy sat at the edge of your bed biting his nails. He had to repeatedly tell himself he was trying to be better, to do what you asked. As you walked out of the bathroom he stood up. You could tell he was nervous by the way his eyes darted back and forth between you and the door. "I thought we could talk. You like talks right?" His smile was tight as he raised his eyebrows. You saw your bedroom door was closed completely leaving Stu out of the conversation. "I'm fine with talking but we made it a rule to include everyone when we talked." Billy watched as you walked over to your record player. The way you took care of the fragile vinyl said something about your character, at least he thought it did. "I know but I already asked Stu if it was okay and he said it was."
"I get that but we should have conversations together." Billy grew impatient. "Just!" The word was loud scaring him when he said it. You looked at him waiting for him to fix his tone before speaking to you. "Just.. please? I need to talk to you alone." You put the record on the shelf debating on talking to him in private. Billy was a complicated man. You didn't want to throw away the chance of getting him to open up. "Okay. What do you need to talk about?" You walked over to Billy's side sitting down with him at the foot of the bed. "You want this to be equal. Meaning this is a group effort right?"
"This?" You asked as Billy's leg bounced with anxiety. That little voice in his head told him he couldn't do this. "Sex." Was all he said. "I would like it to be that way, yes. I don't want anyone feeling left out." He nodded understanding what you meant. You couldn't begin to grasp how difficult this conversation was to him.
"Look if you want us to sleep with you that's fine but I don't want this thing me and Stu do to disturb you." His wording was intentional. To him sex with you was normal but sex with Stu was just a "thing." It was shameful to him. "I-I um..." He ran a hand through his hair keeping his eyes on the ground. "I don't want you to look at me differently after this." You didn't know what to say to make it better. There was no easy fix. Billy raised his arms in surprise as you wrapped your arms around him. His arms slowly found their way around you hugging you back. It was comforting. Billy didn't like hugs. This one however made him feel safe. You had him and you weren't letting go. Who he is didn't seem to bother you and knowing that lifted a weight off his shoulders. "Should I let Stu in now?" He spoke gently.
You nodded pulling back from the boy. Billy stood up opening the bedroom door. Stu came tumbling into the room. "I didn't hear anything." He swore picking himself off the ground. "Not for lack of trying." You smiled knowing Stu was eavesdropping. Billy made sure to close the door behind Stu locking it in place. The action wasn't lost on you. Something was different. Billy had no problem with what happened in your living room just weeks ago. The fact he was locking your bedroom door knowing no one else was in the house was odd. It was for security you supposed. The reassurance that no one could walk in. Your curtains were also closed but you knew you left them open just a few hours earlier.
"Here ya go." Stu pitched Billy a small bottle. "What's that?" You asked getting a quick and easy answer from Stu. "Oh, it's lube." He pulled two condoms from his pocket sitting them on your nightstand. You were out of your element. "If you don't want to do this I need you to let me know." Stu said wanting your full consent. This was a first for all of you, he didn't want to mess it up. "I want this, it just feels like you're both prepping for surgery."
Billy held the bottle in tight hands hoping to warm up the cold liquid inside. Stu chuckled finding his spot next to you on the bed. "I get that trust me but none of us here want kids yet and the lube is just to make sure you're comfortable."
Yet. The word pulled at pieces of Billy's brain. The thought of having kids was not something he wanted to worry about right now. With a shake of the head, he walked over to both of you. "Listen, we don't have to do this." Billy still had this unremitting feeling that things would change. You'd see him as some perverted homo and wouldn't want him near you again. He was ashamed of who he was and what he did but if you wanted this he'd do it. Both men looked at you trying to pick up on any signs of hesitation.
Stu was careful about consent the last time anything happened between the three of you. His behavior hadn't changed any. Billy's new behavior was something to get used to. His nail-biting, soft-spoken nature was different than the rude and demanding one you had got to know. "I want to do this but if one of you is uncomfortable we can just go to bed. You don't have to sleep downstairs." The promise of just sleeping next to you was tempting for Billy. He knew this would have to happen sooner or later. "I'm ready whenever you two are." Stu said as he peeled his shirt off. Billy slipped the bottle into his pocket before leaning down to you.
"I need you to say it."
His face was serious but not cold. "Say what?" The air between you two was nearly suffocating. Billy's voice was low as he spoke. "I need you to say you want this, you want me." Billy's hands rubbed the soft skin on your thighs as Stu stripped down to his underwear. You looked at his hands the eye contact quickly becoming intimidating. "I want-"
"Look at me, please." With a shaky breath, you looked back up meeting Billy's eyes. "I need this. I need you, Billy." There it was. That possessive glint you'd seen before. Any minute now he'd be demanding and rough. His lips softly pressed against yours. The kiss was slow and careful. Billy tried to remember the way your lips felt in case you threw him out after tonight. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip signaling your lips to part. Billy pulled away smiling at the love-drunk look on your face. "Let me help with that." Stu helped pull your shirt over your head leaving you in just your panties. "I was right. You look even better out of my shirt." Stu said making your cheeks heat up. Billy's shirt was the next to go. Stu cupped your chin before leaning in to kiss you. It was hungrier than the kiss before.
Billy watched his two partners with some semblance of pride. They were his. For how long he wasn't sure. In the end, it didn't matter because right now in this bedroom, he had them and for some reason, they agreed to have him. Stu squeezed your breast making a small noise leave your lips. Billy went back to work pulling down the fabric that hugged your hips. You raised up just enough to make his job easier. He tossed the underwear in the same spot his shirt had landed.
Stu laid back on the bed taking you with him. For a split second, you forgot Billy was even there. He made his presence known by pressing a kiss to your abdomen. Then another on your hip. Stu broke the kiss watching the scene next to him. You looked down at Billy as he littered your skin with kiss after kiss. He eventually made his way down pressing a kiss on your folds. Stu saw the way your chest jumped ever so slightly. He wondered if he told you how beautiful you were today but even if he did it wasn't nearly enough. As Billy's tongue ran up and down your folds, his eyes flickered up toward Stu. Your soft moans accompanied by Billy's gaze made his cock twitch. Stu picked your hand up moving it where he needed you most. Softly you began rubbing him through his boxers feeling him strain against the fabric. The moan that came from Stu made you continue your movements. It was hard to focus with Billy going at you like a man starved. Billy's eyes would go back and forth mainly focused on the man you helped please.
Being watched stirred something in Stu and Billy noticed. The short-haired boy removed his underwear with haste needing to feel you against his skin. Your hand wrapped perfectly around his cock. The pumps were gentle at first not knowing what Stu liked. His moans and the quiet chant of your name kept your hand moving. Billy pulled your clit between his lips making your back arch off the bed. Stu let out a lustful cry at the feeling of your hand squeezing around him. You didn't mean to do it at first but the new information only helped you tease him. Every few pumps you'd gently squeeze his cock earning a beautiful sound from Stu each time.
Billy's tongue continued its assault as he slowly pushed two fingers into your cunt. Hearing the sounds you made mixed with Stu's was enough to make him cum right then and there. It took everything in him not to. Billy smiled against you feeling your hips try to meet the thrust of his fingers. He doubted you were even aware of what you were doing. Too busy pleasing the man next to you. Your free hand tugged on Billy's hair needing more of him. Billy pulled out his fingers before moving to stand up. You groaned at the loss. With his eyes on you, Billy sucked his fingers clean of your slick even a soft moan could be heard like it was the best thing he's ever tasted.
"We've got to take turns right? Everything has to be fair and equal?" He teased moving in front of Stu. The boy looked at Billy silently asking him if he was sure he wanted to do this. Billy motioned his head upwards telling Stu to sit up. The boy complied sitting on the edge of the bed. You sat up making sure you didn't miss anything. Billy took a deep breath seeing you watch him. He knelt in front of Stu grabbing the man's erection. "Ah!" Stu exclaimed looking down at the man in front of him. With a trained hand, Billy stroked Stu's cock.
You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Billy leaned forward spitting on the tip letting the liquid run slowly down the veins. Using his hand he pumped Stu's cock the spit making it easier for his hand to slide up and down. He knew what spots to pay attention to. Stu's moans were louder than before. His abs were prominent as his muscles tightened. Billy with a sly grin licked a stripe from the base to the tip. He kept his eyes on Stu not being able to look up at you. Stu turned his head pressing his lips to yours. He moaned into your mouth as Billy wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock. His tongue swirled around making Stu's hips jerk. Stu's breath was uneven as his chest heaved up and down.
"Fuck." Stu cursed against your lips as Billy slid his mouth over the man's length. With a moan, Stu's head fell back leaving you to watch them without interruption. Billy could feel your eyes burn into his skin. That insecurity slowly started to creep back up distracting him from the man under his touch.
Stu grabbed your hand squeezing as his orgasm rapidly approached. "I-I'm going to cum." Stu warned with a whine. Billy continued sucking knowing if he didn't there would be a mess to clean up. His eyes closed tight as Stu cried out. Stu chanted a mixture of your and Billy's names. Billy let Stu ride out his orgasm before he looked to the floor swallowing the evidence of the sinful act. Stu laid back on the bed letting the newfound clarity wash over him. Billy's lips were swollen and his cheeks were red. You'd never seen him look like this until now.
Billy didn't dare look up knowing he'd see the disgust in your eyes. "Billy?" Hearing his name made him feel sick. You waited for him to look at you but he refused. He rubbed his eyes wanting to erase everything that had just happened. Billy looked up immediately apologizing for something he didn't need to. You cut him off grabbing his face and pressing your lips on his. You could taste Stu on his lips and it spurred you on more. Billy was shocked. You broke the kiss to look at him. "I need you." Your hands tugged on the waistband of his jeans greedily. How was he supposed to be calm and careful when you acted like this?
"Say it again." His voice was low and demanding making your cunt throb. "I need you." You happily repeated yourself seeing the way it brought his confidence back. Billy stood up unbuckling his belt right in front of you. You focused on the way his hands pulled the leather off with ease. He grabbed the bottle of lube tossing it on the bed. His jeans were quickly discarded along with his underwear.
You looked at Billy's naked form growing embarrassed by the view. "Baby throw me one of those." Billy pointed towards the condoms. Stu was happy to toss the package over. He was well aware of how hard it was for Billy to do what he did. Stu no longer felt like a dirty secret. You crawled up onto the bed as Billy opened the black wrapper. "Here lift your hips up." Stu grabbed a pillow slipping it between you and the bed. The feeling of your hips in the air was odd but you figured Stu knew what he was doing.
Billy slid the condom over his length with ease. The man debated on asking you once again if you were alright with this. You wiggled your hips impatiently. That small gesture was all Billy needed. Stu grabbed the lube squirting a little in his hand. He kissed your neck as his fingers smeared the jelly over your entrance. Billy crawled on the bed settling between your legs. Stu's eyes watched as Billy lined himself up with your cunt. You closed your eyes scared of the pain you've heard so many people talk about. Stu continued to smother you in affection as Billy slowly pushed into you.
It wasn't near as bad as you expected it to be. You tried not to focus on the stretch as he bottomed out. Billy cursed trying to hold still. "You okay?" Stu asked and you nodded. Billy's hips started to move to find a rhythm you were both comfortable with. Stu wrapped his lips around your nipple getting hit with a feeling of deja vu. Billy held onto your hips as he thrusts into you. He had to remind himself over and over that he needed to be gentle. Stu was used to his partner's fast and rough routine so seeing him struggle was almost humorous.
Your breath hitched as Stu tugged at your breasts. His teeth teased your skin making goosebumps flood your flesh. Billy watched as his partner left small hickies in places no one but the two of them could see. "Faster..." You moaned one hand squeezing Billy's wrist. The man's pace quickened making the sound of skin on skin even louder. It seemed the faster he got the tighter your muscles became. Stu abandoned your side sitting up to kiss the man between your thighs. Billy's free hand wrapped around Stu's throat squeezing just enough to keep him still. You moaned watching the men as Billy's thrusts continued to knock the air out of you. Billy's borderline whimpers did nothing but fuel your arousal. "Don't stop!" You cried out making Billy hold off his orgasm just a little longer.
Both men watched as you came undone around Billy's cock. It was one of the most beautiful things they'd ever seen. Billy's thrusts became rough and erratic as that familiar white-hot pleasure twisted inside of him. With one final thrust, his body trembled. Your name like a prayer was said over and over like it was the only thing he could say. For a brief moment, it was the only word that existed.
You winced as Billy pulled out. Stu fell next to you pressing a kiss to your cheek. "How was it?" He asked knowing the answer from previous experience. Billy tied off the condom before disposing of it in your bathroom. "I can't feel my legs." You giggled making Stu laugh. A warm fuzzy feeling covered your naked body. You weren't sure if it was the sex or the overall love you felt from both men. Stu helped move the pillow out from under your hips. Your legs and arms felt like jelly as you moved to cover yourself underneath the blankets. Stu followed suit huddling up next to your naked frame.
Billy left the bathroom grabbing his underwear from the floor. You groaned as you rolled out of bed needing to use the restroom. "Do you need help?" Billy asked seeing your wobbly legs. "Don't get cocky." You said with a laugh walking toward the bathroom. "I wasn't trying to-" You pressed a kiss to his lips silencing the boy. "I'm just messing with you."
He smiled watching your ass as you walked into the bathroom. The door shut behind you leaving both men to themselves. Stu grinned seeing the look on Billy's face. "You love us." He said feeling that bubbly feeling once again. Billy laughed to himself. "You know, you might be right."
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Part 15
A/N: Sorry that this chapter took so long to unload. Theres some serious character development happening and I wanted to make sure I did the characters justice. Hope you're enjoying the series so far!💕
(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
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sehodreams · 2 months
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a good girl's paradox
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TW and Tags: plus size!coworker!reader x coworker!lee tang (he changed his name to Gyeong-su in the episode), mentions of violent acts (stalking, killing, bullying), smut, p in v (with protection), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), suicidal thoughts, trauma, related to the series but it changes the storyline for the fic purposes, unclear descriptions of the place (Busan) because I have no interest into learning more geography for a fic.
WC: 10K
Summary: Everyone goes to that province to hide, and you’re not the exception, but it’s also said that everyone wants to leave, and perhaps, you’re the exception to that.
Comment: Sorry guys I know I have a lot of requests and other drafts waiting, but I love this man so much I couldn’t help it, I started it yesterday and finished it today because I've been having so many problems finishing other fics and decided this was not going to be one of those half done. It's long so there are definitely mistakes, please be kind, again, English is not my first language.
Feeling the ocean breeze mess up with your hair and leave little particles of salt on it, you sat over the bench and watched the sun appear over the horizon. It was incredibly calm, and beautiful, and you inhaled the aroma of the sea in front of you, an aroma your mother used to love when you were younger, always carrying you in her arms to take you there and watch the sunrise together while eating marmalade and butter sandwiches.
You stopped completely going there once she passed away, and everyone knew why you tried to avoid its existence as if it woke up all the melancholic memories you had with her.
The truth was, you always hated it, and you stopped completely going only because you had no reason to do it anymore. You could make your own decisions once she wasn’t around anymore, and your father never cared enough to keep you company even on important events, so for as long as you could, you just didn’t go.
However, now that you saw it in front of you, you did remember some moments with your mother, her smile, and her excited voice telling you to wake up and watch the sun appear.
‘’Fucking sea’’ you said once the sun completely stayed up there, an orange light showering the whole scenery making it even more breathtaking, but still hating it.
You stood up, grabbed the suitcase handle, and walked alongside the sea, trying to catch a cab in that part of the countryside little city, different from Seoul, which was always awake, you saw how only a couple of people were walking around there, and most of them where fishers getting ready for work, or maybe they were coming back, but you, a city girl your whole life, didn’t know.
You found a taxi not much later and telling him where you were going, the driver rolled his window even more, and giving you a good look, he nodded for you to jump in.
‘’It’s not far from here’’ he said, and you nodded, not feeling like talking much with him. ‘’When you leave, don’t let them charge you too much, never pay more than 15 dollars for any cab, and never go to the sea at night.’’
That last sentence caught your attention, sounding like advice but with a hint of uninterest, assuming that you were going to leave one day.
‘’When I leave?’’ you asked.
‘’You’re going to a rented apartment, I know that building, we know everyone here, and you’re a city girl, I can hear it in your voice, all pretty and clear, something happened to you there so you came here to hide, it’s always the same thing, but your kind never like it here enough to stay’’ he answered sure of his statement.
You looked out the window, the sea was blue, pure, immaculate, and the sun wasn’t orange anymore, a clear sky showing the clouds up there, which you could see reflected into the sea.
But it all looked so grey to you, after all, a beautiful thing like that one still killed people every now and then, fishers who tried to make a living, tourists curious of what was deep inside, or simply people who tried to refresh themselves with the cool temperature of it in the summer, so you nodded.
It was beautiful, a dream, but you would never fall in love with it, if you never did it before even with the memories of your childhood, why would you do it now?
‘’Thank you’’ you said, agreeing with him.
You’d never like it enough to stay.
Still, you kind of appreciated his words after living there for almost a month.
Something you never forgot was how that driver, only with that short conversation, helped you so much, because it was true, you never had to pay more than 15 bucks for any cab, and every time the drivers tried to take advantage of you because of your accent, you only had to spit a short fuck off before they called you a bitch and accepted your bills before driving away.
At first, it was hard, you had never cursed in front of another person and you felt almost sick whenever you did it, but after deciding no one knew you there enough to have the right to judge you, or reminding yourself to just say what went through your mind to not punish yourself later with an I should’ve done something different, you started to feel better with your life there.
Also, he had been right about city people hiding there.
There weren’t many, but they were there, and it was incredibly easy to recognize them.
Apart from the dialect, which was pretty much obvious, there was just something about them that screamed I’m not from here that you always noticed.
Perhaps it was the way most of you were programmed to be colder than most of the countryside people, always being respectful and polite, but always lacking that warmness they had, most of them treating each other like friends or family, while all of you were from the exterior, uninvited guests that one day would leave, and knowing your place, all of you said thank you, hello and goodbye without smiling or eye contact.
It wasn’t that bad for you thought, you had already told yourself to not be involved with people at all if it wasn’t necessary to avoid useless problems, but again, you were only a girl, and Gyeong-ah was just a girl too, and girls, as much as you tried to deny it, feel easily alone.
You met while buying groceries, and you knew immediately she was from Seoul because instead of choosing the detergent almost all the residents there bought, which had a powerful, almost heavy aroma of flowers to mask the sea smell, she chose the softer version without aroma that most girls that lived alone in Seol used to not mess with your perfumes.
You didn’t wear perfume, you never liked it, but you recognized the brand as if it was general knowledge taught at school.
‘’You’re from Seoul’’ you said before you could think it, and it wasn’t a question at all, it was a fact that she, when she heard it, couldn’t even deny because she recognized you too.
‘’You too’’ she said, and suddenly you had a friend.
Just as city girls, you two knew how to talk to each other, never crossing lines and being as cordial as you could, wanting to know but never digging too deep unless you were sure the other deserved to know delicate information about yourselves.
In a month you became best friends, and you started to like to live there, the grey color the area had wasn’t as grey anymore, taking a brighter variation now, almost becoming white, as white as her ceilings, or as the smile she sometimes showed you.
Both of you had really white teeth from performing as perfect city girls before arriving there, religiously visiting the dentist to get expensive treatments at least twice a year and using the famous toothpaste that girl group promoted on TV between music shows, with the phrase ‘’a pretty smile is a pretty heart’’ pushing half the population to buy it, effective, an incredibly overpriced.
Both of you stopped using it, but you respected how it still showed its results.
‘’The supermarket is opening a new position as a cashier, you could come if you want, you receive discounts as an employee’’ she said to the air when you were rambling about almost not having enough savings.
Even if it was the countryside and rent wasn’t even half of what you paid before, with everything you spent after unsuccessfully trying to fit the beauty standards when you lived there, your savings weren’t enough to live unemployed for too much time.
Next week you, instead of waking up to take a little walk before breakfast, now got ready to go to work and be a useful human being to society again.
And with that, both of you took a step further into your friendship, being able to reveal, after drinking a couple of beers, why you escaped from the city.
Gyeong-ah told you everything, from the pretty sequence of how she and her boyfriend met, to then what he did to hurt her, and how she suffered until she had to go through all those surgeries before she moved to Busan.
You told her everything too, how your boss pushed his hand under your skirt, how you reported it and how everyone looked at you as if you were crazy, ‘’She’s the one that reported the sexual assault case? She should be grateful anyone wanted to fuck her’’, and how, being completely alone, you were bullied until you had to quit.
‘’I was the first place in my class’’ she said.
‘’I closed the best deal the company ever had’’ you said.
Both of you cried until you fell slept together on her bed, and only woke up because both of you had to get ready for work.
It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new job, you were already a seller before arriving there, you knew how to talk to people and how to fake a good smile, charming customers into buying products they didn’t need and quickly gaining the manager approbation, because, after all, as everyone said, you were a good girl.
Sadly, Gyeong-ah didn’t have the same luck, and you understood her, she studied to do something different with her life, and you did it too, but she was younger and never had to learn how to make people love her before because she was incredibly gorgeous, but now that beauty wasn’t as useful anymore, and not knowing how to pretend as much as you, she couldn’t gain the appreciation you did, getting more scolds than praises.
It was on one occasion that her inexperience got her into a big argument with a client, and sadly you saw the first crack of your friendship appear.
That client was demanding a refund for a product without the receipt, and you wanted to run to her and repeat how you also couldn’t find the purchase on the system, but that woman was screaming so bad you got flashbacks of your boss’s wife screaming at you to take back the complaint, how her husband would never touch a disgusting pig like you (calling you that when she was as fat, to not say more, than you), and how you should just ruin your own life if you wanted to ruin someone’s.
She had the same voice tone, and even looked exactly like her, with dark red lipstick, a failed perm and all those cheap accessories, she was her spitting image.
You couldn’t move, watching the situation happen from afar, feet stuck to the floor and hands shaking, you repeated inside your mind to go and help her, to take her side, but you couldn’t, and making eye contact with one of the boys from the fish section when he walked in front of you, you closed your eyes to ignore the situation and not feel as pathetic as you did.
Later, when your break came, you went out to breathe as much air as you could, and trying to erase the memory of the past moment from your mind, you tried to think what could you do to apologize to Gyeong-ah.
Out there, between a couple of cars, in the middle of the immense parking lot, you tried to hide so no one saw you spiraling into a thousand thoughts, and there, almost breaking down, you stopped yourself from doing it when you saw the guy from before talking to that woman.
It looked as if she wanted to discuss with him too. He was beside her car, and she started to get closer to him while talking, you couldn’t hear it, but you saw her mouth moving as fast as before.
You were about to get closer to hear them, but you stopped once you saw a disgusting string of saliva being spit on the concrete by him.
It was so long and thick that you didn’t doubt it was a consequence of all those cigarettes he smoked every day.
You didn’t smoke, but Gyeong-ah did, and sometimes the smoke got impregnated in your clothes, so you could easily identify the Marlboro smell of the pack the two of them chose all the time, but he, unlike Gyeong-ah, had a smell a lot stronger.
Your thoughts were left aside once you saw the woman moving around nervous and he trying to take her phone. What the hell, you thought, and you were about to intervene when the woman jumped into her car and drove away.
Making eye contact with him again, he watched you for a couple of seconds before he turned around and completely ignored you, continuing to smoke his cigarette in peace.
‘’I don’t have time for this’’, you whispered to yourself and walked inside to talk with Gyeong-ah and not overthink anymore.
The first crack wasn’t deep, she said she understood it, and you hugged before finishing your shift and going back home to drink and badmouth that terrible woman, especially you, not thinking much of the woman from the supermarket, but of your boss’s wife.
She laughed while hearing all the insults you had about her appearance, going to sleep with a smile on her face and telling you that she would understand if the situation happened again because it wasn’t your fault, or hers, it was theirs for not understanding you two.
Little cracks continued to appear on the frame of your friendship, but it was still solid enough to survive everything.
At least, until Sangnim appeared, and completely smashed it to leave no trace of it.
That fucking bastard, as you used to call him, ruined everything with his existence.
The minute you saw him you knew something was off with him, you couldn’t help but notice small details when the two of them gave you a lift home, sensing the aroma of a perfume you used to smell a lot in Seoul inside his car, it was impossible Gyeong-ah was the only woman riding it, and you tried to slip a question without looking suspicious.
‘’Sangmin-ah, do you have sisters? I can’t believe how much you understand my Gyeong-ah’’ you said with a smile.
He made eye contact with you through the mirror and showed you a wide grin.
‘’I don’t have any sisters, but you’re so sweet, I really try to take care of Gyeong-ah as much as I can, she deserves it’’ he answered immediately.
‘’You’re right, she deserves it’’ you repeated, still smiling.
Shut the fuck off, you contained yourself from saying that out loud, nodding and looking around to find any other clue.
You couldn’t find anything, but he was definitely a cheater, and you, not having any solid proof, didn’t know how to break the news, so you pretended to not know anything to find the correct moment to say it.
Still, you left little comments every now and then, not blaming him, but leaving a trail of doubts around, doubts that sadly were never enough for Gyong-ah, fracturing too much your relationship.
You even thought that maybe you were exaggerating too, maybe deep inside you just tried to find a reason for her to end things with him, he was never going to stay, he said it before when you three had dinner, he’d go back to Seoul next year, and contrary to all predictions, thanks to your friendship, you liked it here enough to stay.
The future wasn’t bright at all, but it was enough for you, maybe in a couple of years you could escalate to a better position, you’d get benefits, you would walk around the beach every Sunday morning, and then you’d go and have breakfast with Gyeong-ah.
You had to apologize, for the sake of your friendship.
However, you didn’t have to, or more than that, you could never do it, because three days later Gyeong-ah passed away.
Waking up in your free day, you sent her a text to ask for an hour of her time to talk, but she didn’t answer in fifteen minutes, and you just knew something was wrong.
Taking a cab to her house, you saw the ashes all around, and how her room was the one who started it.
‘’It seems the oven was on’’ you heard one firefighter say.
Dropping to your knees, you denied it, because she always checked everything at least three times before going to sleep, it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she would check the door, the kitchen, and would unplug her phone charger from the wall.
‘’I saw on the news that chargers can get on fire’’ she said, and you laughed in her face because that only happened once every thousand times, ‘’Well, with my luck, I could be that one time.’’
‘’Shut up’’ you said while knocking three times on her wooden headboard.
 It had to be him, it had to be him, it’s the only answer, she would never do it, she wouldn’t let her oven on in a million times, they didn’t know her like you did, and sadly, soon no one would remember her like you did.
Calling her mother was the hardest part, you couldn’t remember how the hug of a mother felt in real life, and when she wrapped you into her arms, you broke down with her, because even if you didn’t know her, Gyeong-ah had been telling her about you, always finishing the calls with the same sentence, ‘’Don’t worry mom, my friend’s is taking care of me here.’’
‘’I’m so sorry, I should’ve taken more care of her, I’m so sorry’’ you repeated in her arms, and her mother denied it, saying how that wasn’t your fault at all, but you felt as it was, because you could've stopped her from seeing him, you should’ve stopped her the minute you figured him out.
You didn’t, and it didn’t matter how many nights passed, you couldn’t sleep with the guilt consuming you.
Looking at the beach at night one day, not being able to sleep again, you remembered how the first day you arrived you were told to never go to the sea at night, and right there, you understood why that driver told you that.
For the first time ever, you thought that maybe, maybe, you should just get lost in it, like the fishers, like the tourists, like the innocents.
You weren’t none of them, none of them deserved it, but you were convinced you did.
And you were about to go meet her, until you realized that, there, on earth, you could continue taking care of her, because even if she wasn’t there with you anymore, you could do what was necessary to make Sangmin pay for what he did.
You wouldn’t survive another I should’ve, so you would do it, you would do what was necessary, and nothing would stop you.
Finding Sangmin’s information wasn’t hard, you just had to do a couple of clicks on the internet, and you had everything you could need.
If only you had done that before, but you refused to go back into social media, all your profiles were flooded with hate comments from people you used to work with, or your boss’s family, or people who didn’t know anything at all but felt the right to talk about your body, and she had also deleted all kind of social media for a similar reason, so none of you knew how he was about to get married, and how you had been right about the smell of her fiance's perfume and all the little comments you had left around.
It was simply impossible how they met was a coincidence, getting sex extorted just like Gyeong-ah? He knew how to get close to her and break down her walls, he planned everything, and finally, you had no doubt about doing something.
You planned to wait for him out of his job, you wanted to do it quick and easy, and no one would suspect you, you looked like a good girl, you were a good girl, you were one until he appeared and stole the little family you had, he stole your whole life, and you would do it too.
With a knife in hand, you waited for him to get out of work, and you thought that he would drive his car, but he didn’t, so you followed him down the dark street to an unknown place.
Gripping onto your weapon, you felt your heart punching your ribcage, nervous as never before.
I can do it, I can do it, you repeated inside your mind, trying to convince you again.
But you couldn’t, and entering an alley, letting him go, you started to cry while hugging your knees, apologizing to Gyeong-ah for not being able to do anything for her.
You felt a cold sensation touch your nape and you jumped away from it surprised, looking up at the sky night and watching the guy from work you never liked.
‘’Drink this’’ he pushed the water bottle to your face, almost obliging you to take it, and your heart started to beat again, knowing he had seen what you tried to do, knife on the floor easily to differentiate even in the dark.
‘’Gyeong… Su?’’ you tried to remember his name.
‘’Go home, sleep, and tomorrow go to work, the manager keeps calling you and leaving messages, your position is still yours’’ he said, almost immediately walking away, but you stopped him gripping his jeans.
‘’You saw me’’ you affirmed,
‘’I did’’ he didn’t try to lie.
‘’Don’t you think I’m bad? I tried to do something really bad.’’
Your voice almost broke, and your hand on his jeans was trembling.
He looked down at you, maintaining eye contact and scanning you, and you felt as if he was inside your mind, finding exactly what he wanted to know.
‘’You’re not bad’’, he said after a long silence.
‘’You don’t know me’’, you replied as soon as he finished talking.
He shrugged and pulling apart from your grip, he talked one last time before leaving, ‘’That’s true.’’
Completely alone there, you cried again until you felt satisfied, and looking up to the dark clear sky, you apologized one last time to Gyeong-ah, and to your mom, and to you, and after drinking the whole bottle of water, you walked to the beach, burring the knife into a hole in the sand you dug with your own hands, to then go home, take a shower, and sleep.
The next day you had to go to work, and you needed to sleep at least a couple of hours.
When you arrived at work the next day you told yourself to completely ignore Gyeong-su, not wanting to talk with someone who had seen you in such deplorable moments like the ones you had.
However, again, you were just a girl, and not having anyone around you anymore, he was the closest thing to intimacy you had.
The relationship you had wasn’t deep enough to be called a friendship, he rarely talked about himself, only keeping you company when he smoked a cigarette in his break and when his turn finished.
You can’t remember how you started to get closer to him, you just remember seeing him smoke near the plastic table behind the supermarket, near the entrance in which all trucks left the daily order of products, and sitting next to him in silence, missing the smell of the Marlboro Gyeong-ah used to smoke.
Somehow, it brought you a calm feeling, and your mind stopped thinking, becoming a blank sheet that didn’t need to be filled with anything, not memories of her, or your past life in Seoul, or Sangmin, only breathing and watching the ugly metallic green bars that surrounded the place as if it was a prison, separating it from the outside world.
He didn’t mind you staying there, and days after days, you started to notice his presence around more often inside the supermarket, and the little behaviors he had.
‘’A man of few words’’, you called him when he didn’t answer your question if he was from Seoul too, thing he never acknowledged, but it was too obvious.
He didn’t have the province dialect, he had a soft way of slurring words whenever the manager or his superior in the fish section made him questions, like most boys in the city did, especially those who worked as part-timers in convenience stores, a polite but tired tone, and you were sure he had received some kind of superior education because when you carried a copy of Justice written by Michael Sandel, he followed it with his eyes until you pushed it inside your bag.
‘’Those who insist that only bleeding wounds should count believe that post-traumatic stress reflects a weakness of character unworthy of honor. Those who believe that psychological wounds should qualify argue that veterans suffering long-term trauma and severe depression have sacrificed for their country as surely, and as honorably, as those who’ve lost a limb’’ you quoted the next day while he lighted his second cigarette and seemed more relaxed next to you.
‘’I’m too dumb for that’’ was the only thing he said before exhaling a long line of smoke.
You don’t know why, but after hearing him so sure while saying that, and after such a long time, you were able to laugh again.
Things were slightly getting better after two months, you could sleep at least four hours now, and you were doing things again, not only staring at your TV when you arrived home. You opened old books she had left at your house, cleaned your place more, and ate proper meals, and you still cried, but at least you were able to smile when you saw pictures of her in your phone.
Still, there were moments in which you crumbled, and one of them was when you heard what happened to Sangmin a long time ago, only a couple days after you tried to do… that.
You heard it from one of the clients, how weird things were happening, first the death of a former worker there in the supermarket, and then the death of her boyfriend, and how now there were other two girls dead.
‘’This never happened before those people started to move here’’ her companion, another elderly woman said, and of course they referred to the people like you, people that weren’t born or grew up there, but you couldn’t help but only think in what you had heard about Sangmin.
Sangmin was dead, and what should’ve brought you joy for fair karma, instead made you hide in the warehouse, crying and spiraling into your thoughts about Gyeong-ah, and how you didn’t even make an effort to make sure she got her real justice, cleaning her name from everyone’s mouths.
‘’What’s going on?’’ you heard Gyeong-su’s voice come from behind the shelf you were leaning to.
‘’He-He’s dead’’ you answered, you didn’t need much to think of how to phrase it, he knew who you were referring to.
‘’Isn’t that what you wanted?’’ he asked you.
You stayed silent, muffled cries hiding in your knees.
‘’I don’t know, but I’m hurting so much, and all I keep thinking about is how Gyeong-ah must have suffered more than me when she left this place, and how I’ll never be able to know if he received what he deserved, even more, how because of that I’ll never be able to clean her name, and now no one will remember her as clearly as I do’’ you then confessed.
Feeling like a sinner telling a priest all of her secrets, you felt as if something had left your chest free, your mind finally was out there, formed into words and tears, and you didn’t see his face, but that let you speak your mind even more free.
‘’I see’’ he murmured, ‘’and you’ve thought that all this time, I guess.’’
‘’Yes,’’ everything was out, your tears sliding down your cheeks and your body lighter, almost numb.
‘’Well, you shouldn’t compare your pain, or hers, or his, each of you went through things none of you three know, she doesn’t know how you’re mourning her death, you don’t know how she suffered the process of it, and none of you know how he suffered his, those are things none of you will ever know, so it’s okay if you hurt, but you don’t have to think much into what he deserved, because you’ll never have an answer, and you shouldn’t condition what you feel into an answer you’ll never receive.’’
You sniffed your tears, looking at the packages of toilet paper in front of you, wishing you could take one to clean your face.
‘’And I do remember her, not as clearly as you do, of course, no one will, she was your friend, but I remember she liked to buy fresh tuna every Friday to eat with you, she always had a blank face when the manager scolded her or when she talked to rude clients, and she would rarely smile, but with you, she would do it in front of others sometimes.’’
You exhaled.
That was exactly her, she liked tuna when you hated it, and you picked on her for having an old man's taste buds, you preferred chicken over it, but you let her win every time one of you had to choose, and yeah, she did stare blankly at others, including you, but if it was a good day, she would smiled at you with those white pearls she had inside her mouth.
Feeling as if some heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders, you exhaled and let your head fall to the shelf you were leaning into.
‘’You two were the city pair’’ he finished, making you laugh.
‘’You’re also a city boy’’ you said, and he coughed, ‘’and you’re a liar, you said you were dumb.’’
‘’I am, I never understood that book’’ he said before grabbing the box between you two, lifting it, and going out, leaving you there alone.
You felt as if finally, you had taken a step in the right direction, moving from your position, you cleaned your tears with the ugly blue vest, too hard for your cheeks, and waking you up with the pain.
A week later another girl died, and your boss had to organize a meeting.
‘’It seems the current situation is getting dangerous, especially for young girls, so the superiors have ordered all the women to leave while the sun is still up’’ he said, and you don’t know if it was because of an empathy people from where you grew up didn’t have, but you got surprised when none of the men argued with it, everyone nodding in unison.
You had permission to leave early, so you did it, not being able to share Gyeong-su’s company when your turn finished, only seeing each other in the first break.
‘’You’ll miss me’’ you said the first day, and he never made any sound to acknowledge your silly jokes, but this time he let a soft snicker, almost imperceptible, that made you smile too.
You tried to always do what you were told to, so you left before the sun went down, but that day you were in charge of counting merchandise in the warehouse, so you didn’t see how late it was until you checked your phone.
It was even later than the time for everyone to leave, so you quickly grabbed your things, said good night to your male coworkers, and left.
You tried to not get paranoid with the news, they specified that the killer only directed its attention to pretty girls, loving long legs and soft features.
Gyeong-ah and Sangmin cases were mentioned every now and then to repeat how dangerous things were getting, but they were never related to the girl’s deaths, being two different situations.
That’s why, you tried to convince yourself you would be okay, you didn’t share any of the characteristics the killer loved in their victims, and he supermarket wasn’t far from your house, but you didn’t dare to walk alone anymore between all the buildings, so you waited for a cab to appear and take you home.
You made sure to always be careful when you were alone, yes you took cabs, but you always had a pen on your hand and your phone ready to call 119 in the other, checking the routes and if the driver looked at you too much.
Everything was okay, you were already relaxed when you saw your building in front of you, so you shoved your things in your bag, pulled out the bill, and paid, walking home with an easy mind.
You never thought you would get snatched right next to your door.
With a hand on your mouth and the other on your tummy, you felt how you were dragged into the alley next to your building, darkness surrounding you while you felt a disgusting presence behind you.
The one who pulled you in was a man, taller than you, with big hands and an erection already ready to make your worst nightmare real.
You started to cry, muffled by his gloved hand, you couldn’t say anything when you heard his voice calling you sweet treat, ordering you to be silent if you didn’t want things to get ugly.
Begging Gyeong-ah, your mother, and God to send you help, you nodded when he said he would let you go if you were good.
‘’Promise?’’ he murmured.
‘’Promise’’ you agreed, closing your eyes and letting his hand cup your pussy with force, not making a single sound, only trembling with tears running down your cheeks.
He pushed your face to the wall and made you show him your bubbly ass, touching it as much as he wanted without an ounce of shame.
You thought this is it, my karma, repeating inside your head how this was your punishment for all the things you should and shouldn’t have done.
The man couldn’t even open the button of your jeans before you heard a loud bang and his body fell to the floor.
Staying in your position, you pressed your face to your hands and didn’t dare to turn around to see what was making all that noise, it was metallic, and it didn’t stop even when the man didn’t make a single noise anymore.
When things got silent, you, still trembling, turned your head to see what, or who stopped the man.
You never expected to see Gyeong-su covered in black clothes from head to toe, paint all over the floor, covering the man's body and face, and the can totally smashed and tossed to the side.
‘’Uh?’’ was the only thing that came out of your mouth.
‘’I knew he was going to come for you, this sick bastard’’ he said.
You didn’t understand why he thought that, and watching your white sneakers get ruined with the blood and the red paint, you started to cry even more, still in silence.
‘’It’s okay, you’re okay’’ he said, giving you your messed bag and, once again, leaving you alone.
You called the police, the number still there on your screen ready to only press the green button, and when you did it, you said your direction as clearly as you could.
‘’Did you see who did it?’’ one of the officers asked you, and you stayed silent for a good minute before answering.
‘’I didn’t’’ then you said.
The two cops keeping you company looked at each other and then the one writing things down nodded.
‘’I see’’ was the only thing he said before leaving you alone.
You didn’t have much to do, the man was dead, and now nothing could be done.
Was that justice? You thought.
They immediately recognized him as the killer, he had a patron, pretty girls who lived alone, and all the bodies showed the same signs of abuse before dying.
Perhaps he had lied to all of them, and he had lied to you, convincing you that if you did no sound you would live, but you’d have died just like them at the end.
But did he deserve to die? Just like Sangmin, wasn’t there another way to get justice for your pain? For yours, Gyeong-ah’s, and all those girls’.
Still, what you knew was that, even if it was contrary to all your values, knowing how valuable life was, Gyeong-su didn’t deserve any punishment, he had saved you, and justice for you, was that he continued free out there.
The next day before you went to work, you saw rests of the red paint still over the cement, thin layers already dry after so many hours, cracked with the breeze of the sea, and you thought how, if Gyeong-su hadn’t saved you yesterday, what anyone else would have seen in daylight was your cold body lying out there.
All your coworkers hugged you when you arrived, and your manager told you to take the day off if you needed, but you couldn’t go back home or you’d start to overthink things again, if what you did was the correct thing to do, if he deserved to die like that, if you were a killer too, taking into account how you saved Gyeong-su’s secret.
When the first break came you walked out to the plastic table, but Gyeong-su wasn’t there, and hugging your coat, you sat to wait for him, but he didn’t come.
He avoided you for days, and you thought the pseudo-friendship you had was over, until a detective arrived and started to make questions about what had happened to you that day.
‘’You really didn’t see who did it?’’ he asked, and you denied again, already used to say that lie as if it was an unchanging truth, ‘’Do you mind if I walk around here a little bit?’’
You didn’t have a reason to say no, but your eyes caught how Gyeong-su opened the curtain separating the counter from the freezer where all the fish waited to be cut and packed to be sold, and how he immediately took a step back, not letting himself be seen.
You don’t know why, but you knew Gyeong-su didn’t want that detective to see him.
‘’I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to see any more cops lurking around, he’s dead, and looking at you only brings me back the bad memories of that night’’ you didn’t know why you said something like that, it didn’t make any sense, all the older ladies loved to see the cops near, feeling a lot safer, but you didn’t know what else to say to make them leave.
His younger companion frowned and was about to say something before the detective stopped him and nodded, leaving you his card and telling you to call him in case you ever needed help or remembered something.
You didn’t answer, shoving it into one of the numerous pockets your vest had, and turned your back to continue writing down the stock you were counting.
‘’Ugly girls should learn how to talk prettily at least’’ you heard the younger say.
‘’Shut up, she’s a victim, she doesn’t have to entertain you with pretty words’’ the older quickly replied, ‘’and you don’t know what you’re saying, her face is very pretty.’’
Jand Nam-gam, you read in the card he left you.
He seemed like the kind of person who was only respected by the people who were near him, used to receive no as answers, and a bit blunt and unsophisticated, from the city, just like you, but without the calm and respectable vibe a detective from there usually had, and too honest and correct to survive there for long.
When you went out for your break a couple of hours later you saw Gyeong-su sitting on the table, smoking and waiting for you.
You sat next to him and for the first time, you showed him your palm, asking for a cigarette too.
Without looking at you, he gave you the one he was smoking, still new and ready for you to take it.
Your fingers brushed his when he gave it to you, and you tried to not think much about it, but you always thought too much, so to shut your mind up, you inhaled the cancer stick and held it as long as you could, slowly letting the grey cloud appear in front of your face.
The city had the same grey color it used to have before Gyeong-ah, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay there.
Your imagination wasn’t filled with a future there, you didn’t want to walk around the beach anymore, you had no one eating breakfast with you in your head, and you were afraid every time your turn finished and you had to go back home, running the few steps to open your building door, and only feeling safe once you checked that your oven was off and you put a chair behind your secured door.
‘’I didn’t ask for your help’’ he then said.
‘’Me neither’’ you answered.
He nodded, still looking at the metallic bars surrounding you.
‘’How did you know I didn’t want him to see me’’ he asked, breathing the air and pushing his hands inside his apron pockets.
‘’How did you know he was going to come for me’’ you asked back.
He shrugged like every time you asked him anything he couldn’t ignore.
‘’I just knew he would come for you, after all, they said he followed pretty girls.’’
It felt completely different from when the detective said it, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a warm sensation reach your cold hands.
‘’I just knew it too’’ you said, tossing the rest of the stick to the floor.
It tasted like shit, and you couldn’t understand how he and Gyeong-ah smoked it every day.
‘’I won’t come to work tomorrow.’’
You felt incredibly alone again, you knew he meant that he wouldn’t come back, he would, again, leave you there on your own.
‘’Can you walk me home today? I’m afraid of going on my own.’’
He knew why you asked him that, a goodbye, a farewell, so he nodded and told you to wait for him at the front door.
Your turn finished and then you were waiting for him right where he had told you, a good girl following his words exactly like he wanted.
You stayed there, hands playing with the leather strap of your bag, the bag you used when you lived in Seoul, too noisy in the province, reason why you preferred to go around with your canvas tote bag, a lot more discreet and common, but that one had been ruined with the red paint that day, and just like your white sneakers, you had to toss it away.
When he appeared he nodded at you, indicating you with a tilt of his head to lead the way.
You two walked on silent, you couldn’t make any question or comment or silly joke, and it was obvious, by the grip on your bag, that you were nervous.
He noticed it, and pulling out his hand from the pocket of his bomber jacket, he grabbed your left hand and held it all the way to your house.
You felt incredibly calm, thinking how you shouldn’t because you knew, deep down, that he was dangerous. It was impossible, by the fear of facing the detective, that he hadn’t killed more people, and it was clear he was being followed.
That makes sense, you thought, if you weren’t sent to that province because of work, like Sangmin, you were hiding, and he was just like Gyeong-ah and you, escaping from things that had happened in the past, or perhaps, things that were still happening now.
But you hadn’t felt so safe in so long, because you knew that, with him, nothing would snatch you next to your house, and that no one would be able to enter your house, or that your oven was never going to magically explode.
With him by your side everything was okay, you were okay, and that was enough to make all those preoccupations disappear.
When you got to your entrance you let his hand go to open the principal door with your key, and he was behind you, observing you, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head, but when you turned to him, he let his eyes fall to the floor.
‘’Do you want to drink some coffee?’’ you asked, and he nodded, following you inside and walking up the stairs until you got to your little apartment.
It wasn’t amazing, but it was yours. You didn’t have an elevator, and you always had to go up to the fifth floor to let your clothes dry with a big basket, but it was okay, you liked your building, your neighbors were quiet, and you felt safe and sound there. Until that happened.
Inside your room you let him close the door for you, and you didn’t feel the need to immediately put the secure on, leaving your coat on the hanger instead, and taking off your shoes, you walked to your little kitchen, putting water in an electric kettle to boil it.
You could cook in your kitchen, but you never used the oven, and you preferred the electric kettle over the traditional one because once the water was done, it would automatically turn off.
Then you sat on the floor, leaving two cups, sugar and coffee over the little wooden table you had, and turning on the TV, you looked at him in the eyes until he sat beside you on the floor.
He was wearing an ugly grey sweater that kind of smelled like fish, mascaraed with what you identified as the cheap deodorant you sold in the store, but you were used to the fish smell he had, so you didn’t mind.
‘’Do you mind if I take a shower?’’ He said not much after.
You nodded, the news had just started, and you mindlessly changed the channel to try to find anything interesting.
 ‘’Sure, there are towels in the cabinet, I’ll get you some clothes, they’re mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit you’’ you said, and he didn’t waste a second to walk to your bathroom.
You gulped while changing the channels, you knew what you were going to do, but you hadn’t done it in so long, you needed a second to recognize what that sensation forming on your abdomen was.
You hadn’t done anything at all, and you felt yourself already getting wet inside your panties.
The click the jug did after the water was done caught your attention and you stood up to get the water, pulling out the cord from the plug, but knowing you had to get him his clothes, you walked to your little closet to find a t-shirt and some pants that could fit him.
He wasn’t buff at all, but he was lean, a normal guy there, not fat, not big, not small, and taller than normal, so you decided to find the biggest clothes you had.
You were choosing when you heard the door open and you felt him walking behind you, hands surrounding your waist and wetting your back with the drops that were still sliding down his chest.
‘’I chose this’’ you said, lifting the clothes so he could see them, feeling his breath touch the side of your neck and his nose brushing your skin.
‘’I’ll wear them later then’’ he answered, pushing you to your closed closet and making you turn to him.
You weren’t that short, but just then you noticed how much taller than you he was. He made you lift your eyes to him with a touch to your hands, taking the clothes from your hands and letting them fall to the floor.
‘’I- I don’t remember much how this was… it’s been years for me’’ you admitted, and he nodded.
‘’It’s been years for me too’’ he said, not as ashamed as you.
With the same hand that tossed the clothes, he made you look at him and accept his mouth over yours, taking the lead in the kiss and erasing all your thoughts.
It felt good, his lips were chapped, and he had the taste of smoke in his mouth, but you didn’t mind, it finally tasted good, and moving your hands to his neck, you let him press his body against yours, the lower half of his body only covered by one of your towels.
He wasn’t hard, but you could feel something poking at the front of your jeans, and you wanted him to lay on your bed, so after a couple of long minutes, and just after he had enough of your mouth, you murmured something.
‘’Let’s go to my bed’’ you begged with hazy eyes and weak legs, leaning onto him, who was holding you with his body against your closet doors.
He nodded, and taking your hand, he guided you there, making you sit and look up to him.
Your lights were on, and you felt nervous, you had never had sex with the lights on, you only had a couple of partners, and they always turned them off before fucking you.
‘’You can turn off the lights if you want’’ you said, looking at him in the eyes.
He didn’t answer, his hand went to your cheek, and he pressed the tips of his fingers over your skin, caressing it and then brushing your wet lips after all his kisses, slightly red and plump thanks to the way his lips covered them.
He didn’t acknowledge what you said, bending down to retake the contact between both mouths.
Full of life, unlike his usual demeanor, eager, he pushed you to your back, making you receive him between your legs.
Slightly harder, you felt the border of his boner only covered by the fabric damp your jeans, but he didn’t stop kissing you, one hand lying on your neck and the other helping him stay still over you to not let all his weight crush you.
You opened your legs as much as you could with the jeans stopping you from going too far.
 ‘’You know what I’ll do to you’’ he said after a minute.
You nodded.
‘’I won’t stop’’ he warned.
‘’I don’t want you to’’ you answered.
You knew no one was going to save you from that place, it wasn’t his job, so you’d accept this as enough, and you’d let him go without resentment and an I should’ve done it.
‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked, afraid of hurting you more.
‘’I want this to happen’’ you said, making him look at you, caress your cheek once again, and give you another kiss before his hands went to your button and helped you take your jeans off.
Sliding the clothing off your legs, he pushed your thighs wide open, and feeling the texture of the towel, his now hard cock against your clothed clit made you whimper.
‘’It feels good’’ you said, to what he agreed with you.
‘’It feels good’’ he affirmed.
He did soft movements to stimulate you with his cock, only letting you feel what would soon be inside you.
Looking at your eyes flutter, he pushed up your shirt, showing him your black bra hugging your chest.
Touching the skin uncovered by your cups, he pressed his thumb to see how far it could sink into your skin.
Your chest was bigger than normal, just like your tummy, but he liked it, it looked comforting and soft, perfect for him to rest a little bit, after his exhausting life, it looked like a taste of paradise.
You pushed his hands while taking your shirt off without asking, to then unhook your bra and toss it to the floor.
‘’Touch me properly’’ you said, making him snicker.
You had forgotten how that little grin looked like, and you smiled when it appeared again.
‘’Okay,’’ he replied, unabashedly grabbing both tits and groping them, looking at how the skin flooded his grip between fingers, and feeling good with both sensations, his cock against your cunt, and his hands in your chest, you closed your eyes and moaned, moving your head to your side and cover your mouth with the back of your hand.
He didn’t let you hide yourself for long, making you open your mouth for him and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, obliging you to let the moans out.
Your panties were incredibly wet, and he left one of your tits free to sneak a hand inside them.
Juices gladly receiving him, he groaned when he felt you dripping all over his fingers.
Without asking, just like when you took your shirt, he introduced a finger.
You cried with his mouth over yours.
His finger was long, and it sent a delicious shock to your core, making you frown at how good it felt.
‘’More’’ you begged, and he gladly obliged, pushing one more finger to make scissoring motions and prepare you for him.
‘’Shit, it’s begging for it’’ he groaned when he heard how much your insides were squelching, asking for him to fill you up.
‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, listening to his nasty approbations telling you how good you’d take him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill that sweet pussy of yours.
Fucking you with his fingers, you moaned as much as you wanted, not caring to hide anymore, it was your only night with him, so you decided to not hold anything.
His mouth went to your nipple, tits falling to the sides of how heavy they were and shaking with his attention to your cunt.
He licked them, first with just the tip of his tongue, but then let it flat so it covered your buds and made you shake even more.
‘’Su- so good’’ you cried.
His fingers were making you dizzy, and you had to get up on your elbows to see his hand inside your panties moving to make you cum.
It was hard to see yourself like that, so naked, so exposed.
You couldn’t hide the way your tummy rolls were in front of his eyes, the marks on your skin, or the way your big tits didn’t look perfect on your body, but he seemed to not care, even liking it, guiding his mouth to your nipples again and looking into your eyes when he left soft pecks over them.
‘’You’re going to cum for me, right?’’ he murmured when you started to clench over him.
‘’I-I don’t know’’ you cried, never having an orgasm with your partners before, you didn’t know if that was an orgasm, or what the hell was it.
‘’You’re going to’’ he didn’t ask, ‘’and it’s because of my fingers, so good’’ he pushed his fingers faster and harder, stretching your panties with how brutal he was.
You couldn’t maintain your position and dropped over your back, crying with your walls pulsating around him.
‘’That’s it, so fucking good, my good girl’’ he said still moving his fingers.
You tried to push his hand away, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tears falling down your cheeks of overstimulation, and he stopped when you left a singular loud cry out, but only to take off your messed underwear and toss the towel wrapping his hips.
He let you take a second to breathe properly again, and pushing up your legs, he made you show him your glossy cunt, lips open and ready for him.
He couldn’t help it, it was all shiny and pretty, he had to taste it a little bit, and sinking to his knees over the floor, he pulled your body to the border of the bed, mouth going directly to your pussy.
Drinking your orgasm, the slurping sound was so nasty you had to put your hands over your face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
‘’That’s too much’’ you tried to stop him, but he, mouth still stuck to your entrance, and nose poking at your clit, denied with his head, smearing your arousal over his face.
‘’You have no idea all the things I want to do to you’’ he replied, pushing his thumb to your opening, and pressing his tongue over your clit this time.
You cried, hands going to his wet hair and trying to pull him away, but he was stronger than you, and you never had a chance to stop him.
You couldn’t fight him, so you wanted to finish quickly instead, hips jolting to feel him more and grasp that sweet second orgasm you felt coming.
About to call his name, he separated and said something before going back to his work.
‘’Lee Tang’’ he said, and that was enough for you to know what he meant.
That was his name, not Gyeong-su, but Lee Tang, and you thought, that fits him a lot more.
‘’Lee… Tang’’ you said as you could, and then the only thing that came out of your mouth was a ton of Tang, Tang, repeating proudly his real name.
You were so close that you could feel your toes curling, walls ready to let your orgasm free and relax again, and your back was curving, your body needing to cum once again because of him.
But he was so cruel.
He stopped, and getting up his knees, he thumbed your clit, flicking the little button a couple of times before he slid his dick between your lips, making you feel his length resting over you.
‘’Please, I’m so close, please’’ you saw the light of your room above him, watching his dark eyes examine you, searching for another answer in your eyes.
You left a disappointed cry when he, instead of touching, walked away to grab his jacket hung next to yours, and sitting, you saw him pull a little box from his pocket.
So that’s why he made me wait for him outside, you thought, he didn’t want you to see what he was buying.
Opening the film package, you saw him sliding the condom over his member with experience, walking back at you and showing you how it looked, slightly jumping over the air, standing hard and thick, and pushing you to your back again, he pressed his tip on your entrance, making you clench over it, and nodded to your past pleading. ‘’You deserve it’’ he said before pushing his member inside.
He didn’t let you adjust, but you didn’t need it, you just wanted him to keep moving, and soon that soft pace wasn’t enough for you.
‘’Fuck’’ you couldn’t hold the curses in your throat.
It felt so good, the weight of his member inside, pushing the limits of your walls, taking what he wanted from you, it was so good your hands searched for something of him to grip, finding his hands over your hips to maintain you in your place for him.
‘’Tang, so good, please make me cum’’ you cried.
One of his hands interlocked with yours, helping you find comfort between all the intense sensations your insides were feeling.
You looked so good under him, your chubby torse facing him, showing him everything he wanted to see, and your thighs jiggling with each of his thrusts.
You were close, and so was he, but he needed something more, a little thing that had been wandering inside his mind since he started to see you differently.
‘’Can you turn for me?’’ he asked, needing to see your pretty ass taking him.
Not answering, you immediately crawled further in your bed, and searching for your pillow, you hugged it, pressing your face to your bedsheets and showing him your ass without any ounce of shame left.
‘’Fuck me’’ you begged again, opening your lips with your fingers and showing him your entrance gaping around nothing, ‘’Tang, please fuck me.’’
His breath stopped, he had never seen something that bold and hot before, and he admired your needy side calling for him to calm you.
Going to you, he pushed his entire length inside, bottoming out and pushing it inside in a single thrust to see your gorgeous back and thick thighs trembling with his cock.
You were crying and hugging your pillow, shoulders becoming smaller and one of your hands on your back searching for his to hold it again.
Lee Tang, not daring to ignore you, his good girl, like that, held your hand.
‘’You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you, and now you can’t take it?’’ he teased, not liking how much he was spoiling you.
‘’No, I can take it, please don’t stop’’ you implored, feeling his hard and fast thrusts pushing your sanity away.
He didn’t care how weak he was to you, feeling your walls wrapping around him like that was like nothing he had felt before, watching the curves of your waist interrupted with your little fat rolls, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with his strength, taking his cock like a gift, and your hand not letting him go even with how hard he was being with you, was everything he ever needed.
Hearing your sweet moans and cries all out when you came, with your sweet walls fluttering around him, pushed the last string inside him, and he pressed his cock inside you to let everything out in the condom.
‘’Tang-‘’ you gripped his hand harder.
‘’Yes baby, I’m cumming’’ he exhaled, letting all inside you.
 ‘’Okay’’ you said happy.
He wished he could stay connected to you forever, but he couldn’t, and he had to pull out of you to make sure the condom, and you, were alright.
Going to the bathroom to toss it in the trash, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself with how relaxed he looked.
Tense all the time, he saw his eyes drowsy, ready to rest the whole night.
You, lying on your side to catch your breath, hoped that he could at least spend this night with you, his last night there, but maybe that was too much to ask.
When he came you didn’t look at him, and he simply accommodated behind you, spooning you with a hand over your tummy, letting his hand land there, and sighed.
‘’Let’s get inside the covers, the night is cold’’ he murmured, and you followed his request.
Under your bedsheets, a lot warmer thanks to the fabric and his skin, your mind started to drift away, so you looked at him one last time before falling asleep, closing your eyes when he left a last kiss over your lips.
When you woke up you were alone, feeling incredibly sore, and sad.
You stood up to drink a glass of water, not thinking much about how lonely you felt, concentrating on what would you do later that day to fill your head.
Would you be able to stay? You doubted it, you had too many memories here, and maybe the driver was right, all of you would leave one day.
You were about to go back to bed when you saw a little note next to your electric kettle.
I’ll come back in three weeks was written, and you closed your eyes, happy to not be abandoned again.
You had to stay so he could find you, that was your home now.
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