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sadhours · 1 year

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neon lights pt. 5 | b.h & reader

18+ minors dni | prev. chapter

warnings: adult themes, gambling, smut, group sex, degradation kink, slapping, unprotected sex

Matted, sticky patterned carpet under Billy’s feet, the stale cigarette smoke flooding his nose and the triumphant rings of the slots is what home is starting to feel like. It’s shameful, sure but every goddamn other soul in this place feels the same way he does and that’s enough to sweep the guilt under the rug. There’s a song playing, he thinks it might Genesis but it’s muffled by the clicking of buttons, voices murmuring and the shrill tones from the slot machines. He chews on his bottom lip, fingers inching into his left breast pocket so he can light up a Marlboro Red while he anticipates his next move; where will he start first? Sometimes, Billy needs to warm up, sit at the bar and play a couple or ten hands of video poker, deuces wild is his favorite. Other times, he’s straight for the tables. Not as often, he parks his ass at a slot machine. He doesn’t like doing the slots as much because he can get stuck there for hours and that’s dangerous. The cocktail waitresses are oh so sweet and with his mind preoccupied with the flash of colors and the numbers rising or falling, he loses track of just how many times he’s asked for a beer and when he goes to stand finally, he’ll realize he’s absolutely shitfaced and a hundred bucks poorer. He can’t do slots tonight. At least not yet.

This morning, you’d taken the money Chip so graciously gave to you and paid rent, without accepting Billy’s half. So this is just extra money as far as he’s concerned and what better to do with it than bring it to Bally’s and see what he can make of it. Many things, definitely. A whopping $220 burning a hole in his pocket. He could get a haircut, he could buy some new clothes— boots; his boots are fucked and the duct tape isn’t going to hold them together much longer. They’re wildly uncomfortable but Billy’s gotten good at making do with what he has. See, the problem is he’s got this nagging voice in back of his head that tells him he could double or hell, maybe even triple the money. He rarely does, but the voice doesn’t remind him of that.

Billy takes his place at the bar closest to the doors, nods to the bartender he’s gotten to know pretty well and slides a twenty into the machine. He maneuvers the buttons until he’s pulled up Deuces Wild and he’s betting a dollar. If he completely fucks it, that’ll give him twenty hands but that’s unlikely. And that’s why he likes to start with this game. The bartender places the Budweiser and an ashtray in front of him.

“Good day at work?” she grins, Billy doesn’t show up to Bally’s unless he’s got money. When he’s broke, he takes his happy ass to the Coin Castle.

“It’s my day off,” he smirks, sliding a dollar for her tip before reaching for the bottle of beer.

She giggles, flipping her blonde hair back as she grabs the bill, “Lucky you.”

“Let’s hope so,” he mumbles, his fingers pressing against the buttons with ease, holding a queen, a jack and a king, all of the same suit. His heart beats a little faster and the rushing feeling in his stomach picks up. Billy loves that feeling more than anything. It’s better than listening to a great guitar riff. It’s superior to blowing his load. There’s nothing like it.

A ten of clubs and a four of hearts. Fuck. With the flick of his finger, he’s dealt a new hand, the loss forgotten in an instant.

“Ya know…” the bartender hasn’t moved away, she’s twirling her hair between her fingers as she continues, “I’m off in an hour. A couple of us girls are going to go dancing. Maybe you’d like to come.”

You come to Billy’s mind in an instant, he’s got to pick you up from the club at 2 but he does consider it. You were pretty adamant about this not being an exclusive thing. It’s only dancing. Billy likes to dance when he’s drunk enough. It’s not probable that he’ll be drunk in an hour. Plus, he’s just got here.

“Well, sweetheart, come find me in an hour and if I’m not winning, I’ll join ya,” he smiles at her, flicking his ash into the tray before glancing back down to the game. He deals himself another hand and he’s got two deuces wild and a queen of hearts to hold. He’s got a three of a kind guaranteed but the possibilities are endless. He nudges his thumb against the button and is pleased to see a Royal Flush with deuces.

He grins and the bartender sighs, “Looks like we’ll be dancing without you.”

Billy shakes his head but the euphoria spreading through him hopes this doesn’t jinx him, “You know how these things go.”

“Shh,” she winks at him as she saunters over to the other gentleman at the bar.

His next hand is a bust but Billy expects it. He pushes for several hands and then it crawls up slowly, hand after hand he's getting straights and flushes. He gets four deuces after his third beer and he cashes out, tipping the blonde bartender more than he should before he decides to grab himself some chips. Roulette’s been calling his name since he got here.

There’s two tables to choose from. A sad looking one with a couple of dudes, chain smoking while looking glum and another one, with older dudes in suits who have gorgeous girls in tight dresses hanging onto their sides. If Billy went to that table, he’d be the most attractive guy there but the girls wouldn’t flock to him unless he started winning. Then again, he ain’t betting like these nice suit, ugly dudes. Sad table it is.

Billy sits down, grabs a stack of chips and starts slow, bets on black and smiles brightly at the dealer. First round, he wins and because he can’t help himself, he bets more on black. Again, the little ball lands on black and weirdly enough, on the number Billy was debating on picking. Which has his gears turning, he’s gotta bet more, slides a stack of chips over to the first number that calls his name. He doesn’t even get the color right and he grumbles, reaching for his Marlboros. He checks his watch and that’s a bad sign. He orders a shot of Black Velvet and another beer from the cocktail waitress. If he’s gonna dance, he’s gotta be drunk.

Billy’s only lost about a hundred bucks when the blonde pokes his side. He turns to see her and five other girls, bouncing on their toes as they look to him.

“What’s the verdict?” she says and Billy has to look at her name tag, burn her name in his memory. Cynthia.

“Looks like I’m a dancing fool tonight, darling,” he smiles at her but it doesn’t reach his eyes. If they hadn’t come to look for him he would’ve blew through the other five twenty dollar bills in his pocket.

She does a giddy dance and then her face falls, “I mean… I’m sorry you’re losing, but I’m happy you’re coming with us.”

“You and I, both,” he chides, sliding his last chip for the dealer and following the gaggle of girls upstairs. He waits outside of their locker room, smoking down a cigarette while he downs his last beer. The girls are quick, they come out dressed in skimpy outfits that reveal so much, Billy can’t help his eyes scanning between them. He has the crude thought that he could be the pretty, pleased focal point of a fivesome but he tries not to revel in the thought. He can’t jinx himself two times tonight. He pictures your face for a split second but pushes it away quickly. He’ll be there to pick you up at 2, he can’t be held responsible for what happens in between.

“I feel like Hugh Hefner,” he smiles wide, wrapping his arms around however many girls he can manage as they walk down the hall. The comment is met with a commotion of giggles and Billy thinks he could write a fucking letter to playboy if this night goes right.

The club is packed. It’s a Friday night so it’s no shock. Eyes turn as Billy walks in with five girls on his arms. The best part is he doesn’t need to pay them. He knows that it would cost him an arm and a leg if he did. Michael Jackson is playing loud, the bass rattles Billy’s chest as he herds the women to the bar. He orders them shots of tequila and whiskey for himself. Cynthia rubs her nose against the base of his neck, rubbing his exposed chest as she whispers a thank you. The six of them cheers before downing the shots and before they disperse, Billy orders a second round. He’s not drunk enough to dance but he’s close.

Once that warm buzzing flows through his veins, he has no complaints being dragged through the crowd. He’s got one girl in front of him, another behind him and the other three in his view. They all grind together. Billy thinks of you again. He thinks of the hundreds of men who would pay for this and how all he has to do is smile pretty at the right girl for this all to happen. He’s got four hours until he needs to pick you up. That’s plenty of time.

Cynthia pulls his face close and whispers in his ear, “If you’re up for it, we’d like to show you a good time tonight.”

Billy’s not one to turn down fun. He’s fueled by promises of fun. He wouldn’t live his life any other way. Being serviced by five women at the same time might be intimidating to most men but not him. Looks like he might be penning that letter to playboy after all.

An hour goes by and then he’s being dragged out the door. His nerves are numb, the alcohol makes him brazen enough to make out with three of the girls at once in the backseat. He can’t be sure whose hands are whose. They’re all over him and the two girls in the front complain they don’t get to touch him. His dicks been excruciatingly hard since he climbed into the backseat. It’s all filth in his mind. Selfishness. Billy’s not worried about performance anxiety. His libido is wildly high. It has been since he first figured out how to jack off. There were days spent where he’d wear himself out. Addiction is a factor maybe. Billy’s not familiar with moderation, if something makes him feel good he indulges until he physically can’t anymore.

They arrive at one of the girls places. It’s a big house, out in the suburbs in a gated place. Billy’s sure whoever lives here is a sugar baby. They’ve all told him their names and he repeats them in his head, trying to picture their faces as recites them internally.

Cynthia: blonde, blue eyes, huge tits. Teresa: brunette, Asian, pretty smile. Julia: brunette, Bambi brown eyes and small chest. Jenna: blonde, bigger tits than Cynthia and a mole on the left side of her upper lip. Raquel: red hair, freckles all over and a big ass.

Billy’s got this. He can handle this. They’re all fucking stunning. Those no way in hell he can’t keep his dick hard. The gaggle of women lead him into a master bedroom. Teresa and Julia run downstairs and return with a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of champagne. Raquel disappears to find cassettes, Billy figures this must be her place but he can’t be sure. When the redhead returns, she’s putting the Warrant album Cherry Pie and your face floods Billy’s mind. He grabs the handle of whiskey and drinks from it in guzzles until he’s being pushed back on the king sized bed. Cynthia is unzipping his boots, tossing them aside and pulls his socks down. She kisses along his bare feet and in most circumstances, Billy wouldn’t be aroused but now, his dick twitches in his pants.

“Condoms?” he chokes out, the worry settling in his chest abruptly. Jenna smiles, biting her lip as she undoes the buttons of Billy’s shirt. Raquel opens the nightstand drawer and grabs a box of Magnums. She dumps it out on his stomach, settling beside his head as she rubs her hands up his chest.

Cynthia licks around his big toe and he lets out a giggle, jerking his foot away from her face. They all giggle but Teresa’s undoing his belt and licking along the corded muscles of his stomach. Billy feels on top of the world. These girls can’t keep their hands off of him. He wonders for a second if his dad would be proud but shoves the thought aside when he realizes his dad might be jealous, wouldn’t admit how cool this is and instead tell Billy how void of morals he is. Any goddamn man would be proud, but more than anything, jealous. Julia’s flicking her tongue against his left nipple and Jenna swallows his moan down, shoving her tongue in his mouth. If Billy had to pick which girls he’s most attracted to, it’d be Raquel. She’s the shyest. They all work at Bally’s but she’s the one who averts eye contact the most. Billy had fantasized about her before. He smoothes his hand down Raquel’s back and squeezes her ass.

The girls collectively undress him before they undress themselves and Billy’s not sure where to look. His eyes dart amongst them, his erection against his stomach is aching and red. He can feel himself leaking. Raquel is kissing against his cheek while Teresa and Jenna simultaneously lick his cock, Cynthia is still focused on his feet and ankles which tickles but he’s distracted enough for it to feel good. There’s so many hands on his body. It’s all so wonderful. Billy turns to capture Raquel’s lips in his own, reaching between her legs to drag his fingers through her folds. She’s soaking wet and it makes him groan into the kiss.

He mumbles against the redheads lips, “Lemme taste your pussy.”

She gives a squeal before she’s straddling his face. He wraps his hand around her thighs, squeezing as he pulls her heat to his lips. She tastes good. Billy loves the taste of pussy. Every girl is distinctly different but there’s a similarity amongst them. Something that gets his body going. He thrusts his hips up at it, the two women below chasing it. He closes his eyes, he’s got to focus on not busting his load too quickly. There’s two tongues dragging against his cock and another pair licking at his balls. The man’s in heaven. Raquel grabs onto his curls, making a slew of whimpers and mewls. He has to open his eyes to look at her. Her face is totally fucked out, her tits bouncing as she rides his face. He growls against her and she looks down, lips parted obscenely as she cries out.

“I’m gonna cum already,” she complains with a whine which has Billy lapping at her cunt that more excitedly.

“No fair,” he hears a voice below.

Raquel comes against his face with a scream, writhing against him before pulling off him as she tries to catch her breath. It’s like a queue after that, each girl straddling his face one after the other to cum. He’s impressed that he’s able to hold off himself while he gets all five girls off with tongue, one right after the other.

Raquel hasn’t had enough, she’s grabbing a condom and ripping the packaging open before slipping it over his aching cock. She slips him inside her with ease and then Jenna’s grabbing a hold of Raquel’s hips, guiding her movements as she licks at the redheads tits. Cynthia and Julia are lapping against each of his nipples and it’s not something Billy had ever considered arousing but fuck does it feel good. Four beautiful faces looking at him and then he feels a tongue against his balls again. Teresa must be down there, she’s the only one not accounted for.

“Let me try,” Jenna begs, eyes flicking up to Raquel’s face. The redhead pouts but pulls off of Billy’s cock and drags the condom off of his length with her nimble fingers. Jenna supplies another, sinking down on Billy’s cock with such ease it makes him grunt. It’s all overwhelming and Billy’s on the fast track to busting, it’s too much at once and Jenna bounces on his cock maybe five times and he’s unloading into the condom, a cry leaving his lips as he thrusts up into it. He knows himself well. He can come one more time before he’s toast and an inkling inside of him wants to save it up for you.

Then Billy’s imagining you in a similar situation. Not you as one of the five girls pleasing him but the opposite. He pictures you with five dudes and within a split second, he’s dick is soft. He feels incredibly embarrassed as it happens but he sits up pushing the girls away from him. He’s… he’s jealous, images of you with five cocks that aren’t his podding and poking you and he’s angry. He gasps, catching his breath while five pairs of doe eyes look up at him.

“Fuck… I have to go,” he scrambles out of the bed, whisking up his clothes as he stands.

“Billy,” Cynthia scoffs, “We just started.”

He jumps into his jeans, “And it was fun… but fuck, I’m sorry. I just… I have a woman.”

“Oh?” Raquel breaths, looking up at him with shame in her eyes.

“Like not, really…” he exhales, pushing curls off of his forehead, “I just realized I’m in love.”

Billy understands that’s not what you should say to five naked girls in a bed but it’s the damn truth. All of them look at him disappointed as he steps into his boots and pulls his shirt over his shoulders. He’s still being bombarded with images of you being fucked by five different dudes and it makes his stomach turn something crazy. He’s angry with you and it’s misplaced anger and he’s totally aware. He’s more mad at himself but there’s an ego not letting it seep in.

“I’ll get a cab. You girls keep having fun,” he says, slipping into his boots. The redhead follows I’m downstairs, grabbing his wrist before he can open the front door.

“You won’t find a cab out there,” she whispers, “Let me call you one.”

Billy sighs, leaning against the door as he looks at her. She’s gorgeous and he could have her. But she isn’t you, and that fact punches him in the face. He’s made a grave mistake.

“She must be real special,” Raquel says as she dials the number, holding the phone to her ear.

“If I gave this up,” he groans, “Then I’ve got to be a fucking idiot. But yeah… she’s special.”

Billy’s chain smoking when you make it to the Camaro. The alcohol has seem to worn off. He’s wracked with guilt. You can practically smell it on him when you climb in.

“What the hell did you do?” you ask, snatching the Marlboro from him.

He finds himself honest, for some reason. He sighs, “I was just with five girls. In some fucking mansion…”

“And you gave it up to come pick me up,” you purse your lips.

You’re jealous for sure but he’s not your boyfriend. You set these boundaries for a reason. And you wouldn’t be caught dead going back on your word.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds like he means it.

“You fucked them,” you exhale, tilting your head, “All five? Is your dick still attached?”

“I didn’t… hey, I said I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“By all means, fuck who you want,” you shrug, “You’re not my boyfriend, Billy.”

“I thought of you, getting absolutely trained,” he says with a chuckle, “And my dick went soft.”

“I wasn’t the one having an orgy,” you bite back, “Drop me off. Go back to them.”

Billy shifts the gears, peeling out of the clubs parking lot in seconds.

“Billy… I’m not mad… I mean, I hope you were safe,” you explain, “You haven’t been safe with me and maybe I should’ve like…”

He interrupts you, “You’re literally the only girl I’ve skipped that with.”

You’re a bit stunned. You haven’t slept with anyone besides Billy since you two had sex the first time.

“In your whole life?”

“Yeah,” he seethes, he sounds so angry you’re a little worried. Then he softens, “I like… I don’t know. I wanted to feel you.”

Your heart beats faster. And you are mad. But you’re also flustered. He just had five eager women ready to do whatever he asked and he ended it to come pick your sorry ass up.

“I take it you didn’t win big tonight.”

It’s a low blow but hell, you hate gambling. It tore your family apart and you really don’t see the appeal. But Billy loves it. You’ve seen the way his breath hitches before every hand, before every push at the slot.

“As long as I have you, I’m winning.”

You don’t reply. You can’t.

“Goodnight,” you tell him as you get into the apartment. You don’t give him a second glance because you are mad. You’re mad he cared enough about you to stop his porno come to life. Boyfriends are bad news and Billy is not your boyfriend. He’s strictly your roommate with gorgeous eyes and a great dick.

“Whatever,” he huffs before stalking off to the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on and you crash onto your bed, peeling your clothes off along the way.

When he’s crawling into your bed an hour later, you stiffen. This isn’t okay. He should go to his own room with his tail between his legs. It’s not even the sex you’re mad about.

You straddle his waist, pushing his shoulders hard against the mattress.

“I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Billy Hargrove,” you spit, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he mumbles beneath you, “Talk dirty to me.”

You slap his face, hard while you peer down at his moonlit face. You hate how fucking gorgeous he is. His eyes look excited and he lets out this breathy gasp that has your pussy aching.

“I mean it. You’re stupid, you had five girls all over you and you think I’m a better lay,” you seethe, grabbing onto his jaw and pushing his head back against your pillows. “Five pussies are better than one.”

Billy lets out this aroused whimper and you slap him again. He’s so foolish. You’ve had men this smitten before. None of them nearly as pretty as him but still. Sometimes your job was scolding men for wanting you. But he’s not paying you. He actually knows you.

“If you think I’m touching your disgusting dick then you are soooo fucking stupid,” you whisper, digging your fingernails into the sides of his puffy cheeks. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

Your words are mean but it’s obvious they turn him on, you can feel it between your legs. Hard against his briefs. You’d be a big fat liar if you insisted you weren’t wet from the interaction. You don’t get it. He had five women, easy. He could have any woman easy but he crawled into your bed.

“Say it,” you press, “Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“Shut up,” he bites back and you slap him again.

“I mean it,” you knit your eyebrows together, “It’s fucking sad. You were just a cock to them and you’re just a cock to me.”

Billy’s throat makes this groveling whine and you can feel his cock twitch against you.

“They were sweet,” you pout, shoving your thumb in his mouth, “they made you feel special. But you’re only ever something to fuck.”

You grind against him, mind reeling at the way he sucks on your thumb. You’ve had power like this during sex, but it’s incredibly intoxicating when it’s over Billy. You ache to hear him begging.

“You want me to fuck you? After that?” you tsk, “As if you’re worthy to be inside me.”

He bites your thumb and you bellow out a laugh, pulling it out so you can smack his face again.

“You’re so goddamn lucky you’re pretty,” you tell him, “If you didn’t make me so wet, I wouldn’t fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” he pants out, desperately.

The desire dripping his voice is decadent. You almost lose focus. He’s so easy. And you’ve had your share of easy men. But none of them were sex wrapped in tan muscles and a sweet face to boot. Damn him for being so sexy. Billy was good too, he knew it didn’t take much for him to flip the roles but he liked this too all to well.

“You think you deserve my pussy?”

“No,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “but I need it.”

“Yeah?” you purr, “You could’ve had five women, easily. Fuck who’s to say you didn’t fuck all of them and now here I am, getting the fucking leftovers.”

“Only two,” he whines and you notice how his fists clench at your sides, he’s fighting himself to give you this control and it almost ends it all. You feel stupid for wanting him so badly. It makes you slap him again, which he preens at, obviously liking the punishment. Goddamn him. If you were in fact his girlfriend, this would be relationship ending news. But Billy… is Billy, and unfortunately he’d need to do a lot worse to put out the fire you have for him.

“You’re so stupid,” you remind him, pulling at his blonde curls, “I should be kicking you out of my bed.”

“But you’re not,” he says, breathlessly.

“Yet,” you threaten as you lower your mouth to his, crashing your lips in a bruising kiss. “You make me so fucking sick.”

It’s true, but he makes you feel more wanted than you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s extremely dangerous.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbers, jerking his hips up to meet yours.

“No, you’re not,” you laugh, “You like being a whore. Huh? Makes you feel like such a hot shot, having all these dumb sluts throw themselves at you?”

Billy grunts, finally moving his hands to grab your jaw and pull your lips against his. You can’t help but melt into it. You’re writhing against him, allowing him a sliver on control because he just feels that amazing and you’d give him anything he asked in a heartbeat.

“Baby,” he whines against your lips, “I need you so bad. I need you. I want you. I don’t care about anyone else…”

“Fuck you,” you fume as you grip his face, it’s all the words you want him to say but you cannot believe. This is just sex. He needs to know that. You can’t afford to have Billy being possessive of you. Everything quite literally banks on you being available, or at least the illusion you are.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” you repeat, “You're nothing to besides a hard cock and a pretty face.”

Billy laughs, it’s soft and sweet which takes you out of this role for a second. You can faintly see his face in the moonlight, the way his eyes crinkle and the pearly white of his teeth as you stare down at him.

“Boyfriend or not,” he sings, “I’m the only one you’ve fucked in months. And hell, darling, that counts for something.”

Your face reddens because he’s caught onto you. The way you’re berating him is because you’re jealous and jealousy is dangerous in your field, granted you don’t actually fuck around with the patrons of the club but you try to make them think you would. It’s the job.

“What made you stop? Really?” you lean over and flick on the lamp on your bedside table. You want to see his face.

“I thought about how I’d feel if you were with five dudes,” he whispers, looking up at you.

“And you felt guilty.”

He nods, trailing his fingers up your arms. He looks ashamed. You can feel it emanating off of him.

“Well don’t,” you try to mean it, “We’re just friends with benefits.”

Billy bites his lower lip and nods, “Why aren’t you sleeping with other people then?”

“I’m busy,” you shrug, which isn’t the truth. You we’re approached the other night but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The other guy was attractive, but he wasn’t Billy. He didn’t make your stomach fill with butterflies.

“Might be easier for me if you did, though. ‘Cause, darling, I feel like a piece of shit right now,” he drawls as he wraps his fingers around your hips.

“Yet, you’re still hard,” you giggle as you grind against him.

Billy bites his lip as he squeezes your hips, “I have the sexiest chick on top of me, there’d be something seriously wrong if I wasn’t hard. Plus… the way you were talking to me…” his face flushes as he admits, “so fucking hot.”

“Sexist?” you smirk down at him, rolling your hips slowly before leaning down to press your lips against his. You’ve got no clue where his mouth has been tonight but you’re happy to kiss him anyways. He doesn’t taste any different, the smoke from his cigarette present as well as a hint of whiskey. Maybe a bit of mint, he definitely brushed his teeth. His admission to being aroused by your degrading surges a searing desire through you but there’ll be a different time to explore that.

“Mhm,” he mumbles into your mouth before sliding his tongue against yours and jerking his hips up at you. You pull up off him enough to get his briefs down, lowering yourself so you can drag your heat against his shaft. Billy groans, deep and guttural as you coat his cock this your wetness.

“Need to fuck you so bad,” he purrs.

“Then fuck me,” you pant out and in an instant, Billy’s flipping you two over and pinning you against the mattress. You feel his heavy cock against your thigh while he starts sucking on your neck, no doubt leaving marks that you choose not to care about in the moment. He grabs your leg and props your ankle up on his shoulder. It burns but only slightly. He grabs a hold of his dick and slips inside of you, raw. You gasp out, eyes widening as he gives you no time to adjust, slamming all the way inside you. Billy doesn’t go slow either. He hammers away, rocking his hips into you hard and fast.

“Fuck, Billy!” you cry out, your back arching as you clench around his length, “Mmm, oh, god.”

“Take it,” he grunts out, “Take my cock like a good girl.”

Your eyes cross from the sensation, mind going cloudy as the only thing you can focus on is the excruciatingly wonderful drag of him against your walls. Nothing else exists besides you two in this moment. You cling onto his sweaty back, uncontrollable sounds tumbling from your lips as your body jostles from his movements. Whenever Billy gets his cock inside you, you go dumb. He fills you in a way you’ve never felt before and you’re left in this blissful state. Sex had always been about getting off or getting the other person off. With Billy, the whole experience feels amazing. There’s not a time when you’ve wanted him to just hurry up and get it over with. It’s the attention, maybe. Billy manages to make you feel special during this. It’s the eye contact, the noises he makes and the kissing. You’ve had too many experiences where the guys closing his eyes or you are. It’s always felt like one party or the other isn’t totally there. Not with Billy. No, whenever you two have sex, you’re both fully and completely in it.

“You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” he coos, pushing your hair off your face. Oh, yeah, the talking. He talks so much. Words of praise, degrading shit, you love it all.

“Feels so good,” you lamely blubber, unable to really think of anything else to say besides his name.

He chuckles, grabbing a hold of the back of your thighs and opening you up even more for him. Your ankle falls off his shoulder at the motion but he doesn’t falter. You whine, knitting your fingers in his dirty blonde curls and tugging on them. He adjusts his position just slightly and the angle of it has the head of his cock rubbing the spongy spot deep inside you expertly. You cry out and then Billy licks his fingers before rubbing them against your clit. You melt, bucking up to meet his thrusts and then your orgasm hits you hard, a throaty moan leaving your lips while you seize against him.

“Fuck…” he whines, collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips hard against yours. The kiss is sloppy, Billy’s licking into your mouth haphazardly as he thrusts into you harder and faster. Your cling onto him, spreading your legs and writhing against his movements.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you admit, without really thinking about it and he inhales sharply.

His moans into your mouth, his hips stilling for a second and you feel his cum coating your walls. He twitches a bit on top of you, breathing heavily as he gives a few softer thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck… fuuuck,” he growls and then pulls out of you.

You feel his cum leaking out of you but then Billy’s fingers collect it and push it up through your folds.

“Oh,” you moan, locking your eyes onto his while he does it.

He kisses you again, more lazy this time and when he lays beside you, you ask him, “Better than your orgy?”

Billy laughs, softly, “So much better.”

Billy wakes with a splitting headache and his stomach churning. His entire body is sore, particularly his face. Never in his damn life did he think he’d get off on getting slapped but he reveled in it last night, he wanted you to punish him for the dumb shit he pulled but Billy was a little concerned that you still wanted to sleep with him after he admitted to his tryst with the women.

He rolls over, puts his arm around your waist and tugs you close to him, burying his nose in your neck. You make a sleepy sound that’s got him squeezing you tighter and chuckling against your skin. He smoothes his hand over your back until he meets your bare ass, squeezing the flesh and kissing against your shoulder.

“Billy,” you whine, “What time is it?”

He heaves a sigh before turning over and grabbing his watch off the nightstand. “Three,” he says, “We could get away with another hour of sleep.”

“I need to shower,” you pout, turning to face him.

He remembers coming in your hair the night before and winces, you probably should’ve showered afterwards. He sits and stretches his arms, scolding himself internally for getting so plastered knowing he had to work the next day. But it’s routine for him, he’s hungover at work more often than not.

“Well, come on, princess,” he delivers a soft smack to your ass before climbing out of the comfort of your bed, “Let’s rub a dub.”

“You’re so lame,” you chuckle, propping yourself up on your hands as you watch him walk to the bathroom, eyes following his plump ass the whole way. It’s a view you don’t think you could go without at this point.

The shower is lazy, you lean on Billy the whole time and he carefully washes your hair for you. You’re not sure how long you two stand in there, Billy’s chest pressed to your back while he runs his hands all over you. It’s so comfortable you don’t want to get out, but the water goes cold and Billy’s maneuvering around you to turn off the flow. He kisses your cheek, stepping out and retrieving a towel for you. You dry off and watch as he opens the medicine cabinet and grabs his leave-in conditioner and curl cream.

“You take far better care of your hair than I do,” you inform him which he chuckles in reply. You find yourself entranced in watching his movements, the way he rakes the products through his curls and scrunches the ringlets up. When you realize you’ve been staring and the tightness in your chest, you force yourself to your room to get dressed. Friends with benefits, you repeat the term in your head over and over. Just sex. It can’t be anything more.

Luckily, you both work the same shift tonight. As you’re finishing up your makeup, Billy wanders into your room and knocks against the doorframe.

“I made you some food,” he says and you turn to see he’s dressed in a navy button up and tight Levi’s. His chest is exposed as per usual and his hair has air dried beautifully, the dirty blonde curls surround his head making him look almost ethereal.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you smile as you follow him into the kitchen. He’s already dished you a plate of eggs, bacon and hash browns. Above your plate is a cup full of black coffee, with your creamer and sugar placed next to it.

“I would make your coffee but I didn’t wanna fuck it up,” he admits as he sits down, digging into his own food.

You lift the carton and pour in a little bit, scooping in the sugar and mixing it up. As you bring the cup up to your lips, you grin up at him, “So was it super embarrassing when you stopped your orgy?”

Billy chokes on his coffee, eyes widening as he takes another sip to calm his throat, “You’re a brat. Yes, actually, it was. My dick went soft in like a split second.”

You laugh, reaching for a slice of bacon, “Record time for you, huh? I can’t get that thing to go away.”

“It likes you, a lot,” he smirks, raising an eyebrow as he looks to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” your face flushes, the admittance that you like it at just as much on the tip of your tongue. “What did you tell them?” you settle on instead.

Billy maneuvers in his seat, leaning back so he can crack his shoulders, “That’s even more embarrassing than losing my hard-on.”

You giggle before shoveling more of your breakfast down. Then you’re hit with sudden panic that Billy told them he had a girlfriend or something worse, like maybe he was in love with someone and couldn’t do this anymore. You decide not to push the issue further. After you two have cleaned the kitchen up, Billy ushers you out to the car so you guys can head to work.

“Hargrove!” Becky shouts as soon as the two of you walk into the club, “Get your ass back here, I’m drowning.”

Billy leans close to kiss you and quickly catches his mistake, pulling away and scratching the back of his neck, “Uh…”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, pushing through the crowded bar before you’re disappearing into the dressing rooms.

Billy groans softly, quickly walks behind the bar and starts counting his till. It’s not more packed than usual but Billy notices the till is fucked up. There’s bill’s in the wrong places and no one’s or quarters. He exhales sharply, counting out what he needs and shoving the rest in the leather bag before squatting down to the safe and entering in the code. He’s technically not supposed to have the power to do this, but Didi really likes him and he’s the only bartender who knows the code. Billy’s had the temptation to steal money from it but quickly pushed it away because Didi is the type to press charges and it’s just not worth it. He likes working here.

Once his till is in order, he’s pouring two shots of whiskey and handing one to Becky. They down them in quick succession and then he begins taking orders. There’s got to be at least six bachelor parties here tonight. He’s got ten shot glasses lined up and a bottle of Black Velvet in his hand when he hears the emcee announce your first dance. It’s a damn fight to resist the urge to look up and watch you. Somehow, he manages, doing the quick math in his head after he pours the shots to tell the guy his total. The asshole only tips Billy a dollar, grins wide when he tells him to keep the change. Batting his eyelashes and pouting his lips, Billy tells him, “Aw, sweetheart! You’re too kind.”

The chance for aggression is a good distraction from you but the guy just snorts before they take their shots and head towards the stage.

“Guess what I did,” Billy says to Becky once they’ve got the crowd under control.

“Told Ms. Cherry you’re in love with her?” Becky bites back as she nods up to you on stage.

Billy furrows his brows together, “No.” He smirks at her before saying cheekily, “I had a six-some.”

“No, you didn’t,” she says, her face contorting in disgust, “Your dick is gonna shrivel up and fall off. And that’d serve you right, you gross pig.”

Billy laughs, a loud bellow that makes his stomach ache, “Well the little champ was able to go again when I got home.”

“You’re telling me,” she puts down the bottle of tequila and turns to face him, “You stuck your dick in five different women and then went home and gave whatever the hell you caught to Cherry?”

“I’m very safe,” he retorts, putting his hand on his hip, “Besides, she wasn’t even mad at me.”

“Or she pretended she wasn’t mad.”

Billy sighs, eyes averting as he sees a hand flagging him down from the other end of the bar. He doesn’t know why he would tell Becky, he should’ve anticipated her disapproval. He struts to the end of the bar, not sparing a glance at the patron as he asks, “What’re we having, boss?”

“Hargrove? Billy fucking Hargrove?” the familiar voice cuts deep and Billy’s eyes snap up to see big doe eyes all wide with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Harrington? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, absolutely stunned. He spent his senior year hating this guy only to spark up a pretty abnormal friendship with him for a short couple months before he hightailed it out of Hawkins.

“Me? Oh, Tommy and Carol are getting married, I’m throwing Tommy a bachelor party. What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows up so high Billy thinks they might join his hairline. His hair is still huge, and a little longer.

Billy laughs at the news of Tommy and Carol tying the knot, remembering all the times Tommy said he didn’t want to marry her.

“Uh, I live here now,” he explains, playing with the rings on his fingers as anxiety builds up inside him. He isn’t going to admit to Steve how he got stranded here and is probably addicted to gambling. “Why Vegas? Kind of a far trip for a bachelor party.”

“But it’s the best place for it,” Steve grins.

Billy interrupts him when the emcee tells the crowd, “Give it up for Cherry!”

He puts his thumb and forefinger in his mouth to whistle, bellowing a howl after as he claps his hands.

“Sorry,” he brings his eyes back down to Steve, “Well, shit. Small world. Lots of clubs in this town but you ended up here.”

Steve shrugs, “Everyone told us to come here. Said it has the prettiest girls.”

Billy’s eyes follow your ass as you saunter backstage, “It sure does.”

“That your uh, girlfriend?” Steve gestures to the empty stage.

“Cherry? Ah, no. Roommate. Can’t date the girls that work here. Conflict of interest or something,” Billy says with a chuckle, lighting up a cigarette in attempts to calm his nerves.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t sleep with them,” Steve points out and Billy cackles back. Steve wasn’t so bad once he got to know him. They were actually pretty similar dudes.

“So, what’re you drinking, Harrington?”

“Give me five beers, whatever’s cheapest,” he say and when Billy gives him a pointed look he explains, “They’re already shitfaced and I paid for the whole trip.”

Billy shakes his head, but reaches for the five bottles and hands them over to Steve, “$10, amigo.”

Steve slides him a twenty and disappears into the crowd. Billy can’t believe it. It’s been years since he’s seen the guy. What are the odds he’d show up here?

As the night progresses, Billy can’t help but notice that you’ve gravitated to Tommy’s bachelor party. At first he didn’t think much of it but when you gave Steve a lap dance, you grabbed his hands and put them on your hips. That’s definitely not allowed and Billy feels the harsh wave of jealousy rise through him. Becky gives him a couple of looks as she’s working, checking on him and it makes Billy feel worse. He suddenly regrets not getting that redheads number from the night before. He did know where to find her, though.

#don’t hate billy #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #neon lights

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blueberryarchive · 8 months

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alt bartender!hoseok x reader

The metal reverberating through the walls. The rain it's pouring in the middle of a starless night and you wish your feet weren't soaked nor that you were this tipsy; it didn't do you any good wasting your money while your ex is the one with a new partner. You couldn't hate him; you were actually glad for him. But you could cry if you weren't so tough on yourself. The tears would be cheaper, you thought.

You took a cigarette out of your tiny bag, the little stick resting in your smudged red lips. And then you remembered, the last time you saw him, he took your lighter with him; the same one he gave you for your birthday. Okay, now you could cry.

"Fuck," you rolled your eyes, feeling a sting in them. Where were your friends? Did they left you? Did they forget about you just like him?

"Oh, shit. My bad." The stranger excused himself when he bumped with your shoulder. It was Hoseok, one of the bartender. It was his smoke break. Your eyes were as wet as the concrete but that didn't matter now.

"Do you have a lighter?" You asked seeing the cigarette clinging to his slender fingers.

"Nah. Borrowed one inside." His eyes were gentle, the smile carved like a heart and the fishnet shirt like a second skin, leather pants stopped at his v line. You couldn't stop staring and he knew; he let you, enjoyed it.

"Come here." He whispered, laughing.

He took your hand in his to get you closer, your feet moved clumsily. Almost touching forehead to forehead.

"Put your hands around the flame— yes, like that," his voice reminded you of him, but the way he's eyebrows frowned trying to light your tip with the flame of his cigarette...

You looked up to his eyes, eyeliner smudged from the long hours working inside. How didn't you notice before? Was it the alcohol or the loneliness?

He was so cool, you thought like how little boys see superheroes. You wanted to be him, but the liquor wanted you to kiss him. The proximity had you so drunk.

He caught you staring and smirked. "Long night, love?"

You didn't say anything, you took a puff to stoke the fire in the tip.

"Long relationship." you muttered. He laughed, this is the first time you heard it without the riffs and the drums drowning it. It was heavenly, contagious. Made you smile.

"Fuck him." He chuckled, staring at your lips. He was so blunt all the time, and you loved it.

"Yeah, fuck him." you interrupted. Actually, yes, fuck what you said earlier. Your ex can choke. You were not happy.

"So, those that mean you're single?" He wasn't timid about it. The fruity cocktails in your veins either.

He leaned closer and kissed you, throwing away the cigarette to the void of night. You kissed him back with so much hunger and clinginess. The one that your ex didn't let you satisfy.

"Seok," Jimin, his coworker, called and when he saw Hoseok's body almost engulfing yours, he closed the door rolling his eyes. "Hurry up, man."

"I have to go, doll face." He panted breaking the kiss, your legs trembled. With one hand he took the phone in your bag and called an Uber. "Leave your fucking friends, they're too drunk. I'll tell them you went home."

You nodded, still in pure bliss, still in heaven; in his heart-shaped lips covered in your Rouge Coco Bloom lipstick type-of-heaven. Like a work of art.

"Here." He gave you a lighter on his hands, a little H written in black marker. "See ya." He kissed your neck so softly you felt chills, and disappeared through the door.

Now you weren't so mad about loosing your lighter.

#drabble bts #bts #bts imagines #hoseok #hoseok imagine #jung hoseok #hoseok fanfic #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts drabble #hoseok one shot #hoseok drabble

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hypersonic04 · 1 year

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Part Three:

Part three, enjoy! Also, two things - I listened to False God by Taylor Swift on repeat as I wrote this, and I feel like things are moving fast between the two of them but I really struggle to write stuff where they aren't flirty so I'm sorry for the sudden progression.

Word count: 2,547

"We're having a get-together kind of thing tonight, by the way. Feel free to come," Adam mentions as we head out of the studio. Yet again, we've stayed far too late, editing and cutting bits of recordings together and changing lyrics. This has become a routine, of sorts, over the past three weeks.

"I might take you up on that offer, if you don't mind." I smile.

"It's just a thing for the label, drinks and stuff. I'll send you the details and everything."

We say our goodbyes, heading home in my now-fixed car, thank God. I don't think I could have coped with any more awkward car journeys with Ross.

Unsurprisingly, he's remained very involved over the past few weeks. It's taken every ounce of willpower in me to not walk out most days. If it's not a riff I've suggested, it's the way I've crossed out a line on a piece of paper.

Once I get home and Adam has sent me the address to the bar we're meeting at, I begin to get ready in a rush. Clouds of perfume and hairspray fill the room. I hurry my make up and haphazardly curl my hair, deciding that the messy look I've unintentionally managed to create is part of the cool-girl vibe I'm attempting to emulate. The black v-neck and leather mini-skirt seem appropriate for the event, yet I find myself overthinking everything when I remember that he's going to be there. Shoving my feet into some platform Doc's, I call a cab and wait.

The bar is so cool. Neon lights, moody chandeliers, a great playlist - the exact type of spot you would expect Matty to pick. I can already tell it's busy in there as the car pulls up, groups of people dangerously close to spilling drinks as they laugh and talk between themselves. The boom of the speakers buzzes under my feet as I make my way in, slipping past people and heading straight for the bar, feeling like the only sober person in there.

"What can I get you?"

I feel my mouth fall open as I recognise the bartender.

"Tom, oh my god!" I smile, half unsure how to navigate this situation. It's not every day that your ex-boyfriend serves you in a bar.

"Nice to see you too." He grins and I struggle to find words. "How have you been?"

"I've been good, yeah, really good." I smile, nodding. "How about you?"

"Yeah, same." He purses his lips in a soft, almost relieved smile. Our split was amicable - it hadn't been working for a while, and it made no sense for us to carry on trying to make it work.

"Are you here alone?" He frowns with a strange sort of chuckle escaping his lips.

"No," I laugh breathlessly, "It's a work thing."

"A work thing, huh?" He grins as he starts making a drink. I nod awkwardly, not really wanting to elaborate, for some reason. I'm not sure why, it's not like he can't know, right? Why wouldn't I want to tell him about the boys?

He hands me a cocktail glass filled to the brim with something that looks like it's going to give me a headache. I wince at it without even trying it.

"It's good, I promise," He gives me a toothy smile. "It's on the house."

"Tom, I can't let you give me this for free."

"Yes, you can. Consider it a 'congratulations on the work thing'." He runs a hand through his black hair and nods at me, and I realise that he won't take no for an answer as he shoos me away.

"Well, thank you." I tilt my head to the side and smile, leaving to find the table.

I spot them across the other side of the room, immediately noticing the huge smile on Ross' as he talks to Matty about something. They're sat at a table full of empty beer bottles already, and an ice bucket filled with Prosecco in the middle.

"You made it!" Matty immediately breaks off his conversation with Ross when he spots me making my way over.

"I made it." I laugh, accepting his hug and making a conscious effort not to spill my drink down the back of his very-expensive-looking suit jacket.

"Who were you talking to at the bar, eh?" He teases as he pulls away.

"None of your business." I joke. He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and I shake my head, swatting his assumptions away immediately. "It was my ex-boyfriend, it was nothing."

"Guys, Iris' ex-boyfriend works here." he decides to announce to the table. Adam lets out an airy chuckle in reply, shaking his head.

I notice Ross take a swig from the bottle of Desperado in his hand, avoiding eye contact as I glance at him. His broad shoulders are tense as he darts his eyes around the room, or rather it feels like anywhere else except me.

"Maybe he'll give us free drinks for the rest of the night." Jamie suggests, joining in on the conversation.

"Do not use my ex-boyfriend as a means of saving money, you cheapskates." I laugh, taking a seat on the plush, green sofa pushed up against the wall. Ross is sat across the table from me, and I realise that not only has the wide smile he'd had on his face disappeared, but that he was also yet to say anything upon my arrival.

The drinks flow easily, and I find myself downing cocktail after cocktail, swaying along to the music and having a good time. A recipe for disaster, really.

Looking down at my glass, I realise it's empty. The drinks had, in fact, been free all night, courtesy of Tom, and mojitos on the house is not a good thing for me to have knowledge of.

"Back again already?" He smirks from the other side of the bar, that familiar shiny, white grin making me giggle.

"Mhm, you know it," I joke. "Same again, please."

"Do you remember that time we got drunk on mojitos?" He smiles as he shakes the mixer back and forth.

"Yeah, I do." Blush rises in my cheeks as I recall the evening. The smirk on his face suggests that he does as well.

"Maybe we could go out again some time? Get drunk on cocktails again, like the good old days?"

Before I can stumble around his offer, I feel a hand on the small of my back.

"You alright?" His voice vibrates through my body as he looms beside me, looking down at me with a strange look in his eye.

"Uh, yeah," I manage to get out, my throat feeling as though it's closing up. "This is Tom. Tom, this is Ross." I say for some reason.

They exchange an awkward smile, and I recognise the look on Tom's face, the same one he used to get when random men would try chatting me up at the bars in university. I want to protest that he doesn't have to be jealous, that Ross and I aren't together, but it's like my brain can't form a sentence, as if it almost likes the idea of it.

"Are you sure you want any more to drink?" Ross says lowly, his hand still on my back firmly. It's like somehow, despite the fabric covering my body, his rough fingertips are burning into my skin.

"Yes, Ross. Actually, I do want more to drink." I turn away from him, that familiar feeling of aggravation from his comment rising again. I turn back to Tom with what I think is a flirty grin, however it could just be the alcohol surging me with a foreign confidence. "Is there a way you can make a double mojito?" I giggle, resting my palms flat on the bar top and tilting my head.

"Anything for you." He replies, subtly winking at me.

I glance at Ross, meeting his stare. My eyes dart between his and I swallow heavily, the dim light of the bar casting shadows over his features. He's wearing a white button up, contrasting with the blackness his eyes seem to be pouring into me, his rolled up sleeve and tattooed forearm on the same bar top I feel myself leaning into. He doesn't look away from me, and I watch as his pale lips part slightly.

"Double mojito." Tom's cheery voice tears me out of the black hole I felt like I was slipping into. I see Tom looking between the two of us, his lips pursed in a way that makes it seem like he's interrupting something.

"I'll pay." Ross moves his arm in front of me, holding his card to the reader.

Before I can object, Tom has the card reader held out to him, avoiding my eye line. It's like he's making some kind of point, whether that be to himself or me, and it infuriates me. He can't stand the thought of not being in control, whether that be of the band, my ideas, God knows what.

"Thank you." I smile apologetically and take the glass, spilling a little over the edge.

Ross reaches his hand out to steady mine, his fingers warm on my skin as he softly supports the glass. His eyes are trained on the drink between our hands, and I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows stiffly.

"I can hold my own glass, Ross." I try to speak with conviction, mirroring the same sarky tone he always takes with me, but I can't. My voice comes out quiet, low.

"I know you can."

It's like we're magnets - he does everything in his power to repel me, to be my opposite in every sense, but somehow, it attracts me further, and I don't know why. He's so tall as he stands in front of me, so broad like some kind of shield from the rest of the slowly-emptying bar.

I look up at him through my lashes and the proximity that we're in makes me so much more aware of the amount I've had to drink. My head is swimming, yet somehow, he's steady in front of me.

"I can't talk to you when I'm like this." I say, slipping past him and making my way back. He stays there for a few moments and I watch his shoulders rise then fall, a sigh leaving his lips. I wonder whether he felt like he couldn't breathe then, too.

I sit cross-legged on the sofa, next to George, and despite being able to take my mind off of him earlier, it's like he's the only other person in the room now. Watching him over the rim of the glass as I take a rather large sip, we make eye contact, and I feel like the air is being sucked out of my lungs. I firmly place the glass back on the marble table before me, the sound louder than I had intended with my drunken clumsiness, and leave to get some fresh air.

I gasp for air when I get outside. The air bites at my bare legs, a cool breeze brushing my hair back. I curse myself for allowing these feelings to consume me in the way they are. In the studio, I can focus, I can distract myself from his clear disapproval of me, his need to control the decisions the band makes and push me out, but when it's just the two of us? A whole different story.

I hear the door swing open, the music flowing from the bar to the smoking area I'm currently stood in, and I know that there's only one person who could push a door open with such certainty. I think back to the first time Ross and I met.

"Can you just, I don't know, not follow me out?" I say slightly louder than I expected my voice to come out, turning around on my heel and lightly throwing my arms in the air.

"Sorry, I just-" He cuts himself off.

We stand in silence, his hands shoved in his pockets and mine crossed in front of me.

"Why did you buy my drink?" The question leaves my mouth before I can contemplate it's consequences.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he wipes a hand across his beard and looks at the ground.

"Answer me, Ross."

"I didn't think it was right that he was giving us all of the drinks for free."

"Bullshit." I laugh sarcastically. "You wouldn't even pay extra for Matty's oat milk last week."

I shake my head and kick the toe of my boot into the ground, wondering whether it would be best for me to just leave. He looks as uncomfortable as I feel.

"Why are you out here, Ross?" I sigh.

"I don't know. I just followed you out, I couldn't help it."

My stomach knots as I watch him. His face is serious when he looks up at me.

"You had no right to question how much I've had to drink."

"You've had a lot."

"No, I haven't, and even if I had, it's none of your business."

"You had a full bottle of white wine to yourself."

"Why are you keeping track?"

"Iris."

The way he says my name catches me off guard. I like it. It's the fact that he rarely says it at all, choosing to ignore my mere existence 90% of the time.

"Ross." I repeat his name back to him in an attempt to bring my consciousness back, the feeling in my legs, even.

"You need to go home."

"I don't need to go anywhere."

I storm towards the door, but the thick sole of my shoe catches on the slightly risen slab beneath me.

The first thing I notice is how firm his grip is on my arm when he catches me, the size of his hands. I realise I'm gripping equally as firmly onto his biceps when I look at the proximity of our bodies. My chest is virtually pressed to his, the tips of our noses only inches apart, and I hold my breath.

"Iris, I-"

"Fucking hell, I thought you'd both gone missing or something, Was about to sort out a search party."

Matty drunkenly laughs at his own joke, stood in the doorway of the bar, hair dishevelled and his tie now hanging loosely from his neck.

Ross immediately lets go of me, taking a step back like we're teenagers that have been walked in on by a parent or something. I blush at both the moment we just had and also how distinctly embarrassed he seemed by it, moving away from me quickly.

"Are you coming back in, or not?" Matty furrows his eyebrows.

"I think I'm going to head home, actually." I say, avoiding the glance Ross gives me.

"Already? It's only... shit, it's 1AM." He giggles again, turning around and reentering the bar before I can even reply.

I don't give Ross the opportunity to make this any more tense or awkward. Crossing my arms across my chest and turning around, I leave him standing in the smoking area, taking back control of the situation with the knowledge that he cannot stand it.

#1975 band #adam hann #fanfic #george daniel #matty healy #ross macdonald #the 1975 #matty the 1975

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sighingsiren-tales · 2 years

Text

The Art of Seduction

You know what the f--k going on here guys

4.4k

“Compliments of the gentleman over there”.

You turn around to look over at the man who had sent you the drink, sending him a slight smile before pushing the drink back to the waiter and telling him no thank you. A few moments later who you assumed was the waiter, placed your cocktail in front of you. You were about to thank him before you realized that it was the same man who had sent a drink over. He sat in front of you, dark hair away from his face as he balanced himself on his elbows on the small table.

“So you’re not a mango girl? Noted”.

You simply look him up and down, taking a small sip of the strawberry passion fruit combo you had ordered for yourself, the cocktail he sent you untouched.

“I’m allergic, actually” You deadpan, relishing in the look of absolute disbelief and terror on his face.

“I am so sorry. I had no idea that you were allergic!” He exclaims, seeming to be genuinely sorry.

“Well of course. How could you have known? We are strangers, after all” You quip, chuckling slightly before pulling your book out of your purse and opening it to your bookmarked page, hoping the riff raff would take itself out.

You barely read two lines before he, unfortunately, speaks again.

“The Art of Seduction, huh?” He spoke, parroting the title of your book as if he was a proud first grader, reading a sentence.

How brilliant.

You look up from the page for a quick second, giving a tight lipped smile before returning to your book.

“So, you're trying to seduce someone?” He asks, trying painstakingly hard to be sexy and failing, rather miserably.

“Nope, just trying to read” Your words are spoken as nonchalantly as possible.

“In a bar?” He questions indignantly.

“Yeah, that’s the meeting place we chose” A deeper, smoother voice answers.

You raise your head and have to stifle a gasp; You pray your face doesn’t betray your thoughts. Although it’s near impossible, you try your best to conceal your surprise at the ridiculously handsome, tall man standing by your side.

“I didn’t realize we were having company tonight. I’m Namjoon” He held his hand out for the other young man to take, which he did, begrudgingly.

“DoHyun, I was actually just leaving” He spoke slowly, obviously dejected as he left the booth you were in.

Namjoon watches him leave with a polite smile, sitting down smoothly before letting a scowl overtake his handsome features.

“I hate creeps like that. Your tone, your body language and your words were telling him to fuck off” He places a few books that he was carrying on the table.

“Some people can’t take no for an answer” You sigh, closing your book; You were not in the mood to read anymore.

“Thanks for the save though” Your thanks is welcomed with a curt nod.

“Robert Greene’s a genius isn’t he?” Namjoon compliments, peaking your interest as you finally make direct eye contact with him.

“Isn’t he?” You parrot.

“I love how he explains each seducer with a historical example and then dissects it. He makes it so easy to understand and yet so captivating” Being able to talk about your intense love for the book as well as the author was a passion of yours, a passion Namjoon seemed to understand.

He looks at you with a slight smirk, dark eyes fixated on your own as you speak.

“Is that right? Which one do you identify with most?” He asked, his tone oh so suggestive.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise to his question to which he laughs, the sound rich, beautiful and somehow sexy. It was…lovely to watch him smile.

“What? You're gonna dismiss me too, pretty girl?” His voice lowers an octave in such a way that you had no choice but to take notice.

You shrug, deciding to play coy, though your cheeks burned at his compliment.

“I don’t know, what do you have that the last guy didn’t?” You lean back, taking a sip of your cocktail as Namjoon pretends to think.

“Well” He paused to push his glasses up a bit.

“For one thing, common sense” You giggle at the statement, trying your best not to attract attention.

“And second thing” He grabs your hand from across the table, effectively bringing the focus back on him, pressing his lips gently against the back of it in a kiss.

He held onto your dainty hand as one holds a flower while he gazes into your eyes. His fingers are soft, much larger than yours but gentle with you.

“I am a grown man, not a little boy. Whatever he did was all lust and no actual thought”

You raise a brow.

“A grown man, huh?” You ask, a smile peeking out from the corners of your lips.

He nods before speaking, a hint of a dimple flashing.

“Grown men tend to be straightforward; Games are not really my thing”.

He took a sip of the drink you couldn’t have, seemingly enjoying it before placing it back beside you. His eyes connect with yours again.

“I am very straightforward”.

“And I will stop you when you get too direct” You joke, chuckling at his advances.

“Ah, good. That means I haven’t offended you… yet” He leans forward.

You giggle.

“Yet?”.

A pause.

“I must warn you” He whispers while looking into your eyes from across the table.

You lean in as well, unable to resist his charms.

“Tell me” You speak slowly, his gaze lowers to your lips.

“You’re going to have to stop me soon sweetheart” His voice is low.

“And if I do not?” You ask, watching his eyes darken the longer he stared.

“I may really start to get out of pocket” He ends his statement with a dark chuckle.

Deciding to stir the pot, you ask, “Oh? And what would that look like?”.

He was quick to acquiesce: “Give me permission to show you”.

You look him over, tongue swiping over your bottom lip before you could stop it.

“You speak like you know me, Namjoon” You particularly relish the way that he shivers when you say his name.

It takes him a second to respond.

“You’re in my human psychology and development class beautiful” No later than the words leave his mouth, you want to kick yourself for not recognizing him earlier.

He giggles at the realization that passes over your face.

“It’s finally coming to you” He laughs heartily.

“So, aside from saving me from creeps and flirting with me, why is it you’re now talking to me?” You tease.

“Why are you dodging my question?” His tone mimics yours.

You pause to think about it, giving him permission you mean…Could that truly be a good idea? Your hormones seem to think for you as you find yourself formulating your answer before you realize that you already know what you want. Your teeth gently sink into your lower lip before you can nod your answer, the answer he hoped for. You see a hint of a smile across his lips before he tsks.

“A nod won’t do. Say it for me little one” He spoke darkly, quite lowly.

“Namjoon” You breathe, relishing in the strong domineering aura that his presence gave off.

You feel safe.

His eyes darken yet again, playful aura gone and his whole demeanor changing the second you spoke his name.

“Isn’t it a bit too early for you to be saying my name like that?” He asks, fiddling with your fingers gently.

You shrug before downing some of the liquid courage. You inhale.

“I do nothing without reason so”, Another sip.

“I give you permission” You say before you lose your nerve.

You don’t understand what it was about him that drew you in so much but it was even more difficult for you to resist him. He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place the second you gave your consent before standing up from his side of the booth, brushing his hands on his jeans and walking over to slide in beside you.

You kind of wanted him to think about sliding into something else.

Before he sat down, you notice the way the black t-shirt he wore fit his broad shoulders perfectly, stretching across his chest as if it was made for him. The rings on his finger, his vibrant, healthy blond hair pushed back away from his face, showing off those beautiful, deep dimples and those plush lips which look so soft, full and inviting; He truly was the perfect, sculpted man. He let his left arm curl around the back of the booth before leaning back against the seat next to you.

“Nice being this close?” He asks in a soft, sultry voice.

You lean against him and inhale. He smelled so good, clean and fresh with a hint of spice underneath; It drove you wild in the best of ways. His fingers trailed lightly across the hem of your dress, caressing the soft skin of your mid thigh and dipping underneath the fabric of your skirt every so often.

“This okay?” He asks in your ear, lips pressed against your hair as you nod.

“Mhm” You sound, making the grave mistake of looking up at him and looking into those deep brown pools of desire.

His lips stretched into the ever so slight of smirks and he jerked his head towards your book.

“Why don’t you read to me?” He whispers, kissing your ear ever so softly.

You swallow before picking up the book, looking for the place where you last stopped.

‘’Magnetism. If any physical attribute is crucial in seduction, it is the eyes. They reveal excitement, tension, detachment, without a word being spoken”.

A pause before reading again.

Namjoon’s fingers slipping into the inside of your thighs, lighting a fire as he goes.

“Go on” He whispers, his voice breathy and sultry.

You prop the book up with one hand, letting another fall to his thigh and gripping the thickness there.

“Oh? That’s the energy you’re coming with?”.

You say nothing in response, instead deciding to continue reading.

“Indirect communication is critical in seduction, and also in charisma. The demeanor of Charismatics may be poised and calm, but their eyes are magnetic; they have a piercing gaze that disturbs their targets' emotions, exerting force without words or action” You struggle to keep your voice level as his fingers may their way to the inside of your panties.

His fingers circle your clit, using your wetness to massage the small bundle of nerves as you feel your breathing grow heavy.

“What’s the matter angel?” He asks softly, kissing the side of your head as you lean over on his shoulder.

You want to retaliate; The best you could come up with was grabbing his erection, stroking slowly over the material of his jeans.

“You haven’t finished reading to me” His voice remains level but he’s speeding up his tempo.

You stifle a moan as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Namjoon, come on” You whine, gripping onto his erection tighter and watching the pleasure in his eyes become glazed over with lust.

“Uh-uh, finish the paragraph” he commands.

He needs only do so once.

You groan, sitting up straighter before you decide to speak.

“F-fidel Castro's aggressive gaze can reduce his opponents to silence. When Benito Mussolini was challenged, he would roll his eyes, showing the whites in a way that frightened people. President Kusnasosro Sukarno of Indonesia had a gaze that seemed as if it could have read thoughts. Roosevelt could dilate his pupils at will, making his stare both hypnotizing andintimidating, Namjoon!” You squeal quietlyas he slips in a finger, curling it softly.

“You stopped stroking baby” He comments as he sinks his finger in deeper.

“I’ll finish when you get us out of here” You whisper, leaning against his chest as you relish the feeling of his finger.

Namjoon couldn’t deny that you were cute, the way that you were leaning against his chest and begging to get out of here was the definition of cute. But, the way that you drew him in, the strong confident aura that gave way to his domineering one when he gave a little pushback was oh so sexy.

“One more line baby” He leans down and gives your lips a quick kiss.

“Just one more and we’ll go” He promises.

You look at the page one last time for the night.

“The eyes of the Charismatic never show fear or nerves” The second you finish, he takes his finger from your heat.

Looking into your eyes, he leans down and puts his finger into his mouth, cleaning it thoroughly before leaning down and kissing you softly, his fingers on your chin.

“You bought anything?” He asks against your lips to which you nod.

He stood from the booth, quickly bringing you to stand in front of him and hide his erection before throwing a $50 on the table. He gives a nod to the waiter, then a nod to the guy you dismissed not too long ago.

You giggle at his tactics seeing as you could barely walk a few steps without him pulling you back into him, groaning every single time. You loved his reactions, relishing in the effect that you both had on each other; It was a carnal attraction and you loved it. Namjoon stopped you when you both got to his car. You looked up and down his model before raising your eyebrows, quite impressed.

She was a pretty jaguar, F-type, and the fact that he owned such a car made you briefly question what it is he does aside from being a student. He unlocks it before you can finish your train of thought, cocking his head to the side quickly and smiling.

“Ya boy works his ass off” He spoke before he got into the driver's seat.

Just as he puts the car into drive, you grab his erection with your right hand, stroking it slowly as he begins to pull out of the parking spot.

You nimbly unbutton his jeans, pushing them down as far as it could go so you could reach into his briefs. When you finally wrapped your hand around his erection, you looked over at him in surprise. Your eyebrows nearly shot up to your hairline. He gave you a sideways glance, a smirk accompanying said look as he turned his eyes back to the road.

He knew what you were thinking.

He’s thick. Way thicker than anything you’ve ever had before.

Your panties could’ve been mistaken for a river at the moment; You pull your hand back to spit in it, immediately wrapping it around him again and watching in amusement as he swore and bit his lip at the wheel. You stroke slowly, not wanting to rush this moment.

“Namjoon”.

“10 more minutes baby, just 10”.

“But~” You whined before letting your fingers trail up your own thighs.

He glanced over at you, presumably missing the warmth of your hand, keeping quiet until the moment that you slipped your hand into your panties. You felt the car speed up. You circled your clit just as he did, bucking into nothing as you whined his name. You were so caught in your pleasure and your own fingers that you didn’t notice it until the car turned off.

His seatbelt is unbuckled and no sooner than it’s off, his lips are on yours again. His jeans remain unbuttoned. Before your hand can reach the apex of his thighs, he grabs your fingers. Kissing them once, he leans in closer.

“I am not fucking you in the car” He declared, fixing himself.

“So, your bed then?”.

His smile at that moment could brighten the heavens. He gives you one last kiss before leaving the car.

You fix yourself up quickly, smoothing down your skirt just in time for Namjoon to open your door. Everything else seemed to be a blur of tension and nerves; The next thing you knew you were sitting on his kitchen counter, your skirt bunched up around your hips as his hands found purchase in your thighs. You moaned into his mouth, his plush lips seeming to caress you softly, seducing you even further as he slid your dark colored panties down your legs. Pushing your dress further up your hips, he broke your kiss to eye the apex of your thighs.

“So pretty” he mumbled, letting his fingers caress the soft skin there before he pulled you to the very edge of the counter.

Namjoon held eye contact, watching you right up until his tongue touched your clit. His tongue was so wet, hot and calculated; It was driving you absolutely crazy. Throwing caution to the wind, you grabbed his soft silky locks as you pull his tongue closer. The blonde heard you loud and clear, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and locking them around your lower stomach as he french kissed your nether lips again and again and again. You couldn’t keep still, squirming and bucking against the sensations of his wonderfully skilled tongue.

“Stay still woman” he scolded, before diving back in, this time with a moan that went straight to your head.

Tonguing at your entrance, you could clearly see Namjoon was skilled at this.

“Joon” You called for him, tightening your hold on his hair.

He growled into your pussy, his hands reaching up and grabbing at your chest. The long licks he gave were the last straw for your patience. You yanked up on his locks, to which he looked surprised but let you. You loosen your grip and pull him to you gently. Your noses brush once, then twice before a smile spread across his face. Smelling yourself on his breath, you couldn’t manage any longer: Your arms go around his neck and you’re kissing him as deep as you could manage. The groan that leaves his lips when you wrap your legs around him is sinister, the taste of you on his tongue only making it all the more arousing. You broke the kiss for a quick moment, kissing the side of his neck in the slowest and most torturous way that you knew how as your hands explore the lean muscle you found underneath his shirt. He lets out the prettiest moan and your hand goes to his neck, tilting it upwards so you have free space. Your tongue traces patterns into his skin and you feel his hand grip your waist.

“Enough”.

You stopped kissing him just in time to see the way that his eyes darkened; His shirt goes up and over his head. It falls in a crumpled heap on the floor. The next was his belt, which he undid in the most sexy and aggressive of ways. Your body reacts to his display of aggression, purring as you lean up against his chest. Lifting you by your thighs, he carries you over to where you assume his bedroom was. You nuzzle against him, kissing his chest and occasionally his nipples before he laid you back against the best.

“Needy baby?” he questioned, referring to your behavior.

“Stop talking and come find out” You retorted, leaning up on your elbows so that you could see him properly.

He towered above you in this position; Watching him unbutton his jeans quickly and pulling them down his legs was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

His dick was more impressive in his full glory. The thickness was what had you clenching your thighs together so you could keep quiet. He stroked it once, then twice before taking a step closer.

“Wet it for me” He commanded, his tone dominant.

In that dark, deep voice of his, you’d do anything that Namjoon wanted.

Leaning forward, you looked in his eyes as you did as he asked. He let out a low moan as you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking feverishly at his tip while the spit drips down the sides. Pulling off his dick with a pop, you were barely able to wipe your mouth before Namjoon wrapped a hand around your neck loosely, pulling you up to his lips so you could kiss them.

“Turn around”.

You bit your lip at the command, doing as he asked you to get on all fours. You arch your back deeply, relishing in the low whistle sound that he made as he watched. Namjoon slaps your ass harshly, eliciting a deep, carnal moan from you as you jutted your ass out more for his appreciation.

“You’re filthy baby, you know that? Spitting on my dick and arching your back for me” Namjoon’s dark voice reverberates through the room as he settles himself on the bed, right behind you.

“I’d almost think you do this often” He whispers in your ear as he rubs the head of his dick back and forth against your wetness.

He hisses.

“See how wet your pussy is for me?” His head slips past your barrier.

You stifled a moan, pushing your head into the pillows. His hand is around your throat, lifting you up.

“Stifle another moan and watch what I do to you” He threatened, his voice dark and serious.

“Namjoon” You whined his name as he made it half-way in.

He let a moan slip and you felt even more sexy, pushing back against him as you silently told him you could take more. When he was fully sheathed in your wet heat, he let out a shuddering moan that matched yours.

“I’m about to drown in this pussy baby and I want to hear you enjoy every moment of it”.

He barely gave you time to respond. The calculated strokes that hit your g-spot perfectly spoke for him though.

You moaned loudly, letting out calls of his name here and there as you pushed your ass back against him. His strokes were deep, the sound of your wetness mingling with the symphony of your moans and his. His loud, breathy, open mouth moans against your neck as he grabs onto your hip, shifting to one side so he could have more leverage.

“It’s so thick” You whine, gripping the chocolate silk sheets.

“I know baby, fuck, I know. I want you to see how easily I slide in and out of you” He moaned.

“I can f-feel it. Joon” You whimper.

“Yeah?” He asked breathily before abruptly pulling out of you.

You were about to voice your confusion before he flipped you onto your back, shocking you into silence with his display of strength, as he nestled himself between your legs. He didn’t even bother to go in easy, just slamming into you recklessly.

You could barely hold in your screams, your nails digging into Namjoon’s back as he let out moans of his own. He gave one particularly deep stroke, grinding against your clit simultaneously. You yelped, wrapping a leg around his waist to show how much you liked that.

“You like that, huh?” He asked.

“Yes, Namjoon, yes!” You screamed, bucking up your hips to meet his thrust.

“You’re gonna cum for me, right? I feel your pussy getting tighter” He breathes, grabbing your hips.

You could only make incoherent sounds with how often he was grinding against your clit, holding your hips in place so there was nowhere to run. He was losing himself and that was the sexiest part; Head thrown back, moans loud and reckless. You don’t think he cared who heard but then again neither did you.

“You got quiet on me baby” He paused, kissing your lips once before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

Yeah, because with how deep he was stroking you barely had enough room left in your lungs to breathe.

“Call for me baby” An affectionate nip to your neck.

“Go on” he urged.

“Call for daddy”.

You felt something snap within you.

Daddy, was it?

Bet.

Rolling the both of you over and repositioning yourself on top of Namjoon, you relish in the slight smile that threatens his lips.

“Want me on top daddy?”.

He nods, holding your waist steady as you slide down slowly. He watches you with unfiltered lust as you move your hips back and forth, up and down on his dick. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he felt his heart stop when the word “daddy” left your pretty lips in a moan. Smiling and leaning up a bit, he wraps his arms around your waist and dives into you powerfully from below.

That breaks your rhythm; Your hands fall on either side of his head as you hover over him but his hands press gently against the small of your back and pull you to him.

“Go ahead baby, scream” he urged.

And scream you did; Namjoon was quite the talented man, hitting your g-spot and your clit. You were spilling out onto his lap, wetting his pelvis but you couldn’t care less; You just needed to reach your high.

“Oh fuck daddy, harder I’m gonna cum”.

“Mm cum baby, daddy’s close”.

“Cum daddy please. Cum inside” you moaned filthily as you bounced on his cock.

Namjoon couldn’t even believe his luck; Was this really happening? He was in euphoria unknown as he watched you slide up and down his dick. The way that you bit your bottom lip when you came around him, your face contorting into pleasure as your hips stuttered captivated him in ways that he truly couldn’t begin to explain.

Gripping your hips tightly, he helped you ride out your high as he chased his own. The coil in his belly grew tighter and tighter; He could barely stop himself from thrusting into you as powerfully as he could.

“I’m gonna cum, it’s a lot baby so make sure you take it all”.

With one more he let out the loudest moan he had all night, burying himself deep within you as he emptied his seed while his hips stuttered. You collapsed on top of him, utterly exhausted but absolutely satisfied

Thank the divine for birth control. He wraps his arms around you tightly, resting his cheek against your shoulder as you both calm yourself from your, ahem, activities.

“Hey Joon?”.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice soft.

“Your dick is huge”.

He let out a hearty laugh, the sound wondrous and adorable as he nuzzled your neck, tightening his arms around your waist before kissing your cheek.

“Thanks doll”.

#bts #bts imagines #bts writing #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #namjoon scenarios #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut #bts smut #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop smut

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plasticfangtastic · 7 months

Text

Cozy Corner Kintober Day 8 (Day 2 for me)

Prompts: 12. Nursing/lactation, 4. Overstimulation, 11. Double penetration, Alt. prompt: Switch (dunno if bdsm switch or vers, so I went with vers)

No codiciarás los bienes ajenos

A Homelander x Ashley Barret x Butcher fanfic.

A/N: told myself this would be a short thing but no... hope y'all like it!

R18: Homelander ‘nuff said, threesome, smut, porn logic, R18, Bottom Homelander, Bottom Butcher, Pegging, dudcon, love triangle, everybody is Bi, slow burn, angst, not proofread sorry.

Word Count: 8K approx.

God had funny ways to speak directly to his favorites, it hadn’t registered at first and frankly he hadn’t care– but the larger she got the more and more difficult it became to ignore, building a slow burning anger spreading inside America’s favoritein return– it was a cheap knockoff of what he had endure with Madelyn but instead of bitter jealousy and rage, he was upset and mad that she would dare to act without his authorization..

Ashley was his property… She was not her own, she was not Vought’s, she was not of her family… she was Homelander’s– she should have asked him permission before spreading her legs like the town’s wench, he thought grinding on his teeth.

As her stomach engorged, the defiance of her actions brought him closer to a boiling point.

Ashley had simply opted to play stupid, acting as if her actions hadn’t threatened to cause a riff in their relationship, as if she wasn’t actively being hostile against him after all the good that he had done for her– how could she dare hurt him like this?

Homelander was the first to informed her, smelling the cocktail of hormonal changes taking place within, peeking under her skin to catch the despicable clumps of cells forming, she had been stunted, running towards her assistant to get her a test for something Homelander had already confirmed with more accuracy than any piss soaked stick… she had been a nervous mess for the remaining week, even more than what Homelander was accustomed to.

He had approached her after a meeting, cornering her with a stiff look on his features.

“You getting rid of it?” He would’ve made a demand but at the time, he didn't think the idiot would’ve jeopardized her career to play with dolls– the labs downstairs can do it discreetly and free– just so you know.”

She stared at him with her big round exhausted green eyes, and for a moment Homelander was left speechless for she held back a sob, just shaking her head lightly and thanking him for his concern.

Leaving him behind as her kitten heels clicked on the polished floors.

But with every passing week the thing continued to grow, and grow, and so did Ashley… their relationship hadn’t changed, he was still behaving the same around her but as she got closer and closer to the end of the race, he was forced to held back in public– he couldn't be seen as the bastard yelling at a pregnant woman, he had to watch his tone, never raising his voice if people were around, and Ashley knew just how dangerous this was becoming, worried that one day she wouldn’t make it to her apartment in one piece, feeling she would be in a freak accident that her own people would cover up.

Ashley had stared at her fourth pregnancy test in the comfort of her own bathroom…

Thinking heavily on Homelander’s words she stumbled into her bedroom, her mother’s picture taken at 16th birthday watching over her– her mother would get diagnosed a few weeks after that party. But there she was smiling, her hair a light brown and her eyes just like hers, still so happy and loving as she held her daughter.

Why was she alive?

She was a ghoul clinging to her unlife, as she stroked her stomach thinking of what was germinating within, Ashley thought of her life… What was she living for? Work? What else…? Everyday felt like her last when Homelander was around, everyday was just another day she was allowed to continue existing, always caught in his grasps, surrounded by wicked souls that had taken almost all of her humanity, she had to become like them in order to survive… but why was she surviving, for? She had no boyfriend or girlfriend, she could barely maintain friends, her father had remarried some bitch twenty years younger than himself and now had kids he liked more, she had no siblings, and her cousins lived on the other side of the country, she dedicated her life to the grind, her best days behind it seemed– she was climbing the ladder just like her mother had always hoped for, for she thought of her as brilliant… Now she mingled with people of importance as a member of their flock… but above all she was in Homelander’s very small social circle, which was amazing!

But why did she live for? To be afraid of Homelander? That’s all? She thought.

Looking around at the house, at the empty rooms, and the lack of life– it was just an expensive oversized shoebox holding nothing, nothing to come back home to… she could sleep on a park bench and it wouldn’t be that different from her current state of being– maybe I could live for this? She mumbled wondering if it could hear her.

The money and her career were good but now she had something that she could dedicate her life for… something other than Homelander.

It was stupid and selfish to bring a child into this poisonous paradise, but she could be her anchor, to keep her from steering into the iceberg, to keep her holding on to life.

She only had a single name in her head, only one man responsible for this conundrum.

William Butcher had tracked her, appeased to her decaying humanity for assitance with the Homelander dilema, she wanted to run away from him but the bastard was just as bad as Homelander when it came to taking no for an answer, in this brief exchanged Ashley was finally able to speak her mind, years of torture flooded out of her chest and this man the devil’s priest sitting in its mold infested confessionary box listening to her, absolving her in the process– she was so afraid of him, so scared of Homelander’s heart, and for the first time there was somebody she could speak to, who understood her pain and had been doing things against him, in a sense this was the closest she would get to personal retribution against her demon.

Somehow during those brief moments (possibly do to the whiskey) both had woke up with their entire bodies sore, William turned on her sheets glad to have a soft mattress under his back, feeling the sharp pain of raw flesh where she had bitten and clawed, letting a soft chuckle thinking about how hard and frantic she had fucked the brit, she was so demanding William couldn’t believe she wouldn’t dare give the caped cunt some lippy, after spouting all her exigencies to Billy eagerly without care.

They didn’t see each other much after that, the Brit had found the hard way that Ashley for all her hatred and fear… was loyal to Homelander, terrified of ever leaving his side, of knowing what lay on the other side of the river.

William had to give it to Homelander, he had completely brainwashed her into pure misplaced devotion.

So as she let the city fall asleep around her, she dared not contact Butcher.

The more it felt real, the more she gave herself something to wake up tomorrow for, even if now she had to deal with Homelander, but it would be alright… it would be alright, she kept praying that it would work out.

“You taking maternity leave?” Homelander had entered her office slouching on her couch while pretending to read some marketing reports for an upcoming hair product line with his name on it–I need to know how long– have to find your replacement.” he said with sharp snark.

“Only one month. I already have been interviewing nannies.” She said meekly, fidgeting with her pen as she stopped work to give him undivided attention– "can't afford too many setbacks– especially those I caused.”

“Why?” He looked so confused.

“You’re also my priority.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound so personal, but she was so exhausted, pregnancy insomnia had devoured her brain and these piles of paperwork didn’t shrink any further– I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her sheepish smile didn’t even register on her own brain, Homelander fixed his posture, pursing his lips back and forth between a wobbly smile and anxiety, as he looked at Ashley and her glowing skin.

As he stood in the Seven’s boardroom looking down at his kingdom, Homelander thought of Ashley’s words, like a knife in his back… how could she? How could she dare toy with him?

As he looked at the bipedal ants beneath… Homelander could only wonder who was the ill-born shithead that had dipped; Ashley didn’t smell of anybody other than herself and her perfume– all hypoallergenic goat soap and sea-salt shampoo mixed with adrenaline and hopelessness, he had heard the tinder notifications go off from time to time tho… was it perhaps a one night stand? Of course ‘His Ashley’ would be so irresponsible– he recoiled at his own thoughts… His… was she his? Of course she fucking was! She was his property! The louder voice in his head reminded him of what he was and what she ultimately was… a lackey, his servant, no different from a dog… He had been a good owner so why did she stabbed him? He mused on the thought.

The whole month her replacement had been tempted to quit five times, cried fourteen times, writen a 2-week notice three time, almost attempted suicide once and considered twice.

Homelander had let out months of frustration on the poor man, he was no Ashley… so fucking weak and pathetic, never dressed properly and stinking of axe and hugo boss, no amount of telling him that the smell was irritating got thru his thick skull, never speaking the way Homelander could bare to listen to, never fast enough or efficient enough in his eyes… he quit the same day Ashley showed up back in the office, baby in hand… and that’s when the nightmare truly began… payback for his mistreatment of her substitute.

God must’ve been laughing.

God must’ve been inviting the devil to the watch party.

Homelander hadn’t had a second to admire the bodily changes before, so angry to notice… It wasn't like Madelyn whose every inch and line he had registered… every inch made to hurt him as she abandoned him for somebody he could never hope to replace.

Ashley wasn’t ugly, just a step above average, but plain compared to every other woman in his life, and her eyes were just so big and weird to him.

But as he caught her breastfeeding in her office… he noticed just how much her breast had grown… maybe 2 ½ sizes bigger, they were so swollen, so heavy and that tiny little girl didn’t want anything to do with them. She much rather the bottle much to the first-time mother’s frustration, who assumed she would just latch immediately, it was the most natural thing for a newborn after all, but there she was getting frustrated– she really couldn’t do one thing right, she cried.

Homelander just closed the door behind himself trying to look away, Ashley jumped slightly covering her baby and herself with a cloth.

He licked his lips, swallowing sand, as he tried to distract himself from the smell of fresh milk waltzing towards his nose… he looked at his boots, trying not to beg for the forbidden.

“Try tickling her mouth with your finger… give her a breather then try again… don’t force it” Homelander said gently, putting the flowers down the table, his ears a dark shade of pink– I’ll come later…”

“Oh” She looked at the arrangement shocked that he had brought her a present to congratulate her on her delivery, albeit a bit late but...god this was somethign remarkable– is okay… just give me 1 minute to get the bottle.”

“Is not good to give up so easily, Ashley.” His voice had an odd firmness to it.

The impromptu meeting went smoothly Homelander doing everything in his power to look away, to hide his face as the smell of milk and the sounds of that baby drinking mocking him– god it smelled so fucking delicious, his mouth filling with spit in between words.

This was punishment.

If watching it wasn’t an adrenaline rush… his ears were plagued by the sounds of her breast pumps, of the sloshing of her milk as she shook the plastic bottles before packing them, every other time she was in the building, coop in her office.

Homelander would find himself planted firmly on the spot as he caught the sound of the machine sucking… of her little whines and moans of relief as the pressure on her tits loosen.

God must’ve been pissing himself laughing when he watched him grow unbearably hard to the sounds of Ashley tasting a little drop of milk off her wrist that had spilled… her tongue’s quick flick provoking him.

Ashley was his property… she had no right to tease him like this.

That night Homelander waited ‘til Ashley left the building before heading in the dead of night to wander into her office, and here he could almost hear the angels giggling as he looked into her fridge and found himself in a very familiar scene.

He tucked his arms behind his back hiding the bottle with his cape, as he hurried upwards– in the solace of his penthouse, undressed one hand pumping his cock, caressing the lenght of his shalf as his pre-cum slicked the tip of his cock, he moaned with every short sip, letting it pool in his mouth and mingle with his spit– Ashley cradling him in her arms and her breast in his mouth, fantasizing of his hollowed cheeks sucking on those swollen breast, who gave a shit if it was Ashley of all people!? Not him… not when she tasted so freaking sweet. Not when she was all he could smell, all he wanted to smell, all he wanted to cover himself with, just to fill his stomach with… he laid in bed with his twitching cock, cum all over his abdomen and a light head.

He had come so hard his eyes had grown unbearably heavy, he dared not wash the taste of milk off his lips, he looked at the chewed up nipple and the light puddle of milk at the base of the bottle before just passing off with a full stomach.

He would have hated Melody had he actually given two shits about her, but with her arrival he at least had an excuse to satisfy a craving, glad that the baby would latch but still prefer plastic… not knowing how lucky she was.

On the occasion Ashley brought the child, he gave her deadstares which the child seemed to find amusing, squealing in approval.

Melody Barrett didn’t bother him until now.

Curiosity got the best of him, and maybe Ashley hadn’t been as clever as he had given her credit because there she was arguing with him… with HIM!!! in her apartment, this traitor, this wench, this bitch had never been loyal! He wanted to burn her down, and shower himself on her ashes.

All it had taken was her coming to work one day with something more than unusual clinging to her dress… cigarette smoke, he had smelled this flavor before, he had smelled it on Maeve, but above all he had smelled it on William Butcher.

Cheap cigarettes.

So he flew to her apartment just past 10 pm, in all their years Homelander had never once actually seen the 2 bedroom loft, it was big with high ceiling most likely an upgrade from her previous residency, not that it mattered… the building could come down and he wouldn’t care about all the broken kitsch or its residents… What mattered was that his property was interacting with his mortal enemy… and killing them both right now the only thing in his mind.

William had calmed down, demanding to know if the parasite was his or not which Ashley was so hesitant to answer, squirming in her skin trying to deliver the news without the other man snapping, as she spoke Butcher dropped to the nearest chair, pressing his hands into his face trying to wash away his disbelief, he let a light chuckle out murmuring to himself before ignoring her completely as he headed to the baby’s bedroom– all pink and girly, within laid a sleeping baby, her hair just a light shade of brown and her eyes now that Homelander thought about were… hazel green. He signed and gave up on the spot slouching on the bar not daring to touch her.

How sweet, Homelander thought.

Butcher emerged telling the woman that he wouldn’t be around for the kid if Ashley continued to be bound to Homelander, he didn’t want a new wife or a sex friend but he was fine with being there if she returned to the living.

Ashley just stood there twisting a strand of hair, nervous, her skin covered with goosebumps at the thought of running away– Melody was that bridge to freedom, but in all the time she’d known of Butcher he hadn’t succeeded at harming Homelander… who was he fooling? He was a failure just as much as she was! But he still believed he could win… he still refused to give up… that’s all she needed to believe.

“I… I wish I could.”

Homelander saw red.

How dare she think she could leave?

No… she couldn’t… no… not to him… don’t run to him… he thought, as Butcher's whole demeanor changed, the woman he could barely stand now looked so frail, he dared comfort her, trying to poison her mind with hopes.

When had Homelander enter the home? When did he break the handle off the balcony door that he still had scrunched in his hand? All he knew was that Ashley was cowering behind her arm chair and Butcher was standing in the way.

“why…?” Homelander’s lips shivered– why…w-hy wou-would y-you leave?”

He pushed Butcher out the way, flinging the man right into the other end of the living room, dragging his feet towards Ashley, she dropped backwards crawling away from him as his hand reached after her.

He lifted her effortlessly feeling how thin her neck was around his gloved hand.

“Why would you leave, Ashley?”

Ashley sobbed lightly, not putting any resistance just clinging to his wrist without any force.

“I will never let you go.” he let go of her neck, his arm took her shoulder pushing her right against his chest, the faint glow of his eyes looking at her face– you’re mine… there’s no world out there for you if you leave me.”

Her heart was so obnoxiously loud, but he liked the sound.

His nose touched her own, their lips so close she could almost feel his smile kissing her.

“Is that clear?”

She nodded, holding back with every ounce of will she had left her tears, he cradled her in his arms, cooing and stroking her back, forcing her into a tender embrace, watching Butcher as he emerged bloodied.

“Was he a good fuck? Did you have fun?”

She could’ve tried escaping his grip but the thought of putting any resistance terrified her, the thought of dying and not knowing what would happened to Melody was enough to keep her still– yet the man wanted an answer as her shoulder began to ache, as she winced and cringed from the agony.

He let her go, throwing her into the ground just to meet Billy head on.

“Was Maeve not enough? Did taking her from me wasn’t enough for you, William?”

“Seems to me she was never yours, cunt.” he spat into the carpet– can’t blame you for being attached… She could bend a pipe with that pussy.”

He couldn’t say that of the mess trying to collect itself behind the boy scout.

“You want a list? Do you want a list of all the women I’ve fucked just so you can rub it on my face, you cretin!”

“Man I really missed out on fucking Madelyn, I bet you would’ve thrown a bigger tamtrum.” Butcher tried to get a step towards the door, but Homelander took him by the arm– keep the bitch I don’t want your sloppy seconds.” He growled.

Homelander was silent, ignoring Butcher’s complaints as he tried to free his arm, Ashley barely regaining her composure as she watched Homelander lost in thought.

Punishing Ashley would be easy, she was easy to scare back in line but Butcher… this was the second time… if he let him go there would be a third time and then he would be nothing but a fool for the rest of his life.

Butcher who had promised him so much, who devoted his life to him, who molded his whole being to him… Homelander scoff at the perversion… much like Ashley… William was his… he was HIS enemy… the closest thing to an equal… his equal if he crossed the line and took the V.

Butcher struggled putting his whole weight trying to free himself, knowing his bones would break if he pulled any harder– Homelander turned his head around just to dare look him straight in the eyes..

Butcher was a dog… all dogs needed an owner… just like Ashley was his dog… He had the space for another dog, the voice susurrated.

Homelander tugged at the arm bringing them so close, now it was Butcher in a strange embrace.

“You’re a stray mutt that needs to be fixed… you got my cute widdle Ashley pregnant… leaving me a half-mutt to take care of… so William what should I do with you? Should I take you to the shelter or take care of you myself?”

Butcher growled, punching him and bruising his hand instead.

“Don’t you dare touch the kid, you sick fuck!”

“I won’t touch the kid. I’m not an animal– you two on the other hand…”

Homelander took the man’s chin pushing his thumb in between his teeth, chuckling as he tried to bite the gloved finger teasing a broken tooth in return.

“If you wont leave my Ashley alone… I guess I have to take care of you too… I know you… I know your weaknesses… you won’t leave that kid alone, you’re not heartless… you are soft.” He said with genuine mockery and malice in his tone.

Homelander stroke Billy’s temple, gentle fingers trace his face returning to those lips, so soft looking, he could see the charms that tried to steal his Ashley away, that seduced Maeve into the dark side and that kept Becca so devoted, behind the gruff and scars the man was cute, handsome even– but ultimately soft looking, those eyes so dear and pretty.

“I’ll take care of you both.” He smiled leaning closer until his lip brushed Butcher’s lips– you’re mine too.”

Butcher tried resisting but Homelander was too much, no pulling on his suit could get him to move as he intensified their kiss, his tongue forcing his open, his lips bruising his, leaving them tender and sore, Homelander moaned and shuddered as he felt the resistance, tasting him to the core, rejoicing as the man slowly lost his footing and will– Butcher tried to pull him by the hair but all he gained from the man was a loud moan, the more he ran out of breathe the more he realized Homelander reaction were abnormal. He let him lead rubbing his nail behind the blond’s ear catching the moment Homelander shivered and let out a whispy moan, how much he liked it when Butcher pulled at his hair and tickled his bare skin... whatever was happening here– Butcher had a plan on how to make it out alive, make it out unharmed, to make sure that Ashley and the baby could get out in one piece, he would find a way to get Mallory to help them but first… first he had to sink low.

He had to play along and sign him praises, he would be a martyr if he had to for the child he should’ve never had– why did he do this to himself? He should have drank those questions instead of confronting the chihuahua, why did he need to know? Now he was here about to degrade himself, as punishment for his curiosity.

Homelander was shocked awake from this maladaptive dreams by Butcher wild kisses, he moaned, panting into the supe’s steel silky lips, one hand had left the scalp and found himself digging into the supe’s tights already a couple fingers touching bare back.

Homelander whined separating them finally, his toes squirming as he felt Butcher’s calloused fingers try to reach his ass.

“Ticklish aren’t we?”

Homelander dare not humor him, but as the man managed to find treasure Homelander gasped… his fingers were so rough, it was like sandpaper, no wonder Ashley fell for his trap, his hand was so masculine and rough… it was domineering… he squeezed him– Butcher wouldn’t admit it outloud but Homelander had a perfect ass, it was so big and squeezy, so heavy yet malleable… why hide all these cheesecake behind the cape, idiot? He thought.

“You want to own me don’tcha?” He growled into Homelander’s lips– "you want to be my owner then play with me, young master.”

Homelander nose flare-up, feeling small in the arms of the taller englishman.

“I got a lot of pent-up energy,” he purred.

“I guess… I guess… I guess we can p-play” He mumbled.

“Please not in the living room…” Ashley muttered, now collected and looking annoyed as she picked a large piece of a broken trinket, and admired the broken door swinging lightly– William… Homelander, sir.”

“Of course… my bad” Homelander freed himself from Butcher, dragging him by the hand as he complained, picking Ashley and heading towards her bedroom on the way – let’s have fun!”

The personality switch obnoxious.

Okay he had not anticipated this, Butcher thought, blaming a possible concussion for his lapse of judgment and poor planning.

The moment that door closed behind Homelander, he jumped Butcher once more, throwing him in the plush bed, surprised to see just how soft and bouncy it was, Homelander examined the older man beneath him, and the scowl in his face.

“Ashley you pick”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at them both perplexed, biting on her thumb as she caressed her wrist.

“Pick who fucks who, silly.” His smile creeps her out– you want to see him pinning me down and fucking me like the wild dog he is, or you want to see him bouncing on my cock like a good bitch?”

It must’ve been a trick question, but something in her brain must’ve been broken by Homelander ages ago, so she fixed her composure and gave it a real thought. Either picture was good… in her bed were two beautiful older men, two men who clearly hated each other whoul whould be sinking into a violent and heavy dirty hate fuck session… looking at Butcher she had an inkling that the man would rejoice at the thought of making Homelander into a sow and she herself would like to see that man begging for mercy and his enemy’s cock, but on the other hand… did she want to risk pissing Homelander off if she didn’t let him top first? The way he worded things made it seem there wasn’t any real choice… and Butcher had the look that he would turn to putty if that happened… After all, the man had been more than willing to make her happy during their exchange.

“Give her a minute you can almost hear the porno playing in her head” Homelander whispered with a shit eating grin.

Butcher rolled his eyes.

“You top first, sir.”

He smiled in approval, it was a trick question after all.

“Prep him… like you did the last time.” He dismounted resting on the bed by his side– don’t look at me like that William– is her making the decisions… don't worry it’ll be your turn next!” he winked– bring the toys I wanna see them!” he said playfully.

Ashley was almost robotic as she took to the night stand and took her toys and lube out, Homelander counted with both hands at the amount of stuff she kept, running out of fingers by the time she was done.

Butcher had nothing to say as Homelander picked the silicon anal beads, watching him with mild disgust as the man licked one of the beads.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Ashley?”

“What?” she said weakly.

“The ones in the closet… Jesus did you go during a closing down sale?” he looked at the toys on the bed, all the vibrators and dildos.

“I think this enough, mate.”

“Ashley get the ones in the closet.” His voice is sweet but firm.

The woman obeyed heading to grab the box in the walk-in closet, she took it to the bed blushing hard as Homelander waited to see the contents.

A double sided dildo and a themed strap-on.

“You are freaky” Butcher chuckled unable to look at the spread and believed it belonged to her… no wonder she was eager to eat his ass that time– so if you’re fucking me… what is she doing?”

“Me or you…”

He hopped out the bed smoothly and began to undress, letting the suit thud by his foot.

Something about it registered poorly for Butcher, it was abnormal to see, but he gave it little thought as she caught the sounds Ashley was making on the other side of the bed.

Ashley's mouth watered slightly as she took the double sided dildo in her hand then looked at Homelander as he turned around to take his thighs off, then back at the Brit mouthing an apology that he didn’t want.

She should’ve picked the secret third option which was herself.

Ashley took her silk nightgown off with ease, and that confident arrogant prick jaw shook as he saw those swollen breasts, as he looked at her curves and the little drop of milk falling off her nipple.

His gaze fixated as she moved to the bed pushing some of her toys aside to take the lube bottle, Butcher took to removing his shirt, kicking his shoes off towards the Supe, Homelander dare not budge from his spot content to just watch for the time being.

Billy pulled on Ashley letting her naked frame fall on him, and as if Butcher pressed the wrong button the woman was quick to let her plastic dick take over her brain… Butcher was a manly man, much better than her usual cheap cock, he was rough, his muscles firm even if his stomach was getting soft by age, his chest so hairy-- a thrill to squeeze and pull. His sight focused on the other man in the room, watching Homelander irritation and then sudden amusement as Ashley started to pull down on Butcher’s pants.

She wanted to fuck this man and make him call her ‘daddy’-- mostly ‘cuz Homelander would probably like that, and not for devious reasons, she negotiated with herself there.

Homelander let himself sit on the edge of the bed watching with detachment as William 's arms were pinned over his head as Ashley grinded herself gleefully, biting on his lips, and Butcher’s plan was simple make the bastard happy and find a moment to get the baby and run, Ashley would survive, she was always resourceful otherwise how else had she made it this far under his thumb, and he would get her help, Homelander wouldn’t care for the baby, afterall.

“You've done this before, haven’t you?”

She turned to him a thread of spit still connecting her with Butcher, she nodded lightly following Homelander as he moved behind her.

“Get him nice and wet for me while I take care of you.”

Ashley mewled as his hand pulled her hips upwards and towards himself, Butcher hated himself as his cock throbbed at the sight, her face was elated she was starting to let go, getting drunk on their kiss and the manly musk of William– Butcher shimmied upwards as Homelander pulled them away, knowing the man was secretly envious from the look on his face.

She was still plump from the baby, her body had more meat to hang on and squeeze, he gave her cunt a light slap, watching her shudder and jump from luscious pain, Homelander chuckled pulling her silk panties aside, spitting on his fingers before teasing her cunt, Ashley had never expected his fingers to be so freaking smooth yet so fucking warm, as he slid a finger into her folds, it was as if he had boiled his hand before touching her, it was so hot it made her writhle in pleasure, her juices coating his fingers instastenously, as he increased the speed of his strokes.

Butcher took his pants off finally regaining her attention, he adjusted himself in the bed as he threw the pants to the side and spread his legs unsure if this was the right position or not.

And just as Homelander teased the entrance, Ashley hopped forward looking back at Homelander for permission which he quietly gave as he teased her further.

“Lay on your back some more” She said to Butcher.

He followed instruction glad that she owned a king size bed, laying down with just a couple pillows and his arm for support, the other giving his cock a few tugs just to start building friction, His cock blocking half her face, her hands reached out after him caressing his thighs as Homelander fingers entered her, spreading her inside, rejoicing at the sound of her pussy drenching his fingers, sloshing sweet juices around– she was reacting better than he expected… that he had ever wanted… just for him… it made him happy that Ashley continued to be so good for him, pulling at his fingers as he drew them back, moaning under her breath with pure neediness, he looked up watching the back of her head bob up and down as she took Butcher thick rod into her mouth, it was salty, the smell drowning her, she let go letting Butcher jerk himself as her hands forced his hips upwards, forcing himself to take one of his legs, pulling his knees closer to his chest as her mouth kissed his cunt.

She slobbered all over, licking every inch of his mancunt as if it was a delicacy, the taste was strong but addictive, licking and teasing the entrance and his folds with her tongue all while Homelander did the same to her, his fingers going faster and faster, her pussy weak to his relentless abuse as he pumped another finger into her opening, his other hand caressing her ass after “mellow” tap after tap, her whole body electrocuted with each slap, feeling a hand-print burnt on her skin.

Homelander couldn’t believe just how good this was, hearing Butcher grunts and hisses as Ashley reduced him into a slave to his sexual desires, bucking his hips lightly to get her to reach further, she lifted herself spit down her chin reaching after the bottle of lube and a bullet from the spread.

Taking the tip of the bottle towards his entrance, she smiled as she squeezed the cool gel around his ass, Homelander begrudgingly let go of her to let her work.

Fingers and toys digging into Butcher, the Brit trying to contain his enjoyment but his body was betraying him, he hated having to admit that Ashley was making him feel good, his cock leaking heavily into his happy trail, as he chocked as the toy teased the tip of his cock.

“That’s enough.”

Butcher almost brays as she lets go, wanting to feel her massage his prostate even further.

It was Homelander’s turn, picking her up just enough to put her on the man’s chest, she looked back after being put down shocked about how easy it was for him to lift her, Butcher had a hard time breathing for a second until she perched above him, before Butcher could say something Homelander pulled him slapping his hips against Butcher’s lifting him long enough to place a cushion under hips, placing Butcher’s face mere inches from Ashley's pussy.

Butcher had no time to protest before he felt the heat.

His whole being writhe, pulsating as the man let a sharp wet hiss… Homelander filled him, resting his forehead against Ashley’s back as he felt the soft insides. Butcher was divine so warm and soft, so forbidden, so perfect.

Here he was fucking him as he gasped and croon into Ashley, his body assaulted from both ends, glad he couldn’t see the man fucking him so roughly and deeply, glad he couldn’t see the man making him feel so good.

It must be some divine joke that this bastard would have no issue turning him into a woman, if he had wanted him from the get go.

He sped up, knowing his cock had gotten thicker, he was about to finish.

Ashley was screaming behind her hands, not wanting to wake up her kid, but Butcher was eating her better than any of those Spaniards ever did.

“Turn around Ashley!” Homelander growled, his voice hiding the desperation in his heart.

She didn’t hesitate, and before she could say a word there he was– her personal demon kissing her fiercely, pumping his hips and handling Butcher like a pocket pussy, lifting his legs into his shoulder to hit his prostate spot on with every rough trust, as he kissed her he melted into her. Fuck he loved kissing, his whole body twitching as her tongue made a home in his lips, somehow she had gained the confidence to pull at him, to demand him to kiss her harshly moaning as Butcher had his fill with her pussy, sucking her lips, and pulling on the folds, as Homelander squeezed at her breast and twisted her nipples just hard enought to make her squeal and squeeze at Butcher’s tongue.

Dangling by Homelander’s shoulders as he kissed her, drowning in his taste, leaving Butcher further and further behind, pulsing lips taking a breather, sore and raw, but William doesn’t want to stop… so his hand chases after her, fucking her selfishy.

Homelander had slowed down giving his lover slow and deep trust, making sure to fill him to the brim as the two sudden lovers turned selfish too, above him.

She looked down seeing the bouncing twitching cock leaking all over his stomach.

“I have an idea…” she whispers, leaning into the blond’s ear away from Butcher.

He lowers the leg, manhandling Butcher with a glint in his eyes as he helps Ashley, taking the older man into the edge of the bed, he grins making sure to never let Butcher free, her sopping pussy kisses the tip of Butcher’s cock, the man whines biting his lip squeezing at the sheets as she drops and takes him effortlessly, sheathing him with her wet warmth that he had worked so hard to give her, she’s gasping into Homelander’s ear as the man pulls her by the neck.

Biting into the flesh sucking at her pale skin, leaving a trail of hickeys to mark her with, letting Butcher know this was also his.

Butcher saw white as both ends of him were tormented with pleasure, sweating profusely and ready to cum.

He let out a loud grunt as his body lost the battle.

Crying as his cock was squeezed and Homelander's thick cock kept pumping, Homelander wrapped his arms around Ashley as he cummed feeling Butcher tightening around him so suddenly, breathless as he rolled his hips deeper wanting to mark Butcher the same way he had marked his loyal plaything.

Curving her hips as she rode her orgasm, a dazed smile crossed her lips as Homelander kissed her so lovingly, as his hands eager to explore her curves, giggling as Butcher lifted himself to kiss her body the moment Homelander pulled out.

Feeling the warmth enveloping from inside and out.

“My turn…” He mumbles into her chest and Homelander catches it, unable to control his amusement– get in the bed you cunt.”

Homelander jumped into the bed, his knees a little weak at first.

Ashley almost falling into the ground as Butcher gets her off of him, he was eager to fuck Homelander, staring with her mouth dropped as Butcher took one look at the younger man and took a dildo from the spread, giving it a few licks.

He took the head of the pink toy towards the Supe’s mouth.

“Make it nice and wet for daddy because that’s all you’re gonna get from me.” His voice so low and guttural.

Homelander doesn’t hesitate taking the toy into his mouth, spooking the older man by his eagerness.

Watching him as he hollows his cheeks, watching him attentively as his tongue brushes his fingers, licking every nook with such technique Butcher almost threw the toy aside and shoved his cock into those thin lips, his free hand pulling at Homelander’s nipple, delighted to hear the man moan loudly as he pulled at the sensitive nub.

Homelander took the toy out with a wet pop, his hand already looking for the real thing.

“I rather have this” he stroked him– let me see what made my Ashley betray me.”

“Oh you’ll see.” That was more threat than flirt she noted.

Butcher wanted to record this for prosterity, the sight of his blue eyes rolling back into his skull as he fucked his mouth thoroughly, pre cum and spit bubbling in the corners of his lips, old cum spilling from his nose, and lose pubes stuck to his face, but Butcher didn’t allow him to stop sucking him, always reaching the throat, glad to feel it tightened around him, glad to see his hands wanting freedom but those glazed eyes were too good to watch.

Wanting to always have this image of Homelander playing with his nipples, pulling on them until they were pink and puffy, and crying as Ashley gave him a lazy blow-job, glad to see the twitching cock begging for more friction and kisses.

The sight of the most loved man in America, covered in cum, all flushed and needy, his hair just a complete mess– that made this whole ordeal worth it for Butcher and Ashley.

Homelander was pinned to the bed, his body shuddering, he whimpered as the two bastards teamed up against him, it had been an experiment, dragging his nails on his back as he fucked him with the vibrating toy, Homelander flounder, biting on the sheets as Butcher teased his sensitive skin.

He had been foolish to undress, to expose himself, Butcher had thought it was a powerplay, to make himself appear harmless and approachable, to make Butcher comfortable with the idea of fucking him… and it probably was but now Homelander wished he would stop, that they both would stop, the moment she touched his sides he was begging her to stop, but Butcher wouldn’t let her, licking his chest, and sucking on his nipple rolling her tongue on the swollen nub.

His skin prickly and hot and the light in his eyes blinking back and forth as Butcher pressed another toy into his entrance as his chapped hand massaged his member, he clung to Ashley as she came up to kiss him, as Butcher teased him more and more, as he grazed his skin with those jagged nails.

“Just fuck me please!!” He begged.

His skin had betrayed him, punishing him for taking the suit off, for being so bold.

Butcher grinned licking his lips, watching the tears building in the corners of his eyes, the unbelievable sight of Homelander fucking himself on those toys but wanting more, Ashley looked back at Butcher feeling sorry for the blond, and eager to see this play out.

“I guess I am soft.”

He took the toys out, watching it gape and beg for him, Butcher gave himself a couple strokes.

And the man almost cried when he finally felt Butcher inside him.

Butcher was rough. squeezing at him, slapping his ass, pushing him down and lifting him.

If he slowed down Homelander would roll his hips back at him, biting down on his arm, staining the sheets with his blood as Butcher marked him.

The sound filled the room as Butcher pounded him.

The two had been so consumed with each other that Butcher had ignored the other person in the room, surprised when Ashley came behind him, teasing the wet entrance with her perfectly manicured fingers.

“Let me help you out, baby.”

Butcher felt the tip of something big pressing against him.

A nervous smile crossed his lips, and all he could do was adjust the position.

Guess he couldn’t complain about being too spoiled.

Homelander grinding himself in the front, kissing Butcher, his hand pulling on the older man drowning on his tongue, it didn’t matter if it was Butcher or anyone else, he wanted to feel loved no matter how twisted it was, no matter if Ashley helped the gentleman keep up.

Butcher gave up.

Relenting to the pair.

Never did he imagine he would be so drunk on Homelander, unable to stop himself from biting and licking at the man’s neck, letting him crook his neck in every angle he could to get a taste of the older man, he tasted so clean– only now had he began to sweat, even the rare salt tasted sweet, looking at his enemy reduced to nothing but a man controlled by nothing but hunger, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his eyes glowing back and forth but so loving and sweet, this was somebody else’s wearing an enemy’s face, now there was some meek man looking at him with pure adoration.

This must've been a taste of heaven, Homelander thought.

Feeling Ashley, tug and pull at Butcher's hair, squeezing his sides and biting whenever, she was mad with power as she fucked him harder than her hips would prefer, but she wouldnt slow down no matter how much pain it caused, not when she was so close to the edge, when her pussy was squeezing so hard.

Billy cursed falling into the crook of John's neck.

“Please cum inside me” Homelander cried into Butcher’s ear.

Butcher let the pleasure take the lead, let Ashley fuck him into her orgasm and let Homelander wrung him dry.

William melted into the blond’s arms, melted into their kiss as his cock charged into him– filling him with his thick hot seed, Homelander could feel his cum travel inside, coating him, feeling his feeble attempts to breed him, glad it was Butcher doing this so boldly.

Ashley cursed behind his back, dropping behind him satiated and exhausted, enjoying the heat coming from Butcher’s, listening to his heartbeat, swayed by his breathing.

The woman took it out, falling to his side looking genuinely happy with her life.

Shifting closer wanting to stay warm, Homelander stretched his arm offering her space, as Butcher took to one side.

She took her place by his side, the man was a hot water bottle in winter, perfect for any cold night, at this moment with his messy hair and his tired eyes this wasn’t her terrifying boss… this was just a hot guy she worked for.

“Give me a minute before it’s your turn,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m too old for this, you two have fun.” Butcher spoke too exhausted to move from the spot, his hips painfully sore.

Homelander could only offer a placid smile.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry about your hips… daddy.” he said with a short laugh.

Butcher would’ve loved to rest, to fall asleep and begin his plan but those two had too much pent-up bullshit to deal with.

Ashley seemed over the moon as the supe showed her what it was like to fuck the world’s strongest and fastest man, drooling as he fucked her and stuffed her spare empty hole with one of her toys, pulling on the toy as he trusted inside her with his actual being, being stuffed so compeltely by his cum and her toys she wanted to be left empty... Homelander wanted one thing and that was for this woman to understand that she was owned.

Fighting the exhaustion drifting in and out of consciousness, Butcher would wake to his penis being kissed and licked, Homelander sucking with gentle force, wafting in the flavor, savoring his precum and his own leftover taste, his hand pulled harshly on the scalp letting himself be lost in the feeling, enjoying the long wet tongue exploring William as the redhead joining him seconds later.

There wouldn’t be an inch the two weren’t enjoying.

In a lost second Homelander would mount him, fucking himself as Ashley squeezed at his chest and grazed her teeth on his shoulders.

He could only smirk at the sight of Homelander… at the drool on his chin, and his lost stare.

He could only smirk as the man felt forward covering them both with holy milk, as Butcher’s seed was cleaned out of him by her tongue.

The night became too heavy for the trio.

Butcher had only one thought in his mind but as Homelander nuzzled his side, wanting to feel him as he slept, as Ashley wrapped herself from behind him, Butcher postponed his plans… just for a night.

One night wouldn’t hurt.

By morning they all would realize the enormity of what they had done… the magnanimity of their actions, he thought.

Instead…

There she was cooing, looking refreshed and delighted, she shushed at Butcher as he woke up groggy and sore, the man looked down gaining awareness, remembering what had transpired.

One look and he was more than just awake and sober.

Homelander latched on her breast, sucking shamelessly, suthering as she caressed his ear, his other hand softly massaging his free breast, well aware of the milk spilling as he gave light squeezes.

Bliss.

That’s all he could feel, the taste all consuming, all divine, his body reborn as he enjoyed the taste of her, Ashley had only done so by accident, joking as he stared at the milk he had accidentally managed to squeeze out from her moments before while titty fucking, he had come and almost passed out to the sight of his cock covered in milk, coming so hard he had cringed and cried for how good he felt-- instead of runnign away Ashley hadn’t hesitated to showered him with affections as she moved upwards... offering him what he had dreamed off...as his tongue took the soft pink nipple into his mouth, he smiled.

Quivering as he took those first few gulps, as he squeezed her nipple with his tongue and found gold.

Wanting more and Ashley was glad to provide.

This was all he had ever hoped for… feeling the swollen bud on his lips… savoring every drop as the woman cooed and caressed him with all the loving tenderness she reserved for her child just now lended to him, seeing him like this brought an euphoria unlike anything before, seeing him so small and needy, whining as she adjusted herself to help him feed, seeing his nose nuzzle and press on her chest as he seeked her out… to know she could exert so much power over him with just a simple action, was a rush.

Homelander was in heaven squeezed between the two lovers, Butcher smirking to himself as he squeezed the man’s side, knowing he could use this ammo for the rest of his life.

Then the baby woke up.

Somehow it had slept peacefully the entire night, and Homelander could smell the reason for her interruption, he cried as she parted promising to come back, Butcher took to homelander mockingly offering his chest as a pacifier, staring at him with lost blue eyes before taking on the offer afraid that Butcher would change his mind.

He squeezed at those big beefy pecs seeking nourishment but finding nothing, Butcher drowning in the wanton of Homelander’s, how much the man wanted his mouth to be filled, sucking on fingers that dare try to part him from his comfort, it was strange but refreshingly good sensation for William.

Butcher would think about escaping another day… This was something he could use against him.

A trap designed by its victim, so he smiled and copied Ashley.

Homelander rested… happy, content, eager to wake up later, knowing that he had done a good job teaching them that they belonged to him.

#personal #cozy corner kinktober #homelander #billy butcher #ashley barrett #butchlander #homeash #AshButch?#ESL so sorry for grammar #this was longer than I expected but am really proud of how it turned out #homelander fanfiction #butchlander fanfiction

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