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#I’m a tiny salty already
deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.
Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.
Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?
He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??
Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.
The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.
Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??
He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.
Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.
——
“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.
Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.
“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”
Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.
“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”
Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.
Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.
He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.
(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)
“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”
“I kept them in line!”
Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.
“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”
“I-”
“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”
“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.
“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”
“Fine! Fine!”
——
And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.
Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.
In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.
Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.
The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…
——
“So, you’re The Phantom.”
“And you’re Sionis.”
Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.
Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.
“How did you get in here?”
Danny shrugged. “Walked.”
Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.
“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”
“So, you’re a Meta.”
Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”
Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.
“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.
“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”
Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.
“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.
“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”
“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”
Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”
“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”
Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.
“I’ve got her, Phantom.”
Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.
“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”
And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.
But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.
——
Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”
From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?
But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!
Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.
On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.
Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.
Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.
He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.
He sipped his drink as he waited.
“Batman.”
“Phantom.”
“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”
Batman stayed silent.
“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.
“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.
“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”
Batman snarled.
“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.
Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.
“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”
“You-”
“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”
Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.
“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”
Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.
“… Apologies.”
“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”
Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”
Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.
Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.
“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.
Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.
“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”
“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.
Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”
Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.
“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.
Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.
“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”
Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.
“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.
“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.
——
“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”
“Hn.”
“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”
Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.
——
The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.
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dilfsfordinner · 5 months
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honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader
a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband
warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff
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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.
Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.
It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.
Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.
For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.
It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.
It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.
Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.
Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.
“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.
Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.
He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.
Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.
Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.
Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.
“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.
“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.
***
It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.
His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.
Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.
Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.
Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.
“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.
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ab4eva · 1 month
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‘The Three of Us’
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Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel
Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️
Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only
Word count: 8k
-
Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.
When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.
“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.
Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.
-
“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).
“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.
“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.
-
The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.
Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.
-
Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:
Even when the cold comes crashing through
I'm putting all my bets on you
I hope they never understand us
I put my heart inside your palms
My home in your arms
Now we know nothing matters
Nothing matters
And you can hold me like he held her
And I will fuck you like nothing matters
You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.
“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.
“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.
-
“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.
“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.
Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.
That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.
“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.
The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…
Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.
“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.
“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.
Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.
Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.
-
“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.
“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.
“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.
“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.
“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.
“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.
“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.
“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.
-
The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.
“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.
“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.
“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”
Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.
“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.
“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.
“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.
You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”
Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.
Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.
“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.
“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.
“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.
“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”
“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.
“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.
“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”
You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.
“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”
Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”
It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.
“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.
“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.
“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.
“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.
“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.
Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”
Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”
When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.
“Are you -is that you…twitching?”
“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”
“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.
After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”
Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.
“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.
“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.
“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”
“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.
For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.
“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.
“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.
“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”
Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.
“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”
You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.
“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.
Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.
“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.
Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.
“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”
He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.
“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.
“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.
-
Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.
You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.
“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.
“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”
Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.
“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”
Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”
-
Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty
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miniseokminnies · 11 days
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post show ritual—-c.s
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⛧ pairing: choi san x nuetral!reader ⛧genre: secret relationship idol!san ⛧wc: 0.8k ⛧warnings: 18+ MDNI, oral [m. recieving], praise kink if you squint ⛧a/n: tiny drabble due to the absolute insanity that was chellateez (i fully blame @myhimbomingi)
You never got tired of watching Ateez on stage, the eight men you’ve gotten to know by working with them for the last few years never disappoint in their performances. Even though your true job was being a stylist for Choi San, the other seven members treated you like family all the same. 
Hearing the footfalls of the members exiting the stage made your heart beat faster, you were afraid it might beat out of your chest. You watched as the group embraced each other, proud of the performance. Eventually San broke away from the others and his eyes found yours. The air between you heavy before he engulfed you in a hug. You felt him melt into you, the adrenaline and nerves calming as he felt secure. 
The two of you stayed like this for several moments before San was wordlessly pulling you toward his dressing room. You felt the eyes of the members burning into your back as you followed him through the door. Once behind closed doors San was able to breathe a bit easier.��
“You were amazing” you moved closer to him, breaking the silence. His hands found purchase on your hips as a smirk graced his lips. 
“I always feel confident,” he pulls you closer, “when I know I’m performing for you” with that he closes the gap between you and connects his lips to yours. The response is immediate, the butterflies in your stomach awaken and heat rises to your cheeks. 
His tongue swipes along your lower lip, requesting entrance, that you excitedly grant him. Adrenaline spurring him on, his hands move from your hips to take greedy handfuls of your ass. While his mouth and hands were occupied you took this opportunity to start undoing the belt you had picked out for him hours ago. 
He leaned his head back against the door behind him, separating your lips, “What are you doing?” he inquired, eyes still closed. 
“Let me take care of you” you whispered back, now reaching up to tie back your hair. San’s only response was a choked whimper. You took hold of his waistband and lowered yourself onto your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you. Watching as his semi hard length sprang free you spit into your hand. 
“Oh…” San breathed at the sound of your spit. You took him in your hand and began to pump. Another choked whimper from the man above you made you smirk. You always had him in the palm of your hand. 
You leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the tip, licking your lips to taste the salty bead of precum that was already beginning to leak. “Baby, please,” San whined. 
“Fine, because you asked so nicely, and did so well today” you teased before pulling the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around him, just like you have many times before, but you never get tired of the sounds San makes for you. You stayed here giving attention to his tip and tonguing over his slit for several moments before you felt his large hand latch on to your ponytail. 
Hollowing out your cheeks you move to take in as much of his shaft as you could manage. San groaned above you feeling your warmth enveloping him. Soon, you feel him hit the back of your throat and you begin bobbing your head up and down, upping your pace. San’s grip on your hair gets tighter as his hips begin to move in sync with your movements. 
San is essentially fucking your mouth at this point, looking up at him from your position on your knees you see his mouth slack open and his head rested against the door. 
“My baby, so good for me,” he mumbles, “always taking care of me” you can tell he’s starting to get close by the way his hips buck into your mouth. 
“San! Hurry it up!” you hear Hongjoong call from outside the door, “we have a live to do!” You watch San swing his fist back hitting the door with a loud slam. 
“Baby..” he whines, and you pick up your pace, you always know what he needs. His hips begin to sputter and his thrusts become erratic. Soon his release begins as hot white ropes hit the back of your throat. He holds your head there allowing you time to swallow everything he gives you. “So good to me…” San repeats. Once you're confident you have milked him dry you begin to pull back and off him. 
He pulls you up and into a chaste kiss. He can taste himself in your mouth and feel the flush on your cheeks. Pulling up his pants, like the good stylist you are you help him redo his belt. “Meet me at the hotel later?” he asks, his hand resting on the doorknob, “I’ll be sure to pay you back” he winks and is out the door. 
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Stress Relief
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Pairing(s): Thor Odinson x male reader
Rating: Explicit
Requested: Yes or no?
Warnings: top Thor Odinson, bottom male reader, praise kink, oral sex, cum eating, slight spanking, biting, and blowjob (Thor receiving.
Word count: 1.8k
Summary: Thor wants to unwind after working and dealing with his brother. You decided to give Thor the best way to relax. 
A/N:  Hello, my 🍓little strawberries🍓! I’m finally on summer break, so now I can work on requests! Hopefully, all requests will be made before the year ends. Anyways, enjoy!
Tags: @spnfanboy777 @meyocoko @buckyshusband0 @blurredx18 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost
Read before continuing: If you’re younger than 18 or any warnings make you uncomfortable, do not continue reading! You may continue reading if there are no problems.
You were lying in bed, scrolling through social media to entertain yourself. Some people were doing the most idiotic things; others told stories from Reddit; and random memes that were becoming popular.
Nothing was happening. Usually, something would be happening at the Avengers Tower, but everybody is out doing something. Tony was testing new weapons in the desert, Steve and Sam were in Washington D.C, and the others you don’t know. 
Everything was quiet until your door opened. You jumped at the sudden intrusion until you looked to see it was Thor. 
He had an annoyed look on his face. You thought there was a vein popping out on his forehead. His jaw was clenching, face red with annoyance. He just looked at you before his features softened, but the look before was still there. 
He then sits right next to you.
You would ask what happened until you remembered why he was gone. Thor had gone back to Asgard to deal with some things. “Was it Loki or Odin?”
“Yeah,” Thor replied as he lays down.
“Do you want me to help you relax?” You said, moving your body closer to Thor’s. He immediately knew what you were hinting at. He smirks at your offer. 
“I would love that, darling,” Thor whispers into your ear as his rough hands roam underneath your shirt. He is pinching your nipples. You groan at the sensation of Thor’s touch. It was rough but soft and sweet.
Thor pulls his hands away. He pushed all the sheets to the side. His hands then move towards his pants, rubbing the noticeable bulge, blue eyes staring into yours. 
You moved from your position on the side of the bed to the floor between his legs. Thor removed his pants, revealing his enormous bulge trapped underneath his undergarments. You could see the thing throbbing with a little wet spot at the tip. 
Your mouth salivates at the sight. Thor smirks as he strokes his cock through the fabric. Without a second thought, you pulled down the last piece of clothing: The most delicious part of Thor.
No matter how often you saw Thor’s cock, it always amazed you. He had the cock of a God. 7.5 inches (19 cm) with veins tracing to the red tip. A somewhat darker shade compared to the rest of his body. His cock was also girthy, measuring 6.5 inches wide (16 cm). You could see the tiny slit already leaking a transparent liquid, precum.
“Like what you see?” Thor said gruffly, as he grabbed his thick cock and slapped it against your left cheek. Smearing his pre-cum all over your cheek. You sigh as Thor guides his cock to your mouth. 
The salty taste of Thor’s precum made contact with your tongue as he slowly pushed deep into your mouth. You could feel your nose touching Thor’s trimmed bush. An incredible musky scent feels your nostrils as Thor doesn’t move your head.
After a few moments, you pulled your head and began slurping his thick cock. Your tongue swirling around the fat red tip, drinking his sweet but salty pre-cum. Thor’s chest heaves as he feels your warm wet mouth slurping his enormous cock.
Thor’s cock felt warm and heavy inside your mouth. You pulled back again to lick the sides of his cock before tracing your tongue along the protruding vein. Thor begins to move his hips as he grips the bed sheets. His balls are slapping against the bottom of your chin. 
His grip on your head tightens as he thrusts into your mouth. “Fucking– so good…” Thor moans as he thrusts a little faster. He could feel your tongue flicking over the silt drinking his sticky precum from the source. 
Thor looks down to see a beautiful sight. You are on your knees sucking his cock, drool, and precum sipping from the edges of your mouth. His cock glistened in the light from your saliva as you moved up and down his cock.
“F-Fuck, baby… Y-you’re– s-sucking m-me so… g-good!” Thor begins to remove his shirt. His chiseled body glistened in sweat as his other hand moved to his pectorals. He groans as he plays with his rock-hard nipples. Twisting and turning while squeezing his pecs. 
“Y-You’re amazing! F-fuck” Thor thrusts faster as he lets out a loud groan. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, teeth-gritting. You feel his thick creamy cum gush out from his tip, making contact with your tongue. A salty taste was prevalent as it ran down your throat.
You could feel your cock throbbing in your pants. Some pre-cum seeping through the cloth of your briefs. You happily let the cum run down your throat.
Thor’s chest heaves up and down as he tries to calm his breathing. Sweat runs down his forehead as he continues to admire you from above.
You pull back from between his legs as you gather the remaining cum around your mouth. Eyes half-closed and lazy as you swirl your tongue around the cum coated finger.
“Fuck, baby… You must want me to fuck that tight ass of yours? Yeah?” *Thor growls as he pulls from the ground and throws you onto the bed. Face first and ass facing him.
You could feel Thor beginning to remove your pants and your briefs. The cold air makes your throbbing cock shiver from the coldness. 
Thor was mesmerized. His large rough hands move across the fat of your ass. Giving your ass slaps as he smirks from the way the flesh jiggles. 
His hands spread your cheeks apart to reveal your tight hole. Puckering from the air as it clenches around nothing.
He was chuckling to himself as he pushed you further into the mattress as his hands continued to smack your ass, enjoying the way it jiggled from the hard impact. Your ass turning red with noticeable handprints. 
“You’ve been working out? This ass got fatter. I like that,” Thor says as he squishes and kneads it like dough. Even though he had an orgasm a few minutes ago, his cock was throbbing again. 
The bed’s springs squeak as Thor’s heavy body moves temporarily to search through a nearby dresser. After a few seconds, he returns with a bottle of lube.
You could hear the bottle cap opening and the lubricant squeezing out onto his hand. Thor smears the lubricant all over his hand before moving them down toward your hole. 
Your eyes widened for two reasons. One was feeling Thor slowly penetrate your tight hole with the lubed finger. His thick fingers slowly pushed deeper until you felt one hit your prostate.
The other one is Thor wrapping his large hand around your throbbing cock. You could feel him slowly stroking. One finger swirls the tip to gather copious amounts of precum. He smears it everywhere, and your cock glistens. 
Your teeth clench the bed sheets as you bite down from how Thor is fingering your ass and stroking your leaking cock
“Does that feel good, baby?” Thor says as he thrusts his fingers faster and strokes your cock. He leans down to your neck, biting and licking your ear. 
You start to breathe harder. Your cock was throbbing and leaking more. The tip turns a little red. Your balls tighten as it signals your orgasm.
Thor strokes you faster. You moan into the sheets as your cock, overstimulated from Thor’s constant stroking and fingering, finally spurts out its white sticky cum. The substance coats Thor’s hand and he makes sure to milk every drop. 
Your eyes rolled back as you covered Thor’s hand in cum. 
“Delicious,” Thor says as he licks his hand clean of your cum. He pulls his fingers out after determining you were stretched enough.
You then feel Thor slap his hard cock against your cheek. Thor smiles as he hears your moans. He grinds his fat cock between your ass cheeks. The tip nearly penetrated the rim.
“It’s been forever since I pound this tight ass,” Thor growls as he pushes the tip past the rim. His cock was surrounded by the lubed insides, slowly pushing deeper until his cock rested against your prostate.
Your eyes rolled back as you felt Thor’s thick cock penetrate your ass. His groans could be heard as you clenched around him, sucking his cock deeper.
“F-fuck… r-right- oh… there!” You moan as you push your head deeper into the sheets as Thor settles down for a moment. Letting you breathe and calm down. 
After a minute or two, you give Thor confirmation to continue. He slowly pulls out and pushes back. You grip the sheets tighter as Thor thrusts into your ass. His cock slams into your prostate.  
Your limped cock starts to become erect as Thor continues to ram his cock. 
Thor’s hands grip your hips as he thrust wildly into your ass. His mind turns mushy from how tight you are. Loud squelching noise rings through the room.
He pulls your ass cheeks apart and watches how his cock disappears and reappears from your hole. “Such a slutty ass. This slutty ass belongs to me!” Thor growls as he starts stroking your cock again. Syncing the thrusts and stroking.
“Y-yours! B-belongs to you~” you scream in pleasure as Thor rams his cock into your prostate and his hand stroking your cock. 
You could feel your second orgasm nearing from the constant stimulation. His cock rearranging your guys. 
After a few more rough thrusts and strokes, your thighs tense and your hole clenched around his cock. Back arches up and screams of ecstasy as your orgasm ripples through your body. Spilling thick cum onto the bed sheets underneath you. Thick and hot seeping from the tip.
Thor groans as he gave a few more thrusts until he grips your hips tighter. The knot in his guts breaks open; he fills your ass, one spurt after another. Filling you to the brim. 
Your mouth fell open as your body collapsed onto the bed. Your body glistens from sweat and exhaustion.
Thor pulls his limped cock out of your ass. He grabs and spreads your cheeks, admiring the art he created. Cum gushing out. He then collapses next to you.
He pulls you closer to his body. You could feel your body sticking against his sweaty muscular one. He buries his head into your nap. 
“I love you, m/n.” 
THE END.
A/n: it's been forever since I wrote smut. I'm sorry if this took so long to post. Anyways, bye, my 🍓little strawberries🍓!
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ilyluffy · 10 months
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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐤𝐢 。°。° 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ken kaneki x afab!reader
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hard dom!kaneki, brat taming, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping, degradation, slut shaming, mentions of breeding, throat fucking, cum swallowing
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.5k+
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“𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄?” ken snarls down at you. your brain has been turned to mush at this point. following multiple orgasms had you had no strength left in you to speak, much less act like a brat.
when you fail to respond a malicious laugh rises in ken’s throat. “that’s what i thought”.
by now you foolishly think that the lesson is over. the lesson ken promised to teach you when you started talking back to him earlier. with you being rendered into a drooling mess you believe that he should have no other reason to continue punishing you.
oh how wrong you were… his cock is still inside your spent out pussy so there’s nothing stopping him from starting to snap his hips again.
you let out an overstimulated sob when you feel his dick drag against your gummy walls. you can’t take anymore but ken doesn’t seem to care. in fact his palm comes down to slap against your tender clit in order to shut you up. your loud whining immediately shifts into a pathetic little whimper at the stinging sensation.
“stupid slut, if you didn’t want this you should have thought about that before misbehaving” ken growls, showing no sign of going easy on you. you thought at the very least he’d be tired after fucking you for hours. surely his pace should be a tiny bit slower, right? no, ken was fucking your so fast that it was like this was your first round.
all you can do is lay there and take it. your legs, which surely wouldn’t work by the end of this, tremble as they sit on ken’s shoulders. it’s hard to hear all of the degrading comments leaving the man’s lips with the wet noises coming from your cunt. it’s a result of your juices mixing in with his seed. if him calling you a dumb whore wasn’t enough to humiliate you then surely the sounds worthy of the fittest porn would.
“i’ll give you a break after i cum one last time but don’t expect me to breed you again. this time you’re gonna swallow” ken orders, showing you his version of mercy. it’s not like you're in a position to refuse so you nod your head in exhaustion.
with eyes lidded, you watch as ken uses your hole to his liking. you don’t have it in you to make anymore of a mess but that doesn’t matter because ken’s cock is starting to twitch inside of you. pulling out, he grabs a handful of your hair. yanking your face up to his cock, he shoves the whole thing past your lips. somehow you find the energy to suck as ken begins to fuck your throat.
“that’s a good little cumdump” he groans as his tip rams against the back of your throat. “fuck- cumming. make sure to drink it all”.
you do as your order, gagging as you attempt to gulp down all his semen as it’s released into your mouth. luckily because he’s already emptied his balls a couple times too, it isn’t much. just a few salty ropes.
once all he has to offer is in your stomach, ken pulls you off of his softening length. “alright i’m done” he assures you, allowing you to collapse back down onto the bed. “you can get some sleep”.
“not mad at me anymore?” you slur, having difficulty just forming a sentence.
ken nods as he runs a hand through his damp white hair. “i’m not mad. 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆”.
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2022–2023 © ilyluffy — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
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darby-rowe · 4 months
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18+ | nsfw | mdni sub!coriolanus snow ☓ fem!dom!reader cw anal fingering, anilingus, mentions of saliva, pegging, ejaculating dildo, praise, degradation, facial, dacryphilia, dumbification
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it took some convincing and a lot of patience, but coryo finally decided to let you peg him! oh, what a joyous occasion!
you took your time teasing and prepping his hole, carefully watching his face to help guide you with what made him feel good. he looked so pretty with his legs spread just for you, hearing his cute little gasps and mewls as your tongue teased the outside of his puckered hole.
“stop teasing,” you heard him whine as you drooled saliva all over his entrance, stimulating his glands in preparation for a nice, hard fucking. you couldn’t help but smirk at the power you felt over coryo — him being completely at your mercy.
“i have to make sure you’re ready, baby,” you cooed. “i don’t want this to hurt. i wanna make you feel good. don’t you wanna feel good, bunny?”
coryo could only manage a nod and a tiny “mhm” as your tongue and fingers continued to explore his insides, making him squirm as his rock-hard cock twitched with each movement you made.
soon, you had the ejaculating dildo filled with the spunk lube, and vibrating at a low frequency as you hooked it onto your strap-on. with tenderness and care, you slowly entered coryo’s ass, watching him mewl and writhe underneath you at the new, exceptional pleasure he was growing accustomed to.
“take this cock, baby,” you purred, watching as the dildo disappeared inside coryo. “good boy. good fuckin’ boy,”
it didn’t take long before you were relentlessly thrusting into coryo’s crying body, watching him desperately find purchase within the bedsheets underneath him, or the pillows that supported his head as his blonde curls sprawled around him. you moaned as the harness of the strap-on rubbed against your throbbing clit, making this experience just as pleasurable for you as it was for him.
“s—…so deep—!” coryo cried, hooking his arms around his knees to spread his legs wider for you. “oh god, oh god, oh fuck, oh my god,”
“already babbling like a dumb little baby, aren’t we?” you teased, laughing to yourself at how easy it was to push him to the edge. “look at you, prissy little rich boy getting fucked in the ass by my cock, yeah? you love it. you love getting put in your place, you naughty boy,”
coryo let out high-pitched, pathetic moans in time with your thrusts, punishing his hole to the point where tears spilled from his pretty blue eyes. your mouth watered at the thought of how salty his tears must taste, and so you leaned down for a sample of his willing submissiveness.
“yeah, that’s right,” you growled. “fuckin’ cry like a pathetic bitch for me. let me watch those tears fall from your pretty blue eyes. such a pretty boy. so pathetic and easy to fuck,”
coryo’s sobs only intensified at the pleasure ignited his nerves completely on fire, feeling the apex of his pleasure draw nearer as you fucked him with reckless abandonment. “i wanna come, p-please, i’m gonna come so hard,” he cried. “my cock is gonna explode,”
“then come, you whore,” you commanded through gritted teeth, and soon after that, you had coryo crying, moaning, and whimpering as his dick exploded with thick, white ropes of cum all over his torso. pretty little slut didn’t need for you to touch him to make him come like that.
you withdrew your strap from coryo’s hole and positioned it over his face, feeling the dildo in your hand begin to shake as the fake spunk spilled all over his pretty, wet face. god, the sight was absolutely incredible. if only you had your camera on you, you would take a photo of coryo with the ropes of fake cum on his face.
you sat there for a moment to catch your breath before leaning down to press a kiss to his quivering lips. “good boy,” you praised. “you did such a good job for me,”
don’t be shy, let’s talk. ♡
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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all shook up (zoro x afab!reader nsfw)
zoro knows exactly what buttons to push to get you where he wants you. reader is an artist, franky built her a studio on the sunny!
fem afab!reader, mdni, 18+, wc: 1.2k masterlist
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Tiny wisps of white gently drifted through the bright midday sky; today was a peaceful, beautiful day to be at sea.  However, you found yourself cooped up in your small studio after lunch, determined to place the finishing brushstrokes on a painting you were finishing of Chopper at work mixing medicines.  Zoro had joined you, sitting on the couch in the corner, watching you while he sharpened his swords.  You’re so entranced by the process, lost in your mind, that you don’t notice him stand up and walk behind you.
“Fix your posture.” he whispers in your ear, running his index finger along the back of your spine.  Completely snapped out of your focus, your back snaps upright, and Zoro smirks at the way your blood rushes to your cheeks.
“Much better.” he says, making his way back to the couch and returning to sharpening one of his swords.  The look on his face is increasingly more smug each time he catches you glancing over at him in between brushstrokes, and it becomes nearly impossible to concentrate on anything besides the growing heat spreading through your body. 
Allowing your mind to drift and fantasize, you can almost feel him pressed up against you, mouth on your neck as it had been so many times before.  The rhythmic metallic scrape of his blade against the sharpening stone only reminded you of his slow, deep thrusts, that left you feeling dizzy.  The bottom of his shirt was riding up, exposing part of his midriff—it hadn’t been the last time you looked.  He was working you up on purpose, and it drove you nuts that it took so little to completely unravel you.
When he finally sheathes his sword and sets it to the side, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head, you set your brush down.
“Been looking at it too long.  Think I need a break.” you say with a deep exhale, turning to face him.  The satisfied grin on his face lets you know he sees your neediness written all over your face, despite your attempts to not seem so desperate for him.
“C’mere then, pretty girl.” he says, patting his thigh.  You lock the door, and take his invitation, straddling him and pressing kisses to his jawline, starting outward and slowly moving towards his neck.
“You’re a tease, Zoro.” you mumble in his ear, kissing and nipping the skin on his neck, salty and sweaty from his training session earlier than morning,  “Sitting here and showing me your slutty little waist—”  Gasping, your words are cut off by the rolling of his hips into yours.
“Slutty little waist?” he asks, amused, “What do you call this then, huh?” he says, squeezing the bare, exposed skin of your sides, before letting his hands drift further down to your hips.  You moan softly against his neck as his calloused fingers dip below the waistband of your harem pants and grab your ass.
“You’re the one running around in these pants that you know drive me nuts.  Shame they’re gonna have to come off.” he says, voice husky with lust as one of his hands reaches to tease your clothed slit through your panties, breath hitching as he feels how soaked they are.
“Please, Zoro…” you whine, craving the feeling of his fingers inside you and squirming against his touch.
“You fall apart for me so easily, pretty girl—" he muses as he slides his hand down your panties and slips two fingers inside, eliciting a needy moan from you, “—not that I’m complaining.”
Needy beyond comprehension, you whine as he starts to curl his fingers inside of you.  Already lightheaded, you’re drowning, suffocating in a haze of pleasure.  He smirks at the wanting, dirty moans and gasps you let out as you soak his fingers, hips squirming under his touch.  Eager for more of him, you grab the side of his face and pull his lips onto yours.  He continues the slow thrusts and curls of his fingers as his tongue melts into yours, leaving your senses messy, clouded, and unaware of where your body stopped and his began.
When he breaks the kiss to admire how much of a wreck he’s turned you into, face red, eyes darkened and pupils blown, the wanting sigh you let out makes his cock twitch.
“Lemme ride you—” you try to say, but it comes out a mangled mess, unable to focus as his fingers stroke your sweet spot.
“What’s that?” he asks slyly, knowing damn well what you were trying to say, but wanting to get it out of you again.
“I wanna ride you, Zoro—" you plead, gasping at another deep pump of his fingers.  He smirks as he withdraws them completely and squeezes your thigh.
“Hop on then, lil’ demon.”
He marvels at how fast you’re out of your clothes as he springs his cock free; the fabric pooling at your feet is quickly abandoned as you straddle him and grind your naked core against him.  The strangled moan you let out when he slides into you is muffled as he smashes his lips against yours.  Overwhelmed by need, your hips grind into him, head feeling dizzy as your clit rubs against him.
“You’re so hot when you’re needy like this.” Zoro mumbles against your lips as he grabs onto your hips and pulls them closer, increasing the friction on your clit as you grind against him.  Your response is incoherent and fades into the choir of other lewd sounds that fall off your lips and onto his.  Zoro finds this entertaining, and a muffled chuckle vibrates against your mouth.
“Having fun?” he whispers, pulling away from your lips; a string of saliva still connecting your mouths together.
“Mmhmm—” you hum, too clouded in pleasure to form anything resembling words.
“Good, because you’re not going anywhere until you come all over my cock.” he growls in your ear.
 His words send tingles straight to your core and your hips begin to snap against him erratically.  He groans as the grip on your hip tightens, nearly sending you over the edge as your clit rolls against him just right.  You bury your head into the crook of his neck and pick up the pace, letting out a whine as you get impossibly close.  Delirium overtakes you and you feel weightless when you finally come hard, walls fluttering around his cock.
“Fuck—” Zoro gasps, his thrusts deepening as you go limp in his arms.  Electricity buzzes in your cheeks as he grips your waist and fucks you hard, desperate to feel every last bit of your orgasm and its aftershocks around him.  He was the one losing his mind now, more drunk on the feeling of being inside of you than he could ever be on sake.
“Gonna cum…” he rasps as he grabs the back of your neck and deepens his thrusts even more, speeding up until he finally spills into you, leaving both of you panting and shaking.  You both stay there a moment, enjoying the gentle afterglow of the moment and pressing soft absentminded kisses wherever you could reach, before finally emerging from the haze of lust.
“How’s that for a break?” he teases as you both clean up.
“Feeling better now.” you smile.  “Might need a nap now, though.”
“Me too.  C’mere, pretty girl.” he says, laying down on the couch and pulling a blanket over the two of you.
“Love you Zoro.” you mumble into his chest with a yawn as he snuggles you close, entangling your limbs together.
“Love you more.” he says, kissing your forehead as you both succumb to the comfort of each other’s arms.
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gloryy-vs · 1 year
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hii! can i request a neteyam x metkayina!reader where she’s really quiet/shy (being closer to kiri and tuk) and doesn’t think he notices her a lot, but neteyam is actually very attentive of her and one day he confesses about this in a maybe fluffy/personal moment? i’m sorry if this sounds confusing and thank you in advance. <3
Those Ocean Eyes
|| AS YOU WISH. sorry if it isn’t as good but again, NOT PROOF READ i’m a lil lazy and just woke up
characters: neteyam x metkayina!reader
ratings: SFW , fluffy soft shit , aonung being a butt , neteyam being protective , reader bein all timid 🤭
||
Kiri dipped into the water first, playing around with the sea creatures and Tuk was around collecting shells. Sitting down in the sand, Neteyam and Lo’ak sat on the beach rock next to you and their sisters. You made small drawings in the sand, glancing over to Neteyam occasionally who seemed to be engrossed in Lo’ak talking about his Tulkun.
Each time you looked away, Neteyam glanced at you. Still paying attention to his younger brother talking about his adventures today. You frowned in annoyance, seeing Rotxo and Aonung heading towards you and the Sully’s smugly. Before you knew it, Lo’ak dropped down first much to Neteyams dislike. You kept still, hoping it wouldn’t turn into a fight again, while Aonung was already picking on Lo’ak for his ‘demon blood’. They both tarted pushing each other around, Aonung being right in front of you and honestly he was losing. He kept getting pushed into you, while you struggled getting up in the sand that kept fighting against you. Guess like you were losing too.
Neteyam scowled, dropping down from the rock and hoisting you up carefully, pushing you behind him. “Ay, Skxawngs. Watch where the hell you’re fighting. You could’ve crushed her.” He said with a booming voice. Dusting you off and holding your shoulder protectively. Aonung huffed a small laugh, turning around to say some more bullshit, “If you like her just say that forest boy, she’ll never wanna be your mate anyway-“
Neteyam pushed him back with a strong force, and Aonung tumbled back. Holding his arm out to stop Rotxo. “I said leave, now bro.” Neteyam said before pushing them off into the opposite direction again. You were embarrassed at the mention of you in the conversation. Yet you failed to notice how upset Neteyam got, his breathing growing quick and heavy with annoyance. “You alright?” He asked you, patting the side of your head. You nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing i’m not used to around those morons.” You took the first step back, feeling like your heart would explode if you stayed. Tuk came back, along with Kiri. Both of them were ragging you away. reading to make their necklaces with all the shells they ended up finding. You wanted to speak to Neteyam more, but he was already turned around to scold Lo’ak gently.
..
You weaved through the shells intricately, do sucking on each pattern you tried to make. Big shell, medium shell, tiny shells. You hoped Neteyam would find the necklace flattering, and would appreciate it. The salty wind came through, nearly blowing away your vines and leaves. Before you could react s blue hand pressed them down before picking them up and plopping down next to you in the sand.
It was Neteyam. “Ay, that necklace for me?” He said teasingly, his thigh pressing against you. It was like he had no sense of personal space, not that you minded but you thought it was cute.
“Actually it is, it was supposed to be a surprise.” You laid the necklace into the sand, slowly lowering your hands. Neteyam did the same with all the materials, digging up a place to safely put your hard earned vines. Your bright teal eyes met his gold ones, and he smiled, it could show in his eyes too. Your thoughts kept getting louder, yearning for his affection more and more. Even though you were so timid and shy, you were sure his affection could only be platonic, you were always to yourself, or with his little sisters. Introverted like Kiri was, but as playful as Tuk when it came to the right people.
You dropped your hands into your lap. Holding your breath.
“I need to tell you something,”
“I need to tell you something.”
You both laughed, his teeth showing a lot from the coincidence. “Alright, me first.” He said eagerly, not even waiting for a retort. Neteyams body turned to face yours more, the ocean just barely touching the two of you.
Before he started he noticed the glisten in your eyes, how pretty they looked when the sun was setting. “You’re a gentle girl. There’s this soft light about you, always so caring. Helping us learn the ways of the water people, even though you’re so shy, you were the first to talk to me.” Neteyam placed his hand onto your thigh, reassuringly. His heart was beating as fast as yours.
“I see you. I really do. Everything about you. Even those pretty ocean eyes.” He said, leaning in a little.
Your heart almost dropped to your ass, mouth slightly agape from the compliments he showered you with. He noticed your sincerity, and even admitted to loving the shy and introverted bits. You took his hand, crawling into his arms and he welcomed you eagerly. “I’ve never had someone say that. I was drawn to you the moment I saw you Neteyam.” The moment was very heartfelt, both of you pouring your emotions out just from the tight embrace. “I…see you too, Neteyam. I always did.” He held you tighter, a warm feeling washing over him as the waves engulfed you to up to the waist. Neither of you minded, as you both laid in the sand, holding onto each other.
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heluvaku · 8 months
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PAPER SOLDIER.
A Fyodor Dostoyevsky | BSD x Female Reader x Dazai Osamu | BSD Smut Fanfic.
warnings ; smut, pussy slapping, fingering, threesomes, degradation, biting, praise if you squint, orgasm denial if you get a magnifying glass, not proof-read.
author's note ; hihi !! sorry for my absence, im getting ready for school next week, and my birthday was this weekend :) im working on a fic that was dedicated to myself rn, so have this tiny fic. enjoy! funfact: all my fic titles are songs that i like ;p !
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“Look at her, clenching around nothing. Pathetic, is it not?”
Dazai and Fyodor laughed with each other, degrading you as if  you weren’t right in front of them. You knew not to speak unless spoken to, afraid of the punishment that would ensue if you had. After the two radiant men in front of you finished joking about your neediness, the Russian knelt down between your shaking legs.
“Do tell, Moya lyubov, how bad do you crave to have both of us inside of you?” he asked. Fyodor caressed your thighs, his breath fanning against your warm, sticky core. Instead of answering, you scoot yourself towards the demon's mouth, begging to have his tongue ravage you.
Disappointed, Fyodor pulls away from your legs and sits on his knees, giving you an insincere frown. You looked at the raven haired man confused, unsure of where Dazai went or why he was upset with you. Before you could even process he was now beside you, the brunette man’s hand smacked down on your cunt, making you jolt and yelp.
“We don’t want to do this, Bella. You’ve been such a good girl until now—” Dazai murmured. Using his middle and ring finger, he spreads you open, shooting a wicked smile at Fyodor; which he returns to him.
“—But you hadn’t answered my question. Disobeying orders results in a punishment; I thought you knew that well,” the rat keened. As if he read his mind, Dazai removed his fingers from your pussy and gave it another rough slap. Tears started to form; but all the two men did was chuckle.
“Wanna give it another go, hun?” the detective asked. He kissed your shoulder, resting his free hand on the other to massage you. “Maybe Fyodor’ll give you another chance..”
“Oh, but her teary, desperate eyes are gorgeous..”
“Indeed. But I’m sure she’s ready to redeem herself.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to fuck her?”
“So what if I do? If you didn’t want to as well, you wouldn’t be here,” Dazai teased. Listening to them bicker over you only made you wetter, which hadn’t gone unnoticed.
With a hum, Dazai kissed your cheek and slid his fingers back through your slit. You moaned, arching your back at the sudden pleasure. He moved his digits up, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive clit. “C’mon, baby. Answer his question,” he whispered.
Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Fyodor back between your legs, kissing and biting the inside of your thighs. Just the sight of him and Dazai’s fingers could make you cum, but another punishment is the last thing you want. You open your mouth to speak; but a whine leaves your throat instead.
“You’re not fucked dumb already, are you?” the Russian questioned. “We’ve barely even started, kukla.”
“It’s just a few words, belladonna,” Dazai said. His fingers dove inside you, slowly pistoning them in and out of you, “say what he wants, and we’ll make you feel amazing.”
“Here, I’ll even ask you again:” Fyodor starts, “how bad do you crave to have both of us inside of you?”
“S-So bad.. I need both of you to fill me up..” you mumble. Fyodor tutted you and shook his head with another frown. Sighing with dissatisfaction, the brunette pulled his fingers out of you. The tears that were in your eyes finally fell, hot salty streaks going down your cheeks.
“I’m afraid you need to be louder, darling. Just a little more, I swear to you,” the rat said. Dazai shushed you and wiped your tears while Fyodor kissed and nibbled on your thighs like a mouse with cheese. He always got so close to your quivering pussy, yet pulled away each time he did. “Go on, love.”
“So bad, Fyodor.. I-I need the both of you to cum inside me s-so much I pass out..”
“See, was that so hard?” Dazai teased, a punchable smile plastered on his face. If you weren’t in your current situation, you’d glare at him.
“Khoroshaya rabota, moya dorogaya,” Fyodor praised. “Now, get on your hands and knees..”
“It’s time for your reward.” 
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@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .
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loveliest-venus · 8 months
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bittersweet - straw hats crew x reader
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includes: Straw Hats crew x f!reader warnings: major character death summary: In your last moments, your crewmates reflect on their time with you before saying goodbye. content: angst, slight fluff, can be read as romantic or platonic, no spoilers, 1.5k words.
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Dying was never part of the plan.
Then again, none of this was ever part of the plan, from getting experimented on to meeting a rowdy pirate crew that called themselves the Straw Hats to end up joining them, thus starting what would be the biggest adventure of your whole life. Of course, you regretted it from time to time, it was a wonder how this wasn’t one of those times.
Well, maybe a little bit. You didn’t like seeing tears further dirtying Luffy’s face. It didn’t suit him, you weren’t used to seeing him with anything but a huge smile on his face, the smile that gave you hope despite everything. Your ears were still ringing but you thought you could vaguely hear Nami’s cries, or were they Chopper’s? It was hard to say, the poison had spread fast and you were certain that the blurriness in your vision wasn’t because of tears, as your eyes were dry and bloodshot, most likely from the toxins pumping through your veins, making each breath just a little more painful and… Was it just you or was Zoro screaming? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your eyes closed as your body fell forward, stopping as Luffy’s arms wrapped around your torso to hold you up, making your chin rest on his shoulder.
“Hang on!” Your captain called your name hoarsely, snapping his head to the side, desperate yells piercing through the air as Chopper clumsily dashed over to where you were, slumped over Luffy’s shaking form. “Chopper!”
“D-Don’t worry, I will save her!” Chopper’s fur was wet, snot and salty water mixing as he cried, his voice cracking at the vowels of your name while his arms reached out to help stabilize you. It hurt your heart to see them so distraught and you hated that there was nothing you could do to comfort them.
“Chopper… Stop.” Both of them froze, Luffy’s body growing stiff against your clammy skin. “It’s okay… I’m not scared,” the words tasted bitter in your mouth, in contrast to the serene look on your worn-out features. Blood was trickling down your forehead, hanging on your eyelashes and joining the tiny trail spilling from the corners of your lips. “I’m happy to die… for my crew.” You meant it, your heart had never felt lighter.
“Oi! What the fuck are you going on about?! You can’t just–!” Zoro’s voice was unmistakable, rough like the numerous knives on your body. From the looks of it, your peaceful declaration hadn’t settled well with him. You wished you could meet his gaze one last time, blissfully unaware of the milky sheen on yours. It was then that Chopper realized, with a heartbroken sob, that it was truly too late. “Chopper, do something! Hurry up!”
“Moss-head…” Zoro’s earrings jingled when he turned to look at Sanji, ready to cuss him out until he saw the look on his face, somber and pleading. It dawned on him that the cook had already begrudgingly accepted that this was it. But the swordsman wasn’t known for admitting defeat that easily, if ever.
“Save it, you damn– ,” he was cut off when a pale, delicate hand landed on his broad shoulder, Robin’s lips set in a thin line, the only thing betraying her true feelings was the tight grip she had on him.
“Zoro.” Her eyes were fixated on your battered form, her brow furrowing at your labored breathing. “This isn’t the time. She’s too far gone.” It was Franky’s turn to lose composure, aggressively kicking away the remnants of what had once been a beautiful tree. Taking away the destroyed flora, the unconscious enemies around you and your own blood splattering the ground, this could’ve been called a scenic place to die.
“B-B-But Chopper can fix her up! He always can! R-Right, Chopper?! Tell Robin that she’s wrong!” Usopp’s arms were tightly wound around Nami, both of their eyes growing misty, holding each other up in a fruitless attempt to hold it together. At the archeologist’s soft murmur of your name, their hopes were shattered, Nami’s knees buckling under the weight of her grief, almost taking Usopp with her, forcing him to stand up straighter than before, for once staring at death right in the eye. If only it wasn’t your bloodied face staring back…
Brook remained silent, for once devoid of all joy. It was happening again, someone he held dear was being taken away from him all too soon, your life cut short at the capricious hands of fate. Jinbei had a similar expression on his face, choosing to honor your wishes as you clearly didn’t want to leave them without a proper goodbye.
“Why…?” Luffy, who hadn’t stopped crying, tried shaking you as if that would rip you out of your dazed state, your hair tickling his cheek as you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head up to look at him properly. “Why did you do it?!” He kept yelling your name, now crushing you against his scarred chest, refusing to let you go. “You can’t leave us!” A choked sob rocked his body, a shiver running down your spine at the sheer pain lacing his youthful voice.
Chopper was clinging to your leg, burying his face in your calf to hide his swollen eyes. “I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry! Please…” The mink was talking to himself at this point, stuck between begging whatever deity was listening and apologizing to you for not getting to you in time, for not being smart enough to find a cure. Zoro’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, loathing the helplessness wrapping around their group viciously, refusing to look away from you, still being held up by the devil fruit user’s embrace. His heart was fighting tooth and nail to keep itself from breaking, minuscule cracks growing the heavier your eyes got. Unbeknownst to him, there was already a scar in the shape of you.
Sanji gritted his teeth, taking a few steps in your direction, blinking away the moisture building up in his lash line, he didn’t want to miss any detail in your face, knowing it was the last time he’d ever get to admire it. In his eyes, you were as beautiful as ever, not even death could take your beauty away from you. Nothing would convince him otherwise.
Their allies could only watch, growing restless as the silence continued, were you gone already? None of them were close enough to see your face clearly, your crewmates had formed a circle around you, protecting you from unwanted eyes. Each of them had different opinions on your rambunctious group, however, none of them could deny that you were fiercely loyal to each other and seeing such a tight-knit crew lose a member was disheartening, a few of them inching closer to their own. It was an unspoken agreement, to pay their respects to the person who had given it her all to win this battle, saving them from a similar fate.
“Because… you called me your friend.”
Your soft voice cut through their thoughts seamlessly, a few gasps escaping from Nami, Usopp and Chopper. Zoro’s eye widened, almost losing his grip when the meaning behind that phrase registered in his brain; whereas Sanji chose to let his feelings take over, slowly sinking to his knees. Brook hung his head, and if he had eyes, he would’ve closed them, not wanting to witness the inevitable. Franky, on the other hand, kept his steely gaze on you, his fists growing tighter with each droplet of your blood that had touched the ground, none of this made any sense to the cyborg whose robotic body shook with the strength of his pained weeping. Your sweet words were like a knife to Jinbei’s kind heart, all of his memories with you as part of the crew playing like a cinematic sequence in his mind, you were one of the first to approach him when he had finally accepted Luffy’s invite. Robin could only smile, finally allowing her tears to drip down her face, wishing she could hold you for one last time. Life without you was unfathomable to them at this point, could this truly be reality? Wasn’t there any way to rewind time to save you?
None of them could see Luffy’s face, his reaction to you admitting that you were willingly exchanging your life for theirs in the name of your friendship. But it wasn’t hard to guess, seeing as he’d pressed his face into your neck, inhaling your scent to soothe his racing heart, torn to pieces by you and his inability to help you. He knew from the moment that he saw you that you would become an important part of his crew, however, he never imagined that it would end like this. He wasn’t ready to continue his journey without you. How could he become the King of the Pirates if you weren’t by his side?
“You truly are the best crew I could’ve asked for. I’m thankful for you… From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” Your eyes were fully closed, the corners of your lips curling up ever so slightly in a loving smile. It was a breathtaking image that would be branded into their hearts forever, sealed with your very last words to them.
“I love you.”
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© 2020-2023 loveliest-venus — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Please do NOT repost, translate, modify, use for AI or claim my content as yours.
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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The year was 1997 when everything changed. Wayne got the call a few minutes before 5am. It had been years since he regularly worked night shifts - thanks to Scott’s financial stability, he had managed to move on from his job at the plant and instead worked as a handyman now, with his own van and a logo designed by Eddie - but getting up at irregular hours had become part of his DNA so when Scott was still groggily mumbling in bed, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes, Wayne was already at the phone. They had been anticipating this call and Wayne basically pulled Scott out of bed and into the car.
They arrived at the hospital around 5:40. Wayne would never forget that first sight when he opened the door of the hospital room: Steve and Eddie both cradling a tiny bundle of blankets in their arms, their limbs practically merged together, their heads resting against each other and matching overjoyed smiles on their faces. And right in their corner, as always, the true hero who made it all happen: Robin Buckley.
Eddie looked up at him with a look of complete awe on his face. The look of a father. Wayne felt a lump in his throat and he grabbed Scott’s hand as they walked over to the boys and the tiny little humans in their arms.
“Meet your granddaughters,” Eddie said, his voice hoarse but unmistakably proud. Up-close, Wayne saw the salty traces of tears on his face.
“You wanna hold them?”
Wayne started stuttering something unintelligible, but before he knew it, one of the babies was placed in his arms. The girl felt too small, too breakable, for hands as big and boorish as Wayne’s. But Scott was resting his hands on Wayne’s shoulders from behind him, always the calming presence he needed, and the baby made a tiny, but clearly contented, sound.
“This is Maya,” Steve said in a low voice.
“Hey, Maya,” Wayne whispered to the girl. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful, completely different from how Wayne remembered Eddie as a baby. That boy had been a loud, audacious troublemaker from day one.
“And this is Kate.” Steve turned to Scott. “You wanna hold her?”
An unsure look crossed Scott’s face. “I don’t - I -”
“Go ahead,” Eddie interrupted his adorable stuttering. “You’re just as much their grandpa as Wayne.”
The smile that started shining from underneath Scott’s mustache was almost more beautiful than the newborn baby in Wayne’s arms. Scott cautiously took the little bundle from Steve’s arms, cradling the little girl against his chest.
Wayne cautiously handed Maya back to Eddie and sat down at Robin’s bedside. The girl looked pale and exhausted, but the grin on her face was brighter than ever.
“Congratulations, grandpa.”
“I’m proud of ya, kid,” he replied. “What you did for my boys is...” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what that was, but coming up empty. He had never been good with words - but Robin seemed to understand what he meant anyway, tearing up a little bit as Wayne gently squeezed her shoulder.
“It’s what they deserve,” said Robin. “I mean, just look at them!” She nodded towards the scene at the end of her bed: Steve gently rocking one of the twins - Wayne already lost track of who was who - in his arms, with Eddie and Scott right beside him fussing over the other girl together. The baby was tucked safely in Eddie’s arms, with Scott’s hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and with the matching overwhelmed smiles that had completely taken over both their faces, a stranger would never guess that they weren’t actually related to each other.
Scott looked up, into Wayne’s eyes, and his gaze was even softer than usual. It made Wayne’s breath catch, as if they hadn’t been together for ten whole years by now, as if Scott’s smile was still something new. And maybe right now, it actually was. Everything was new. Everything was different. Everything had changed, in the best possible way.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months
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Alex's First Steps
Alex hits a major milestone!
Warning: None, just Kelce Family fluff!
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Travis held Alex’s tiny hands in his as he helped him stand up, the two of them playing on the floor in Bubba’s playroom. “Come on Bud, I need you to walk before I leave tomorrow.” Travis made sure to whisper, knowing you were in ear shot. Alex had started pulling himself up on any chair he came across and was even starting to cruise around the house, and Travis knew that walking was next. Being in the NFL meant that he was away from his family a lot, and while you constantly assured him that the both of you were fine when he was away, he was having a difficult time missing a lot of Alex’s firsts.
The one-year-old gave it his best effort, grunting as he tried to stand on his feet before falling on his behind, letting out a loud giggle. Alex was always tickled whenever he fell; he thought it was the funniest thing.
“Travis, when he’s ready to walk, he will. Don’t push him, please.” You walked into the room, a full laundry basket balancing on your hip.
“I know. I just don’t want him to do it while I’m gone. I already missed his first laugh, the first time he ate solid food. I just don’t want to miss anything else.” You could hear the sadness in your husband’s voice. He loved being a dad, and missing all of his first child’s major milestones crushed him.
“I think he still has a couple of weeks, but I promise that if he does walk, I will video it for you.” You sat down next to your boys, Alex immediately crawling over to you so he could sit in your lap. “Why are you being so hard on yourself about this?”
“I just feel like I’m always having to pick or choose between football and my family, and every time I choose football it feels like the wrong choice.” He raked his hands down his face, frustrated with himself. “Travis that is not fair to you. This is your career, its important, and it’s such a big part of who you are. Sure, you’ve missed some of Alex’s firsts, but you’ve also been there for a lot of them too. The first time he slept through the night, the first time he stood up, when he said his first words.”
“You’re still salty about that, aren’t you?” Travis looked at you, trying to stifle a laugh. You rolled your eyes, allowing Alex to crawl away to one of his toys across the room. “I spend every day with him, and his first word was still ‘Dada’. Of course, I’m still salty about it!”
“I know you’re right, but it doesn’t hurt any less. If you even think that he might start walking, let me know and I’ll fly back here in an instant. This is one thing I am not going to miss.”
“What, baby?” You turned around when you saw Trav’s face light up. His eyes went wide as he watched Alex pull himself up on the rocking chair, turning around to face both of you as he wobbled on his feet. You hurried to pull your phone out, fumbling to open your camera. Just as you were starting to record, Alex fell, clapping his hands together and giggling, so proud that he got your attention. “Okay, now he’s just messing with me.” Travis chuckled as he stood up, sweeping Alex up into his arms.
When Alex left for his away game on Sunday, he texted you what felt like every hour, asking if Alex had taken his first steps yet. As if he knew how badly Travis wanted him to walk, he teased it all weekend, standing up and staggering, sitting back down before you could get anything recorded; your phone became a permanent fixture in your hand.
“Did he walk yet?” Travis forwent any greetings as he entered the house, dropping his duffle bag down by the garage door. You were in the kitchen with Bubba, making dinner. “No, you didn’t miss anything.” You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, giving him a quick kiss. “Hi, baby, how are you? How was your weekend? Oh, it was good, nothing happened, just my husband texting me every hour on the hour.” You gave Travis a cocky grin, running through the conversation you usually had with him, this time one-sided.
“I’m sorry.” He placed another gentle kiss on your lips. “Did you have a good weekend?” You nodded, breaking away to turn back to the pot on the stove. “Yes, congrats on your win, babe. You’re just in time for dinner. Will you get the plates out? I was thinking we could eat and watch a movie?”
“Can we watch Gossip Girl, instead?” Travis asked you as he pulled out a couple of dishes from the cabinet. “Yes, of course”, you chuckled.
The two of you settled on the couch, Alex playing on his mat in front of the coffee table. He was always interested in trying any food that you were eating, standing up to cruise around the coffee table to get to you. You gave him a small bite of your chicken, which he really enjoyed. “He’s got your appetite.” You looked over at Travis who had already cleaned his plate. “What? I was really hungry.” He shrugged, getting up to get a second helping.
When Alex saw his dad heading back to the kitchen, he pulled himself up again, cruising around the coffee table until he reached the edge.
“Travis, baby, look!” Travis turned on his heels suddenly, just as Bubba let go of the table, taking his first step. Travis bent down, extending his arms out to him. “Come to Daddy, bub!” Alex only made it a couple more steps before he crawled the rest of the way to his dad, but it was still exciting all the same. “Good job, Alex!” Travis looked at you, tears brimming in his eyes. “See, Trav, you didn’t miss it. It’s like he waited for you to get back home. He knew how much you wanted to see him walk for the first time.”
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deathbecomesthem · 6 months
Text
Smut blurb | 900ish words
Sub!Eddie Munson x Reader - Reader has a vagina.
A/N: Eddie is a true switch in my mind, but that definitely means he enjoys his time letting a partner take some control. He has a bit of a pain kink here. Everything is fully consensual and enjoyed by both parties. This is an established relationship.
+18 ONLY
Warning: Biting, restraints, oral sex, a tiny bit of blood. I'm just trying to get my groove back, keep your expectations low.
---
Please. The word has never sounded as beautiful as it does coming through his pretty mouth. A whisper, wet with tears. Please. Please. You want to taste them, feel them on your tongue and swallow them.
Eddie whimpers at the contact of your lips to his mouth. He holds as steady as he can, but you can feel the warm salty tears that have collected on his swollen mouth and your kiss turns to teeth. Tender flesh, raw from Eddie’s gnawing, gives way and now it’s copper and salt your tongue tastes as it licks across. You can feel his cock leaking at the feeling of your teeth and tongue and know that a light pinch of his nipple would have him cumming into the open air. 
Please. The word, warm and wet, is exhaled across your still open mouth. You take notice of the tremble in his arms. He’s not fighting against the rope anymore, too tired for the fight. Everything is heightened for him now, his body understands it’s under your control. You give and take, pain and pleasure. He’s feeling it. Every touch. Every small movement of your body that makes the bed creak and give underneath your form.
“Please? Baby. You’re being so polite. Haven’t I given you enough, hm?” You whisper in his ear. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail that he pulled back with his own two hands. At the time, he imagined a scene almost exactly like the one he’s found himself in. Vulnerable, open wide and aching. 
Please. It’s the only word he can think to say. He’s far gone, a little too far gone for what’s coming next, so you straddle his chest. You can feel his hazy eyes on you, barely registering your naked chest. The only thought in his head that he needs to feel. And then -
Crack. Your open handed slap across his already reddened cheek vibrates down his neck. His ears ring at the contact, and the sting across his skin.  It does the trick, the fog clears. You can see his pupils widen, and he’s focused on the sight before him. You, you, you. 
“There he is,” you coo, running a finger down his chest across the fresh bite marks, “my good boy.” 
Eddie’s mouth is open, but he doesn’t say that word again. He’s quiet. If he’s quiet, he might finally get his prize. He has been good tonight. Well, he’s been good enough after he spent the hours preceding this fun goading you into it. Teasing you. Putting a hand to your back and leading you to the edge where he knows you can really test the limit and make him be good for you. Pushes you to the place where the tears don’t make you soft for him, but instead pull the tension a little tighter.
“Eddie. Tell me right now, because I will be so disappointed if I found out you’re lying to me,” you pinch his nipple between your fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get his attention, “if I ride you, will you be able to hold on long enough to give me what I need?”
Eddie knows what you’re asking, and he wants to nod immediately. Yes, please. Please. Sit down on me, give me what I need. But he knows what will happen as soon as the tip of his cock feels your warm and wet cunt brush against him. So, he takes a calming breath, focusing on your face, and shakes his head. 
You reach above his head, and loosen the biting grip of the ropes around his wrists. “You really are so good tonight, Eddie. Thank you for telling me the truth.” Eddie’s arms are weak, and they drop to the bed. His cock, though, is still red and swollen from the hours of play without the satisfaction of ejaculation. “I’m gonna give you something we can both enjoy.”
You pull yourself off of Eddie’s chest, leaving it damp with your arousal, and swing your body around to straddle his face. “I’m gonna ride you, and when you make me feel good, I'll shove that fat cock of yours down my throat. How’s that sound?”
Eddie groans in answer, and you throb at the feeling of it across your slick slit. You’ve been on the edge for a while, and you don’t even care if he makes you cum. This is really about Eddie tonight, and you want to make sure he gets everything he deserves. Everything he wants. And then you feel the fiery muscle, his flat tongue, run against you. He plays you every time, like a fucking fiddle. And suddenly, you feel his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, pulling you down onto his face. His nose is prodding at your swollen and hard clit. He’s gonna make you cum before you even realize he’s managed to get the upper hand.
At the feel of your contracting muscles, Eddie’s cock remembers the way you grip it. He can feel the way they hold it tightly, and he’s cumming right along with you. It’s a little late, but he can feel your hot mouth around him, catching as much of him as you can, and he pulls you down even harder onto him. His clever mouth holds your clit firmly between his tongue and upper lip, and it matches the rhythm of your mouth on his cock. 
In the afterglow, the soft whispers between the two of you are sweeter than honey. You kiss the purpling bruises around his nipples, and coo at him. Baby. Was this too much? You’re gonna be sore tomorrow. Eddie pulls you closer and bites your shoulder. 
“You know I’ll tell you if it’s too much. I love you.”
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hush-writes-preg · 6 months
Note
I watch the harbor every night from my bedroom window. A better partner would be familiar with the look of his boyfriend’s ship by now, but I’m more of a fucktoy than a partner. It’s no surprise that after years of playful sex- often over alcohol- my belly started to swell. The only problem is that my boyfriend is rarely around. His captain only brings the crew to my town once every couple months. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.
I haven’t seen him since he knocked me up.
Maybe that’s intentional. Maybe he knew he slipped, and he chose not to come back, afraid of facing his perceived mistake. Perhaps he figured I wouldn’t find him if he did come back, since I can’t even recognize his ship.
Or maybe he hasn’t been able to come back. I worry endlessly that something happened to him, or to his captain, and he may never show up in town again. My hope is that he will.
But I don’t have time to wait around for him anymore. I don’t have time to stare at the harbor from a distant hill and wonder if any figure in the crowd is him. His baby is coming now.
Wordcount: 911
Themes: Birth, unassisted birth
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You can see the lights from the town below as you watch the docks in vain. You hear the faint sounds of a bustling city at night and the wind whipping across the water to rattle the windows of your tiny apartment. The old tenement isn't much, but it is cheap, and at least your linens are clean. 
And nobody pays any mind to the young person with their illegitimate pregnancy here. 
Another cramp ripples through your belly, large, tight, and round beneath your tunic. You groan and clutch at the windowsill as you try to breathe through the pain. Your legs feel weak, and your water is dripping down the insides of your thighs, already bare since you had the forethought to lose your trousers early on.
"Gods," you sigh, and try to walk yourself to the bed.
Your contractions are getting closer together. They're stronger, too, and each one leaves you gasping for breath. It won't be long now.
You've almost reached the foot of your bed when another one hits. It's so sudden and so intense that your knees give out, sending you crumpling to the floor. You land on all fours, barely preventing your belly from being crushed under your weight.
Your head feels light. You pant heavily and try to focus on something other than the pain. You smell the salty breeze and hear the waves crashing in the distance. The floorboards beneath your knees are old and rough. Candlelight flickers wildly over the paneled walls, casting deep, dark shadows in the corners of the room.
When the next contraction comes, you cry out. You can't hold it back. You're too overwhelmed. It feels like your whole body is contracting, like there's an iron fist squeezing around your abdomen.
"Gods, gods," you chant, "please, please..."
You have no idea what you're asking for. You want to be strong enough to bear it, you suppose. You want your labor to end.
You can't get back up. All you can do is brace yourself against the bed and wait for the next contraction. You try to count the minutes between them, but your head is getting foggier and you're having trouble remembering the number you've counted up to.
The next wave is worse than the others. It rips a scream from you, and another gush of fluid spills from between your legs. It makes a puddle beneath you and runs down the backs of your legs.
"Oh," you groan, "oh hells..."
You can feel the baby now. You can feel it moving lower in your body, the pressure in your pelvis building.
"Gods," you whimper. You can't think. All you can do is feel the sensations of the baby making its way down, your body forcing it from the only home it's ever known since the night your lover planted it within you.
"It's coming," you whimper to the empty room, "it's coming now."
Where was your lover? Why did you have to endure this alone?
You reach between your legs and feel the opening where the head has begun to spread you open, stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. 
"Ow, ow, ow," you moan, "please...!"
You don't know who you're begging. The gods? Your lover? The baby? 
"Please," you beg, "please, let me have it..."
The head moves further down, aching and burning as your body strains to let it pass. It's almost too much to bear, but you keep breathing through it even after the contraction is over. 
Another gush of fluid runs down your legs. You reach behind you, between your thighs, and feel the baby's hair.
"It's coming," you sob, "it's coming, it's coming, oh, gods..."
You're shaking and sweating. Your belly trembles, still pressed against the floor.
"It's coming," you wail.
There's no way your neighbors don't hear you right now, but your labor isn't their concern. You're on your own.
The baby's head is crowning. The skin around your entrance pulls tight as the baby stretches you further, until you feel as though you're going to split in two. You push, and you can feel the head beginning to emerge.
You're almost there. It's stretching you so wide. You can't believe it's going to fit.
"Come on, come on, come on," you chant, like a desperate spell. It's got to keep going. It just has to. 
The baby's head slides free. It rests in the space between your legs, and the shoulders begin to follow.
"Almost there," you whimper, spreading your knees wider in an attempt to open your pelvis, "almost there..."
You grit your teeth and bear down as hard as you can.
The shoulders pop free. The rest of the baby slides out with a wet squelch, and you reach back just in time to catch it as it tumbles free of your body.
"Oh, gods," you breathe, tears welling in your eyes.
It's a boy. He's bloody and slimy, but he's alive, and he's crying. 
You did it.
"It's okay," you soothe him, "you're okay."
You hold him close, cradling him against your chest as you finally turn and slump against the floor. His heartbeat is fast and strong.
"It's okay," you promise him, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
The baby's cries subside. His tiny fingers curl into fists.
"You're perfect," you tell him, "you're so beautiful."
Your son.
Your little boy.
He looks just like his missing father, and you can't help but weep.
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thisisourlovestory · 4 months
Text
Safe and Sound
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Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU
Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.
Word count- 2.8k
Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was
Chapter 3
The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.
“Good morning!” My head hit the table.
“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.
“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.
“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”
“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.
“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”
I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.
“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.
“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.
“Sorry.” I muttered
“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.
We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.
“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?
Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.
They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.
“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.
I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.
“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.
“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.
I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.
So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.
I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.
I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.
I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.
“You were so young.”
I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.
“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,
“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.
I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.
“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.
We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.
“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.
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