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#Liquid Sound Company
solitudeorigins · 2 years
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https://www.facebook.com/liquidsoundcompany 
 Keeping up with @solitudeorigins  means following along with current projects by band members past and present.  Here's catching up with founding member John Perez's Liquid Sound Company. #solitudeaeturnus #solitudeorigins #doommetal
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ridingthatd · 2 months
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𝐒✘𝐗 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄
boss! sukuna, employe! nanami, bodyguard! toji...
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what happens when the boss of the company you work in, his right hand employee and his dear bodyguard all desire you?
+18, nsfw, heavy smut, my work is really kinky, three cocks, anal, squirting, cumdump, public sex, nipple play, sex toys (ball gag, vibrator), heavy fingering, heavy spit kink, riding, humping, filthy desires, masturbation, heavy rough sex, a little bit of pet play.
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a cumdumpster, a pet play, a sex toy, a hole... that was what you wanted to be, that was what you didn't mind being. you weren't ashamed of it, and you'll never be.
your disgusting desires, your dripping needy pussy, your hunger for their fat delicious cocks. your empty holes needed to be filled, teared by their cocks at any time, at any place.
the feeling of sex was something that you wouldn't trade for billions. the feeling of being boiled alive, the heatness of your skin against their heated skin, the feeling of their sweat dripping from their boiled body to yours as they slam their leaking fat cock into your tight warm pussy. the feeling of their wet tongue sloppily twirling around yours, the feeling of having their warm spit mixed with yours as they suck your tongue in their mouth. the feeling of your perky nipples rubbing against their hard nipples each time they thrust inside your wet cunt, the feeling of your abused, bruised clit brushing against their abdomen each time their sensitive red tip hit your womb, the sound of wet, sloppy smacks filling the room, the sound of the wetness your pussy is gushing out around their cock, dripping down the bed sheets as you make a mess, the feeling of their tongue peaking out to lick the salty tears that was spilling past your eyes, their tongue trailing down leaving a wet trail till they reach your sensitive nipples, immediately wrapping their mouth on it, suckling like a baby in need of milk.
the heated heavy breath, groans, moans fanning against your ear. but what was the best part you may ask? it was when their thick thighs start shaking, trembling, indicating they were close. when they can't control their moans, head burried into your neck their hips going faster and faster, sloppier and sloppier till they slam one last time, curses slip past their red, spit coated lips before they connect your mouth into a wet kiss, their fat cock twitch, throb before you feel a warm liquid squirting inside of your womb, shooting inside of you loads of warm cum as their cock swollen up. as soon as they clam down, breaking off the kiss to stare at the string of spit that was connecting your lips hazily.
but that wasn't enough. that was only a small definition of sex, that was only a small part of your filthiness. that was only the introduction.
you knew better than that, didn't you? you knew better than fucking three man that worked at your company, didn't you? but your needy pussy didn't know better. having three thick cocks ready to breed you, fill your holes with warm cum wasn't something that you could resist?
red messy hair, white unbutton blouse giving you a peak of a tattooed chest, veins and tattood forearms peaking through rolled up cuffes, spread thick thighs under suit pants. pierced eyes watching your every move. how is this man your boss? sukuna ryomen.
"on the floor" his husky firm voice echo through his office. you immediately drop on the floor, on all fours. he leans back his chair, legs man spread as he adjust his huge hard on that was resting on his thigh. his eyes drink you in as he takes in a puff of his cigarette before blowing it out. he free his other hand from his pocket and twirl his finger asking you silently to twirl around.
you listen to what he wants, still on all fours you turn around, your work skirt was hiked up revealing your bare wet pussy and red dildo that was shoved up your pussy he let's out a hiss as he stares at the way your wetness was gushing around the dildo, coating with your juice. from the corner of your eyes, you can see him gripping his fat cock and tugging harshly through his pant.
"crawl" he growls out, lust already filling his voice. you do as he says, swaying your hips seductively as you crawl your way to him, sukuna never broke eye contact with you as he frees his cock. you whimper once you see the way it springs, his red tip leaking with precum as he squeeze it hard with his hand.
once you're close enough that your heated breath is fanning against his fat cock, sukuna groan out. "spit". you clench your thighs as you suck all the saliva in your mouth, collecting it before you open your mouth and spit out directly on his sensitive clit. staring at the string of spit landing on his tip before he harshly huffs and start stroking his cock against your face.
you whine staring hungrily at the way he's beating his leaking cock as your pussy start throbbing around the dildo, needing some fraction. sukuna slowly lean back again and spread his long legs, before he slips his leather shoes under your pussy. your eyes roll back at his next filthy words.
"squirt on my leg you fucking slut" you don't hesitate once you start grinding against his shoe, the feeling of the cold leather against your clit was to good, to good. sukuna groans as he stare at the way your wetness immediately start coating his shoes, dripping down the office floor. you scream into the ceiling once sukuna start bouncing his leg up into your pussy.
"cum! cum! cum! you fucking whore" sukuna growls leaning close to you as his cock start shooting robs of cum directly on your face. your whole body shake as you feel his warm seeds hitting your face, you whine before a hot stream gush out of you, dripping into his shoes.
but that was only the start wasn't it?
styled blonde hair, manly long nose, huge biceps peaking through fitted blouse. a perfect employee wasn't he? nanami kento.
you snap out of your nap as you started to feel something hot, twitching against your lips, the taste of familiar saltiness hitting your taste buds followed by groans and heavy breathing. you slowly open your eyes just to see your employee.
nanami kento, with his thick cock out, and pretty red tip on your lips, leaking as he stroke it against your mouth. his usual styled hair was messy against his forehead as sweat slip past. you can tell he was close by how his whole body was flushed. he clearly didn't notice you were awake yet, to lost in his own pleasure, his eyes rolled back as he sloppily stroke his red tip against your lips.
you decided to tease him by slowly trailing your tongue against his clit causing him to groan out before snapping his eyes to you, jaw clenched before he can say anything you immediately shove his whole cock down your throat, locking it in. nanami harshly grab you by your hair, fisting it, hitting the back of your throat. as you gag around him, tears already slipping past your eyes from how big he was.
nanami groan one last time before he shoots his seeds inside your throat. you make sure to swallow every single drop. you smirk at him cheekily but soon enough it was turned into a gasp as nanami bend you over the desk. rolling up your skirt and slapping your plumpy ass hard.
you whine, nanami hard rough hands, and it stings so bad with each slap but you couldn't help the way wetness starting gushing out of you causing nanami to tsk.
"tsk you like that you fucking slut yea?" he harshly breath out next to your ear before slapping your ass two times in a row. you were sobbing at this point, wanting nothing more than for it to stop and not stop at the same time. nanami kneels down next to your ass before he dives in.
you immediately moan out, pushing your ass into him, his tongue was restless as it moves from your ass to your clit, licking every inch of you, not stopping till you're squirting on his face.
was it enough or one more wouldn't hurt right?
muscles covered every inch of him, a sexy scar on the left side of his mouth, black suit on. a bodyguard like him? toji fushiguro.
the black tinted car was shaking, creaking, toji didn't have any mercy on your poor little pussy. holding your perky ass cheeks between his large hands, as he slams you up and down his fat cock. not caring that your screams were loud enough to be heard by the entire neighbor.
your pussy was clenching hard around his cock, enveloping him each time he shoves his fat cock in. your wetness coated his dick, dripping down his balls. your screams were loud, even after he shoved a gag ball inside your mouth, your drool was coating it, you looked so fucked out of it.
"good girl, good fucking girl" toji darkly speak out as stare at the way your wetness is spurting all over his cock, hitting the leather car seat. your breath hitch as you see someone moving outside the car, leaning against the window as they smoke their cigarette.
but that doesn't stop toji from slamming your tits into the tinted windows, directly where the guy was leaning. his large hand muffling your moans. as his cock thrust inside of you.
the feeling of your hard, sensitive nipples brushing against the cold window- the same window the guy was leaning on, having no clue of what's happening inside of the car. having no clue that you were being fucked.
it all seems to overwhelm you as your hips shudder and arch, squirting directly on the window. "yes! give it to me, give it to me!". toji whispers harshly in your ear. dragging your orgasm by pinching your clit between his fingers.
toji eyes roll back his skull as he feels the way your wetness was filling his car, from his car seats to his window, to the way it drenched his pants. he slam you against him one last time before locking you in. cumming inside of your abused little pussy, gently shushing you as you whine from how sensitive you were.
was it enough yet? having secret affairs with the three of them. or maybe you were greedy enough to want three of their cocks at the same time.
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cheonstapes · 6 months
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
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a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.
wc; 700+
pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin
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miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company. 
“babe, grab my headband for me please?” 
walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.
he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.
he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.
this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.
he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder. 
the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him. 
he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.
“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”
i mean shit, back to sleep we go! 
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-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL
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jaegerbby · 7 months
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➳ satoru gojo x female! reader
╰┈➤ word count; 547
╰┈➤ drabble; virginity loss (mentions of blood), unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, cervix fucking, bruising.
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satoru is angry.
he is mad.
his usually relaxed features are muddled with irritation.
the arch of his brows are pulled as they knit together, his eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched so hard it pulses.
you deserve better than this, you know that right?
you deserve better than being pressed face first into the sheets and having your virginity stripped like some nasty whore.
you should be screaming and crying. you should be telling him to stop but it seems you want more instead.
he is going so hard and fast, your ass burns with the impact. he is plunging and pulling apart your walls with every thrust.
why is your back arched so perfectly? where did you even learn to do that?
satoru is infuriated.
he kissed you once and you were absolutely terrible at it.
your fingers tangle in the sheets, drool drips from your mouth and soaks the sheets.
your cunt soaks him the same way.
his eyes focus on the way your body jerks with the weight of his thrusts and the way you sound.
satoru is losing his mind and every bit of his self control. you mewl and moan and cry. you do it all so sweetly. you sound so melodic like your pussy is not being ripped apart.
like satoru is not moulding your tight gooey insides to the shape of his cock and making it his.
your cunt is a mess, it is so messy satoru can smell it as much as he can feel it. there is slick dripping from your hole in sticky strands.
it splatters with every rough slam into you. he does not know why he took you like this, why he stripped you bare and pounded into you like a ravaging animal.
he saw red. all you did was be concerned for him, all you did was care. you flashed him that pretty smile and this is how satoru repays you.
he sees red right now, red in streaks along his length, red mixing with frothy liquid around his base. red on your skin where he has gripped too hard. satoru wants to cum so deep inside that you will not be able to get it all out.
you tempted him, it is hard to think otherwise when you are moaning this much.
his large palms grip your hips, he fucks into you sloppily before he presses flush into your body and he is shooting cum into your womb.
where his cockhead pulls your cervix apart and creams.
your body trembles beneath him, your tongue hanging out of your mouth and your eyes rolling.
there is no way you were a virgin before this. how could you be when you were taking it this well?
he can hardly believe it but the blood on his cock only proves that you are his.
you say something like it is too much and satoru wants to stuff you full all over again.
he pulls out and your insides clamp down, creamy fluid leaks out of your hole. he burns the sight into his mind.
satoru grits his teeth, your virgin pussy was tainted so easily, in such an uncaring and distasteful manner. satoru cannot stop himself now.
at least you were his. permanently.
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definitely working on chpt 3 of company ! uni has me busy
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captainfern · 11 months
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Breed
Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Breed” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
• summary – you and price meet up off base. you fuck lol. • rating – 18+ [mdni] • wordcount – 4.6k • warnings – fem!reader, praise kink, breeding kink [i'm being so fr it's in bold], unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], price is a whore for you <3, strong language
(let me know if i missed any warnings! ok hope you like <3)
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
You had been off base for all of four hours.
It was supposed to be a weekend away from your colleagues and the cutthroat environment of a military job. You planned on enjoying a peaceful couple of days with the company of excessive amounts of alcohol, a spa, and that one situationship you had been dealing with for the past year.
So now, before your holiday even begun, you were already regretting even leaving.
You sat in a quaint little bar: complete with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a 1920’s speakeasy. The light was dim, settling the room in a golden ambiance, as people conversed with each other, nursing crystal tumblers of dark liquor or caressing the thin neck of martini glasses.
You reclined into the plush leather sofa beneath you, a glass of— as the familiar bartender described it— your usual in your hand. You swirled it around your glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides as your “situationship” rambled on about something (you had stopped paying attention five minutes ago).
“I mean, he drove to work in a Porsche and I drove a Jaguar,” Max downed the rest of his beer. “I think we both know who has the superior taste in cars, don’t we?”
“Mhm…” you hummed, taking a sip of your drink.
Max had never been the most interesting person— hell, he was actually really fucking annoying. His only redeeming quality was that you could fuck him and not feel guilty about leaving the next morning. Convenience, really.
Max peered at you over the rim of his pint glass, cocking his head to the side as he placed it back onto the table. “Something on you mind?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried.
You looked up at him, slightly startled. “Oh, no, sorry. It’s just been a long day—”
“Okay, great, now can I finish my story?”
You blinked at him as he continued, rambling on with no real punchline to his story— he was just trying to make himself seem richer. At this point, you were cringing. Embarrassing.
After a while of putting up with… whatever the hell Max was even talking about, you excused yourself. You popped to the bathroom, drawing out the process of washing your hands by a good five minutes, before reluctantly exiting the bathroom.
You collided with a wall.
Well, it wasn’t a wall. The wall was a man.
The body you crashed into immediately steadied you: two strong arms wrapping around your upper body, pressing you gently to a taut abdomen. You gasped out as the wall, smelling strongly of bergamot orange and whiskey, settled your firmly on your feet and held you within arms reach. Large hands gripped your shoulders, completely enveloping them.
You screwed your eyes shut, waiting for a drunken insult of some kind. “Shit, I am so sorry—!”
“Sergeant?”
You looked up, locking eyes with your captain. Captain John Price, the man responsable for leading your taskforce.
“Captain? I… I am so sorry.” You rambled, taking a step out of his reach and fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt. “I wasn’t looking where I was going—”
He laughed, deep and melodic. “S’all right, love. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, none of that crap,” he smiled, nudging you softly. “John’s fine. Or Price, if you really prefer it.”
You nodded, hiding a small smile. “Alright, Price.”
Price looked you up and down, taking in your attire and the way you had dolled yourself up. He let a small smile fall onto his lips as he leaned back against the standing-table he was situated at, elbow across it.
“Who’s got you dressed all nice, love?”
You rolled your eyes. “I was meant to be on a date, but it isn’t going well at all.”
His smile faded. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing major,” you said with a shrug. “Just an old… friend. He loves to talk about himself, and he hasn’t asked about what I’ve been up to since I got here.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Two hours.”
Price let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Sounds like a right arsehole, that one. Why don’t you just head on home?”
“I’d feel guilty—”
“You kill people for a living, sergeant,” Price quipped, grabbing his whiskey tumbler and raising it to his lips. “I doubt you’d feel guilty about leaving this tosser.”
You watched him take a sip of his drink, licking the liquor off his lips as he placed the tumbler back down. You sighed, realising that he was probably right, before squaring your shoulders and setting a determined look on your face. Price laughed at your expression.
“I’ll tell him I’m leaving.” You said.
Price chuckled, giving you a wink. “You go do that, love.”
You left Price and crossed the bar, to where Max was sitting on the couch, smiling at his phone. He was typing fast, and didn’t even look up when you cleared your throat to get his attention, now standing just a few feet from him.
“I’m leaving,” you said simply. “Thanks for… the company, I guess.”
Max looked up, shutting his phone off and shoving it into his pocket as he got to his feet. “Are we not gonna fuck?”
The words leaving his mouth sounded horrid, and you withheld a grimace at his desperate tone. You shook your head, “No, we’re not.”
He scoffed. “So this has been a complete waste of time, then?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded as he shoved past you and vanished out the door. He left you with the bill and, not only that, but he was your ride— and you heard the unmistakable sound of his Jaguar revving it’s engine and tearing off down the street.
You blinked, dumbfounded, at the door, trying not to let the stinging of embarrassed tears fall from behind your eyes. With a frustrated sigh, you were about to head to the bar and pay when Price stopped you, walking into your path.
“Come on, love. I’ll take you home.”
You shook your head adamantly. “Price, no, I’ve gotta pay—”
“I’ll put it on my tab,” he said simply. “Now, come on. I’ll take you home since that fuckwit wants to leave a lady stranded here.”
He ushered you gently out the door, a large, warm hand on your lower back. He didn’t let you protest: he just simply guided you out into the chilly night air. His body heat was warm against your back as he led you towards his car. His smell was intoxicating. You had the sudden urge to just whirl around and rub yourself all over him, collecting his scent like a cat.
Um, what the fuck— suddenly crossed your mind.
When you both reached his car, he opened the passenger door for you and allowed you to slide into the seat, before closing it and moving to the other side, clambering into the driver seat and slotting the key into the ignition, the car rumbling to life.
Once out onto the main road, he cast you a quick glance, both hands on the wheel, running his thumbs along the seam of the wheel’s curve. “We’re you staying?”
You gave him your address, and he raised a brow. “A penthouse suite, eh? We are clearly not being paid the same.”
You laughed, warm in his car. You smelt that same scent of bergamot citrus and whiskey floating through the car. It was tainted with cigar smoke and mint. You wanted to get the smell tattooed into your fucking brain.
The drive to your flat was comfortable. You talked with Price as though he was an old friend and not your boss. He seemed to enjoy your company, too: sparing subtly glances in your direction whenever you laughed, or whenever you got particularly excited when telling him a story. His eyes twinkled.
A few minutes later, Price had pulled up outside your building, killing the engine and hopping out of the car. You went to protest, but he moved and opened your door, beckoning you outside with a small wave of his hand.
“I’ll be walking you to your door, sergeant,” Price said, almost sternly. “I’m a man of my word. I said I’d take you home, so I will.”
Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you allowed him to gently lead you across the foyer and into the lift. You hit your floor level and as the doors closed, you suddenly became aware of how close you and Price were to one another. You could feel his body heat. You could feel the gentle brush of his chest against your back every time he breathed.
Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you suddenly felt hot. Like, underwear getting wet kinda hot. In the corner of the lift, you shifted your legs, pressing your thighs together as the lift travelled upwards.
No way you’re horny right now, you thought as the lift doors opened.
You were quick to depart, hurrying down the hall and reaching your door in record speed, fumbling to get the keys out of your purse. You felt Price sidle up behind you. When you finally got the door open, you pushed it and stepped into the doorway, flicking the light on before turning and looking up at Price.
“Thank you so much for bringing me home,” you said sincerely. “And I am genuinely sorry if I ruined your night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You didn’t ruin my night. I’m always here if you need me, love.”
You bit your lip. The way he said that was way to hot for the way you were feeling right now. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck, and it seemed that Price took notice.
He cocked his head to the side, appraising you. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, reaching a hand out and placing it heavily on your arm. It was a solid form that was warm and strong and you had a sudden urge to just bite it.
What the fuck.
“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You said. Liar.
Price raised a brow, looking at the way you squirmed under his gaze. Now, he wasn’t stupid by any means— he could read your body language like a book and it made a triumphant smile flicker across his face.
He shifted the hand on your arm and dragged it to your chin, gripping it carefully and lifting it, forcing you to look up at him.
“What do you want, love?”
You blinked at him.
He tutted. “Don’t get shy on me now, sergeant. Tell me what you want. What’s getting you all worked up, huh?” He stroked your jaw, your cheek, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like the way I talk to you? You like when I call you love?”
You let out a quiet whimper, nodding. He smiled down at you, leaning in as though he was about to kiss you. But he stopped, mint and whiskey laced breath fanning across your face.
“Use your words when you speak to your captain.”
You swallowed. “Yes.”
“Yes…?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hummed, pleased. “That’s a good girl.” And then pressed his mouth to yours. It was possessive— his tongue breached past your lips, plunging desperately into your mouth as you tried to keep up. You wound your arms around his broad shoulders, sliding fingers into his hair and gripping the strands. He groaned into your mouth, pushing you further into your flat without breaking the kiss.
He slammed the door shut and locked it blindly, opting to move you around and slam your body up against it. He cupped your jaw with one hand, shifting his other to run down your side, brushing over your hip and settling on your upper thigh. He squeezed it as he slid one leg between yours, jutting his knee upwards and pressing it against your clothed core.
You let out a strangled whimper, choking on the possessive nature of the kiss as Price pressed your body against his knee, using the hand at your hip to help you move against it. You stuttered on a moan, breaking the kiss to take some short breaths, the pressure on your core alleviating the building sensations.
“This what you want?” Price grinned against your jawline, placing kisses there. “You want me to make you feel good, love?”
You nodded desperately, moaning out a pathetic “yes, sir,” before he was whirling you around and guiding you deeper into your flat. He eventually found your bedroom, and pushed you onto the bed. Your back hit the silken sheets, and he wasted no time in following you; pressing his body to yours and immediately reattaching his mouth to yours hungrily.
As the two of you kissed, he gently began to pry your clothes from your body. He slipped your shirt off, making quick work in popping off your bra. He moved down, planting kisses along your chest and across the swell of your breasts. He then drew his tongue, hot, over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You moaned loudly, huskily, gripping at his hair as he sucked. He moved to your left one, and repeated the process until you were a whimpering, needy mess beneath him.
After a moment, he leaned back and admired the hickeys he had created over your soft skin, running calloused fingers over them.
“This okay, love?”
You nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers around his belt. “Yes, sir.” You whined, finally managing to undo the buckle on his belt.
But he stopped you, gently pushing your hands above your head before he dipped down and kissed you again. The way he licked into your mouth made you squirm, fingers flexing beneath his strong grip. He released your arms, running his hands along the bare skin and all the way past your shoulders, over your breasts and along your sides.
His eyes never left yours as he popped the button on your pants, pulling them down your legs and throwing them across the room. When the cool air of your room hit, you realised just how wet you were— favourite pair of underwear, soaked through. Your face lit up in embarrassment as you felt Price’s eyes drift down your body.
“S’all for me?” Price uttered, finger skimming the edge of your underwear. He hooked his finger beneath it and let it go with a snap against the plush fat of your thigh.
You felt hot all over when you mumbled out a “yeah.”
“Yeah?” He pulled your underwear down your legs, dragging his hands heavily along your skin alongside it. Like your pants, he flicked your underwear across the room. Then, his hands were on your thighs and in the blink of an eye, you were flipped over.
Price lay on his back, arms wrapped around your thighs. You straddled his chest, hands resting on his pecs. Your fingers brushed through his chest hair as he looked up at you, an expectant look on his face. Your stomach flipped.
“Price…” You whined.
“Sit on my face, love.”
You hesitantly shook your head. “I don’t want to hurt—”
“Come on, darling,” Price drawled, tugging you forward. “You won’t hurt me.”
You let out a stuttered sigh as your thighs rested either side of his head, and you slowly sank your aching cunt down onto his face. You huffed out a load moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit, his tongue drawing animalistic sounds from your mouth.
“Price—!”
“That’s a good girl,” Price uttered against your core. “Ride my face, love. Take what you need.” He had an iron grip on your thighs, helping you rock yourself against his mouth. “Such a pretty, wet cunt. Tastes so fucking good.”
You moaned at his words. Your captain speaking to you like that with his face drowning in your cunt. What the fuck—
“P-Price…” You breathed. “Gonna… gonna come.”
He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times.
You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Price—”
“I know, darling, I know,” he said. “Come for me. Come in my mouth like a good girl, yeah?”
“Yeah, fuck, Price—!” You came with a moan of his name, gushing into his mouth as your hips stuttered against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.
After a long moment, Price re-surfaced— shifting you carefully onto your back and hovering over you. You smiled hazily at him, seeing his beard slick with you, shiny. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you, sergeant?” He said into your mouth.
You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his facial hair, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers.
When Price pulled back, his lips were flushed and his dark eyes glassy. His eyes scanned your face.
“Price?” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” He grumbled, deep and low from his chest. “Gonna let me fill this pretty cunt?”
Your eyes widened momentarily as he shifted his gaze down your body. You arched off the bed when his hands went back to travelling down your sides. He sat back on his heels, spreading your legs as wide as they could go, warm hands on your inner thighs.
He stared at your dripping core, and you watched him harden even more in his pants.
“Such a pretty cunt, eh, darling?” Price ran two fingers along your folds, collecting a shiny mix of your arousal and his saliva. He brought his fingers to your mouth and shoved them roughly passed your lips. “Tastes fucking heavenly, too.”
You choked on his fingers, moaning. Wrapping your tongue around them, you noticed his pupils dilate even more as he watched you.
“Jesus…” He pulled his fingers out, then began tracing them along your core again. He watched his fingertips slip between your folds, and then watched the way you writhed in anticipation each time his fingers skimmed your aching hole.
“Fuck, just— Price, please—” You warbled, body hot. You could feel your arousal leaking out of you, pooling below your arse on the bedsheets.
Price laughed lowly, before sinking two fingers into your desperate cunt, right up to the knuckle. You keened, a high-pitched moan filtering between your lips at the intrusion. His digits were thick, dragging against your gummy walls, stretching you open with obscene squelching noises.
He cooed at you as he added a third finger. “Take it, darling. Such a good girl taking all three, aren’t you? This pretty cunt’s so good for me. Just for me.”
You moaned and wiggled against the bed as he pumped three fingers inside you. You felt full, satiated. Your slick was dripping down his hand, his wrist and sliding into the hairs along his forearms.
“Making such a mess, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet…” Price drawled as you fluttered around his fingers, hips bucking.
“Price, sir, need you to fuck me.”
He didn’t relent the movements of his fingers, and you felt your second orgasm building strongly within you. He tutted, clucking his tongue as he thrusted his fingers into you. “Want you to come on my fingers first. You can do that, can’t you, love? Come all over my fingers before you can come on my cock.”
You whined, forcing yourself to nod and nod and nod as your orgasm towered over you, looming like a shadow. “F-fuck, m’gonna—”
The words died on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through you, a blinding pressure released from your abdomen. A wet gush of arousal flooded beneath you, and you felt it. As you shook, legs trembling, chest heaving, you heard Price chuckling to himself as he retracted his dripping fingers.
“Such a messy girl,” he mused. “Look what you’ve done.”
You used your remaining strength to look down at where he was— his shirt splattered with your arousal, wet dripping onto his lap. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Price prevented you from shying away. He dragged himself up your body and placed kisses as he went— ending his exploration by settling a deep kiss to your mouth.
“You gonna let me fuck you now? You deserve it, don’t you? Been such a good girl for me, letting me eat that pretty cunt.”
Such lewd words coming from your captain’s mouth— a man of such impressive status and honourability— was slightly disconcerting. However, you couldn’t find into yourself to care, nor think about the HR nightmare the two of you were in the midst of causing.
All you were focussing on was ripping open your tear-lined eyes and watching as the captain— your captain— shed himself of his dress shirt and then his pants. When he pulled down his boxers, you literally tossed your head back and moaned, much to the amusement of Price— who chuckled lowly at you, gripping his cock at the base.
“Want it that bad, darling?” He mused, leaning forward to run the head of his cock up and down your glistening folds.
“Yes, fuck—!”
“Ask nicely,” Price placed a couple of soft kisses along the underside of your jaw. “Good girl’s ask nicely, don’t they?”
You whined out some pathetic excuse for a please, lifting your arms to thread your fingers into his hair as he hovered over you. His body was heavy against you: the weight of his cock firm against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
Price lined himself up with your dripping cunt, slowly pushing in. He released a low groan from the depths of his chest as his cock slid into your tight heat, your cunt fluttering around him. You joined him, breathing out panting moans as he sunk deeper and deeper.
With one final push, Price’s cockhead was nestled up against the plug of your womb, pulsing within you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.
“You feel… Jesus Christ— you feel so good, love. So tight around me,” his voice had a whiny undertone. “Can I move, darling?”
You nodded, full. It’s like you could feel him in your chest.
With a deep grunt, Price dragged his cock all the way out until the wet tip of him rested at your entrance— before he pushed back in roughly. You jolted, moaning as he set a pace that you hadn’t at all been expecting. You felt the need to be stabilised, your hands groping across his shoulders, down his back, along his arms. Your hands travelled down his torso, feeling the rigid planes of muscle and wiry hair.
Price panted in your ear. “Such a— fuck— such a good girl. Being such a good girl for your captain, darling. Making me— hngh— making me so proud.”
Your stomach and cunt fluttered simultaneously at the praise, eliciting a moan from both you and Price. He was truly fucking you into your bed: the mattress creaking along with the bed frame; the cushioned headboard knocking gently against the wall. Somewhere across your apartment, your radio was playing— you’d left it on before you left for the evening— and Breed by Nirvana was playing. Fitting for the occasion, considering—
“Fuck, gonna come in this tight fucking cunt,” Price groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna stuff you full ‘o me.”
You writhed beneath him, back arching off the bed and aching nipples brushing against his chest. You were getting close, judging by the way that familial coil was tightening in the depths of your belly. Tighter and tighter as he fucked his fat cock harder and harder into you, deeper and deeper against your cervix.
A thin sheen of sweat lay across your skin, glowing. Price didn’t care, clearly, as he peppered kisses across your chest, sucking bites onto the base of your neck as he rutted into you, hips slamming against yours. You felt one of his large, warm hands slide from your waist and across your pelvis, settling a finger on your sensitive clit.
You whined, and he shushed your gently. “Take it, darling, take it. I know you can… come on.”
Price rubbed tight circles against the bundle of nerves as he fucked you, hitting that same spot within you that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids and whimpering his name repeatedly.
It only took a couple of seconds for you to reach your peak.
“Price, m’gonna come,” you gasped, trembling and snapping your eyes open. “Please, sir—!”
He groaned, gruff and pleasure-strained. “That’s a good girl, darling. ‘Course you can come. Come all over my fucking cock and show me how much of a good girl you are for your captain.”
Yeah, that was it.
You came, for lack of better words, violently. You legs shook, knees trembling as you arched your back off the mattress. Your body pressed tight to Price’s, his cock angling deeper as he fucked you through your post-orgasmic haze. Your breaths came in pants, face flushed and clit throbbing.
Price meanwhile was nearing his peak as well. He was fucking you into your silken sheets like a scene out of some kind of porno— large hands gripping at your waist, your thighs; eyes travelling hungrily down your body to where his cock repeatedly entered your tight hole. His cock was completely slick with you, his pelvis and lower stomach splashed and glimmering with your arousal.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” Price groaned, eyelids fluttering for a moment. “Come so deep in this cunt you’ll feel me for weeks— ruin you for any other man, eh, love? That fuckwit from the bar has nothing on me.”
You didn’t even have the energy to moan like you really fucking wanted too. Everything he was saying was going straight to your aching cunt, and it was probably sending you to an early ovulation. You felt like you craved him.
Price suddenly grabbed your hand, bringing it downwards to where his cock slammed into you. He pushed your fingers around your hole so that you could feel where his fat cock entered you over and over again. You moaned at the feeling, just as Price knocked your hand aside and folded you in half— pressing your legs up against your chest. A mating press.
He was huffing now, drawing near his climax as another one built within you.
“One more time for me, love.” He said and Jesus Christ you didn’t need to be told again.
Another orgasm overtook you before you knew it was there: drowning you and leaving you gasping as you gushed around him, hands gripping the back of his neck for support. You sighed out his name, airy and exhausted, as his thrusts began to lose rhythm.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he uttered. “So good for me. Now ‘m gonna fill this cunt so good— shit— fucking breed you nice and full. Might take, eh, love? You’d love that wouldn’t you? Love being all nice and fat with my kid, and I’d fuck you whenever you wanted— hngh, Jesus— give this needy cunt my cock whenever you wanted.”
These words were coming out of your captain’s mouth… Soap is never going to believe you.
Price let out a low, almost whimper of a sound as he thrusted sloppily a couple more times. “Take it, darling, fuck. Take my come. Fucking take it like my good girl. So proud of you.”
He came with a shudder and a deep groan: warmth flooding your insides and splashing deep into your cervix— helpful thanks to the fact you could feel him in your guts.
The both of you breathed heavily in tandem until his cock softened inside you and he pulled out carefully. His come oozed out of your hole, and he shoved it back inside with two fingers.
Price cleared his throat. “I’m gonna have to do a lot of paperwork to get us out of whatever mess we’ve just put ourselves in.”
You sighed. “Let’s not talk about work when you’re knuckle deep in my pussy.”
Price stopped talking, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips.
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discworldwitches · 4 months
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[id: screenshot of a tiktok of a woman with the text: while you’re struggling to pay your rent this month I just want you to remember that israel gets subsidized housing, subsidized groceries, free healthcare, updated infrastructure because the USA and Germany has given them multi billion dollars in citizen tax money.]
this is a dangerous narrative. the “im struggling to pay my rent because of my taxes and my taxes go to subsidize cushy lives in israel” is dangerous and a short logical leap from “jews are stealing our hard earned money. the working class and poor are oppressed by jews.”
and that’s not how the money works, much of it goes towards the military and “aid packages” represent value not liquid cash (so weapons sent are represented in $$$ form.) and the state operates the way above bc ben gurion & co were socialists. plus, as far as i know, things are relatively similar to the uk with high costs of living but subsidized housing, public healthcare etc.
money from germany often does not go whatsoever into the pockets of israeli holocaust survivours (which is what it’s desiginated for as holocaust reparations (and bc companies that significantly contribute to the german GDP collaborated with nazis/used the labour of enslaved jews) ) (NOTE: it's military aid; money to compensate holocaust victims and survivors ended in 2018, which as i mentioned, did not go into individuals pockets) let alone israelis who are not survivours. many holocaust survivours living there live in poverty. there are literally videos of some picking through refuse produce.
it’s deeply heinous that palestinian american & palestinian german taxes go in part towards the weapons used to genocide palestinians including their own families. OP's post is not about that. she is not acknowledging that or really any connection between the USA and the occupation forces. instead OP is making it sound like israelis live comfortable lives with little expenditures off of the backs of american workers which is a few steps away from protocols shit at best. the idea that jews are enslaving or profitting off on those who are not jewish, especially the working class & poor, is textbook antisemitic conspiracy.
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yuutx · 8 days
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)
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coworker! scaramouche x f!reader ノ sfw content. ノ sfw + confession ノ modern au ノ coworker au ノ friends -> lovers ノ pure fluffy content ノ not proofread ! ꒰ᐢ˵´ ˆ `˵ᐢ꒱
i havent written something fluffy in soo longg . . i missed writing pure, soft fics . . art credits go to @/yakumon_ on tiktok ! ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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The night was still young, the hour only barely creeping into the early hours of the morning, and yet Scaramouche found himself already exhausted. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a headache starting to throb at his temples. The day had been long, his work seemingly endless, and his energy was dissipating. He had a mountain of paperwork waiting for him, a stack of forms and contracts and proposals sitting on his desk, untouched, the documents left abandoned for weeks. The pile was nearly toppling over, the edges curling up, and he frowned, a look of distaste flickering across his features. His gaze shifted towards the window, the view overlooking the cityscape. The lights from the buildings stretched up into the sky, the city aglow, the sight captivating. His frown softened, the irritation draining from his expression, the anger melting away. His gaze swept across the horizon, taking in the sight. There was a sense of awe, a sense of wonder, a sense of pride, the view reminding him just how far he had come, how far he had risen. He was on top of the world, the world at his fingertips, and he had done it all himself. His accomplishments had been hard won, the climb to the top a steep one, the path to success a difficult one. But his efforts had paid off, and he was rewarded with a lavish lifestyle, a comfortable existence. Yet, there was one thing missing. Someone special.
He didn't know when it had started, didn't know exactly when his feelings had changed. At some point, she had gone from a nuisance, an annoyance, a thorn in his side, to something.. more. Her presence was no longer an unwelcome one, the sound of her voice no longer grating, the sight of her no longer irritating. If anything, her company was welcome, her voice a soothing one, her smile brightening his mood. It was a gradual shift, his perception of her changing. One day, he found himself looking forward to seeing her, and the next, he realized that he couldn't picture his life without her. She had become a staple in his life, a fixture in his routine, a constant, someone he could always depend on. It was an odd feeling, an unfamiliar one, but he found that he didn't mind it. He liked her, he really did. It had been a long time since he had cared about someone, a long time since he had trusted anyone, a long time since he had let anyone close. But he had fallen for her, became entangled in her, and now, he found himself in a dilemma. He knew what he wanted, he knew how he felt, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It was frustrating, the feelings swirling around inside him, the emotions clouding his judgment, and the confusion was driving him crazy.
"Why is it so fucking complicated?" he muttered, the words spilling out.
He let out a huff, shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. He turned away from the window, the view no longer a comfort. He couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate, his thoughts always seemed to drift towards her. She was all he could think about, and he scowled, the feeling of helplessness irritating him.
"Fuck it.. I need a drink.." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.
He stalked towards the kitchen, his strides quick and purposeful, his footsteps echoing through the penthouse. He entered the room, his gaze sweeping over the contents. There was an array of alcohol, the cabinets and shelves well stocked. His eyes fell upon the wine rack, the bottles arranged by color and vintage, and he plucked a bottle from the rack. It was a red, the dark liquid swirling around the inside of the glass. He uncorked the bottle, pouring himself a generous amount, before setting the glass down onto the counter. He raised the glass to his lips, the aroma hitting him first. It was a deep, earthy smell, the scent rich and fragrant. The taste was full bodied, the flavor heavy, the liquid rolling over his tongue. It was smooth, the alcohol burning pleasantly as it slid down his throat, the sensation warm and comforting. He took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the flavor linger on his tongue. He closed his eyes, allowing the wine to soothe his nerves, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. He leaned against the counter, his mind wandering.
"Y/N.." he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue. "Mm.. I wonder what she's doing right now.."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a soft look appearing in his eyes.
"I wish she was here.. I wish.." He trailed off, catching himself. "What the fuck am I doing?.." he muttered, shaking his head. "Get a hold of yourself.."
He took another sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.
"..But I want her.." he admitted, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, his breath hitching, his chest tightening.
"I.. I want her..?.."
He had never said it aloud, never voiced his thoughts, his feelings, but the words were out there now, hanging in the air, and they rang true. He wanted her, more than anything. He wanted her so badly, the urge almost overwhelming, and the need for her burned in his chest, the ache making him dizzy. He couldn't deny it any longer, couldn't fight it, couldn't resist. He was falling, falling fast, and he knew there was no turning back. Not now. His feelings were written all over his face, his emotions clear, and he couldn't hide it anymore. He had to tell her, had to confess, and the thought of rejection terrified him. But the thought of never knowing what could've been was even more terrifying, and he knew he had to do something. He had to risk it all. For her.
With a sigh, he drained the glass, his fingers tightening around the stem, the crystal creaking under the pressure. He placed the glass down, the sound echoing through the room, before striding towards the door. His feet carried him through the hallway, his steps hurried, his mind racing. His heart was pounding, his pulse quickening, his palms growing clammy. His nerves were getting the better of him, his anxiety spiking, the prospect of facing her nerve-wracking. He stopped in front of the door, the wood smooth under his fingertips, the handle cold. He could feel his stomach twisting into knots, the butterflies fluttering in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, before opening the door and leaving the penthouse.
After some time, he reached her apartment, the number engraved on the brass plate, and he hesitated, his hand hovering over the bell. The seconds ticked by, the seconds feeling like hours, the moments stretching into an eternity, and his apprehension grew, his fear building. But, his need for her was stronger, his desire for her outweighing his doubt, and he took a deep breath, ringing the doorbell. There was a moment of silence, a moment of stillness, and then, the door swung open.
You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, a look of surprise on your face. Your hair was slightly disheveled, your cheeks flushed, your clothes rumpled. You must've been sleeping, he thought. You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing, before letting out a nervous laugh. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness of the situation making him fidget, before speaking.
"Um, hey.." he started, his voice low, his tone hesitant. "Listen, I uh.. I needed to see you."
You cocked your head, your brow furrowing, confusion washing over your features. He continued, the words tumbling out. "I know it's late, and I know it's probably weird, but I had to tell you.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. I-I like you. Like, really like you. And.. I just needed to get that off my chest."
His words hung in the air, the silence thick, the tension palpable. Your expression was unreadable, the emotions flickering across your face indecipherable. You were frozen, rooted to the spot, your body stiff, the shock making your limbs heavy. He looked down, his gaze dropping, before muttering, "Shit, I shouldn't have said that.." His face burned, the humiliation setting in, and he turned away, starting to walk off, his hands clenched into fists. But, before he could go, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He glanced back, your grip firm, your expression serious.
"Stay." You whispered, your voice soft. He looked at you, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes searching your face. "Stay.." You repeated, the words barely a whisper, and he nodded, his hand sliding into yours.
"Okay." He replied, his tone matching yours.
With that, you led him into the apartment, the door closing behind you. The room was dim, the lights off, the curtains drawn. You made your way through the living room, his hand still in yours, the floorboards creaking underfoot. You stopped in front of the sofa, your fingers intertwining with his, and you sat down, the cushions sinking beneath your weight. The silence was heavy, the quietness suffocating, the tension rising. You stared at him, your gaze intent, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Scara..?" you murmured, breaking the silence. "Tell me.."
He looked at you, his brow furrowed, his expression thoughtful.
"What do you mean?" He asked, his tone confused.
"Tell me.." you repeated, your eyes meeting his. ".. tell me how you feel."
He let out a breath, the sound shaky, his nerves getting the better of him. "I.. I don't know.." he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how to put it into words."
"Then, show me.." you breathed, leaning in, your face mere inches from his.
He froze, his body stiffening, his mind racing. His thoughts were jumbled, the feelings overwhelming, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.
"I.." he started, his words faltering. "Oh, god.." Scaramouche muttered, the frustration building. "I can't, I can't." He shook his head, the movement jerky, his hands balling into fists. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.. I've been trying to hold back for weeks, months, and now.." he trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor, the shame written all over his face. "..And now, I'm ruining it, aren't I? I'm ruining our friendship, I'm fucking it all up, just like I always do.." he muttered, his words laced with self-loathing.
You stared at him, his outburst surprising you, the sudden change in his demeanor jarring. You reached out, your palm cupping his cheek, his skin warm beneath your touch. You could feel him trembling, his muscles tense, his body rigid. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, the guilt in his expression making your heart ache.
"Hey.." you murmured, your voice soft. "Hey, it's okay.." You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone, the contact soothing. "You're not ruining anything."
He took a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping, the tension easing. "Y/N.." he said, his tone pained. "I can't keep pretending, I can't keep lying to myself. I-I want you, more than anything." His hand covered yours, his grip firm, his fingers lacing with yours. "I know this is probably a lot, and I know it's selfish of me, but.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. but, I want you. And, I think you feel the same." He searched your face, his gaze searching yours. ".. Tell me, tell me if I'm wrong." He implored, his voice laced with desperation. "Please."
Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice taking you by surprise. You stared at him. You had never seen him like this, his emotions laid bare, his vulnerability on full display. He was raw, vulnerable, his armor stripped away. And, it was beautiful. You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs, before exhaling, the sound shaky. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The feelings were mutual, the attraction obvious, the chemistry electric. But, the implications were daunting. You were friends, coworkers, and a relationship between you was risky, the repercussions potentially devastating. But, you knew you had to take the chance. The opportunity was too good, the timing too perfect, the feeling too right. So, with a nod, you leaned in, your lips crashing against his. The kiss was rough, the contact desperate, the need for each other all-consuming. His arms wrapped around you, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, the passion igniting, the fire burning. The moment was charged, the feelings intense, the emotions overpowering. It was everything, and more. It was perfect. After what seemed like an eternity, the kiss broke, the two of you breathless, your foreheads touching.
A tear fell from his eye. He was crying. You kissed his tears, and he let out a shaky breath, the sound filled with emotion. "You.." he started, his voice cracking. "You feel the same.." he murmured, his eyes widening, the realization setting in. "I-I don't know what to say.." You chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes, before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "You don't have to say anything.." you whispered, your smile warm. He smiled back, the sight making your heart skip a beat, and he pulled you into a hug, his arms encircling you. You rested your head on his shoulder, the moment tender, the closeness comforting. It felt right, the closeness, the intimacy, and you sighed, the sound content. It was the beginning of something new, something wonderful, and you knew you were in for a wild ride. But, you were ready. You had been ready. After all, what's life without a little bit of risk?
With that, you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips, the love in your heart growing stronger. And, as the night drew to a close, and the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, you drifted off, the man of your dreams by your side. And, when you awoke, the memories of the previous night would remain, the moments engraved in your heart, the feelings lingering. It was the start of something special, the beginning of a new chapter, and you were ready.
You were ready for it all.
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tddyhyck · 11 months
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14 FOR THAT SMUT PROMPT UGHHH, i need it 🫶🏽
threes company [ l.jn n.jm]
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i went very ham with this sry … also didn’t know what members so i did jeno x jaemin 🤭
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⇢ jeno x jaemin x afab!reader
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩 ⇢ “how do you feel about two at once?”
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ⇢ smut, double vaginal penetration, threesome, slight mxm, fingering, squirting, lube, multiple orgasms, filming, big schlong nomin
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ⇢ 1.7k
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“you’re taking him so well, baby,” jeno leans over you, brushing your hair from your face. your mouth is hanging open and tears are rolling down your flushed cheeks while jaemin pounds you from behind. you can barely hold yourself up as he thrusts into your pussy while his thumb is pressed against your rim making your head spin.
“she’s so fucking tight,” jaemin groans from behind you, making you clench tighter around him. jeno is in front of you, cock hard in his fist right in front of your mouth. you stuck your tongue out to take him but he just smirked down at you tapping the head against your wet muscle. you look up at him through wet eyelashes silently begging him to fuck your mouth but he wasn’t obliging.
you see jeno making motions with his eyes having a silent conversation with the boy behind you, but you don’t really care when jaemin is filling your walls up so well. until he pulls out and you sob at the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing making creamy wetness drip down your lips and onto your thighs.
jeno moves from in front of you and you feel so vulnerable and lonely all of a sudden empty and on full display. you’re about to roll over and protest to the two boys until a hand slaps your already red cheek.
“c’mere,” jeno says, while hands grip your hips raising you to your knees you can tell by the calloused roughness it’s jeno. once you're pressed into jeno’s chest, jaemin appears in front of you with tousled hair and sweat gleaming on his chest. he slides in front of you laying back on the soft bed. jeno’s hands have crept their way up to tweak your nipples.
“how do you feel about two at once,” he asks from below. you gasp in surprise not expecting that but not put off either. the thought makes you press your thighs together.
“i think she likes it,” jeno smirks against your neck, making you shiver.
“do you? want me and jeno to fill up your pussy?” you nod quickly.
“do you think you could handle it?” jeno asks, fingers dancing down to your wet heat. one arm gripping your waist to keep you in place while the other brushes over your clit.
“i can, i can take it.” you splutter as jeno’s fingers fill you up suddenly. jaemin grins at you from below, eyes flitting between your cunt and your face.
“can you?” jaemin teases hand gripping his cock beneath you. you feel the head press against your hole that jeno has three fingers buried deep into. whining you grind down against jeno’s hand making the head brush your entrance again. you reach down gripping at jeno and jaemin wrists to ground yourself at the intensity. jeno speeds up the sloppy sounds of your cunt filling the room along with your moans.
“oh my god, oh my god,” you cry, grip tightening on the two boys’ wrists. “i’m gonna. i’m cumming,” you mewl, feeling liquid squirting out of you, making you arch against jeno’s fingers. you look down in embarrassment seeing your squirt covering jaemin’s lower abdomen, but he just looks up at you with a grin dipping his fingers into the liquid and bringing them to his smirking lips.
“fucking wet pussy,” jeno says from behind, removing his fingers you don’t see him but he pumps jaemin’s cock making the younger groan before plunging it into your soaking hole. you whine still sensitive when he rubs against your warm walls. you lean your head back against jeno’s shoulder as you bounce on jaemin’s cock.
“full baby?” jeno whispers.
“not enough, need you,” you shake your head. reaching behind you pumping jeno’s length making him grunt against your shoulder. he pushes you down pressing you into jaemin’s still wet chest.
“pretty girl, take me so well. gonna take jeno well too right?” jaemin asks his fingers, gripping your ass and helping you move on him. you nod against his shoulder mewling when jeno leaves another slap on your ass.
you hear a cap open before cool liquid drips down your hole and onto your pussy making you shiver. you feel jeno’s large digits rubbing the slick liquid against your hole even onto the base of jaemin’s cock. you want to watch your cunt swallow them both so bad it makes you dizzy.
“wait,” you say, pushing off of jaemin’s chest and looking over at jeno, making both boys pause looking at you. “can you film? wanna see?”
“you’re so dirty,” jeno groans before spanking you again, making you fall into jaemin’s chest again. you hear him leaning off the mattress grabbing someone’s phone and fiddling with it.
“wanna see your little cunt filled up?” jaemin croons up at you before gripping your chin and pulling you into his lips, kissing you tenderly. he’s distracting you from the boy behind you whose fingers are dipping into you, pressing tightly against jaemin’s cock to fill your walls. you whine into jaemin’s mouth at the two fingers fucking into you alongside jaemin. he’s rocking you gently down onto his cock as jeno’s hand speeds up inside of you.
you pull away looking over your shoulder at jeno in a deep state of concentration, phone in one hand shaking slightly as his other pounds into you. you grip your ass spreading your cheeks as much as possible wanting so badly to feel his cock in you too.
“fuck,” you sob when he adds a third finger. his head shoots up looking at you from under his hair and smirks when he sees your fucked out expression. you’d never felt so full and so empty at once. wanting his cock to stretch out your pussy. you knew you would pay for it tomorrow but right now cock was the only thing on your brain.
“taking it so well, pretty. almost ready for my cock,” you moan when he slips his fourth finger in.
“feels good baby,” jaemin asks, making you nod your head and look back down at him. he’s so pretty, hair spread on the pillow messily and sweat beading on his forehead. you wondered if he liked it, feeling fingers alongside his cock.
“so good. so full. do you like it?”
“it’s so good baby, your tight little cunt feels so good around me. jeno’s practically giving me a handjob,” he says looking down at you. you want to make a smart comment about how he would like that but you don’t get a chance to answer before jeno’s fingers leave you. you can’t be sassy because the head of his lubed up cock is pressing into you making your eyes roll back.
“so fucking tight,” you hear jeno hiss, gripping your ass as he fills you up.
“oh fuck,” you groan into jaemin’s neck as jeno bottoms out. “so fucking full. shit.” you feel hands gripping your sides, hips everywhere. you feel them all over you and in you.
“please move please fuck me,” you moan, biting jaemin’s neck when jeno finally pulls out before thrusting back in softly. you hear jaemin groaning in your ear and jeno grunting behind you. they’re filling your brain, taking over all your senses, you hear them, taste them, feel them, smell them, and see them everywhere.
“so fucking tight,” jeno groans you can tell he’s holding back from fully blowing your back out.
“don’t hold back please,” you whimper as loud as you can. jeno listens, gripping your hips tighter before speeding up. you felt your cheeks growing wet again you weren’t sure if it was tears or drool, but you didn’t care either way.
“can’t believe you’d let us both fuck you. knew you were a slut,” jeno says through gritted teeth. you clench at his words making both men groan out at the tightness. “and you’re so fucking wet, soaking us both and the sheets.”
“you’re dripping baby,” jaemin adds. you can’t feel the juices that are practically pouring out of your cunt like a leaky pipe. you only feel the cocks drilling into you bringing you closer to the edge of a cliff you’d never been to before.
“fucking shit.” jaemin moans his fingers digging into your hips. you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as his cock twitches against your walls. was it even his cock or jeno’s?
“gonna cum jaem?” jeno asks over your shoulder and you feel jaemin nod. you press your lips to his neck and move your fingers that had been gripping his arm up to his nipple tickling at the skin around it before brushing over the sensitive nub. you tried to focus on him, upping his pleasure but all it did was up yours. feeling him tense beneath you had you reeling. you loved that he was enjoying it, not just you.
“so fucking good. holy shit, gonna fill you up,” he says before pressing his head back into the mattress with a groan. and that was all you needed feeling his hot cum squirting inside of you and jeno drilled into you and you were cumming. harder than you ever had legs shaking between theirs, eyes rolling, mouth hanging open a cry trying to leave your mouth before getting caught in your throat.
“shit,” you don’t know who it is at this point, walls fluttering around them, milking jaemin’s cock. you can feel the cum being fucked out of you forming a white ring around both cocks.
“fuck jeno,” jaemin groans. you know jeno is loving this both of you under him being driven into overstimulation.
“i’m close, just a little more,” jeno grunts sloppily fucking into you. you’re whimpering into jaemin’s neck gripping his shoulder when jeno finally cums, making you shake. he thrusts deeply into you as his cum fills you, mixing with jaemin’s inside of you before stopping. there’s no talking for a moment, just heavy breathing.
“fucking hell,” jeno finally says pulling out of you before lifting your hips causing jaemin to slip out of you. jeno spreads your cheeks bringing the phone between your legs watching the mixture of cum drip out of your pulsing, spent pussy.
“you did so well,” jaemin says, brushing your hair from your face. you whimper when jeno’s fingers graze your lower lips.
“dude she just came like 4 times and had two dicks in her, let her breathe,” jaemin said to the other boy.
“right sorry,” he apologizes, making you laugh before hearing the ping indicating the recording had stopped.
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© tddyhyck
2K notes · View notes
loveshotzz · 10 months
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bouncer!steve x fem!reader steve’s night.
🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵
summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.
word count: 13.6k
warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.
authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗
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The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless. 
Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.
“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.
“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.”  Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.
The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“
“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle. 
“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.
Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.
“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”
“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.
“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.
“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over. 
“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.” 
Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.
“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”
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The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.
Shit. You’re late.
No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.
Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.
You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.
Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.
The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.
An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.
God you hated when Eddie was right.
Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.
“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”
The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.
“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.
Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.
“Well as long as you’re okay-“
“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.
“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.
“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.
It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.
“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.
He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside. 
“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.
“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”
He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”
His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.
The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.
Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.
“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.
You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face. 
“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.
“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.
Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.
Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”
Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.
Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?
Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer��s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath. 
You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.
Oh yeah, you had a date.
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.
“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.
Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.
“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”
Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.
“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.
“I.D. or no entry dick head.”
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Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.
You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.
Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.
“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.
Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.
“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.
“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.
“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.
“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.
“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.
God, you already want this to be over.
The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue. 
“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.
“It was- It was a lot different from here…”
Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival. 
Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.
The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.
“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.
Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.
Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.
“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“
“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”
The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer. 
“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.
“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.” 
There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you. 
“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”
Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.
“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!” 
The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.
You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.
“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.
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The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand. 
“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him. 
“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.
She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.
“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.
“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.
“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.
“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.
The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.
He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.
“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool. 
“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.
“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.
“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.
“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.
“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.
“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.
He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath. 
“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this. 
“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.  
“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.
Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth. 
Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin. 
“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.
“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.
“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.
“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.
“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.
You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose. 
His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips. 
When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.
“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.
“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.” 
The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.
“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified. 
“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied. 
“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.
“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.
“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?” 
Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.
“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.
“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.
“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.” 
You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.
“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.
“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.
“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.
“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.
You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.
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The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil. 
You have to get rid of Devin.
He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.
“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.
Crickets.
You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.
“Devin.” 
You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.
You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.
“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.
“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“
“Devin.”
“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.
“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”
Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.
“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”
You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight. 
“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.
“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.
Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again. 
“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.  
Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.
“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”
You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance. 
God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night. 
Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.
“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.
The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.
“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again. 
“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.
“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”
It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.
“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.
“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.
“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.” 
“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.
“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”  
Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.
In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.
Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that  Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.
“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!” 
He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.
“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.
He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.
“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”
Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.
“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.
“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.
“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.
“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.” 
Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.
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Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.
“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.
“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.
The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.
“Anytime Stevie.”
His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him. 
You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you. 
He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.
“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.
“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.
“You’re the only one baby.” 
His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.
“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”
His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you. 
It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.
“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.
“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch. 
“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.
“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.
“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.
“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.
Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.
“Sit on the toilet for me.”
The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.
“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.
“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom. 
It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?
It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.
“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?” 
Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.
It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag. 
“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.
“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?” 
You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him. 
“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.
“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.
You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.
“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.
He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.
“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.” 
You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.
“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.
“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.
“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process. 
“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”
It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.
“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.
“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.
He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.
“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”
A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.
“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.
It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin. 
“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.
He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.
It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells. 
You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.
One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.
“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.
He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.
“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.
Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light. 
His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.
You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.
“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?” 
He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.
“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”
His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.
“Steeeeve, please.” 
You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you. 
“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”
The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.
You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.
“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”
Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.
“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”
The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it. 
“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”
His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 
“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.
“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.
Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees. 
Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it. 
“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.
His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.
“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?” 
There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.
“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.
“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.
“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”
Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.
“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.
His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.
“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high. 
You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again. 
His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.
“You ready for me?” 
Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.
“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.
“Please, please, please, please.” 
All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit. 
“Fuck - baby.”
He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him. 
“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch -  dangerously close to cumming already.
“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.
He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.
“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this. 
“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself. 
“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.” 
His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from. 
“Shit, Steve, right there.”  Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.
“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”
Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.
He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.
The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.
“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.
���Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break. 
The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.
“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.
The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.
“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”
His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.
“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.
“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.
You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.
“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.
“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”
“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.
“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.
“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.
“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”
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teatreeoilll · 3 months
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Hollow (Gojo Satoru X Reader) - [Part I (RED)]
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w/c - 1.3k content - fem!reader, not proofread (I'm sorry it's just soo late rn), child!reader (in this part), horrible parenting, mild swearing I guess?
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When you were four years old, Gojo Satoru, despite being only two years older, looked at you for the first time with nothing but disdain in his cold blue eyes.
As a result, enraged by this look, you furrowed your brows, pointed a finger straight at his face, and fearlessly labeled him, "Asshole."
"Where'd you learn that word?" Your mother shrieked behind you as she yanked on your ear, twisting it enough for a sharp pain to follow suit. "You will apologize to the heir of the Gojo clan." She demanded through gritted teeth. "Right now, you hear me, brat?"
So you did, with your mother pushing your head down in a deep bow before the uninterested boy, ignoring how your tears stained the walkway leading to the Gojo estate. "I'm sorry," you sniffled, managing to raise your gaze just enough to see his indifferent expression mocking your suffering, causing you to mutter asshole over and over again under your breath.
-
Only two years later, your mother's relentless determination secured an invitation back to the Gojo estate. You resisted, knuckles turning white from clinging to the car door while your mother's patience wore thin, "You'll go in and make friends with him, you ungrateful child!"
Everything inside the estate was too grand, too expensive, and about as warm and welcoming as the glass of a museum display.
You sat and watched your mother's behavior change acutely in the presence of the older Gojos, engaging them in polite conversation over the dinner table while the heir himself caught your gaze, holding a boiling teapot in his hand.
Mesmerized, you watched as he poured a searing stream of tea over the back of his palm, the liquid slipping off like water off a duck's back, leaving no trace of damage or wetness on his hand.
Seeing this as a challenge, you grabbed another teapot from the table, tilting it hastily over your palm. A cry of pain tore through your lips as you hurled the teapot away, watching the porcelain shatter beneath your feet as you clutched onto the freshly forming burn.
"I am so sorry!" Your mother's muffled apologies filled the room, the size of it giving them a cathedral-sized echo. "Apologize." She ordered from beneath your feet, picking up the porcelain pieces while you stared blankly at the tea dripping between the wooden boards, wondering where it was going.
Your mother loomed over you in the kitchen, wrapping a bandage over your burn, "Why was I cursed with such a useless child? When will you understand it's for your own good? If they don't increase the funds for our company.." A defeated laugh came out of her mouth when you whinced at the tightening gauze. "What am I even explaining to you?"
"I don't know, mama."
"Listen, do you like your dresses?" And you nod obediently, thinking of the floral patterns on the fabrics in your closet, "Your shoes? Your food? The friends at your pompous school?"
"Pom-pous?" You mumble, trying to interpret what the word could mean.
"Do you?"
"I do." You concur, still not quite following.
"Then you'll be nice to that boy, do you understand? Smile when you see him, laugh when he says something funny; hell, do whatever he tells you to."
You sit back at the dinner table, moving the chair so roughly towards Satoru that his eyes narrow at the scraping sound it makes. You sit on the chair obediently, informing him proudly, "Mama told me to do whatever you tell me to."
"Your mama said that because she wants something from my parents." He announces, watching his parents get swallowed back into spewing pleasantries.
"M-hmm," you nod resolutely, "She says she wants an increase of fun." Satoru blinks slowly at your words, and you place your hands on your knees, directing a blank stare at the wall at the far end of the room.
A few minutes pass before the heir finally interrogates, "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for you to tell me what you want me to do."
"Alright," He pulls you by the sleeve away from the table, getting his parents' attention by merely standing up and their approval by lightly nodding his head. You throw a look at your mother, to which she smiles, mouthing 'good girl' before returning to her discourse.
"Where are we going?" You inquire. He had long since stopped tugging at your sleeve, but you followed him out of the estate like a lost puppy regardless, beginning to feel restless at the unfamiliar streets growing dark around you.
"To do something I want to do."
-
"Takahiro's Con-ve-ni-ence?" you read aloud the letters printed on the shop window, sending a puzzled stare to the boy next to you.
"You like sweets?" Satoru asks, the light from the shop window brightening only half his face; the shadows formed on the other half making him look severe.
You shake your head, "I like salty."
"Then you haven't tried enough sweets." The boy looked almost offended at the shake of your head. The thought of your mother's resentful look had passed through your mind, making you shudder.
"I like sweet."
"Is it sweet or salty then?" The boy furrowed his brows, already halfway through the door into the shop, "Never mind, just wait here."
You watched him through the transparent windows, disappearing into an aisle and reappearing from the other end. Time stretched out excruciatingly as you watched the strokes of the light from the store trying to push away the darkness of the buildings on the other side of the road.
"Girl," a voice muttered, "girl, girl, girl, girl," you swore you saw a twitching figure in a building's window. You looked around, making sure you were, in fact, the only girl in the vicinity.
You pointed a tiny finger at yourself, gazing straight at the window, mouthing, 'Me?'
"Yes, child." The voice wobbled, "Child, child, child."
You cough, your throat sore from the frosty air you'd breathed in while walking, "Do you need help?"
"Yes. Help. Help, help." The voice rasped, louder now. You squinted at the window, the figure still at the same spot, strange hands caressing the cold, slippery glass.
"Where are you?" The inside of the building was pitch black. The light from the shop failed to reach the large doorway, but you told yourself that you should be fine as long as you feel its presence at your back. "If it's dark, you sing, yes? Keeps them away, the bastards." You remember your mother's words, humming a tune under your breath.
"Help. Help. Help, child." But the stairs seem dangerous, and your throat is too sore to keep humming; an eerie gust of wind from a crack in the wall makes you fumble back a few steps before you thump on your behind. The presence draws in, a nightmarish being that engulfs the room whole, a hint of light reflecting on its sharpened teeth.
Footsteps. A pull on the collar of your shirt. A burning sensation on your thigh from grazing the floor. A harsh breath and a word; "Red."
"Red," the boy repeated, "red!" louder now, taking a spot before you, one arm extended before him, "red!" the scream is a desperate plea, "crap, get up!" He turns swiftly, still shaking his arm as if trying to rid it of a bug, "D'you want to be dinner?"
You shake your head, feeling your knees give in, too weak and trembling to hold an entire body, no matter how small. The being still looms over, feeding on the powerlessness to approach.
Satoru grabs your arm, pulling on it harshly to get you on your feet, and runs. You pass the doorway, catching a glimpse of a plastic bag lying outside the building, pieces of candy sprawled on the concrete around it. Your shoe sinks on a chocolate bar, flattening it; you almost lose your balance, close to slipping on the wrapper if not the iron grip on your arm.
Finally settled on a bench beneath a street lamp at the edge of the Gojo estate, you find the strength to inquire, "Your magic spell didn't work?"
Taken aback, Gojo grumbled, "Yeah, but I'll make it work, next time."
"Next time?" you wonder aloud, "Do you see monsters often?"
"Let's get inside, your mother must be worried."
-
You only see Gojo Satoru again seven years later.
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normansnt · 2 months
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As a thank you.
(Vox x bar tander!Male reader)
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Warnings: Violence, reader gets beaten up and they take out your eye m sorry:(
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"That, annoying fucking son of a bitch" cursed to himself Vox as he walked down the streets of hell to find a bar he could go to.
Sure he had his private bar in his flat but he needed to get away from Val and Vel.
He was just too fed up with their arguments and yelling he needed to get out.
He felt like trying a new bar tonight so he looked carefully at every one of them. When he looked into one of the last ones at the end of the road he looked behind the bar.
He liked what he saw, he saw the bartender.
He sat down on one of the bar stools and you went to him immediately.
"What can I get for you sir? You seem done with today." You commented lightly
"You guessed right, and I'll take whatever is the strongest." He answered trying to sound just a bit alluring. A one night stand with the cute bartender was just what he needed.
"A shot?" You asked back. "Thats the strongest we have"
"I'll take it, but only if you drink one with me" answer the TV back flirtatiously.
You raised your eyebrow.
"All right but only one." You answered while you filled up two very small shot glasses with a light blue liquid.
"Aren't those glasses a but too small?"
"Thats how strong it is its not advised to drink it in bigger portions." You lightly smirked at him.
"Well than, to shitty day" he raised his glass you raised yours and you both drank it.
This was only the start of the night. He kept requesting that one shot to the point where he was so drunk he was about to sell his company to your boss.
You couldn't just stand there and let him, your boss was a horrible person, 'Im way to nice to be in hell' you thought to yourself.
"Excuse me Mr.Vox someone is looking for you, they are waiting outside." You said loudly to get him out of the situation. Your boss was glaring at you with an intent to kill and you knew you'd regret this later, but Vox was nice to you and thats a very rare experience if you work as a bartender in hell.
You lead Vox outside of the bar.
"Huhh...nobody's waiting here" he said slurring his words.
"I know but you have to leave sir, I think you had enough tonight." You said as you kept glancing at the door to see if your boss would come out.
"Shut up, pretty boy I don't take orders from no one not even from someone as cute as you." He chuckled and than he fell into your arms.
"Sir? Sir wake up" but it was no use, you heard him snoring.
"Fuuuck" you couldn't just call a taxi to bring him home, every idiot would take an advantage of a drunk sleeping overlord. And you didn't have a way of reaching any of the other Vees, either.
"Shit." There was no other way you had to get him home. And of course you didn't have a car. So you just put him on your back and headed for the massive Vees tower. Thank god it was not so far. You knew your boss is not gonna be happy that you just left your shift but he was gonna beat you up for not letting Vox sell his company to him so one more punch didn't really matter.
When you arrived you walked into the lobby and to your luck (or unluck) Valentino was there giving a tantrum about where the fuck Vox was.
When he turned around and saw you his anger vanished.
"Uhhh what a handsome little toy Vox found himself, do you have a job sweetie?" He asked in his charismatic way.
"I would not make a deal with you if Lucifer himself would be forcing me to, Mr.Vox just had a bit too much tonight." You said as you placed Vox in one of the couches in the lobby.
"Have a good rest of your night sir" you said as you started to walk out.
"How interesting..." commented Val.
You were working the next day too, of course you had no such a thing as days off. After you got back last night...well all you thought your boss was going to do, he did. However he did something new. Usually he only hurts your body so that you can use your handsome face to lure people in. But this time, he was very pissed you just took away a huge opportunity so...he took away something important from you too.
You had to show up in an eye patch for work today. There was no eye underneath anyways.
Vox woke up with a murderous headache.
"Fuuuuuck I dont remember anything from last night" he said while he walked out of his room to get coffee.
Val was sitting on a couch.
"Really? Not even the cutie who took you home?"
"Huhh, who took me- oh shit the bartender?"
"He could tend to my bar." Chuckled Valentino.
"Fuck, thats...actually nice." That was a very weird thing to do.
You spilled a drink, again. It was hard to get used to only having one eye.
"Shit" you mumbled to yourself.
"(Y/N)... that better be the last drink you fucking spill understood?" Your boss growled at you.
"Yes, sir." You whispered back.
Vox walked into the bar his eyes searching only for you.
"Mr.Vox, what a pleasure to have you back." Your boss greeted him immediately.
Vox barely acknowledged him however when he spotted you at the bar, he immediately walked over.
"Had a good night sleep sir?" You asked while smiling lightly as he sat down to the bar.
"Truly lovely," he answered sarcastically. Now that he was looking at you without a fogged mind in day light, you were even more handsome than he originally remembered.
"What can I get you sir?"
"Nothing, I cant drink right the taste of vomit is still fresh in my mouth." He answered. You chuckled at that. It was a pleasant sound for Vox. He smiled a bit too. And then he realized, you didn't have an eye patch yesterday. He knew because he remembered staring at your eyes a lot yesterday.
"What happened?" Vox blurted out. Surprising even himself. Since when does he care? Since now apparently.
You gut nervous all of a sudden and glanced at your boss who was looking at the two of you suspiciously.
"N-Nothing you know how being a bartender is its not the safest job in the world."
Vox saw the glance. He also saw that your boss was glaring at you from the moment you two started talking.
"Would you excuse me for a second" he said at last and started walking over to your boss. Only to be stopped by you grabbing his hand.
"No, sir don't" you said, if you made such a huge power as Vox mad at your boss, you would loose much more than one of your eye.
"Oh sweetie, your boss is nothing" he said as he smiled at you to get you to let go, which you did, still worried.
You saw that Vox was talking to your boss. You boss started shacking his head and got really pissed, thats when Vox put his hand around your boss's neck and made him sign something.
When Vox walked over to you, you still looked worried.
"Come on, we are leaving." He said.
"What? Sir I cant."
"I bought you, sugar, I have a private bar." He smirked at you slightly.
"Just to say thanks for last night."
And to have you with him, but you don't need to know that yet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toodles I hope you guys liked it😘
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zeezelweazel · 3 months
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Could you write a smut story with a CEO Leah Williamson x reader cuz this pic just gives dom vibes cuz the pics that tonight’s awards gave us were just 🤌����
If not it’s totally cool and all is swell xxx
Leah Williamson| Sweet and slow|
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Leah in suits is my Roman empire fr
Turns out Tumblr won't let me edit any ask so I'll have to continue these fics from my pc :(
TW: oral (Leah receiving), praise, fingering (reader receiving), semi public sex
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Dating your boss wasn't really a problem. You two met before you got your job in her company and no matter how much some of your co-workers like to gossip, you got the position you have simply because you deserve it.
As one of the most high ranked people in the company you spent a lot of time with Leah, either in meetings with the rest of the board or alone in her ofice looking over your recent projects.
That's why you weren't surprised when Leah called you in her office. When you entered the room you got to see Leah for the first time at work today. She was wearing an enticing black striped suit with a white undershirt and a black tie. Your girlfriend was sitting in her luxurious leather seat, fingers toying with her tie.
Leah looked at you with a look you immediately recognise, her dark gaze trailing up and down your body. You felt your cunt throb when your eyes met from across the room. You gulped when Leah raised an eyebrow at your lack of words.
"Close the blinds and lock the door."
You did as she said, immediately pressing the button and watched as the room gradually darkened when the blinds fell shut, after hearing the click of the door Leah beckoned you closer.
You could feel just how wet you are while you walk closer to her. When you're close enough Leah takes one of your hands in hers and pulls you to sit on her lap. You gasp after the sudden movement and bite your lip when Leah slowly drags her hand over your hips. She leans closer and places soft kisses on your neck, slowly inching closer to your ear. She bites your ear lobe and you whine when you feel her squeeze at your hips.
"Why don't you get on your knees for me baby? And if you're good I'll give a reward."
It's very pathetic, how fast you fell on your knees for her, but looking up at Leah with her strong gaze and sharp jaw and her blonde hair framing her face the only thing you can think about is how much you're aching for her.
You try not to squeeze your thighs together as you watch from your place on the floor while she slowly unbuttons her trousers. You lick your lips at the sight of her lacy black lingerie and your eyes immediately fall on the wet spot on the fabric. Leah threads a hand through your hair and brings you closer to her dripping pussy. She humms in approval when you go to remove the fabric, not failing to notice the mouth watering way her underwear sticks to her lips from the wetness.
"Be a good girl and eat me out."
You certainly didn't need to be told twice. You drag your tongue through her folds, relishing in Leah's soft moan. Her beautiful sounds only spur you on as you lick her and slurp her sweet juices with vigor. You know not to tease Leah so when her hands tighten in your hair you immediately take her clit in your mouth, sucking softly. Leah's back arches off the chair and her her legs squeeze at your head.
"Fuck, that's it baby. My good girl."
You moan against her cunt at the sweet praise and look up at her only to moan again at the sight of Leah with her blazer completely disregarded and her shirt unbuttoned all the way. Her tie is now loose and hangs between her lacy black bra. Leah is squeezing at her breast through the bra and pulling at her nipple while you continue your ministrations. You know she's close when she starts grinding her pussy on your face, her fingers holding you tight against her when she comes, liquid gushing out against your face while Leah lets out a couple of groans alongside a string of curses.
You pull back when she finally loosens her grip on your head. You smile up at her, face glisening with her slick and Leah groans, pulling you up and connecting your lips on a heated kiss. You push Leah's shirt of her shoulders but when you go to remove her bra she pulls back with a bite on your lower lip, leaving you whining.
"Time for your reward baby doll."
Leah spins you around before you can say anything. Soon she's unzipping your pencil skirt and gropping your chest over your top.
"Leah please..."
She smirks against your neck when you plead for her. It turns her on so much when you beg and you know it.
"What do you want love?"
You moan when Leah rubs soft circles over your clothed clit. Her lips still bitting your neck and creating hickies that you don't know if you'll be able to cover.
"I need your fingers Leah, please I need it so bad."
Leah doesn't seem to be in a mood for teasing, this is supposed to be a reward after all, so she removes your underwear and runs her fingers through your wet folds just to make sure they're wet enough before she shoves two in your throbbing pussy.
You moan loudly when Leah moves her fingers in you hard and fast, her second hand coming down to play with your sensitive clit. Her mouth has abandoned your neck to move further up so Leah can whisper soft praises in your ear. Her words only push you closer to the edge. Your moans are louder now but you're too far gone into pleasure to think about the fact that anyone could hear you.
"Fuck, Leah! I'm so close, please, don't stop!"
Leah doesn't stop, instead she moves her fingers much faster than before. You're now bend over the desk as Leah fucks you from behind, her slender hands never letting up in their movements.
It takes a few more thrusts and soon your legs are clamping down, trapping her hand between your thighs as your whole body shakes with the power of your orgasm.
Leah slows down but keeps moving her fingers, helping you ride out your orgasm. You go limp against her desk simply taking a few moments to catch your breath. Leah pecks your cheek and you smile.
"You okay, doll?"
"Fuck, we need to do this more often."
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topguncortez · 4 months
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Are You With Me? | | Chapter 2
previous part | masterlist | next part
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synopsis: Jake and Y/N sit down for an appointment about Ella's illness. Jake has his reservations about Miles being Ella's doctor.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: medical inaccuracies, childhood cancer, mentions of cheating, physical violence, trauma flashback, fighting, cursing
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“How could you do this to us!” The shattering sound of glass filled the air, making everything around them go silent, “You bastard! I loved you! Why did you do this!” 
She couldn’t see the little boy cowered behind the wall. His pajamas pants were soaked as he stood there watching the fight in the kitchen. He clutched his dinosaur blanket in his hands as he watched his mother fall to her knees in a heap of tears. His father just stood there, with his head hung low, guilt aching in his body. 
“Did our vows mean nothing to you?” 
“They mean everything to me,” He whispered out. She snapped her head up to look at him. 
“But you slept with that whore! All this time while I was raising our children you were fucking some other woman!” He looked away from her, not being able to stand seeing the pain in her eyes anymore, “Look at me, George!” 
He turned his head back towards her, “It meant nothing.” 
The woman let out a laugh as she stood up from her knees. She shook her head as her hand curled around another glass mug, “It meant nothing. . . Did this mean nothing!?” She threw the mug again at the wall. The little boy jumped, covering his ears from the sound, “I’m leaving.” 
“What?” George asked, his eyes growing frantic as she quickly moved through the kitchen, grabbing her purse and coat, “No. Jolene, let’s work this out.” 
“I can’t,” She shook her head, going towards the built in desk. She grabbed a stack of blank checks, stuffing them in her purse, “I can’t stand to look at you. I’m leaving.” 
“No, Jolene, lets-” 
“I am done!” Jolene yelled as she opened the door to the garage and slammed it shut. George closed his eyes and hung his head as the familiar sound of her car started up. 
The sound of crying broke George from his stupour. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over at the wall where the source of the crying was. He slowly made his way over towards the crying, catching the little boy who stood there with wet pajama pants and his dinosaur blanket, tears running down his cheeks. 
He clenched his jaw, “What are you doing up, Jake?” 
The little boy lifted his head and looked at his father, “I-I need momma. I-I had an accident.”  
George shook his head, and brushed past the boy, “Go to bed.” 
— — — 
TWO YEARS AGO: 
Jake shouldn’t be here. 
In fact, he should be anywhere but here. He never wanted his life to come to this, to be the lowly man sitting at a dumpy bar late at night. But he had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t go to the Hard Deck, Penny would call his wife. And he couldn’t go home to his wife either. 
It had only been a couple of weeks since they lost their baby, and the weeks had been hell. Y/N tried to plaster on a smile and act like everything was fine, but Jake knew that wasn’t true. He knew that when the house went quiet after the kids were at school, she sat in the empty bedroom that would be the nursery and cried. Every time Jake tried to comfort her, she would push him away, not wanting to be touched or coddled. Her newest unhealthy habit was taking pregnancy tests, to see if maybe, just maybe, the doctor got things wrong. 
“Another one?” The bartender asked, looking at Jake’s empty scotch glass. 
“He’ll have another one. And i’ll take the same.” Jake snapped his head towards the sound of a female voice, “I saw you lookin lonely and thought you’d need some company.” 
Jake nodded his head, clenching his jaw as the bartender set two fresh glasses filled with amber liquid. Jake didn’t even look at the girl as he finished his drink in one go. 
“Whoa slow down there, tiger,” She giggled, “Nights just getting started.” 
“Night is over,” Jake grumbled, slamming his glass down. He went to stand up when the female placed her hand on his arm to stop him. 
“I-I shouldn’t have done that but I just don’t… Look,” She sighed, running a hand across her forehead, “I’m coming off of a failed engagement and my friends told me to just get back out there and I-“ 
“Thought I was the right subject to test the theory?” Jake raised an eyebrow and the woman nodded her head, biting her lip, “Well I’m not. I’m married.” 
She frowned, looking at his hand, “I don’t see a ring.” 
“Don’t need to wear one to be married to someone,” Jake pulled his wallet out of his pocket, setting down a couple twenties to cover his tab and leave a hefty tip, “Word of advice, sweetheart, you want to meet a guy? Don’t find him in a bar.” 
“I’m sorry,” She her voice cracked, making Jake stop in his tracks. 
‘I should go home. I should go home.’ Jake thought in his head, as he turned over his shoulder, looking at the girl with tears in her eyes. She was clearly out of her element as she sat in the dark dingy bar, and Jake wasn’t liking the look Earl was giving her. He huffed a sigh, as he turned back towards his barstool. 
“One drink,” Jake ordered. The girl seemed to perk up a bit, wiping her tears and nodding in agreement, “I’m Jake, by the way.” 
“Cassie,” The blonde said, holding out her hand for Jake to shake. 
The conversation flowed easily between Jake and Cassie, and before either one of them knew it, one drink had turned into several. Cassie opened up about her failed engagement to her high school sweetheart who had knocked up her best friend. Cassie talked about growing up in a small town in Oregon, and how she had waited her whole life to get out and explore the world. 
“What about you?” Cassie asked, “I told you about my engagement, my family, my college threesome adventure. . . so what about you? What about your wife?” 
It was like cold water had been poured down Jake’s back at the mention of his wife, “Nothing to tell. Look,” Jake stood up again, “I really need to go this time. I’ll walk you out and call you a cab.” 
Cassie shook her head, “No, it’s okay,” She gave Jake a small smile, “Thanks for listening to me.” 
Jake smiled back at her, “No problem. Good night, Cassie.” 
Jake drove home in silence, the events of the night weighing heavily on his mind. He knew that he shouldn’t have stayed out that long, that he should’ve been home to help Y/N with dinner and putting the kids to bed. But being at home felt like his own personal hell. He could hardly find a place in the house that was quiet with a four year old and a two year old running around. Y/N might’ve liked the noise and the chaos, but Jake was a creature of habit and structure. Not all the time had to be fun and play time. 
When Jake pulled up to the house, he found it unsurprisingly dark. He quickly grabbed his stuff out of his truck, and walked as quietly as he could up the stairs. Jake checked on both of his kids, before going to his shared bedroom. Y/N’s sleeping frame was laid out in the middle of the bed, her face pushed into Jake’s pillow. His heart tugged a bit seeing her in her most vulnerable form. It seemed to be only when Y/N was asleep she was most at peace. 
As if she could sense his presence, Y/N stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open to adjust to the darkness, “Jake?” 
“Shh,” Jake quieted her as he walked over to the side of the bed, “Sorry to wake you.” 
“No, it’s okay,” Y/N mumbled, turning over to face him, “You’re home late?” 
“Drinks at the Hard Deck,” The lie rolled off his tongue almost too easily. 
“Oh,” Y/N nodded her head, “Are you gonna shower?” Jake nodded his head. Y/N pushed herself up on her elbows looking at her husband, “Can I join you?” 
Jake swallowed, shaking his head, “Not tonight. Go back to bed.” 
Y/N felt her eyes burn with rejection as she laid back down in bed. She couldn’t even remember the last time she and Jake had been intimate. Sex wasn’t a huge part of their relationship, but it was an important part. Jake had never turned her down as much as he had in the past couple of weeks. Y/N had never been the type to worry about Jake and his attractiveness towards her, but now she was starting to grow concerned. 
“I’ll be right back,” Jake placed his hand on her cheek before leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead. 
“Jake,” Y/N called out to him, grabbing his hand before he could walk away, “You still love me, right?” 
Jake scoffed, “Of course I do, sweets. Where did that come from?” 
Y/N shook her head, pushing the tears back from her eyes, “Nothing. I just. . .I just feel a bit-” 
“Well stop it,” Jake said, his eyebrows furrowed, “I love you, alright. You’re the one for me. You always have been, always will be,” Y/N nodded her head, as Jake pressed another kiss to her forehead, “I’m going to shower. Go back to sleep, I’ll be out soon.” 
— — — 
PRESENT: 
“There’s a flower in my lungs?” Ella’s eyes were wide as she stared at Miles. 
It had been two months to the day since Y/N had woken up to Ella coughing up blood. It had six weeks of tests, doctors appointments, needles, tears, and anxiety, all for them to get the result that they didn’t want. Ella sat in the middle of Jake and Y/N, while Miles sat behind his desk and Val protectively in the corner. Jake had his reservations about Miles being one of Ella’s doctors but Y/N and Val assured him that he was the best. There was no one better to oversee Ella’s care but him. 
“How did it get in there?” Ella asked, “What is a lung?” 
Miles softly chuckled, as Y/N shook her head. Ella had been in surprisingly good spirits despite the constant needle pokes and doctor’s visit. She remained her curious self, asking about how the MRI machines worked and what they needed a tube of her blood for. When the appointments were over, Ella went home and played with Alex and Eli until it was dinner. She hadn’t missed a beat, which was refreshing for Y/N and Jake. 
“Your lungs,” Miles said, standing up and walking around his desk. He kneeled in front of Ella, a smile on his face as he talked to her, “Are right here,” He gently poked her sides, making her giggle, “They help you breathe. Remember when you come to the doctor in the middle of the night? And you were having trouble getting air?” Ella nodded her head, a sad look growing on her face, “Well, it’s because this flower is in your lungs, and it’s not supposed to be there.” 
“It’s making me sick?” Ella looked over at her dad. 
Jake nodded his head, putting his arm around her chair, “Yeah, babygirl, it is making you sick. But Doctor Miles here is going to make you all better.” 
“Will it hurt?”  
Miles looked at Y/N and Jake before proceeding, “It won’t be fun. We have to give you some medicine, and do something called surgery to take the flower out.” 
Ella’s bottom lip wobbled as she looked back at Jake, “I don’t want it to hurt.” 
“I know baby,” Jake sighed, picking her up and setting her in his lap. She nuzzled her head into the crook of Jake’s neck, her tears hitting his skin, “It’ll be okay. It’ll only hurt for a little while, and then you’ll feel better.” 
“I don’t want it to hurt at all,” Ella sobbed, “Can’t you leave it in?” 
“No, Ella,” Y/N said, moving to sit next to Jake. She gently ran her hand up and down Ella’s back, “If we leave it in, you will get sicker. And nobody wants you to get sick.” 
Ella cried even harder, fully turning her face into Jake’s shoulder. Y/N closed her eyes, counting to ten in her head. While Ella was running around without a care in the world, Y/N had spent the last two months in tears. As soon as she and Jake put the kids down for bed, and Jake retreated to his new home; the loft above the garage, Y/N broke down in the solace of her bedroom. Her nose was rubbed raw from the constant use of tissues. Her eyes burned from crying. And her body felt weak from the exhaustion of being a mother and trying to wrap her head around Ella’s diagnosis. 
“I promise Ella,” Miles spoke softly, “I will make sure it doesn’t hurt. I will do all that I can.” 
Ella picked her head up from Jake’s chest, her little fist clenched his shirt in her hand, “You promise?” 
“I pinky promise,” Miles held out his pinky. Ella reached her hand out, and wrapped her small pinky around his. 
“Hey Bells,” Val said, pushing off of her corner spot, “How about we go look at the new babies?” 
Ella looked at her dad with wide eyes before she scurried down from his lap and to her aunt. It was moments like these that Y/N was grateful for Val. Her ability to read the room and know just what she needed at what time. Once Ella and Val were out of the room, Y/N couldn’t hold her tears back anymore. 
“I’m sorry,” She sniffled, “I just. . . I’m sorry.” 
“What’s there to be sorry about?” Miles asked, grabbing a box of tissues off his desk. 
Y/N grabbed several tissues and dabbed the tears off her cheeks. She was thankful that today of all days she decided on the waterproof mascara, “For this,” She gestured to herself, “For the tears. My daughter has cancer and I’m the one-” 
“You are allowed to cry,” Miles said, “This is scary and frightening. In fact, if you didn’t cry, I think I’d be concerned.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, “There’s that smile.” 
Jake clenched his jaw, looking between Miles and his ex-wife. Y/N hadn’t shared all the details on why her and Miles didn’t work out, but it was clear to Jake that something still remained. He knew from Val that Miles was one of the best pediatric doctors on this side of the US, but that didn’t mean Jake trusted him. Jake didn’t trust him when Y/N was dating him, and he still didn’t trust him now that his daughter’s life was in his hands. 
“So,” Miles said, “We are going to get Ella started with her first rounds of chemotherapy. Because she’s a pediatric patient, it is our protocol that we keep them here during the chemo session.” 
“How long will that be?” Jake asked. 
“First session will be eight weeks. Twice a week. This cancer can be highly aggressive and the best way we can get ahead of it, is if we are highly aggressive. Now, I will be the lead doctor on Ella’s case, but we will also collaborate with the lead of Oncology, Doctor Thomas.” 
“He any good?” Y/N rolled her eyes at Jake’s question. Of course any doctor that worked at the UC San Diego had to be the best of the best. 
“She,” Miles corrected, “Is one of the best. I wouldn’t have her on Ella’s team if she wasn’t.” 
Y/N nodded, “Thank you, Miles. I’m gonna go see where Val took my child.” 
“No problem, Y/N. And if you need anything, seriously, don’t hesitate to call me.” Jake tried his hardest to not roll his eyes. The moment the door had shut, Jake straightened in his chair and stared down Miles, “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person.” 
“Not even by far.” 
Miles rolled his eyes, “I am here to make Ella feel better. You and I want to the same end goal, and I can’t do my job if you are constantly against me.” 
Jake scoffed, “Let’s make one thing clear,” He stood from his chair, “I am not your friend. I never have been and never will be. My wfie says you’re the best of the best, so I believe her. You better prove to me that you are the best of the best and make sure my little girl will live a long healthy life. We’ve already lost one baby and we sure as hell aren’t going to lose another one.” 
“I will do everything in my power to make sure Ella lives a long healthy life, Jake,” Miles said sincerely, “It is my promise to you.” 
“Good,” Jake nodded his head, “As long as you do your job and don’t let distractions dictate what you do. . . we won’t have a problem,” Jake flashed Miles his signature smirk, before turning around to face the door, “Have a good day.” 
“By the way,” Miles called out as Jake’s hand reached for the door knob, “She broke up with me because she’s still in love with you.” 
Jake felt his heart beat speed up in his chest as he opened the door and walked out without another word.
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dailyreverie · 4 months
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Christmas Valentine
A/N: This one was requested by @writingsoftheloser, and I loved it so so much! Thank you so much for requesting! I had the idea for it and then I came across the song Christmas Valentine by Jason Mraz & Ingrid Michaelson and it is so Bucky and gave me all the feels and ughh... just give it a listen please 🥹🥹I really hope you all like it!
2. "You shouldn't have"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns, reader is called doll)
Word count: 1k
Holiday prompts ⛄
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'Twas the night before Christmas, when every corner of the common room was bathed in the warm glow of sparkling colored lights. The chimney crackled, casting a cozy fire across the room. Everyone was dressed in their festive best, and joy permeated the air… and Bucky would much rather be in his room.
He remembered Christmas, he truly did, Steve made sure of that, and it’s not that he didn’t like everyone - he liked Steve, and Nat sometimes, and Sam could be somewhat tolerable every now and then. Yet, this Christmas, his first after everything, he preferred observing from a distance. A bottomless glass of scotch kept him company, the amber liquid warming him as he contentedly watched from afar, even if it meant being away from you.
“Merry Christmas everyone!” Ah, shit, you. How could he forget to include you on his mental list of people he enjoys? Bucky caught himself smiling into his glass when you entered the crowded room with your cheerful exclamation. Nat hugged you, Wanda playfully placed a Santa hat on your head, and despite the festive welcome from others, you still searched for Bucky and shared a quiet smile across the room.
God… the way he felt for you. He never thought after all those years he would be able to feel something like that again, something that felt so warm even though it must be snowing outside. 
The night went on, food and drinks came and went, and the two-week-long Secret Santa that had been going on was finally revealed. It was right after the gift exchange when you began walking towards him, with a beautiful ear-to-ear smile on your face courtesy of the festivities and the sweet drinks Wanda kept giving you. 
“Merry Christmas,” you greeted him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by before, I was dragged to the whole thing as soon as I arrived.” You laughed slightly, remembering to the way you were engulfed by your teammates. 
“I could see that,” Bucky laughed too, more discreetly, but laughed too. “Merry Christmas, by the way.” He knew he sounded awkward when he said it, almost as if he wasn’t quite sure if those were the words he wanted to say, but when your cheeks heated up and your smile got shyer, he knew he had to be doing something right.
“Hey, listen I- uhm-” It was your turn to be awkward as you fidgeted with the gift bag on your hands. "I know you didn't want to be part of the Secret Santa thing but I can't let you celebrate Christmas without a gift." Bucky decided to keep the image of your reddening cheeks forever in his head, perhaps for a rainy day. 
"Oh, doll. Why did you bother yourself with this?" The festive paper bag in your hands reached the top of the table, and Bucky hesitated to reach for it.
"You are never a bother, Buck. This is the least I could do to thank you for all the training."
Bucky chuckled to himself as you pushed the bag towards him, finally grabbing it, and once he opened it, his cautious smile turned into surprise. "You shouldn't have."
"Nonsense." You shrugged as he revealed the first edition of The Hobbit you had gifted him. "Remember that time you called me a Hobbit because I kept referring to your missions as adventures?”
"Of course I do." Bucky laughed softly. "Of course, I do," Bucky laughed softly. The gift, a first edition of The Hobbit, left him genuinely touched.
“I also may have overheard you say to Sam that you read it when it came out. I though maybe you could have a little thing from back then, now.”
"This is… this is wonderful." You took this thankfulness with a smile. Contrary to his words, though, he groaned. "Well, now this is embarrassing, but I might also… uhm…" He reached down his chair, pulling out a gift bag. "I also got you something but it's not nearly as good as yours." 
You gasped dramatically at the sight of the bag, making grabby hands for it. "For me?!" Bucky nodded, silently confirming your question and watching you intently. Every move you made tightened his stomach into a tighter knot, not sure if you would even like it - opening the bag, taking out the little box inside it, untying the ribbon from it… every second felt like torture for him.
You took in a sharp breath when you opened the box, admiring the beautiful necklace Bucky had gifted you; you had seen it before, that one time you went downtown with him. You thought he wouldn't have even noticed, but he not only watched your eyes shine at the sight of it, he also went back that same afternoon to buy it to make sure no one else got it first.
"Bucky, this is- this is gorgeous.” Your fingers ghosted delicately above it. “You shouldn’t have.” You repeated his words, making him chuckle slightly. 
“How could I not? You kept going back to look at it.” He freed your hands from it, standing up right in front of you and circling your neck with his hands; his lotion made you take a deep breath and hold it as he kept moving closer, you had never seen him move so gently as he placed the chain around your neck and clasped the lock, making sure it was straight before taking a step back again. 
“It's beautiful.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your fingers toying with the charm as you looked up to smile at him. 
Bucky nodded, a quiet “yes, it is” confirming what he saw right in front of him. 
“Buck, I-” A call for your name interrupted you.
“Go, I’ll come find you later,” Bucky promised, hoping your thoughts mirrored his. Before leaving you kissed his cheek and squeezed his flesh arm, your way of telling him he better come find you soon.
“Would you look at that, the robot has feelings.” Sam sneaked up on him, patting his back and walking past him to get a drink.
“Leave him alone, Sam.” Steve warned, not without his own squeeze to his shoulder with an encouraging “Good one, Buck”. He had never seen his friend happier, his eyes lost in the crowd not able to stop looking at you. Bucky remembered Christmas, he was sure he did, but he had never loved Christmas lights as much as he liked them reflecting in your eyes right then.
🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
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luna0713hunter · 6 months
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"you'll have to teach me " with zoro please and with
neck kisses / kitchen counter kisses
Kisses to keep your lover quiet but zoro kisses the reader
Lazy make-up
Thank btw I love your work
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Author's note : its currently 3:30 am that im writing this request and gosh so many cute kisses with Zoro! And thank you for your nice compliments!!i hope you enjoy it 💕
"you'll have to teach me"
"neck kisses"
"kitchen counter kisses"
"kisses to keep your lover quiet"
"lazy makeout"
Based on this prompt
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Warnings : none,lots of fluff and kisses,cute couple
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
Getting some privacy in a ship is nearly impossible.
You cant really blame anyone;its a public space that all the crewmates share,and no one has the actual time to relax and spend time in their lover's company.
But there are also mornings like this: where everything's soft in the glow of the rising sun;the ocean calm and the sky so blue with few clouds, it has you closing your eyes and wishing for that moment to last forever.
As you lean back on the kitchen counter after you've made yourself a cup of tea,you enjoy the rare moments of loneliness. You close your eyes and take a sip of the sweet honey flavor liquid and let the rays of the sunlight warm your face.
When you hear the sound of someone stepping inside the kitchen,you open your eyes;ready to greet Sanji, assuming he's going to make breakfast since he's always the first one to wake up. But what greets you is the sight of a very drowsy Zoro making his way toward you. You pour him a cup of tea as well and offer it to him;and eye him as he accepts it with a grunt. You grin and bump your shoulder to his,making him grunt again.
"not awake yet,sleepy head?"
"not my fault. Usopp snores. And Luffy talks about food in his sleep."
You snort around your own cup of tea, "what about Sanji?"
Zoro takes a moment to consider your question,a when he speaks next,he seems genuinely surprised by his answer.
"he... actually isnt so bothersome when he sleeps. Which is weird, considering how annoying he is when he's awake."
You throw your head back and laugh;the sound so refreshing in the silence of the morning. Zoro takes a sip of his tea,and leans on his forearms next to where you're currently sitting on the counter.
"why are you up so early?"
You shrug and tilt your head toward the window.
"the weather was too nice to sleep in."
"is that so?"
You close your eyes when the skies clears again and the rays of the sunshine warm your face.
"yeah."
You two bask in each others' presence;no need for any words,just enjoying the silence. The tea finishes soon,and with warm belly,you eyelids start to droop again.
"sleepy?"
When you open your eyes,you see Zoro's face inches away from yours;having you caged between his arms. You lean forward and rest your forehead against his, smiling when he lowers his head and presses his lips to your neck. You shiver,and wrap your arms around Zoro's neck.
"you know,i always dreamed of kissing my boyfriend on a kitchen counter."
An amused chuckle escapes his lips,and he tilts his head to one side while eyeing your lips; pretending to be confused.
"oh?then I'm afraid you'll have to teach me how to do it."
You giggle and pull him closer
"that,can be arranged."
When your lips meet,the morning feels even better. Zoro's lips are soft and move slowly against your own. Its everything you've ever wanted,and even more.
Because of mornings like this,you try to wake up earlier than usual every now and then;so you can have a small alone time with the man you love before everyone else wake up.
When a small sound escapes your lips as he bites your lower lip lightly,Zoro pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against yours.
"you have to keep it down,babe. Don't want other to wake up now,do we?"
And one shake of your head is enough answer for him to dive back in,and capture your lips again.
And you pray to every god you know,that mornings like this last forever.
885 notes · View notes
iwaasfairy · 1 year
Text
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┌─ “ ! „ ROGUE
tw. incest, spit, dom/sub stuff, reader is a textbook brat, size kink, i think i mention tummy bulge once, manhandling, jealousy, virginity, aemond is mean but pussy wipped, tiny lil bit of breeding and wifing up wordcount. 7.2k
a/n. local anime blog goes rogue and writes hotd smut. yes i know okay just look away if you only like anime boys, we will get back to out usually scheduled program soon i swear i sweaarrrrrr dont judge me i have such a fat crush, i sWear i am only doing it to stay sane iT iS MY CALLING ♡
aemond targaryen x fem!reader
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The heavy cover of smoke and dusty sage circles up in slow rounds towards the ceiling, like a flock of vultures. Candles burn low in the heavy air of the room, and the long curtains allow just enough fresh air into the room for the scent not to be stifling. Aemond assesses the whole of his room for a few breaths as the chambermaid softly slips out without another word, and pulls the heavy door to a clicked close behind her. Like a fleeing animal, he muses, unclasping and placing his sword upon his desk. The girl has always fled his company as fast as a mouse in a trap. Not like he’s ever done her wrong. Not like how he knows his older brother continues to do.
A small puff of annoyance comes out of his mouth as he starts to peel back some of the layers of his daywear, and drops them over the back of the chair.
Oh well, at least he’s alone.
His room is cast in a soft, golden glow that melts every want for pretense into the floor. Slowly dripping off him like wax, it seems to reveal a bit more of himself with each heavy drop. He only really notices how tired he is of spending time at court when the time comes to abandon it for the evening. Exhausting, ‘s what it is. The mastering of every trade is the lesser of the evils, but the constant ass-sucking, the looks, the reading of the room— he has no want for it. The Queen assures this is the life of a prince. He protests that it’s a simple lie to play at royalty. And no one gets to mark their own vision correct. No one gets to grab the upper hand. Because that’s the life of a prince.
Aemond finishes undressing most of the heavy, leather garb for a looser fit. Then moves to sit into the chair beside his bed, as always, and lets his eye fall to the sets of books on the desk. Few of them are untouched. For an acquiring of knowledge that is purely showy at best, because he is only a second son. A downright shame. He rolls the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth for a few moments, and instead pours the can of wine, holding onto the cup loosely, with slow sips. If only to have something to do.
The humming of the choir down in the bell tower reaches all the way up to his room, and gives the night an awfully dreary feeling, reminding of winter, of death, of the sniveling of people in the sept and those praying in the darkness. Not that he minds, or cares much— but he knows the sound well. Knows how it is the sign for Aegon to double the size of his own drink, the time for Heleana’s maid to start getting their children ready for the night, the moment his mother the Queen finally stops fretting for long enough to enjoy a moment of peace. And for you… He knows it’s a sound that makes you anxious, reminded that you’re alone for the next hours to come. And he supposes that makes the repeating, melodic chants the sign that he’s about to have company any second too, and for that he guesses he’s grateful.
Grateful for the warning, or for the company, he’s not quite sure. He swishes the burgundy liquid around the cup until he hears the familiar click of the door, and the heavy knock. “Come,” he doesn’t look up from the drink, instead perching it onto his lip.
“Her majesty the Princess, my Prince.” The guard doesn’t usher you inside as much as you waltz in, low dress falling every so softly over your frame as the man spares just a few looks and nods, retreats and closes the door back behind him without another word. Curt, quite unlike the older man. Aemond can only guess you’ve been at this for long enough now for the guard to have made peace with the fact that the Prince doesn’t care. And that whether or not he accepts, you’ll enter anyway.
“You shouldn’t walk around the palace after dark,” your brother says, taking a sip of the wine before his eye ends up falling onto you without wanting to. “You’re the first person to blame when people start spinning rumors.”
“I don’t care about the opinions of ladies in waiting or the small council. I am not the Queen,” you simply reply, pulling your dress up to sit down on his bed beside him, knocking knees. “If you’re worried about rumors, you should hear what they say about you, big brother.” You’re not a bold person, but somehow, when it comes to him… every smart remark is able to fall from you like it’s a game. It amuses Aegon to no end, and even dares bring a smile to your mother’s face from time to time. Any of them expecting an outburst, to be sure, a fiery bite back or a quick smack to the back of your skull. And if you were another of his siblings, he supposes his family would be right. But somehow… it doesn’t bother him as much when it’s you.
Still not enough to have him silenced, though. His lip lifts into a grimace. “Enlighten me.”
“I won’t.”
Your feet are bare on the stone floor and your untied hair sways softly with each movement, and like this you sit by his side late at night, as you’ve taken to doing ever since half of your family moved back to Dragonstone. You’ve always gotten along better with people, were able to ignore your grudges better. An admirable trait, if not a weak one. He searches for something to say back to your resolute refusal, but fails. And lets out a sharp breath, glaring.
Whatever is going on in your tepid, little mind, you slowly place your feet upon his thighs, and shuffle a little closer. And his hands follow to come grab your ankles, half to keep you steady, but the other half in warning. It is a fact of your family that everything exists in pairs. Your mother and Sire for one, your eldest brother and his sister the future Queen… and you seem to have taken that to mean that you and Aemond exist in a pair too.
Always shoving past his barriers like it’s your birthright, with those big, searching eyes and a dopey, genuine smile that seems to belong more to a story book than the stern darkness that is expected of your family. A part of him wants to hate you for it. For being so callous when the rest of them are struggling to stay afloat. Unburdened by responsibilities, or haunted by dramatics. He could tell you he hates you too, but that wouldn’t do him much good. Not with you.
Still trapped by his grip, you stretch your hands to his face and place them to his cheeks, and he groans. “Take your hands off of me.” The irony of your soft skin playing beneath his fingers doesn’t go lost on him. “If I wrestle you to the floor and belt your little ass, you won’t be able to go crying to the Queen for it. I’m warning you.” You don’t listen, or care, before your hands slide to the back of his head and start slowly unbuckling the clasp of his eyepatch.
“Your eye is hurting again, isn’t it? You always get difficult when the chambermaids don’t clear out the smoke.”
He squeezes his hands harder around your little ankles. “You’re not a Maester, don’t speak of things like you know them,” he snaps back, only to move his hands to support your bottom when you push closer and press to slide into his lap for better access. Settling so comfortably against him, he doesn’t move his hands. “Shouldn’t you be learning your rhymes and asking the septa for some hot blankies instead of fussing over me-”
“-If you didn’t make your own little sister fuss over you, maybe I could.” You stubbornly peel the patch away to reveal the brightly glistening stone in the candle light, casting blue flickers all over the room. But he’s too busy looking at you to notice, ignoring the way your weight is pressed upon his lap. He has to ignore it. You tuck the pink little sliver of your tongue between your teeth as you let out a nasally breath, and your lashes cast dark, little shadows into the depths of your eyes. Sure enough, he can feel the relief the second you take a wet towel from the jar to the side and press it to the irritated skin, scar pulling and sore.
You’re awfully gentle with it. With him.
“I told you to take your fucking hands off of me,” he repeats, softer this time, watching as you still and he titls his head back to lean atop the chair, and helping you up onto your knees on his thighs. This way you’re fully above him, and with better access to his face, and you stay so very quiet. Unflinching. You suck your lip into your mouth for a second before releasing it, and then slowly start wiping again.
“You shouldn’t speak to me that way.” If you make a sport out of prodding, he makes a sport out of making blows hit.
“I am your big brother, I’ll speak to you as I wish. And I wish you to know what an insolent little cunt you are.” It’s out before he stops to think about it, and you instantly let him know it lands. By slipping off of his lap with a huff and tossing the rag onto the table, while accidentally knocking over the cup and spilling it over the table. You don’t stop to see the damage you cause as you stomp toward the exit, and he’s up and pulling at your dress before you can get far.
“Get off of me, Aemond,” you screech as he wraps long arms around your waist and you let your entire weight hang into them, squirming to get out. “You’re so annoying! Agh-uhh—Seven Hells!”
He can’t help the grin that slips on as he clenches his jaw, and doubles down. Because that’s what he does. You know it, and he knows it— and you go round in circles. “I could tell your septa you’re a misbehaved brat.”
“You’re a gross pervert, you—Ugh, f- You get your dirty hands off of me.” You spew the words like hot venom in his face when you make it halfway out of his grip and dig your nails into his arm and go to bite at his hand, before he manhandles you to the cold floor and bars you from moving under his hard grip. “Ae- Aemond! You’re the worst!” One arm almost pressing onto your throat, and the other over the soft of your stomach, as he takes a few breaths. Your own equally winded, as you start blinking like crazy to avoid the onslaught of tears that is to follow. “Aemond, let go.”
“Pervert?” he raises his brows now that you’ve stopped struggling, and gives you a look that reads ‘really?’ as underlying question clear as day. One you’re not inclined to answer, because you bite your bottom lip as glare at him as a drop rolls down your temple. You’re hot in the cheeks, hair a mess with the struggle, and your body feels ever so small under him now. Reminds him that he’s been told you’re too small to defend yourself by his mother, his father, and even their uninvolved craven of a brother. But you sure don’t act like it. Even if they are right.
“Just get off of me, you’re heavy.” And there it is. When he invades too far and too aggressively, and you stop pushing back to win it, it’s suddenly like it's a matter of life and death in your mind. When you declare the game is no longer to be won, there’s not a single move that’ll sate you. The signs are easy to read. The way you avert your eyes from him is one of them, and the crinkle between your brows as you stare resolutely at the door like you’re hoping a guard will just burst in to save you. When he doesn’t move quickly enough, you change your tune. “Will you please get off of me? I want to go to bed.”
Aemond lets out a sound between a laugh and a huff, and rights himself a little, but keeps hold of your shoulders pressed to the floor. Making him feel bad is another of those magical traits you have, that he hates about you. Leave it up to his youngest sibling to make his stomach feel heavy and empty, like he hasn’t eaten in days. A hungry beast declaring war at seeing you this way. “Hate me again, do you?” he asks without much fire, and your eyes go hard, and mouth a thin line.
“All you want to do is try to hurt me,” you hiss back when his fingers creep up to wipe the silvery line of tears along your cheek, brushing hair away from your face and taking you in as you are. Before you finally look at him again as the hall outside the door stays quiet. You’ve gone through this same song and dance too many times, cried wolf a bit too often. The guards don’t want to risk disturbing him with that temper, he knows they whisper it behind his back.
But it’s of no difference to you, because if looks could kill, you’d have one brother less by now. You manage to worm your arm out of his grip to wipe your own eyes again, before lowering your tone. “If you hate me so much, feel free to kill me sooner rather than later.” As if he’d let just anyone do what you do. As if he’d be so close to someone he hates. He has only you. Still your chest rises and falls with a heavy motion. “At least I wouldn’t have to marry some ugly, old lord if you did.”
In moments like these, he remembers. You’re a burning wildfire with enough fuel to light up an entire city; and you have no intention of doing any less than the rest of them. But stupid. And ignorant. He gets up and takes his heavy body off of you to see the mark where his arm presses so hard into your collarbones, already starting to bruise. “You’re an idiot,” he simply says, and gets up from the floor and up from you. You stare as he does, but keep your mouth shut. And Aemond swears to himself and averts his eye from you to readjust his pants, with suddenly more interest in the canopy of the bed than the soft, warm body of his little sister. “Get out.”
You get up from the floor with slow movements, too slow for his liking, and he walks back over to grab your arm and hoist you up onto your feet as you cling onto his tunic. But though he wants to keep you as far as he can away from his sanity in moments like these, he doesn’t resist when you linger so close he can count your lashes, and feel your puffs of air on his lips. He keeps your dress sleeve fisted into his hand as you stand up onto your toes and pull his shoulders more down to your level, until you can nearly brush your noses and you press a kiss to his lips. Soft and warm, it makes his heart knot and roll around in his chest, and makes your little hands squeeze around his shoulders. “Aemond…”
He dips again, and connects that smart mouth of yours to his without second thought. Another long kiss is met by a soft rumble of his chest, and he is halfway to leaning into you further when you drop back onto your heels. Leaving his mouth tingling with heat. “Ser Arryc is waiting for me to return to my chambers.” You fix your dress and wait for him to slowly peel his fingers out of the fabric, before sucking hard on your bottom lip as you turn about here and there in sudden nerves. “Well, good eve.”
And then he’s left alone for the night, with the memory of your body pressed under him, withering, fighting, crying. And no one to plead him to stop as he twitches in his pants.
+
As younger siblings dare do, you have an intrinsic ability to set his nerves on end. Born and bred for it even, he’d dare say, as he lets his gaze trail after you. The dragonpit is no place for one of your disposition, and though perhaps the same could be said about Helaena, there’s a few cards laid differently between you both. Youngest sibling, and having grown up without any dragon to speak of. Blame the lack of eggs to distribute to the last of Viserys’ children. Helaena also doesn’t possess the uncanny and endlessly bothering capacity to make his blood sour in his veins with a simple look.
His older sister doesn’t really bestow a care to any of you, while you— care about being loving way too much. He can feel his brows start to pull almost distractingly as you prance around with wide eyes and flit about next in and out of the covered hall. Sunfyre is the current object of your affections, and Aegon’s glittering smirk as he watches you coo and bathe him in compliments has his hands tightening around the handle of his sword where it hangs against his side. “She’ll soon fetch a handsome collection of suitors, don’t you think?” his mother asks innocently, distractedly, as he juts out his lips in slight annoyance. She’s gone from distant and sheltering, to exceedingly fretful these last few years.
Aemond hums a vague noise, but doesn’t bother to look away from your soft shape set against the big beast— and how you shine up like a penny at his oldest brother with compliments. He clicks his tongue, and his mother distantly continues from his side. Out of all the people for you to fawn over… all the beasts to be impressed by— he attempts to focus on the conversation aimed at him, but glares around the field instead. At the guards who feel a bit too comfortable casting glances your way, or a brave squire taking a bit too fond a notice. Every second of it makes his jaw set tighter. “Your grandfather the Hand would rather see her married off sooner than later but— Oh, Aegon,” his mother suddenly speaks with a slight worry.
You’re climbing onto the dragon. No, Aegon -the fool- is making you climb up, putting his grimy hands under your bottom and just about heaving you towards the saddle himself.
“Aegon, stop that,” his mother tries again, starting to make her way down the stage as the eldest turns to look at them both, “your sister can’t be up there by herself. She’ll get hurt-”
“-I’ll get her.” For once he’s glad for his mother’s ever present concern, and hurries past to walk up to you. You, with your hair sun kissed in the evening light, and your cheeks and lips full of mirth as you glance over at your mother first, and then him. His brother’s staring up your dress by the time you’re standing fully on his shoulders, and doesn’t even bother to wipe the grin off his face, tongue peeking out in full enjoyment— Aemond doesn’t have time for this absolute mockery. “Get down,” is all he has to say, for your pretty, flushed face full of excitement to blank. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth as you stare back at him for a few seconds… before slowly starting to slide back toward him.
“Oh, Aemond, don’t be a bother—”
His hand is wrung in his older brother’s tunic before he has time to blink, glaring absolute venom his way, nostrils flaring. Alicent calls for him from a distance, but the plea goes unheeded. The fabrics of your dress are halfway obstructing Aegon’s face as you try to get down, but there’s still plenty of room for a dagger to be fit somewhere into it, a thought rings; one he banishes with some fight. Instead he simply reaches a hand for you to grab, and motions you to get down already. You jump and wobble upon landing, and he grabs your wrist tight when you try to run off. But he still hasn’t stopped glaring at Aegon, to his own surprise, chest rising and falling a bit too quickly to be normal. “You try that again-”
“-and you’ll what, little brother?”
“Don’t fight,” you quickly quip in, tugging softly on his pinky as Aemond’s mouth corners tug up, and he squeezes the fabric tight enough around his own brother’s neck to hurt. He leans in, ignoring your pulling and begging to really tower over Aegon. And Sunfyre gets restless beside them, scaring you even more. “Aemond, please. No harm was done.”
Aegon’s face turns a harsh ruddy color with each passing second, and Aemond’s never enjoyed a sight quite so much. “Shall we see how you do without your eyes, brother?” He releases all at once, just in time enough for their mother to miss how he steps back and gives you a look to keep your lips glued shut. If Aegon wants to tell, he’s at least smart enough to keep quiet, for now. The woman looks between the three of you in worry. But he has no intention of explaining. He couldn’t, really. The absolute blinding rage dies down enough for him to suck the sourness off his tongue and take your hand better, lacing fingers. “I’ll take her back to the keep.”
The Red Keep has never felt smaller as you don’t say anything until you get all the way to your chambers, staring resolutely at the floor. And though his mood hasn’t changed, there’s part — parts of him, that want you to just look his way like you usually do too much of. Your guard is quick to open your door, but stares a little too long when he lingers. “You may go see upon the King, Ser,” he says curtly, and before he can care enough to watch the man leave, closes your door behind you both. “Are you an absolute imbecile, that you’d let Aegon disrespect you in front of everyone?”
“It wasn’t anything to get upset over, he wasn’t hurting me!” you bite back as you do, making him crowd you against the door.
“Oh, no,” he rolls his eye, “he was only about to do much worse later!” You stay pressed between his body and the door as you stare up at him and hold your hands to his chest, both of you breathing hard. But you don’t back down, don’t roll over and apologize. And that bothers him. It shouldn’t, and yet… “Hah,” the sound of it is hard and sharp as he lifts your hands above your head in place with his own. Your lips are a puffy, flushed color, and eyes so focused on him that it momentarily distracts him. Before the feeling of you against him comes back full force, as always. Try as he might, he can’t escape you. “You like that sort of perversion, then?”
“I don’t know what kind of perversion you speak of.” You’re whispering now, long lashes spread over the haunting appearance of you below him. Swallowing hard, chest rising and falling. Hell, the way you look is entirely deviant, but he still leans in despite knowing better. You smell faintly of dragon, but the majority of it is still that soft, sweet innocence that drives him to grab at your chin and force your face to his. And your free hand reaches for his cheek, cold fingers brushing his skin. Your lips brush his as he allows himself to sink just a little lower, letting you moan into his mouth. “Aemond… big brother, please.”
“What do you think you’re playing at?” He lets the soft kisses be placed onto his lips in between the words, resolve growing weaker by the second. How did he get here? And why? Aemond isn’t like Aegon, so why does the sight of you all soft and needy below him have him so hot in the face. Heat burning all along his neck, chest, down to his… cock. He knows very well your poor mother would riot at his taking of your virtue. Because unlike Aegon, she knows he knows better. But you press your mouth against him again, and let your soft, little tongue push against the crack of his mouth with another moan— all while arching against him.
“Haven’t you thought about it?” He’s only half aware his hand is grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you up against his hips as your lips make those little noises against his, lifting you so you can wrap your legs around his glutes. The pressure of your body grinding up against his is entirely wanton, your eyes glossy and lips even glossier. “Taking me to wife?”
“You’re set to marry a lord—”
“I want to marry you. Don’t you want to marry me too? Have me abide by your side, call me ‘yours’?” Your hands slide into his hair, pulling at the hair at the base of his skull just enough to have his tongue push back into a kiss and take the warmth of your mouth as his own. Hotly, with a demanding rumble of his chest you’re kissed- the sweetness of your mouth and warm, squirming tongue against his. It’s intoxicating, setting every hair on his body upright. He grabs your cheeks to keep you in place even when you try to pull back, kissing longer, deeper— like he could die in it. He probably could.
When you’re allowed to pull back you roll your hips against him with a slight smile, and pant against his mouth. “Isn’t that why you love laying on top of me?” His breathing ceases automatically, chest tightening a little more. All he ever hoped was never to hear it out loud. Don’t breathe life into it and it won’t exist, right? See no evil. Your little smile grows a little more as you kiss him again, and he doesn’t pull away, though he should. Your daring tongue moves down his jaw to his neck instead, licking along his pulse as you push. Can’t help but stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, right, a family trait? “Doesn’t that get your cock hard, big brother?”
He takes a stuttered breath as he turns and you cling onto him, walking over to the bed to lay you down and place his large hand over your mouth. “Shut. Up.” You lick the inside of his hand, and he hisses before grabbing your thigh instead, tight enough for your pretty little face to turn into a grimace, and you pull his hair a little harder. Doesn’t matter. He’s nose to nose with you, his own little sister, the one who was always so fond of him it was annoying as sin— as every bit of pretense evaporates by the second. “Do you even know what you’re talking about when you say that?”
“I know what Aegon taught me,” you breathe back against his lips, and it’s this -not any of the other stuff, though that should have done it too- that has his blood turning green with jealousy and has him shutting you up with a kiss, hands sliding up your body over the tight bodice. You’re burning underneath him, lifting your back from the mattress as he crawls further up the bed and over you. You’re so flimsy and small beneath him that it should be laughable. All it does is make his cock so much harder in his pants, as your noises ring above the smacking of mouths and tongues and teeth. Your little fingers press into his shoulders hard and needy. “Mhm-Ae-mond.”
He pulls at the clothing under his hands until you squeak and it rips, one of the too-many layers you’re wearing dropping to the side. He pulls back to stare at you and the way you’re biting your lip, eyes flicking from him to his pants. His cock is chubbed up against the fabric as much as it will allow, and starting to get too tight for his liking, but as you reach out a hand, he smacks it away. Instead he slides a hand under your head to pull your hair and you make a little noise of displeasure, until he leans back in. “When you talk like that it makes me want to smack you around. You understand that?” You whine into the silence, but don’t fight back as he makes your head nod. “You know what I am?”
“B-big brother-”
“Then treat me like it. Open your mouth.” For a few seconds and deep breaths through your nose, you seem to debate it, but whatever you see in his eye eventually has you obliging. He collects a good glob of spit and has it land onto your tongue, and you cry out something unintelligible— but let him slide his thumb into the wet mess of your tongue as your lips get even shinier with all the wetness. Before he can say anything though, you wrap your lips around his digit and whimper. It’s a little too disarming, and his cock twitches hard in his pants. Balls heavy and length straining against the confines. He lets out a little breath, before pulling back out of your suckling mouth to grab himself through his pants. “Shit.”
Your voice sounds so much more high pitched and girly when you speak again, a strange sort of mockery of him over top of you, but it works. Fuck, if it doesn’t. “Please, please, please, big brother.” You whine his name and press tens of little kisses to his mouth, he feels how his balls pull against his body at the display. You get impatient though, start pulling the top half of your dress down to reveal your shoulders and then, with another little noise, your tits. He’s ahead of you though, pulling you down more and leaning in to lock his mouth around your puffy nipple to suck hard, have you curling off the bed with pitiful whimpers. “Big brother, mh-ah- big- br-brother.”
He starts working the drawstrings of his trousers to get them down as quickly as possible too, moving to the other tit and taking as much of it into his mouth to lave his tongue all over it. You sound almost beside yourself with pleasure, kneading at his shoulders and neck like you’re losing your clouded, little mind for him. He gets out of his pants enough to kick them off the rest of the way and lay his much larger body on top of you, back to your face to kiss you with slow, deeper kisses. Then he pulls back, for only a moment of true emotion, to grab your blushy cheeks between his fingers and stare. “Are you still…”
You go limp, and embarrassed and flushed with heat all at once, and squeeze his hips between your thighs like it’s meant to hurt. All it does is push your covered cunt against his rock hard cock and make him take a sharper breath. “Of course I am-” you bite out though, digging your nails into his shoulders a bit harder like you’re just wanting him to keep going. “What- that not good enough for you?”
But he’s quick to shake his head, and press a few spare kisses along your ear, finally being able to let out a little grin at your flustering. “You’ll let me take your maidenhood?” You’re back to whining his name in that overly girly, pouty voice; and he sucks at the shell of your ear for long enough to have you shivering below him. Your little breaths and noises are too fucking cute. And the way you’re pawing at your dress to get it up your body is even cuter. “Beg big brother Aemond to have you. Take you.”
“Just do it already,” you mumble though, and your eyes tear up at the corners.
So fucking cute. He shrugs the eyepatch off too, half for comfort, half at the grabbing of your hands. And pulls back just in time to see how much it pains you to admit it out loud, and rubs his fingers over your wet, pebbled nipples while your eyes flutter and your hands go open and closed at the feeling. He keeps one hand busy by unlacing part of your dress, as the other pinches each nipple until you suck your lip into your mouth and can’t stand it anymore. “Please, big brother? ‘Mond, please-uhh. Please, please do it? W-want you to.”
His lips curl up again at your admission, as he takes you in a few more seconds, grinds his center against your thigh while he’s at it. His cock is leaking enough pre to make a wet spot on his undergarments, red head twitching every few seconds. If he’ll wait any longer he might explode— until you finally give up and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back close to you in total embarrassment. “I saved myself for my big broth-errr—” you whine like a child, burying your face into his neck, “so please! Only wanted my big brother to- I swear. Only love my Aemond.”
This way you don’t see— just what it does. This way you don’t notice it has him hook, line and sinker, and he grunts out loud as he has to grab the base of his cock tight not to shoot hot ropes of cum all over your thighs. He lets you press your tits into him as he shudders over you, and you make a little noise as he suddenly yanks the dress down your body, over your thighs and kicks it aside. “Off, get this off…” You open your teary eyes to see him plant another kiss onto your face, down your neck and to your tits as your chest heaves against him. Your panties are absolutely soaked, and he’d make a crude comment about it if he was any more lucid— but…
He can’t possibly think about anything but sliding his heavy cock inside your little cunt. “Fuck, fuck… you want to fuck me?” His fingers slide over the wet patch as your mouth cracks open a sliver, before peeling them off you with impatient yanks. You nod wildly into it in response, and let him press another kiss onto your mouth to tangle your wet, squirming little tongue with his. It’s vile, the way he thinks about fucking you like this. But it’s all that overtakes him, rutting his leaking cock against that wet little slit. And his fingers have to push in a little to make it halfway into your wet pussy, softly scissoring you apart as your mouth opens more. “You’re dripping all over my hand,” he breathes into your mouth, and you close your eyes and pull your lips into a tight little line.
“‘M sorry.”
“You imbecile.” The dry, non-humoured chuckle is unexpected even to him, as he pulls his wet fingers from between your legs to slip them straight into his mouth and his eye rolls into the back of his skull with a low groan. His fingers go back to rub at that wet slit, as you moan and whine his name like it’s a prayer. His cock bobs heavily between his legs while he fingers you in the heat of the shared bed, and you mumble noises against his skin.
“Aemond, Aemo-ngh.. big, you’re— r-big.” You’re panting, and shivering as his fingers slide in and out and get wetness to drip all the way to your ass, all over the inside of your thighs. Not even to talk about the pride burning along his neck at the way you’re clinging to him like you mean it. Your cunt stretches each time he moves them in and out and spreads them apart, staring at the way your little pussy clenches around his thick, long fingers with each pump. “Big brother—”
“Like that?”
“Mhm-” you’re nodding like a madman, and thighs shaking a little, but your tears are still glistening at the corners of your eyes, “I- f-feels good, bu-but you’re- going so- deep.” He doesn’t tell you that what you’ll be fitting in there in a few seconds will be much bigger, and only lets you drench the bed and wait for you to push back into his hand for that wet ‘pap, pap, pap’ sound and his palm can rub over your little nub. The sapphire in his eye socket makes obnoxious flickers on the walls, that only seem to cheer him on. Not for nothing, watching his baby sister cream all over his fingers like you are. “O-oh,” you say after a while, allowing him to curl his fingers all the way into you and your spongey, perfect spot to make your lower body curl so needily. “I… feel weird, Ae— feels- good- hng.”
Your little pussy is so wet everything’s glossy and needy, and his two fingers can finally slide in and out without much more resistance; though your noises would hardly convince him otherwise. Mewling and whimpering like you’re going to cry any second— it has him rock hard and so fucking sensitive. “I need you to keep that little cunt open for me, okay?” He presses the words into your mouth before rubbing his fingers over your puffy, needy clit; and you make to wrap your thighs around his glutes to keep him right to you— not that he’d go anywhere. “‘ll put it in. Have my cock filling my little sister up.”
He pats his cock against your clit a few times, before nodding at it. “Keep your thighs open, come on.” He doesn’t wait up for you to act as he pushes the leaking tip against your pretty, clenching hole and leans over you to nose at your neck, grabbing at your perky, pretty tits to pebble up your nipples more with each swipe, before kissing you again. He can’t help it, can’t get enough of your moans into his mouth, filling up the room. He pushes in, the slowest he can bare as your hot fucking pussy envelops his cockhead and you moan and whine. “Oh, dear g— goin’ to fuck my little sister for real,” he breathes back, too much to keep it in.
“Ah, ah, ah— Aemond- Aw, oh-hmn- ah.” Your desperate little noises are impossible. Sliding in deeper with each breath, over filling that tiny pouch of your tummy like he was always meant to be inside it. His arms strain not to fuck right into you hard and fast with the way you’re wiggling and curling against him, slick a soft pink when he pulls back to thrust in deeper. “Big bro—ther,” you whine it long and needy, as it has him sliding into you until he bumps up against the walls of your tight fucking cunt. So tight it’s making his balls pull up, entire body so hot it’s almost unbearable. Your one Targaryen claim to heritage. His little sister.
“Love you, big brother, l-love you.”
“Ugh, shit, you’re so tiny. So tight, hot— and wet,” he’s rambling to himself more than to you as he rocks himself into that spongy spot in you, watching your body try to take all of him in. Your eyes are a little lidded, glistening and so pretty and desperate as he pulls back and into you again, hitting your cervix once more. You shudder, and he can’t help but press onto your tummy to make the fit even tighter. It’s too much. Your clenching walls around his big, hard cock— that tight, wet little cunt clinging onto him each time he pulls back, your face as he takes you. “You’re only mine,” he hisses, “only mine, you understand? Gon’ make you my wife and make you carry my heirs. Waiting to give your maidenhood away to the better brother, right?”
“Hng, yes- yes, yes! Please!” You kiss him first, before grinding hard against him and pulling at his hand. “Aemond, Aem— b- I feel- weird-” you admit, smacking your lips and desperately curling your toes against his glutes. “Big bro-ther-agh-h—”
He can’t possibly stop now, frown instantly digging into his brows as you cling to him. He doesn’t bother to even pretend to care as his cock kisses your pussy walls and his white pubic hair rubs over your overly sensitive nub, but you keep on whining for him. “Weird how?” He pulls his face up from your neck only to watch how your cheeks are flushed and your eyes flick all over his face, your tongue jutting out. And suddenly, it doesn’t take you explaining for him to press his rough thumb to your clit and rub rapid circles into it, for you to start going all tense. “This? You want to come for me like a good, little whore?”
You can’t speak. Only clench your eyes shut as he keeps rubbing- and grabs your face with his free hand. “Look at me. Look at me as you get to come on big brother’s cock.” You physically can’t open your eyes through your tears, but he demands it anyway, and watches as you go a bit cross-eyed at the perfect pressure. Your cunny clenches so hard around his cock it hurts, but he doesn’t stop his hips and the loud sound of skin meeting skin. “No one loves you like I do,” he says it like a prayer, whispering into the silence as your mouth drops open and you let out some broken noises, “no one.”
And you desperately claw at his back and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull, your legs tightening around his thighs to get his steady, brutal pace to slow down even a little— but nothing stops your orgasm from crashing over you with a pitched squeak of his name, and your body shuddering so hard beneath him the bed creaks with the motion. Each hard bottoming out in your small cunt having you jerking and moaning a string of unintelligible explicites into his mouth, before he kisses you long and deep. Your tongue can barely do anything except take what he gives, until he fucks you through your orgasm and his balls are so, so hot, his cock twitching every few breaths.
You look perfect as you come down and let him fuck into you even more, pussy like a vice around his too-big-for-you cock. It’s a miracle really, it didn’t happen sooner. Two of a whole. As always, you take and he gives, as is your role in the family.
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