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klausinamarink · 2 months

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based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh.

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along.

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage.

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend.

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.”

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.”

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all.

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

#and now for something silly #as if i don’t always write something silly for steddie #klaus writes #steddie #stranger things

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ghouljams · 5 months

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König is so mean treating you like a toy when he fucks you. Pulling your legs up to his shoulders, your ankles by his ears as he crowds his fat cock into you. He cages you in with strong arms, squeezing your thighs together between his biceps to make you just that much tighter as his hands cup to back of your neck and curl you towards him. He forces you to look him in the eye as he fucks you, tips your head further to watch him bulge out your stomach with his thick cock.

"Look at that," he breathes, "stupid little toy, only good for taking my cock, ja?" You whine, the feeling of his dick stretching you out is already too much but the position lets him force his length so much deeper. He hits something overwhelming and electric in the pit of your stomach, and he keeps hitting it. Over and over, dragging your body down against his thrusts until you can't get a breath in to scream. The pleasure sticks in your chest, compounding as you try to arch your back, try to wiggle away, try to claw at his thick biceps for something to hold onto. Your stomach is tight, tight, tight, as his cock punches that deep spot, so good it hurts. Tears bead at the edges of your vision as you choke on a sob. You can feel yourself gushing around his dick, slick dripping off of you and onto the floor next to his desk. Someone will have to clean that up, with any luck he'll force your head down to do it yourself. Always a caring colonel.

"So wet meine liebe," he chuckles, leaning close to watch your face contort with pleasure, there's something almost pitying in his gaze, patronizing, "taking everything I give you. Not a thought in that silly head of yours. You like being a toy liebchen?"

"Yes," you whine, gasping and moaning as his cock drives into you.

"Yes?" He coos, his voice cold and patronizing. He fucks your approval out of you, your 'yes' mixing with pleas and screams as you claw at his skin for some release on the pressure building inside of you. Something snaps suddenly, some valve breaks and you gush around him, squirting against his stomach and clenching tight around his cock. He groans, a breathless chuckle dripping from his lips as your slick smears your thighs. "There it is," he grins, switching his grip to hold you by the throat, pinning you to his desk, "pretty baby, my stupid pretty baby."

You scratch at his wrist as he pound into you, the angle just slightly kinder. The friction of his cock in and out of your poor abused cunt only builds heat in your stomach again. You can't do more than moan as König's hips slap against your ass, his pace growing faster as he chases his own high. His words turn to growls and grunts, until he snaps his hips tight against yours and groans low, his hot cum spilling inside you. You whine, feel his grip change to rub his thumb against your cheek before patting it, affectionate but rough enough to keep you in the scene.

He clicks his tongue, "What a mess you've made liebchen, I thought I trained you better than that."

"I'm sorry colonel," you hum, your legs shaking and your hips aching when he lets them drop to the floor.

"You're sorry?" His thumb rubs against your lips, fingers firm under your chin as he pulls you to sit up, "Then you'd better apologize properly."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #oc: fetch #könig x oc #f!reader #x f!reader #female reader #demon!darlings au

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biteofcherry · 1 year

Note

Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?

Nesting

Not an inch away

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;

~ * ~

You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.

A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.

She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.

He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.

It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.

You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.

Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.

You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?

The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.

With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.

Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.

Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.

But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.

Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.

"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.

At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.

Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?

Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?

Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.

Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.

Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.

You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.

Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.

You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.

So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.

You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.

A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.

Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.

The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.

Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.

You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.

But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.

Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.

You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.

The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.

He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.

He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.

"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.

You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.

"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.

"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.

"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."

"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.

You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.

"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."

You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.

"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."

You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.

Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.

"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.

His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.

"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.

Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.

He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.

"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.

Steve sighs.

"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."

His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.

Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.

"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.

"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.

"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-

"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."

Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.

"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."

"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."

Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.

"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"

"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.

"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.

He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.

"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.

"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mafia!Steve Rogers #mafia!steve x reader #mafia steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #steve rogers x you #nesting #steve rogers smut

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subbmissivesuccubus · 6 months

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No secrets around here ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for 1K followers <3 <3 <3 I am undeserving but very appreciative. I am working on Bully Part 3 but please have this one shot as a token of my love.

It's a story suggested by my patron! If you'd like to suggest prompts for me to write, please consider checking out my patreon (link in bio) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary : Satoru and Suguru find out that their sweet, seemingly innocent girlfriend writes smutty fanfiction. They decide to make her fantasies come true while also making sure to teach her that keeping secrets from them have consequences <3

Contains : Fem reader. Established relationship. Degradation. Threesome M/M/F. Gojo and Geto being mean but with love. A bit meta.

“Dude- Suguru- SUGURU!”

“Stop yelling, Satoru.” The raven-haired man whined, rubbing a hand over his face as he was barely awake, “You better be dying if you’re calling me at 3 in the morning.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll wanna hear what I say.”

“Get to the point.”

“Ok, so you know how every time we visit our cutie, she’s super protective of her phone?”

“…Yeah.”

“And how she immediately shuts her laptop close if we walk in?”

“…Yeah.”

“I found out why. I just sent you a link.”

Satoru hung up and Suguru groaned, looking his phone annoyance before the ding of a message received rang out. He raised an eyebrow as he read the message, the link opening upto a website called…tumblr? He was aware of the site but it never interested him enough to truly put any effort into finding out more about it. He also knew of the concept of fanfiction (thanks to a certain someone) and knew that Tumblr had a lot of creators posting their fanmade content.

But he had no idea it was…something like this.

Reader is being a brat and gets put in her place – Fem Reader X Demon Slayer men.

Where the men of One-Piece love to cum <3

Dick headcannons, a.k.a. who among the Honkai men are packing~

Suguru scoffed as he scrolled down the posts, surprised at how lewd this author was. Their writing was filthy and degenerate yet written fairly well. If he wasn’t so sleepy, Suguru was sure he could jerk off to a story or two. The comments under the posts were just as feral, people going crazy over the fanfictions, often proclaiming their desire to be with these…fictional men? He didn’t quite understand it but who was he to judge.

He paused as he read the title of a post, letting out a hum as the title hit a bit close to home.

Reader gets pounded roughly by her two boyfriends.

It was a post with thousands of notes which got Suguru curious. He clicked on the tag labelled #two boyfriends and was surprised to see several stories written by the author of the reader having two lovers and their sexual escapades together:

Reader gets both her holes stuffed with cock. Or the two boyfriends compete to see who can get her to squirt first. Reader is spanked silly and can’t sit properly for days. As punishment, the two boyfriends overstimulate the reader for hours, making her cum over and over again even as she begged them to stop.

The list went on and on and on, making the blood rush to Suguru’s cheeks at how raw and filthy and…desperate these fanfictions were.

His phone dinged, a message from Satoru which reminded the black-haired man of how he wound up here to begin with. So there are some smutty fiction online, but what does it have to do with you? He could only come up with one conclusion but…that couldn’t be it. Right?

Satoru <3 : Did you see all the two boyfriends fics?

Me : Yeah. You’re not saying that…she wrote all of this, are you?

Suguru waited with bated breath as the three dots danced on his screen, Satoru typing out the answer. You were someone who refused to even curse in daily conversation! There was no way… He choked as he got a response, Satoru simply saying:

What do you say we show our baby how much better her real boyfriends are?

~~~~~

“Boys!” you whined as Suguru and Satoru stuck close to you, one on either side, “I’m trying to cook here!” “We’re not stopping you!” Satoru said with a pout as he placed his cheek on top of your hair, “We just wanna be close to our baby. Is that so bad?” “Exactly.” Suguru purred as a hand came up to wrap around your waist, pressing himself close to you, “Is loving you such a crime?”

You rolled your eyes at their theatrics. One thing worse than having one dramatic boyfriend would be having two. Not that you were complaining, of course. How on Earth could you be upset over having the two most powerful sorcerers be your lovers? It sometimes felt like a dream- that these two had fallen in love with you and were over by your place for a domestic night of homecooked food and movies. They were more clingy than usual, a hand or lips always on your body at all times. You caught them exchanging glances with each other once in awhile but you simply ignored it. It wasn’t the first time your men had this telepathic communication going on between them. As long as they weren’t planning on pranking you, you decided to simply focus on the meal you were cooking.

“So, babe,” Satoru purred as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You’re on Tumblr a lot, right?”

You scoffed, “You know I am. Why’d you ask? You finally wanna join?”

“I sure do!” he responded, “And if you had told me about all the porn that was on that website, I would have joined sooner.”

“Porn?” you repeated, confused, “What are you talking about? It doesn’t allow-”

“All of that smutty fanfiction- I was up all night reading them!”

You froze, hoping that the two of them didn’t notice. “Oh, uh, yeah there’s a lot of that.”

“And, you know, we found this…writer.” Suguru said, his voice dripping like honey as his hand ran up and down your waist, “Who writes the most…filthy things. Degradation, spankings, brat taming, not to mention threesomes between two men and a woman. Kind of similar to us, right?”

You gulped, trying to focus on your food even though your mind was running a mile. Did they know? How did they find out? You were so careful of your things! You always made sure to have an eye on your phone and laptop so how did they…

“Well, only the threesome parts.” Satoru said, “We’re not nearly as kinky as the people in those stories. We could be, of course, but we wouldn’t want to scare our baby with how…intense we can be, right?”

“Of course.” Suguru purred, leaning forward to kiss your temple, his lips soft against your skin, “Our sweet princess is so innocent and vanilla. How on Earth can we treat her like the girls in those smutty, dirty stories? We have to make love to her like the Queen she is. There’s no way our baby would like to be punished or have her pussy filled until she’s bred.”

“Exactly.” Satoru said, noting the way your breathing was quickening, smiling as he saw your ears turn red, “Unless…there’s something she’s not telling us.” You gasped as his hand trailed down your back, making you shiver before it landed on your ass. You mewled as he grabbed a cheek harshly, his fingers digging into your plush skin, both of them so close to you that you could feel their hot breath against your burning face.

“So, sweetheart.” Suguru said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned off the heat of the stove, gently taking your utensils out of your hands, “Anything you’d like to share?”

You gulped, Satoru squeezing you greedily and making it difficult for you to form sentences, “H-How did you find out?”

“Well, I might have peeked at your phone when you left it unlocked yesterday.” Satoru confessed, “I wasn’t planning on looking but when I saw the notification of someone begging you to write more of your threesome content, well, curiosity got the better of me.”

“Our baby has such naughty fantasies,” Suguru said, not giving you a chance to respond “But she kept it all to herself like a bad little girl. Why didn’t you tell us?” he leaned down to nibble at your ear, loving the cute yelp you let out, “Did you think we’d judge you?”

“I- I don’t know…” you mumbled, face so red it felt like steam was coming out your ears, “It’s…embarrassing- ah!” Suguru moved downwards and kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the sensitive patch of your skin, making you cry out loud. Satoru pouted before he let go of your ass, only to swing his hand down and give your butt a sharp slap, making you yell loudly.

“We could have been fucking you like the dirty slut you are, but instead, we held ourselves back because we didn’t want to scare you off.” Satoru growled, his hand making its way to your hair, grabbing a handful before he pulled harshly. You gasped as your head was tossed back, your boyfriends face looking down on you as his grip on your hair continued to be tight and unforgiving.

“Every time we fuck you- we’ve wanted to go wild.” Suguru confessed, his large hand slipping into your shirt, making you shiver as he touched your bare skin, “So next time, just be honest and save us the trouble, hmm?”

“You’re going to make it up to us.” Satoru said, leaning down to kiss your lips, a quick peck before he pulled away, a dark look in his eyes, “Get ready. We’re making those fantasies come true.”

~~~~~

Your hands trembled, instinctively tugging at the handcuffs that held you tight against the headboard. The cool metal dug into your skin, showing no signs of letting up. Hands handcuffed above your bed, naked as the day you were born, you were at the mercy of your two men and they made sure of that.

Suguru giggled at your cute little yelp as he increased the speed of the vibrator, his grip of the wand tightening before he pressed it down harder on your clit. You screamed around Satoru’s cock, the man’s dick shoved down your throat, making you gag. He was practically straddling your head, knees on either side of your shoulders while Suguru sat between your spread legs, their eyes greedily taking in your nakedness.

“Yeah? You like that?” Satoru asked, looking down at you with a teasing grin on his face, sweat dripping down his brow. He was naked, veins throbbing in his arms as he gripped onto the headboard tightly, rolling his hips into your face, groaning at the sensation of you trying your best to take his fat dick. “You like that vibrator on your slutty little pussy, don’t you? Hmm? Like having my cock down your throat?” he asked, pausing his thrusting for a second to fully press his cock deep inside you, laughing as he felt you gag loudly around him.

“Oh, she loves it~” Suguru purred, dick aching in his boxers (wearing nothing but his underwear) as he ground the wand vibrator against you, mercilessly attacking your clit, “Her cunt is dripping~”

“Poor baby~ You must be so pent up since we’ve been making love to you like you were a princess. Guess we have to fuck you like a whore, hmm?” Satoru asked, biting his lower lip as he started thrusting into your mouth again. His muscles tensed, tossing his head back to moan as your sweet little tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, his heavy balls pressing against your chin every time he thrust.

“Stay. Still.” Suguru said with a click of his tongue as one arm gripped onto your knee tightly, the other still torturing you with the vibrator, “Keep moving your legs like that and I’ll punish you.”

You whined, your sounds taken by Satoru’s member, your body getting overstimulated. With a fat cock down your throat and Suguru playing with your pussy, you couldn’t help but start trembling, trying to push your legs together to give yourself a break from the onslaught on your cunt- but Suguru was having none of that.

He ignored your yelp as he pulled the vibrator away, taking away your pleasure so suddenly. But you barely had time to process that as he raised his hand and brought it down on your pussy, giving it a harsh, tight slap. You screamed from the pain, the vibrations of your mouth making Satoru moan as Suguru started spanking your pussy again and again. Slap after slap rained down on your cunt, the raven-haired man holding one leg tightly by the ankle while pushing away the other with his knee, truly keeping you spread as he spanked your pussy.

Your whole body writhed from the pain, the stinging sensation of Suguru marking your puffy pussy lips red. Your hands struggled against the handcuffs even more, your torso tossing and turning, Satoru giving you some mercy as he gently pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“Sorry! Fuck- I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your gasps and coughs, and crying as Suguru slapped your cunt so hard it made you dizzy for a second, “Please- no more!”.

“No more what?”

“No more spankings- P-Please! Please don’t s-spank my p-pussy!” you begged, ears turning red from the embarrassment. You heard Satoru giggle above you, the man clearly more sadistic than you ever imagined as he tugged at his member, enjoying the scene of his best friend breaking you down perfectly. Even him touching himself right in front of you was torturous, your eyes homing in on the precum dripping out of his red tip, his cock covered in your saliva.

“I thought you liked it, baby.” Suguru said, taking some mercy on you as he gently rubbed your cunt, easing some of the burn, “Your characters get their pussy’s spanked so often. Don’t you feel bad for them if it hurts so much?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You sobbed, “It hurts- fuck- but it hurts so good!”

“Fuuuck Baby!” Satoru groaned, gripping the base of his cock tightly, his face red and excited, “Almost came from that~ I love seeing you look so pathetic for us.”

You whimpered, turning your face to feel Satoru’s warmth as he gently wiped a tear away from your eye. Suguru chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss to your cunt, your skin hot against his lips. Your back arched as he ran his tongue up your pussy, the man groaning as he tasted your slick, drinking you down like a drug.

“Oh~ I want a taste of that pussy too~” Satoru purred before he changed his position. Your eyes widened as he turned around, adjusting himself so his cock was once again over your face only now, he was facing your pussy in a classic 69. “Open up, princess.” He said, smirking as he pushed his cock into your mouth just as you opened your lips, “Suck my cock while we- oh yeah- play with this pussy~”

Satoru grabbed the back of your thighs, holding onto you tightly as he dipped his head between your legs, Suguru moving out of the way so his friend could mouth at your pussy. You squealed around his cock, the man already starting to thrust as he wrapped his lips around your clit before he sucked harshly. “Mmmph- fuck yes~” he moaned, lightly picking up the pace as he once again started fucking your throat, “This pussy is so fucking tasty~”

He opened his mouth wide and started flicking his tongue on your clit, letting out a lewd sound as he tortured your sensitive bud with his tongue. Not one to sit idly by, Suguru allowed his friend to tongue your cunt while he gently slid a finger inside you.

“Look at that. My finger went in so easily, baby.” Suguru said as he gently thrust the finger in and out of you, “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”

You whined around Satoru’s cock, unable to respond. But they understood. Suguru slid a second finger inside you, the slick sound of your cunt parting for him echoing through the air lewdly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers inside you just right, pussy gushing from the sensation. Satoru was still licking at your clit, giving your bud the occasional nibble to keep you on edge.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Suguru asked as he watched Satoru lick you up, his own fingers drenched, your juices dripping down, “Cock in your mouth as we play with your pussy like you’re our little toy~ Our sweet little fuck toy we can use?”

Your toes curled and your muscles tensed, opening your throat up as much as possible as Satoru mercilessly face fucked you, his balls slapping against you as he chased his pleasure. The metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your fingers clenching around nothing as you were driven closer and closer to your orgasm.

You were so close you could taste it, your mind descending into nothing but pleasure, the two men perfectly breaking you down into the slut they know you are. You fantasised about them as you wrote your fanfiction and for it to actually be coming true- you didn’t know how to handle it.

You were so close- so close! Your body tightened and your pussy clenched around Suguru’s fingers, the familiar sensation of an orgasm making itself known. You already knew this would be one of the strongest climaxes you’d experience and it almost scared you. But you were ready. You wanted this. You needed this. You needed them!

Your moans picked up the pace, getting louder and louder around Satoru’s cock, still obediently sucking him off as your body trembled. You were gonna cum! Cumming- cumming-

Only for them to stop.

You let out a scream as Satoru pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of them able to hear your shouts. You arched off the bed, your body trembling from the sudden absence of pleasure, your legs kicking at the mattress like a toddler as you writhed on the bed.

“Why? Why- I was so close- so close!” you sobbed, tugging at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to touch yourself, only for it to be futile.

“Aww, poor princess.” Satoru cooed, kneeling over you still, his cock dripping your saliva back onto his face lewdly, “did you really think it would be that easy?”

“We’re going to edge you all night.” Suguru said, finally undoing his boxers before pushing it off, getting completely naked, “It’s your punishment for keeping your sluttiness a secret from us.”

You could barely muster up a protest as you were distracted by Suguru’s cock. His cock was just as beautiful as Satoru’s- long, thick and oh so delicious. He took your breath away everytime he got inside you, his skills rendering you a whining mess.

“If you try and cum without us knowing,” Suguru said, knowing your body like the back of your hand and well aware that you were close to your orgasm, “You’re going to be in a world of pain. Now come on. Beg for it.” He started teasingly slapping your pussy with his member, each strike making you twitch, “You know how to beg, right? Your characters beg so sweetly in your stories- I’m sure you can do it too~”

You gulped, mouth drooling and pussy trembling, their hard cocks right in front of you but refusing to get inside you. “P-Please.” You pleaded, feeling a rush of shame overcome you by uttering the word. “Do better than that.” Suguru said, his hand now on his member and lightly stroking it, showing you what you were missing out on. “I- Fuck- I need you! Both of you!” you said desperately. “Keep going~” Satoru purred, his tip just a hairs breath away from your lips, also close to orgasm, “what do you need?” “I need- fuck- I need your c-cocks!” you begged, tears in your eyes as you shamelessly conveyed your desires, “I need you inside me- I need you to fuck me!” “Good girl.” Suguru said, groaning as he finally- finally- started to push inside you, “And remember. No cumming.”

You tossed your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Suguru started spreading you apart, inch after inch burying into your sopping cunt. It was a delicious sensation, his cock stretching you out wonderfully, his thick cock giving you a nice burn. Suguru hissed as his dick was enveloped in your tight wetness, the texture of your pussy walls hugging it perfectly. His balls clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last long- the feeling of finally being able to treat you like the kinky slut you were driving him to the edge. They don’t call him a pleasure dom for nothing.

Without even saying anything, Satoru took advantage of your open mouth to jam his dick back inside your mouth, laughing at the surprised yelp and loud gag you let out. “I’m close baby~” he moaned as he was surrounded by your addicting heat again, “Make sure you drink it all when I cum down this slutty mouth pussy~”

They both started to fuck you mercilessly at once. And all you could do was lie there and take it. Suguru made you wrap your legs against his waist, leaning into you as he started pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you each time he thrust into you. Your pussy was so wet and hot- the sensation like a drug as he pounded you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck- I love this fucking pussy!” he groaned, tossing his head back as he mercilessly pounded you, chasing his pleasure, “So perfect for us- so greedy and desperate- want to fucking ruin you!”

“Mmm~ I can’t wait to fuck this slutty cunt~” Satoru said between moans, fucking down on your mouth as a hand came up to spread apart your pussy lips, giving him a perfect view of Suguru fucking your hole. “Pass me the vibrator, will you?”

You yelped, knowing exactly what he had planned as Satoru got a hold of the vibrator, switched it on before he placed it against your clit. You screamed around his cock, body thrashing at the overstimulation. The toy rubbed against your clit, the speed on the highest setting, making your vision blurry as he assaulted your sensitive bud.

“Fuck- oh yeah- that’s fucking great!” Suguru moaned, the vibration of the toy giving him added pleasure as well, “she tightened around me so much- fuck- slutty little pussy!”

You were in heaven and hell. The two men were using you in such a filthy fashion, making your body tremble from the intense pleasure. Suguru was fucking you so perfectly, his cock hitting your g-spot every time he thrust into you, your pleasure heightened by Satoru playing with your clit. He’d use the toy or sometimes even lean down to lick at your clit again, his hair brushing against Suguru’s abdomen every time he thrust forward. They were both so desperate and horny for you and it was amazing.

But, every time you were close, they’d stop.

You didn’t even need to say it- your moans and your body language was enough for them to know when you were about to cum and every time, without fail, they’d ruin your orgasm. Suguru would pull out and Satoru would stop playing with your clit, opting to slap your pussy and call it a ‘bad cunt’ as he took your climax away from you. Suguru once pinched your clit so harshly you swore you blacked out. Once they thought you weren’t going to cum, they’d get back into it.

“Oh baby!” Satoru moaned, finally reaching his climax. He forgoed the toy and instead focused on fucking your face, wanting to cum, “I’m close! Yes! Yes! Oh you naughty little minx! We’re going to have so much fucking fun with you!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you got pounded from both ends- your jaw beyond sore. With a few more thrusts, Satoru finally came. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly, his cock lodged as deep as it could go inside you. He started to cum down your throat, giving you no choice but to drink it all up. You could feel his balls clench against you as he came, his hot seed pouring down your throat, warming you up from the inside.

“Ohhh yesss!” Satoru moaned, his body shuddering as he gently thrust his hips, milking his balls of every drop, “That’s it- oh yes~ That’s a good slut~”

You gagged around him, struggling to breathe and to drink down his cum, happy to have given him pleasure but distracted by Suguru still pounding into you. You were waiting for Satoru to get off of you and give your jaw some peace but…

He once again got his face close to your pussy, resting his elbows on the mattress and his chin on his hands as he stared like a pervert as Suguru fucking your cunt.

“Enjoying the show?” Suguru asked with a laugh, his body running a bit hotter at Satoru staring.

“Mmhmm,” Satoru said with a smile before he addressed you, “Keep cockwarming me, baby. Get me hard again so I can fuck this pussy next~”

Oh. Oh God.

“Fuck- I’m close!” Suguru groaned through gritted teeth, “And she’s close too- I can feel it!”

“Yeah?” Satoru asked, rolling his hips in a circle as he leisurely enjoyed your mouth like it was a fleshlight, “Should we let her cum? She’s been such a good girl for us.”

You whined around him, feeling like this entire night was you whining, trying your best to beg around Satoru’s cock in your mouth. You could feel him grow harder inside you, the sadist loving the fact that he made you so pathetic.

“Nah.” Suguru said, sweating as he pounded you mercilessly, “Not yet.”

“You hear that, baby?” Satoru asked, “You better not cum~”

You sobbed, tears pouring down your cheeks as they decided to continue torturing you.

“You gonna cum inside her?” Satoru asked his friend, knowing him well enough to know he was about to cum. “Fuck- I want to so fucking badly but- I don’t think she deserves it yet!” “Awww, the poor thing. She has such a huge breeding kink too!” “I know. Fuck- I’d love to dump inside this cunt and breed her but- fuck- I still think she needs to learn her lesson! Naughty little sluts who keep things from their boyfriends gets fucking punished! Oh fuck- yes- cumming- I’m cumming!”

With a shout, once again denying you your orgasm, Suguru quickly pulled out of you with the intention of finishing on you. “Fuck- Satoru!” Suguru moaned as the white haired man suddenly grabbed his member and started jerking him off. Satoru laughed at Suguru’s moans, his hand almost a blur as he jacked off his best friend, aiming the tip right at your pussy. In a matter of seconds, Suguru let out a loud moan as he came, tossing his head back as the pleasure hit him like a truck. He trembled as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock, his balls clenching with each pump as he came all over your pussy. He stained your cunt white, making you whine as all of that cum wasn’t pumped inside you.

“Oh~ Look at all that cum on this pretty pussy~” Satoru moaned, letting go of Suguru to instead pet at your pussy, his fingers rubbing the cum into your skin before he collected a bit of it on his fingers to shove inside you. You gasped, body still on edge, your mind a mess of pleasure and humiliation as Satoru stuffed his friends cum into your pussy. He took some mercy on you and pulled his cock out of your mouth, enjoying your gasps and moans as you took in deep breaths, choking on your own spit as he got off of you.

“Please!” you begged, crying and you voice hoarse, “Please- Please let me cum! I need it! I’ll do anything!”

“Shhhh, relax, princess.” Suguru cooed as he and Satoru switched places, the white haired man settling between your legs with his cock hard once more, eager to fuck your cunt. You whimpered and cried as Suguru lied down next to you, his dick still hard and ready for more as he leaned down to kiss you, a sweet moment among all the depravity.

His hand gripped a breast, squeezing your boob as he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth and making your body tingle from the sensation. He finally parted just as Satoru slipped his dick inside you, smiling as he watched your eyes water and your jaw drop from the sensation.

“Don’t start crying already, baby.” Suguru said, watching as your body started to bounce up and down from Satoru’s thrusts, Satoru immediately fucking you in a fast pace, “We’ve only just begun~”

#subby writes #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto smut

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jenosbigtoe · 6 months

Text

na jaemin x catgirl!reader (M)

minors dni

summary: jaemin finds a stray catgirl and takes her under his wing.

warnings: hybrid au. lots of fluff :3, bratty!reader, dom!jaemin, big dick nana, loss of virginity, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, mild squirting, kitty eating (lmao), fingering, fellatio, praise kink

word count: 6.0k

a/n: jaemin is the biggest cat person i know (besides me duh) so why wouldn’t i write a fic about him being down bad for his lil catgirl?

jesus fuck this was long and took forever 😪 sorry it's posted later than promised but at least it's longer than my last two fics combined! lmk if you want to see more of jaem and his catgirl bc im really liking this au

“fuck this shit man.” jaemin was so sick of his boring ass 9-5 office job. every single day he deals with incompetent coworkers (how did they even graduate high school), entitled clients, and a shitty boss that wanted to put all the work on him because he knew jaemin was a good employee.

jaemin took out a pack of newports and lit a cigarette, leaning his head back against the alleyway wall and sighing in frustration. the cold winter air bit at his nose but he didn’t care. this was his one time to really relax right after work. as he was taking a long drag, a rustle from the dark alley caught his attention.

he paused. “who’s there?” jaemin squinted his eyes against the pitch black darkness. this was a shady part of town and jaemin knew better than to be hiding out in the back alleyway of a sketchy convenience store but he also had a reputation to hold up. couldn’t have anyone from his work or person life finding out the social butterfly nana was a chainsmoker and hated his life.

against his better judgement, he put out the lit cigarette and moved closer to the rustling noise. turning his phone flashlight on, he didn’t know what he’d expect to see. maybe a raccoon or a stray dog.

he certainly didn’t expect to see the sweetest little thing hiding and shivering under a dirty cardboard box. there you were, hair matted, skin covered in grime, thin clothes in tatters, brown ears pressed flat against your head. and despite your disheveled appearance, jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing he’s ever seen. as his phone flash shined directly on you, you jumped in fright, body immediately tensing up in alarm. you bared your teeth at him and hissed, claws extended.

“woah hey i’m not gonna hurt you,” jaemin back away slowly, putting his hands up.

“fuck off,” you gritted at him, sharp teeth still showing.

“what are you doing out here like this? it’s freezing and you don’t have any clothes. where’s your owner?” jaemin crouched to the ground, trying to inch closer to you but you tucked yourself smaller into the corner.

“don’t have an owner. don’t need one. m perfectly fine by myself. now leave me alone, human,” you growled at him.

jaemin attempted to reach a hand out to you but you swatted at him and hissed, leaving a small gash on his hand.

“do you have a name, kitty?” jaemin asked softly.

you continued to glare at him. “leave me alone.”

jaemin knew it would be really difficult to get you to open up but he had such a soft spot for animals, especially strays. and he couldn’t just leave you alone looking like this in the winter cold.

“kitty, it’s way too cold out for you to be here without any proper clothes.” jaemin stated. “my name is na jaemin and i only want to help you, okay?”

your body was still tensed in suspension of this stranger but as he continued to get closer to you, you got a whiff of his scent. nose scrunched up cutely, you sniffed up at the air, needing more of that delicious scent. god he smelled so so good. despite the bitter cold of the winter air, the scent of this stranger left your body feeling warm and fuzzy inside, slowly melting your tough exterior. but he was still a stranger, one you had no idea the intentions of, and you didn’t want to take any risks.

“stop patronizing me and just leave me alone, stupid human.” the longer you were around him, the less alarmed your body felt, but you still kept your guard up around this delicious smelling stranger. and jaemin didn’t miss how your body language slowly got less tense the longer you were around him.

jaemin got up slowly, deep in thought. “i’ll be right back, kitty.”

he disappeared around the corner of the alley again, leaving you feeling slightly empty. stupid, you thought. he’s just a stranger. of course he’d leave like everyone else. you knew that rationally but your body was acting so weird around this stranger.

you continued to sit there, huddled beneath the cardboard and desperately seeking warm, when the stranger came back, this time with a steaming cup and a hotdog.

“here, baby,” jaemin cooed at you, handing you the cup of hot chocolate and hotdog. for some reason, your belly felt so warm at his calling you baby. “you must be so hungry.”

you eyed the food suspiciously. “why are you being so nice to me, human? you don’t even know me. you don’t even know my name.”

“doesn’t matter to me. nobody, hybrid or human or animal, deserves to be shivering in the winter cold like this,” jaemin stated with a serious look on his face.

you cautiously grabbed the food and drink from his hand before scarfing down the hotdog in record time and chugging the hot chocolate, some cutely dripping down your chin. your brown ears twitched in happiness. god jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing.

“y/n. it’s y/n,” you mumbled at him. “thank you for the food.”

“y/n, such a cute name for the cutest kitty,” jaemin smiled brightly.

he reached one hand out slowly to brush your hair out of your face. you just about jumped at the contact, but as he scratched that sweet spot behind your ears, your tail swished in happiness and you started to pur in delight. you closed your eyes in bliss and leaned slightly into the contact.

“good girl. such a sweet girl. i know you were so frightened, all alone in this winter cold. but nana’s got you now, m’kay?” jaemin cooed at you.

your body and brain were melting. his touch felt so so good, it’s been so long since you’ve been pet like this. and his smell, god you’ve never smelled anything so delicious before.

“y/n, i know we just met and i know you must so scared right now. but i can’t just leave you like this in the cold. please, let me just take you back to my apartment and you can stay there for a couple nights. i have an extra room so don’t worry about needing to sleep with me. i’ll give you a fresh set of clothes and feed you while you’re there. but i can’t just leave you here in good faith.” jaemin gave you a sincere look, practically pleading for you to come back with him.

your tail stop swishing and you scrunched your little nose in heavy thought. on one hand, you knew next to nothing about this man and he wanted you to stay at his place? but a warm bed and a fresh set of clothes and hot meals sounded so so good… and how much harm could this good smelling stranger even do to you… the rational part of your brain was telling you no, this stranger couldn’t be trusted. who knows what he’d do to you once you were in his territory? but your body was saying otherwise, he made you feel so good inside and he could take care of you even for just a few days.

you gave a long hard stare before replying. “okay. just for a little bit,” you whispered softly, still scared out of your mind.

jaemin used his beefy arms to support your weight as he helped you stand up on shaky legs. he wrapped his winter coat around your shivering body, cooing sweet reassuring words into your ear. his scent was absolutely intoxicating to you, leaving your mind fuzzy and full of him.

as soon as you stepped into his apartment, you were greeted with three balls of white fur bombarding your legs. one licked and nibbled on your toes, another purred and rubbed itself against your legs, and the other circled around your legs, tail swishing happily. you squealed at the sight, such cute kitties!

“ah ah lucy, luke, and luna, let’s not scare our guest, okay babies?” he spoke to them in such a gentle tone, it had your heart melting.

“n-no, s’okay, nana. i love kittens,” you reached down to pet them and give them chin rubs. all three kittens cuddled close to your body and let out loud purs. jaemin’s heart fluttered at your usage of his nickname.

“what are their names?” you asked.

“this one is lucy, this one is luke, and this one is luna. i got them a few months ago. i didn’t want to separate these three siblings so i just adopted all three. aren’t they just the sweetest things?”

you nodded, letting out purs alongside the kittens. you would never tell him this now but you also thought jaemin was so sweet.

he crouched down to pet the kitties alongside you. “they must really like you. they’re not usually this sweet and welcoming to guests. guess they recognize a kitten just as cute as them too.”

you pretended to not notice his last comment but your red face and happily swishing tail gave away your happiness.

“y/n, let’s get you into the bath and some clean clothes, hm? i know you must be dying to get this grime off you,” jaemin gently whispered, still petting the three purring kitties on the floor alongside you.

you paused, ears twitching. “bath?”

“yeah, a bath,” jaemin replied, looking up at you to gauge how you felt. your nose was scrunched up cutely in disgust at the mere idea of a bath.

“don’t need one. can lick myself clean,” you grumbled, pouting slightly.

you stopped petting the kitties, who seemed very displeased at the lack of attention you were giving them, and finally took a look around his apartment. the unfamiliar environment made you slightly uneasy but somehow you knew you were going to be safe. everything just smelled so strongly of him, it made your head dizzy and belly warm.

“kitty, you need to take a bath. i’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable now but you will feel so much better after,” jaemin gently reassured you.

you shook your head, cheeks puffed and ears pinned back. “no. don’t want.”

jaemin sighed, rising to his feet. “c’mon baby. let me run a warm bath for you. i promise it will feel so good.”

he tried taking your hand but you hissed and swatted at him. “no. away.” you backed yourself into a corner.

jaemin gave you a defeated look before disappearing around a corner. you sat back down to cuddle and play with the kittens.

jaemin came back to see you playing with the kittens so happily. it seemed they really helped make you feel comfortable in this foreign environment and his cats liked you so much already.

“kitty, come with me,” he prodded at your arm.

you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “where are you taking me?”

“you’ll see.” jaemin decided to take it upon himself to carry you in his arms bridal style. his strength had you flinging around like a ragdoll, making you very angry.

you started clawing and biting at his arms, kicking your legs and screaming wildly. “let me go! let me go! hey!”

he brought you into a steamy bathroom and sat you on the ledge of the bubbly bathtub. he used his strength to pin your hips in place as he kneeled and situated himself between your legs.

“baby, i know you don’t want to take a bath but you need to wash this dirt off yourself. just listen to nana, hm?” he stared deep into your eyes with a serious look on his face, causing you to shift around in unease.

you broke eye contact and looked away, pouting deeply. “fine. you’ve literally given me no choice anyway. i’ll get in the stupid bath.”

you practically ripped your tattered clothes off your body and jumped straight into the water, splashing water and bubbles every where. you thrashed around wildly in the water, slipping and sliding all over the place. god, how long ago was it since you’ve had a bath like this?

jaemin reached into the water and held you firmly upright, using his thumb to rub you reassuringly. “woah, kitty. be careful, it’s dangerous to be so careless in the water. you can hurt yourself.”

“too long since i’ve had a bath like this,” you moaned, slipping under the water til your nose was just sticking out.

jaemin rolled up his sleeves and started rinsing your hair, massaging circles of shampoo into your scalp. you purred contentedly, tail swishing and splashing in the water.

“such a good kitty, doing so good for nana,” he murmured lowly as he washed and rinsed your hair and body affectionately.

you stayed in the tub, splashing around happily, until the warm water began to run cold. jaemin allowed you to step out before drying your body with a fluffy white towel. he dressed you in a pair of his grey sweatpants and a fuzzy black hoodie that smelled oh so deliciously of him. you inhaled the neckline of the hoodie deeply, his smell making your limbs dizzy and head fuzzy.

“all better now, kitty?” he smiled teasingly at you.

you gave a sheepish smile back. “thank you, nana.”

“it’s getting late, baby. let me get you a little snack. stay here on the couch,” he gave you a small peck to your head and walked to the kitchen.

his kittens strutted up to you, meowing and begging to be held. you grabbed all three in your arms and snuggled them close to your chest, pressing kisses to their fluffy fur.

jaemin walked into the living room, holding a glass of warm milk and a plate of cookies, to see you with his babies. his heart fluttered at the sight, so freaking adorable.

“this is for you, y/n,” he walked over and handed you the milk and cookies.

you smiled appreciatively at him before furrowing your eyebrows cutely. “why are you being so kind to me? we just met a few hours ago.”

jaemin shrugged his shoulders and sat next to you, grabbing lucy into his lap and stroking her fur. “i’ve always been a cat person, as you can see.”

you munched on the cookies happily and let the kittens snuggle up to you. luke and lucy fell asleep on your lap, purring contentedly. you let out a soft yawn and fluttered your eyelids. jaemin chuckled. you were just so stinking cute.

“getting sleepy, baby? i’ll take you to the guess bedroom,” he grabbed your arm, sleepy kittens still in hand, before leading you to the room right across from his bedroom.

“can i sleep with the kittens tonight?” you whispered softly.

“of course, baby,” he replied.

before he could turn to walk back to his room, you grabbed his sleeve and gave a quick peck to his cheek before scurrying to hide underneath the covers. your face was hot and red.

so freaking cute, jaemin though to himself, grinning widely.

it was the middle of the night. you didn’t even know what time it was but you couldn’t fall asleep. your mind was running a million thoughts all at once. what were you going to do when jaemin eventually got tired of you freeloading and kicked you out? how were you supposed to live back on the street now that you know what kindness feels like? you liked jaemin so much you didn’t want to leave him.

before you could think it over, you slowly got out of bed and knocked on jaemin’s door. a sleepy jaemin with a raspy voice and half-lidded eyes opened the door.

“yes, baby?” his sleepy voice was so sexy to you.

you stared hard at the ground. “m sorry for waking you, nana. i couldn’t sleep. would it be okay if i slept in here? just for tonight. you smell so good and comforting i thought maybe-“

he stopped you, lifting your chin to look you deep in your eyes. “kitty, don’t be so nervous around me. of course you can sleep in my bed, c’mon.”

he beckoned you over and lifted the comforter up, allowing you to slip in under the covers. he tried to lay a respectable foot away from you but you started whining and pawing at his arms to come closer. he scooted an inch closer but you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around you, snuggling your face into his thick chest and purring happily. your ears twitched cutely and tickled his face. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but molded his body to yours and cuddled you tightly.

“much better,” you sighed happily. you inhaled deeply, his smell flooding your senses. he was so warm and so comfy, you were in heaven. who would've guessed you'd be in this position when you were just swatting and hissing at him earlier in the night?

you fell asleep quickly, letting out soft sighs as you snoozed away. but now jaemin couldn’t fall back asleep. how could he? he had the sweetest little catgirl snuggling so cutely in his arms. he felt so guilty for it but he could feel his erection growing. he cursed at himself. stop being such a horny fuck. she may be cute but she trusts you to not be a freak around her, he thought.

somehow, jaemin ended up falling asleep and he woke up to you staring up at his sleeping face. your wide doe eyes were so cute just watching him adorably, he could wake up like this every day.

“morning, nana,” you whispered softly. during the night, your legs got tangled with his as you rest your hands on his chest. you could feel how thick and built he was underneath the thin material of his shirt, making your rub your thighs together unintentionally.

“good morning, baby. did you sleep well?” his deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine. his half lidded eyes and sleepy smile made him look so sexy.

you gave him a toothy smile, ears twitching and tail slapping against the bed. “yes i did. best sleep in a long time.”

he gave you a deep kiss to the top of your head, inhaling against your scalp. now that you’ve had a bath, you smelled so sweet and soft and milky. “glad to hear that. let me make breakfast before i have to leave for work.”

he slowly got up from underneath the covers, making you whine and reach for his arms to cuddle you once more.

“baby, i need to make you breakfast. can’t have my sweet kitty starve, now can i? look lucy, luna, and luke are here and they look like they want cuddles too.” he gave you a wink as the three kittens jumped on the bed and walked over to you.

jaemin returned with a plate of fresh fruit, eggs, pancakes, and some bacon. your ears perked up and you sniffed the air excitedly.

jaemin chuckled at your excitement. “hungry are we, kitty?”

you nodded excitedly. “i love pancakes. it’s been so long since i’ve had them.”

you scarfed down the breakfast jaemin made for you. bits of egg gathered at the corner of your mouth and jaemin wiped them away for you.

shyly, you told him, “thank you. for the breakfast and for everything, nana. i’ve never been treated this kindly before.”

jaemin scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you, giving you a sweet peck on the cheek. “anything for my kitty.”

he checked his watch and jumped up suddenly. “shit! i’m gonna be late for work.” he rushed into his closet to grab clothes to change into.

you sat on the bed as he stripped to his underwear and put on black slacks and a white button-down. you blushed at the sight of his bare body, thinking he was so sexy but you’d die before telling him that.

rushing to put his shoes on, he gave you one final kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. “i’ll be back tonight for dinner, okay kitty? i’ll leave a 50 on the counter so you can buy whatever you want for yourself. see you this evening, baby.”

your heart sunk. you didn’t want him to leave you again. not when you just met. you knew he was going to come back home (he had to) but that didn’t fill the empty hole in your heart. your eyes welled up with a few tears before you wiped them away with your sleeve. jaemin has been so kind to you so it was time for you to stop looking like a bum and fix yourself up cutely for him.

later that evening, jaemin returned home to not just 3 kitties running up to him to give him some love but also you rushing up to give him a big bear hug. your little body crushing him with a tight squeeze as you nuzzled your face in his chest made his heart melt. he felt you purring against his chest as his arms wrapped around your body.

“missed me, huh kitty?” he teased.

you loosened your grip to look into his eyes. “yes i did,” you pouted seriously.

“i missed you too, baby. let me take these work clothes off so i can make dinner for you,” he replied, giving your head a sweet kiss and inhaling your milky scent.

you reluctantly let go as jaemin’s eyes widened at the sight. you were wearing the cutest little outfit he had no idea where you got it from. a short white mini skirt with a tight lacy pink crop top that showed off your plump tits that were practically spilling out of your shirt. you even had baby pink thigh highs with little bows on them.

“like it?” you smiled up at him, giving a little swirl. he caught sight of little white panties underneath your skirt.

jaemin was breathless. “where did you get this little outfit, baby?”

you smiled even wider. “used the money you left me to go shopping for this. i told the lady to help me find something to impress you and she showed me this.”

jaemin eyed your body hungrily, making you squirm and rub your thighs together. “so, nana? do you like it?”

jaemin gave you a tight hug, pressing his body against yours. you could feel his bulge against your pelvis, making your panties so wet. “i love it, baby. you’re so cute.”

your tail swished happily as you purred against him. “yayyy,” you said excitedly.

“baby, let me go make dinner for us, kay? just wait for me and we can cuddle after.” he hummed against your head.

for dinner, you sat in his lap on the couch, eating your steaming bowls of soup and happily cuddling with the three kitties. your little skirt rode up your thighs, causing your panties to peak out. you wiggled your ass around on jaemin’s lap, sighing contentedly as jaemin shifted around so you wouldn’t feel his hardening bulge.

“thank you again, nana. i appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you purred.

jaemin gave you a wink. “of course, my baby. you can stay with me for as long as you need. i’m not just gonna throw you out.”

you sat up excitedly, tail swishing, as you turned to face him. “really? you really mean it?”

jaemin nodded. “of course. stay with me as long as you need. my home is always open to you.”

you set your bowl down and gave him a tight hug. “yay yay yayy!! thank you, nana!”

you leaned back to look him in his eyes when you slowly looked down to stare at his lips. slowly, you inched forward and planted a sweet kiss on his lips, sucking and licking gently. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but reciprocated your kiss with a renewed fervor. you wrapped your arms around his neck and sat there on his lap as you made out with him intensely.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned against your lips, rubbing circles on your back and lightly bucking his hips against yours. you let out soft whimpers and moans.

you pulled away from him and rested your foregead against his to gaze deep into his eyes. you looked so fucking hot in that moment jaemin was about to lose it. puffy lips, wild hair, lidded eyes staring at him seductively, ears twitching so cutely. you stared at each other, air tingling with tension and need.

jaemin broke the silence. “baby, i don’t have work tomorrow. let’s go shopping and buy you some cute clothes to wear, kay?”

you nodded and sunk your face into his neck, sniffing at his sexy scent. “yes, i would like that a lot, nana.”

for the next few weeks, you would drive jaemin crazy. always prancing around wearing the cutest little outfits that would leave nothing to the imagination. snuggling and cuddling him so cutely whenever he had the tiniest bit of freetime to lounge around. sleeping in his bed and tangled up in his arms while rubbing yourself against his body. kissing him and making out with him at every possible moment but never going further than that. you were so so clingy with him, always whining and pouting when he had to go anywhere without you. and when he got back, you’d cling to him like a little koala. you were just his sweetest, cutest little kitten and he wanted to gobble you up.

“nana, don’t leave me. how long will you be gone this time?” you pouted and pawed at his chest, pressing your body against his.

“baby,” he sighed. “i need to go drop this off at the post office. i’ll be back in 20 minutes, okay? then i’ll give you your cuddles.”

you sniffled. “meanie.”

when he came back as promised, 19 minutes later, you ran and jumped up into his arms. “you came back, nana! missed you so much.” you pressed a sweet kiss against his lips.

“you’re so precious, kitty. my sweet kitty always so good to nana,” he hummed against your lips.

you pulled away. “nana, i have a problem.”

jaemin started to press soft kisses up and down your jawline. “hm?”

“i’ve been feeling weird lately. i don’t know how to explain it.”

he paused, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “what do you mean, baby?”

“everytime you touch me like that, i get all tingly.” you pointed to your privates. “i get all warm and hot down there. and my panties get a little wet. is there something wrong with me?”

jaemin’s jaw dropped in realization. oh. oh.

“oh, baby. uh,” he started, setting you down on the ground gently. “how do i explain this?”

you tilted your head expectantly at him.

“it means you need me.” he said simply.

you looked confused. “need you? of course i need you. you’re my nana and i’m your kitty.”

“no baby. it means you need me to touch you right there.”

you had a look of realization on your face. “oh.”

“baby, i can help you. i can make you feel really good. but only if you tell me, okay? i won’t do anything you don’t want.” he said slowly, gauging your reaction.

you had a sure look on your face. “nana, i trust you. please touch me.”

jaemin growled and smashed his lips against yours, gripping your ass with one hand and running his hand through your hair in another. you purred needily, rubbing your legs together and feeling that warmth between your legs again.

“baby, can i take this to the bedroom?” he sighed breathlessly against your lips.

you nodded excitedly and chased his lips with yours once more. he hoisted you up by your waist and wrapped your legs around his waist. you lightly grinded against his abdomen, causing him to groan and curse against your lips.

he threw you onto the bed, knocking you breathless, and climbed on top of you to kiss you deeply once more. you whined and bucked your hips up against him in need.

“need more, nana,” you whimpered.

“m getting there, baby,” he said as he started to take your skirt, top, bra, and finally panties off your body, never disconnecting his lips from yours.

he reached his hand down to lightly tease your leaking pussy. you felt so warm and hot down there, you needed more. “more! more!” you cried out.

he took one finger and lightly went around your sopping hole. “fuck, this pussy is so wet for me, huh? you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this. the perfect kitty.”

he plunged one finger in, which had you whining and bucking against his hand. as he pumped his finger in and out of your drooling cunt, he slowly added another finger, then another. he alternated between pumping your cunt and taking his fingers out to play with your clit.

you moaned and cried out. “fuck yes! yes, more, please oh god more!”

he planted a deep kiss on your lips. “my kitty is doing so good for me.”

suddenly, he ripped his hand from your cunt, which had you whining and pouting. then he crawled down to face your beautiful pussy. you were so wet and leaky, all for him. he groaned and shoved his face right into your cunt, tonguing at your hole before licking a strip up to your clit. you screamed and cried out, gripping at his hair and shoving his face further into your crying pussy. he started sucking and licking at your clit before shoving three of his fingers back into your hole, pumping up and hitting your G-spot. tears rolled down your face from all the pleasure.

you felt your core get tight. “nana! nana! feel funny down there… my pussy keeps leaking more!” you cried out.

he looked up from your cunt. he looked so fucking sexy, eyes lidded and face dripping with your arousal. “baby, don’t worry. just relax and feel good, kay?”

he dove back into fingering your dripping cunt and sucking and licking at your clit when you felt a wave of pleasure burst from your core. your cunt squirted out wetness as you screamed in pleasure.

“oh god! nanaaa!!” you sobbed, covering your face with your arm from the intense pleasure.

he grinned, licking his lips and fingers clean, and gently pulled your arm from your face. “let look at you, gorgeous. that felt good, right?”

you nodded vigorously. “nana, need more. felt so good.”

you pulled at his belt loop and started unbuckling his jeans. he let you pull his pants down as he took his shirt off, exposing his sexy toned body. you were drooling at the sight.

“nana, you are so sexy,” you whispered, staring directly at his chiseled abs.

he winked at you before finally pulling his boxers down and letting his rock hard cock spring free. your eyes got as wide as saucers. he was massive. so red and veiny, thick from base to tip, and a slight curve upwards. a bead of pearly white liquid gathered at the tip. his balls looked so big and heavy too. your mouth watered.

“wow,” you whispered to yourself.

jaemin smirked, giving himself a few pumps. “like it, baby?”

you nodded slowly. “i’ve never done this before. can i put it in my mouth?”

jaemin groaned. “fuck baby, you’re gonna be the death of me. so cute and so fucking hot.”

you leaned down and started licking the shaft, started at the base. you sucked his balls softly, letting the weight of them rest on your tongue as you moaned softly.

“just like that baby, fuck. sure you’ve never done this before?” he groaned and snaked his hands into gripping your hair.

you shook your head before licking his cock from base to tip. you gave his cock a small kiss and gulped. how were you going to fit this in your mouth. he was huge. slowly, you sucked on the tip before taking more and more into your mouth. you bobbed your head up and down on his cock as jaemin let out the sexiest groans. you let your tongue lick at the veins on the underside of his cock as you went faster and faster.

“oh, baby. fuck, you suck dick like a pro,” he moaned out. “you’re so gorgeous and perfect, you know that? i love you, my sweet kitty.”

all of sudden, you bottomed out on his cock, sticking it all in your mouth at once. you gave a few licks to his balls.

“oh fuck, fuck, fuck, m gonna cum,” jaemin cursed.

he ripped your head off his cock with a lewd pop. leaving you whining and chasing his cock for more. he threw you back against the bed and pinned you down, cock bouncing angrily against his stomach. you rubbed your legs together as your pussy leaked and drooled in need.

“as good as you suck dick, baby, i need to finish inside you,” he growled, giving you a deep kiss.

he reached into his nightstand to pull out a condom.

“what’s that?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head.

he ripped the packet open and started rolling it on his cock. “it’s called a condom, baby. you put it on before having sex to prevent pregnancy.”

you shook your head slowly. “do you have to wear it? don’t want you to. wanna feel your cock in my pussy raw.”

jaemin paused. “you sure, baby?”

you nodded. “very sure.”

he groaned and cursed to himself. something about “fuck, she’s so sexy and she doesn’t even know it.” he ripped the condom off and threw it off the bed somewhere. then he climbed back on top of you and propped your legs up against his shoulders and lined his cock with your entrance. he gave himself a few punps and teased your soaking hole with the tip of his leaking cock. “ready, baby?”

you nodded vigorously and whined, bucking your hips up to meet his cock. he bottomed out inside you with one thrust, causing you to scream out.

“oh, nana! fuck!” you cried deliciously. your ears twitched so cutely it had jaemin wanting to pound you hard and fast immediately.

he paused his hips to let you against to his size. “are you okay, baby?”

you kissed him. “if you don’t move i might lose my mind.”

with that, he pounded your little pussy with his big cock hard and deep. you cried and screamed at the intense pleasure, claws scratching at his back. the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass had you leaking all around. you squirmed and wriggled underneath him, causing him to use his strength to pin your hips to the mattress.

“fuck baby, you feel so good. real thing is much better than what i’ve imagined,” he growled against your neck.

“oh jaemin,” you called out.

his hips went faster and harder. “say it again. say my name, baby.”

“j-jaemin,” you cried. “jaemin jaemin jaemin! yes oh fuck yes!” in the deep mating press he had you in, you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix sweetly.

“oh baby, i love you so much. love my sweet kitty so much. so precious and so sweet to me.” he groaned into your neck.

you were losing your mind in pleasure. “oh jaemin, gonna cum again. more please more!!”

his hips rutted into you impossibly fast, god you were losing your mind. you felt your core tighten and burst with pleasure once again, waves of orgasm washing over your body. your pussy squirted all over his abdomen and spasmed around his cock. his hips continued to fuck you through your orgasm, leaving you feeling overstimulated with pleasure. fat tears rolled down your face as you sobbed and clawed at jaemin’s back.

“m gonna cum too baby,” he gave you a sweet kiss on your lips. “doing so good for me. so good for nana.”

with a final deep thrust, he bottomed out inside your pussy and let out hot white spurts of cum, so much that some dripped and leaked out even as he was still balls deep inside. he collapsed on top of you with a groan, inhaling your hair deeply. you laid there panting and covered in sweat.

“love you, kitty,” he whispered softly into your ear.

“love you too, nana.”

#nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin fluff

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Text

Black Metal and Bourbon (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 8.1k

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, drug usage, mentions of sex & intimacy, dark jokes/dirty jokes, rumors, gossip, past toxic relationship, a shitty Ex, protective!Simon, etc. (18+ mini-series)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slapped the damp rag back into the bar top, the fabric heavy with spilled alcohol and other fluids that you didn’t even want to try and think about.

“Jesus.” Your muscles ache, neck stiff from having to try and slap a dart from the ceiling where some jackass had been too drunk to attempt and hit the target. The thing was still up there, as you weren’t about to spend your entire night fruitlessly attempting to fix someone else's blurry mistakes.

You glare over your shoulder, seeing the unconscious form of the man in question being dragged out by his friends presently, his slurring chuckles making him sound like a drowning elephant. Intoxicated yells of goodbye attached to your name make you roll your eyes slowly as they begin being said; you push through the waist-height door to allow you behind the front counter. Your middle finger flips the patrons off before boisterous flirting hits the air.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that—!” Is cut off by the slam of the front doors and you couldn’t be more happy that your boss hadn’t gotten the bolts tightened.

“Don’t get paid enough…” You grumble, eyes slithering over to the tip jar and seeing the overflow of bills and coins as your fingers wrap the neck of a bottle of Vodka.

The profit would be split with your coworker even if she’d been gone for more than half a night getting railed by her new boy toy. You can still remember the look she’d given you as she’d walked out during rush hour, her sharp smirk and smug sheen of ‘you won’t say anything, will you?’

Grumbling under your breath, you slip the Vodka back into its slot on the wall racks, while telling yourself you can’t drink on the job; trying to forget the face of the man that had been attached to hers before they’d stumbled to the back alley.

“Graham Whitaker, you’re such a five-cent sell-out,” you shake your head, sighing heavily into the air that smells like booze and sweat.

Graham Whitaker—your Ex in every sense.

You decided to tell your coworker, if she ever showed back up, that the only reason she was getting dicked-down was because it was that man’s plan to try and make you jealous. As if you’d be caught with your pants down over a prick that had cheated on you more times than you could count before you threw his ass out.

“Not my problem anymore,” your hands move to display themselves in a motion of a settled disagreement before wiping them on your black pants.

It was late now, of course, with the dart-drunk and his friends being the last patrons that you had to serve. But you’d been in this town a long, long time.

Sorrel the construction worker came in an hour, Miss Anna-Lee accompanying for her nightly Gin and Tonic before she talked about her late love from the seventies. From there it was three more regulars before closing activities and fighting to get up tomorrow by noon only to do it all over again.

Over and over and over.

You lean back on the counter and look across the brown wood and warm overhead lights, behind you, the illumination from the drink rack gives off a dead glow.

This was your workplace since you'd been of age, and over the years that seemed to drag, here is where you’d stayed. Nothing ever changed in this town—the biggest shock was when you’d broken up with Graham; people hadn’t stopped talking about it for months.

This place was like a prison of slow death and abandoned dreams. Safe to say this was not what you had envisioned for yourself.

You scoff, pushing off the back counter and snatching your rag back up before you can spiral once more.

The stains weren’t going to buff themselves out.

Maybe it was chance that the mechanics shop across the street had shut down, too few employees and too many drug busts. Chance, or fate, whichever it was you chose to believe in that still-air Sunday, it was still a shock to you when you looked out the front window as Sorrel called goodnight through his heavy accent.

‘SOLD’

“Sold?” Sorrel pauses with one foot out of the door, and he chuckles when he sees where you’re looking in shock, your hand holding a dirty glass.

“Haven’t heard, then? Few newcomers snuck in under our noses—they’ll be running the place; mechanics!”

“New?” You laugh. “Who in their right mind would come here of all places?”

Sorrel shakes his head, grumbling as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket. “You’ll just have to meet ‘em, Doll. Sure you’ll leave a glowing impression.”

“Take that shit outside, you ass. You know I hate the smell.” A smirk graces your dead eyes.

“Like I said. Glowing.” You glare, but the man slips out of the door quickly and his form passes by the window outside to climb into his truck parked in the street. Two honks from the horn and the older man is off, grizzly-like beard gone just like your boredness.

New arrivals?

You blink at the blackened shadows of the street, illuminated by the lights and their tall tree-like bases—the sway of the planted bushes in the boxes outside. Your head tilts at the abyssal building that was once in working order.

It was a shitshow now, years of abandonment not giving it any helping hand regarding upkeep. The concrete was cracked, the garage door was hanging off of one side, and the front windows had been broken by your Ex’s buddies when they had gotten into a fight like the three-year-olds they were.

You hum lowly. A hard-chucked set of keys, you recalled. You’d seen it from here easily enough. Hadn't lied to Sheriff Russel when he’d come knocking, and, you suppose, that was why even now the immature posse still tried to scare you by following you home at night to this day.

As if everyone didn’t know where everyone else lived already.

But back to the current interest for the night.

“Let’s have a little look-see, then,” you breathe, knowing Miss Anna-Lee would be a good while away like always. You could chance five minutes—it was just across the street after all.

Shuffling outside, making sure to hold the door until it closes slowly, you step down the single step and stick your hands into your pockets. The night wasn’t hot or cold, simply there like a metaphorical cut on your palm; it wasn’t surprising the more you lived with it, but it still made your skin itch.

Feet padding, you cross the dead street and take in the long stretch of unkempt grass, stepping onto the broken curb as your shoes crunch broken glass. Long-gone cigarette butts are scattered here and there, the occasional stray bit of metal or trash. Your eyes shift slowly from one brick that makes up the frame to another, the peeling blue color that could use touching up.

The mural you had painted in middle school had faded a long time ago, just like the great expectations of going into an art career. The eyes of a great gray wolf are only a dark outline that you can’t help but stare at as if a cancer was growing in your brain, hidden behind the reach of green ivy.

Ripping your eyes away, you ignore the cry of tires from across the town and the pop of an exhaust pipe—the roar of either a car chase by the repeat offender Irene Chaney, or by some stupid kid related to Irene Chaney.

“She’s gonna wreck one of these days,” you breathe, looking down at your object of intention—the sold sign in all of its red and white glory.

Your hand snakes out and grabs the cheap plastic, stopping its swaying with a creak and a tilt of your head.

You just couldn’t understand it—who in their right mind would buy this place? The only thing it would be good as is rubble, at least then some rabbit could make its very dusty home here.

Sorrel had mentioned multiple people too.

“Must be up at the B&B then,” your voice carries over the space, the stars twinkling above you as a shadow stands at the end of the cracked driveway. Its hands are in its pockets, tall form bulky with the dark brown leather jacket around its intimidating form. You’re none the wiser, letting the sign drop as you put your hands to your hips. “They better not be fuckin’ dickheads—”

“Mind explainin’ to me why I came to get a drink and now I’m talkin’ to some Bird on my property?”

You startle, gasp peeling out of your lips as your head swivels as if attached to a string which, in turn, tracks back to the source of a heavy Manchester accent. Grass breaks under your feet, as the gravel of the tone makes you cringe. Your eyes lock on the man who looks like he just came back from a warzone.

The first thing you noticed was the balaclava and the skeleton detailing, of course, how could you not—the lower half was an inch below those October eyes of the deepest shade of brown you’d ever witnessed.

Your spine straightens in cautious surprise, hiding the way your hands had clenched as if ready to swing on your Ex if he so happened to be there instead of…this person.

“Excuse me?” You say, quickly, as if it was forced out instead of a scream. Your face pushes that stern expression back to your face as your throat clears out the hoarseness.

A covered head tilts with its small sliver of pale flesh visible to you—the strong bones of his nose bridge and hidden jawline. The bulk of large muscles and thighs spoke to hard labor, and his booted feet shifted below loose black cargo pants.

The mask alone caused you a hint of worry in those few seconds of fast study of this phantom’s anatomy.

He blinks at you slowly, raising the small corner of a dark brow from a respectable distance away.

“Said you’re trespassing, yeah?” Your face gains a sheen of heat, and you glance at your bar behind the stranger, at the bright burn of the lights.

Taking a stiff breath, your lips pull into a frown as you try to hide your embarrassment.

“Well…a holler would have been just fine.” A fake glare is put on. “What’s with sneaking up on a woman in the middle of the night? Are you some creep or something?”

Those dark eyes stay locked on yours, and for a moment you don’t know if you’ve encountered a statue or not because he doesn’t speak for a moment.

A puff of breath from his nose.

“You the bartender, then?” You motion to your nametag above your left breast and grunt. His gaze homes in before he simply says, “Good.”

Without another word, the man turns stiffly before he steadily begins making his way back to the bar; crossing the street with a swift check of the road. You watch him saunter off, jaw slackened and your cheeks hot. The span of his shoulder blades levels out as he rolls his shoulders.

Where did this guy even come from? The answer was simple, the bed and breakfast was only four buildings down and to the left. Guy must have come in for a late-night serenade with a bottle.

A quick glance is thrown back to the rundown property behind you before you growl and hurry after this individual who currently pushes open the faulty doors of your work. Jogging across the asphalt, you catch the thing right before it closes and slip inside with a puff of air and a shoved-down snap of a sarcastic ‘thanks’.

Yet, the man is already pulling back one of the bar stools and easing into it when you make it behind the counter. You study him yet again.

“You’re one of the new mechanics?” Brown-Eyes blinks at you.

Without missing a beat, he goes, “Bourbon—Kentucky.”

“I asked a question,” you cross your arms, not even for a moment looking away as the silence of the bar sneaks in around you and this strange creature. “Least you can do for a lady is answer it when you act like a damn cat and sneak up on her.”

“You were on my property.” This is leveled out through a grunt, and after a moment of staring, you scoff.

“I was curious about who had bought such a piece of junk. Guess I have my answer.” Your hand grabs the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, the amber liquid inside sloshing as you turn back and put it into the wood. There’s a fraction of a dead tease that makes the man seem more human than he looks.

“Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?”

“I prefer a solar flair.” You comment dryly and set an engraved glass next to the bottle. Something flickers past the mechanic’s eyes, a quirk to the fabric of his balaclava.

“On The Rocks or Neat?” Your brow raises and you tilt your head.

“That even a bloody question? Neat.” You snort, splaying your hands before you grab the bottle as he watches you blankly.

“Sorry, it's kind of my job to ask.” Your hand shifts and you pour a reasonable amount into the glass, knowing exactly when to stop. As you shift the bottle away, you leave it on the bar top and gently push the beverage to him as his gloved fingers take it up. You repress a small smile at the matching bone gloves to go with the detailing on his balaclava.

“Bartenders always have this much attitude?” The glass is kept in front of his person, carefully held in his large grip.

Moving back, you go to lean on the back counter. This night was quickly taking an interesting turn. “Only if they’re me.” You sigh. “You have a name, then, Brown-Eyes?”

The individual snorts at the title, but his eyes narrow on you at the same time as if he was held hesitant at the ability for you to make him. He had an air of casual tension around him, like a dog on a thin leash that can only just manage to meet others and stay his fangs.

Danger, you pinpoint. The man felt like danger. A riptide; surface tension.

Then why was it that you felt more and more intrigued by the second?

“Simon Riley,” he eases, staring with those numb eyes of his before he tips the glass slightly your way. With the thumb on the same hand that holds the bourbon, he hooks it under his face covering and pulls it up until he can connect the glass to his lips and take down a sip as his Adam’s apple bobs in a swallow.

On the way back, his thumb drags the fabric back to its previous position as if nothing had happened. The image of pale skin and stubble sticks with you, and your eyes shift away quickly without you realizing it as the glass is returned to the counter.

“Well, Simon Riley,” you mutter, “welcome to nowhere.”

The man hums, eyes looking you over in a single glance before the gaze shifts to the wall behind your head. He says nothing, and the door opens to the next three familiar customers as you move to take their order. As you slip out from behind the barrier, you grumble under your breath before you slip past Simon to the corner booth.

“For the record, Riley, I do enjoy seein’ that old place getting taken on. Don’t run it into the ground, would you? And if you need a fresh coat of paint, for the love of all things holy, don’t go down to the Schafersons’ place, you come right to me.”

Walking casually, you greet the three ladies from the downtown library with a smirk and an easy comment about if their husbands knew they were out so late, to which you promptly got cursed out on good faith. Sharing a few chuckles, you get them started on what they need, all the while feeling those brown orbs now following subtly from the side of their sockets, intrigued.

Simon wasn’t sure what to make of you, and the same could be said about this town as a whole. A woman with such a future trapped behind her eyes, adventure in her blood, why were you here in a place with nothing promised for it except dying businesses and old faces? This was a place where people came to hang up the coat, not try and rip it off of its peg.

The children born here with ambitions leave, that was the common denominator. Even Simon could see that. But you? Here you were.

The man peels his eyes away, taking up his glass again and re-hooking his thumb to his mask. Amber liquid seeps into his mouth, pulling the scars on his lips and cheeks as he swallows it down as easily as water. The bourbon pools in his stomach, sending its honied effects to the back of his mind; it would take much more to get drunk, but that wasn’t what Simon was looking for.

Perhaps he was just out tonight wondering why he’d left the military for a mechanic’s job and come out here—asking anything for a sign that this was the right decision even as his head echoed with the screams and the gunfire.

And then he’d seen you standing in front of the fuckin’ worst mechanics shop he’d ever seen that he’d signed the property deed for not three hours ago. Hell, he hadn’t even looked at the place before buying it—Price was responsible for the official financial actions, and the man had made him swear that it was worth it.

But fuck, he’d just needed a way out of the city. Too loud, too unpredictable in that previous shop of theirs right by the busy street. MacTavish and Garrick had been easy to convince; they’d all served together before and had no family over here either.

A new start thousands upon thousands of miles away.

Your head pulls up from where you chat with the librarians, hearing the slam of the door as the draft wafts in from outside—a small breeze has picked up.

Inside walks in your very ruffled, and very well-pleased, coworker, Celina Bell.

She brushes down her top and black skirt, blinking around with blown pupils until her eyes lock on you. A poisonous smile meets your eyes as you raise a brow slowly—Lord, if this girl didn’t realize that fucking your Ex over some workplace squabble wasn’t something to be proud of, she was really a lost cause.

Simon only glances over his shoulder before turning back around and tapping his fingers against his glass absentmindedly.

“You alright?” You ask out of due diligence, sparing the ladies an apology look for them being interrupted.

“Better than alright,” Celina chuckles, walking over with a limp in her step. “Just scored Graham Whitaker.” She fake pauses, blinking as if in realization that a child would know was taking the piss. Your face is stuck in the expression of boredom. “Wait…you two were involved for a few years, right? Oh, I’m really sorry—I had no clue.”

“Yeah,” you look her up and down and blink at the disheveledness. “Sure. Quite the score.” A pause, her lips pulling back into that smug smirk that reminds you of a weasel. Yet your next words leave her face devoid of blood. “You know he got Chlamydia from Stacy Green a week ago, right?”

A pin could be heard dropping. Brown eyes are firmly stuck to the scene, unsure what to make of it. The ladies stifle their laughter.

“...W-what?”

“Y’know,” you motion a hand to her lower body, walking past her back to the bar. “STD. Chlamydia. Results in—”

“I know what the fuck an STD is, you bitch.”

“Woah,” you whistle, “language.” Your body returns to the counter as loud stuttering is left behind you, the frantic patting of a pocket to look for a phone before enraged feet rush to the exit. “Need a refill, Riley?”

“It can wait,” Simon utters slowly. The door slams shut.

You chuckle, shrugging. “Alright, suit yourself.”

The man takes the names you drop and files them away, slotting them into his mental database for when he needs to work with these people. Yet, there’s already a sour impression just off of comments alone. Who better to get your news from than a bartender?

You know everyone's dirty little secrets.

You diligently serve the drinks to the librarians, placing them down carefully before Simon once more has a re-filled glass of his drink. He moves it slightly up in a cheer and gives you a stare as you wipe your hands with a clean rag.

“Seems you know everything ‘round ‘ere.” His accent is what draws you in, and you find yourself eager to hear more from him.

“I’m easy to talk to,” you respond, shrugging and leaning on the counter a foot or two away as you both watch the other. A smirk overtakes your features. “And I am the one that gives people the drinks.”

“So, what I’m hearing,” Simon raises a brow. “Is that you get ‘em dunker than a man on his execution date.”

You click your tongue, tilting your head in a teasing manner while maintaining a serious face.

“Afraid you’ll spill your secrets, Riley?”

His eyes flash at you, and his lips flicker into a smirk you can hear in his voice.

“It’ll take more than two glasses of Bourbon to get me talking, Sunshine.”

Your face shifts away, but the sudden fight with a smile leaves you nearly breathless.

Who is this man?

“Why are you here,” your question meets his ears as he takes back the last of his drink, stomach filled for the night and his searching, for the moment, abated.

The glass meets the bar top.

He grunts. “Needed a drink.”

Your lips pull in annoyance. “You know what I mean. You’re terrible at answering questions.”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble, shaking your head as a low chuckle makes your insides swirl.

A stack of bills is placed on the counter, and the man stands, grabbing the hood of his black sweatshirt and pulling it up. His gloved hands go to the pockets of his leather jacket with a roll of his wide shoulders. From under the hood, the white of the painted mask glares out from under the shadows that now shroud him.

You both sneak a glance at the mechanic's shop—a clear view from the front window.

“See you around, then?” Your head is tilted at him, blinking. You hum under your breath. “I’m going to keep asking you why you showed up in this town, Riley, and I won’t stop until I get an answer.”

Simon quirks a brow, eyes glinting with interest. When was the last time someone had spoken to him like this outside of his boys?

“Look forward to it,” he utters slowly. With a blink and one more dead look, he’s already out the front door and walking back down the street—disappearing like a ghost the same way he had appeared.

Picking up his cash and counting through it, the librarians across the way snicker, and one calls out, “So, the new mechanic, huh?”

“One more peep and I’m doubling your tab.”

But…you did have to admit, he had been charming…hadn’t he? At least someone here could juggle your attitude.

—

Three days pass with no sighting of Simon Riley, but just because you didn’t see him doesn’t mean you weren’t witness to his aftermath.

The shop across the street was practically fixed up while you were asleep.

Where there had been overgrown grass, there was now a cut lawn getting watered by the reach of an angry sprinkler. The fast movement of the spray reaches the sidewalk that was, somehow, still there under all that trash hiding away like a criminal. Stray bricks are gone and stacked into a pile as you pause outside the bar, staring wide-eyed with your breath caught in your throat in the late morning air.

The ivy over your mural was peeled back—that faded wolf’s gaze locking with yours, unyielding to the calls of time as its canid body stool as a silent sentinel.

But, on the third day, as you’re going on break before the night sets in, you manage to not only see Simon again but meet two of the other men who’d moved here.

You pick up your feet and jog across the street, hopping the curb as you blink, impressed at the open garage with its fixed and oiled bay door. Inside it was still dusty—remnants of what was left behind in the corners and scattered. But it was getting there. Quickly.

“Didn’t know Simon was goin’ to sign on such a piece of rusted shite—where’s the fuckin’ outlets?” Gritted Scottish. You stick your hands into your pockets and enter the large opening.

“If I remember,” you speak, finding the two men standing slightly off to the side as the bulkier one with a mohawk carries a series of extension cords. Cobalt and brown eyes dart to you in shock—the second man of darker complexion sharing a glance with the other in swift confusion. “When you manage to find them, they’ll all be burst.”

Blank stares are sent your way.

“Kids would come by and watch ‘em spark when they were bored. No one really cared enough to stop them.” A clearing of a throat meets your ears as you study the room more.

It was small, with only one main garage for all the repairs, but that wasn’t new to you. The motorcycles were, though.

Five in total all parked and resting next to one another near the back wall, all in varying shades of black and gray. Your lips twitch at the sight, imagining your late-night acquaintance riding one of them—you dare say that it fit him quite well, and you weren’t that surprised at all by this.

Biker mechanics. It fits the script.

“Who’s this then?” The Scot asks you, raising a brow as a friendly smirk pulls his mouth up. “Can’t remember bookin’ any repairs today, Ma’am, might have to wait a few more days before we get it all up and runnin’.”

“I can see. No, I work just across the street,” you spare a friendly smile.

“So you’re the bartender? The bartender.” The second man speaks, grinning kindly as he searches through a toolbox on a small table. He hums, looking playful. “So that’s why Ghost was gone so long.”

Ghost…? Did they mean Simon?

The skeletal accents suddenly make far more sense.

“Johnny MacTavish,” A hand is leveled out ahead of you, and you take it casually with a muttering of your own name. “Soap’s just fine as well.”

Your brow quirks, but you only share an amused nod.

The other individual stands and makes his way over, tall and leaner as to where Soap’s more blatant strength is.

“Kyle Garrick—Gaz. Pleasure.”

“Just came over to introduce myself,” your hand shifts back into your pockets as you motion with your head back to the bar. “I’m on my break.”

“Ah,” Soap’s hands move the cables he holds as he loops them into a more storable shape vertically around his elbow and palm. “Last one to meet then is Price—man’s in town gettin’ lunch for us,” he grunts under his breath. “Hopefully a damn set of zip-ties, too.”

“Zip-ties, Mate?” Gaz breathes a chuckle with a fix of the backward ball cap on his head. “C-4 would bloody help more. At least then we can have a clean starting point.”

“I think we’re fresh out of C-4, unfortunately,” you huff a laugh, motioning around as the men smirk at you, Johnny snorting a chuckle. “You guys have done a pretty good job so far. I can’t remember when it looked this nice in here.”

“Well, we’re honored, Bonnie,” Soap tilts his head as he ties off the cord with one of the ends. “Makin’ me blush.”

“If Simon had just looked at the place before buying it, we might have been able to open sooner.” Gaz huffs, thinning his lips as he glances over the broken window and the peeling paint—the door to the main lobby that has a punched dent in it. “Couldn’t be worse.”

“Well then it can only get better,” you breathe, shrugging.

Gaz huffs affectionately. “Not wrong there, then.”

You lean forward, tilting your head. “You’ll find I rarely am.”

“Second time you’ve snuck on,” a Manchester accent scares you once more, head snapping to the side as the light spills in from the garage opening. “This a pattern, Sunshine?”

Simon’s brows are raised as those October eyes lock with yours. Gaz and Soap share a look, smirking before the Scot peels off to find a place to store his belongings.

“Where have you been?” Gaz asks as you glare at the masked man for once again coming up behind you.

A bag is presented, leaning off three fingers as a glance gets thrown past you.

“Down the street. Needed these made.” The bag is tossed and Kyle catches it easily.

You watch as the crinkly plastic is opened and the dark fabric of four black pairs of overalls is produced, each embroidered with their respective names.

“What’s wrong with the old ones?” Johnny pipes up, brows furrowed.

“Looks like you got fuckin’ mugged in ‘em.” Simon slides his attention back to you as Johnny curses with a glint of amusement in his blues.

“Aren’t open yet.” Your face peels back to a stiff annoyance.

“I can see that, Riley.” You motion to the other men. “I was being polite.”

He grunts while walking past, muttering through a brief smirk, “Doubt that.”

Your jaw slackens, but you only growl and hold your tongue as you glance the mechanic over. He still had his leather jacket, but a loose shirt took the place of a hoodie.

“You ready to answer my question?” Simon locks those eyes with yours from over his shoulder before sliding up to the black form of one of the motorcycles.

Visible to the naked eye, you take in the lack of fairings around the frame—eyeing the pure black metal of the entire engine from any angle that you might move to you’d still be able to see. It was nice. Perfect, even; damn expensive too. While the thought was enticing, you can’t imagine Simon riding it—he seemed more rugged, more…classy.

“Negative.” You roll your eyes, but Soap speaks before you can retort.

“Finally takin’ out the CB1000R, Ghost? ‘Bout time.” The brute throws a blank look at the Scot as Gaz utters to you a few feet away before a casual ‘no’ is leveled out through the space.

“He got it months ago,” Kyle’s eyes crinkle. “Can’t seem to take it out for a ride yet. No one knows what he’s waiting on.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” your words confide. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was a fucking fortune—no use collecting dust is what I say.” You hum, shifting back to Simon who taps the seat of the CB1000R before moving past it to an older cruiser with dents and dirt along the sides. This was more him you thought. Rugged and more dated than the first; something you use on long rides to nowhere.

“Maybe he’s just waiting for a special occasion,” you guess.

“Better get on with it.” Gaz moves away with a shrug and a huff.

Your lips pull in a small smile, and you watch Simon pull keys from his jacket and insert them as he moves to straddle the larger body of the cruiser, easing into it slowly. Staring, you think about how far that bike could take you—what you could see with it on the open road of possibilities and whipping air. Where would you go? Anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere.

Eyes shifting away from the motorcycle, they widen as they softly meet Simon’s own—locked for a moment in a staring contest. His lids barely pull down, studying something. You clear your throat and exhale.

Sensing your company was most likely a hindrance at this point, you turn to leave as the engine flares—you wave easily behind your back with a call of well-wishes.

“Come have a drink one time, boys, yeah? I need stories that come from strangers for once.” A ruckus of ‘affirmatives’ and ‘will do, Ma’ams’ sparks up from Johnny and Kyle as you exit to the roar of the motorcycle behind you, your feet kicking a stray rock into the grass before you make it to the curb.

Before you can cross, a steel body blocks your path.

“I’ll be needing a drink later tonight, then.” Simon watches from atop his seat, one booted foot to the ground to steady himself as he comes to a slow halt. His fingers curl the handles, twitching.

“Let me guess,” you tilt your head, smirking, “Bourbon?”

“A woman after my own heart,” he draws numbly, October browns as dead as mulch. As dead as dirt.

“And do you have a heart, Simon Riley?” You question, blinking at him as your mind tells you to walk away. Your brain doesn’t need a repeat of Graham—you already had enough problems on your plate right now besides some attraction to this stranger. This push and pull made your heart jerk, even when you know it shouldn’t.

You’d only just met him.

The man hums, thighs shifting on the black metal frame. He says the easiest answer he can.

“A cold one.”

Pushing on the ground, he takes off down the road back into the main town for whatever errand he was on this time. Your eyes follow until the figure is no more than a memory of the smell of oil and the metallic tinge of caution.

—

You hated the smell of cigarette smoke.

Like a pregnant woman’s aversion to the scent of meat, you grew nauseous at the very hint of cheap tobacco and paper on the air—loathed the burn of it. It had to do with your Ex, of course. The man had been a habitual chain smoker, lighting up one after the other until you had to leave his house entirely to puke on the front lawn. If you thought about it hard enough, you could still taste the ash on your tongue from when he kissed you after lighting up.

But that was only one of the reasons you’d never moved in with him despite being together for years—the cheating was the other problem.

Girl after girl, broken promise after broken promise, you’d still held onto him as if he deserved it. Hell, all that Graham Whitaker deserved were the copious amounts of STDs he probably had after sleeping with as many women as he could to try and get back at you. You didn’t have ample reason to ban him from the bar—him or his loud-mouth friends, you should say—so the problem, like a bad rash, persisted. Cars following you after work and all.

But, the here, the now.

Simon had, in fact, come in for that drink that night—just as he had for the last week up until the grand opening of the boys’ shop. You’d both spoken throughout these encounters and formed some sarcastic and sly-looked bond that the other locals couldn’t understand. You had even learned about his military service.

The both of you were just…different, people said. No one else really argued with it.

You finally met John Price before the party that you’d heard from Simon that Soap and Gaz had been eager to host for the town—‘come meet the bastards that bought that old shitty building and see how they fixed it up all by themselves. You should come and give us your money.’

It was there that a proposal was offered.

“Simon says you told him to come to you about paint.” John was late thirties, keeping a well-trimmed beard with a mustache that was the same shade of brunette as his head of hair. Tall, as well as built, he had found you as you were closing up the bar early for the town-wide party, Celina having already slipped out.

You were dressed in a long skirt and a nice shirt for the occasion.

“John Price, I’d imagine,” you comment, stuffing your keys into your pocket as your purse hangs from your shoulder. A throaty grunt tells you all you need to know as you move down the step. “Yeah, I did say that. Do you need some?” You look over his shoulder to the still peeling color on the outside of the bricks as the men are dragging out folding chairs and long tables. There was the clatter of laughter and loud calls.

John’s blue eyes shift behind him, and he raises a brow slowly.

“Thinkin’ we’d just hire you,” a side-eye. “If you’d be interested.”

That was a surprise.

You begin walking across the street, the man beside you and awaiting your answer.

“Hire me?” Your voice asks, but you aren’t against the idea. “How do you know I’ll be any good at it,” you chuckle in question.

“Simon says he found your initials next to the mural—the wolf.” Your feet pause, stuttering for a second before you catch yourself. The blood on your face stops its circulation in shock. “Not a bad piece, then.” John grunts. “...Think you can do a skull and wings?”

So, you sat with your sketchbook in front of the wall, a portable camping chair below your bare feet as your legs folded under you. Your slip-on sneakers rest in the green grass, kicked off with a sigh. Blinking, the chatter and mumble from the party surround you in a sheen of community and calmness. You can pinpoint every voice, every story being re-told as if new news when it goes in one ear and out the other like a breeze on the wind.

Humming under your breath as the sun is low in the sky, you hear the silent feet still from over your shoulder. A smirk flickers your lips.

“Snooping, Riley?”

“My building.” He grumbles, “Seein’ what you plan to do to it.”

You snort, looking over your shoulder and smiling. “If I recall, you’re the one who took up my offer and told Price about it.”

Simon was dressed in cargos and a compression shirt pushed up to his elbows, the swell of his forearms on full display along with the scars and…tattoos. You blink at them, the swirl of black skulls and guns; barbed wire and dog tags—the dark images that fit him as his motorcycles did on his left limb. Brown eyes flicker from yours to the painted wolf.

“Good at that,” the man says, balaclava shifting.

Your expression slowly shifts to something far softer than you can remember it ever being; inside of your chest, your heart tightens.

“Thank you.”

He levels you, the corners of his eyes easing out of the numb nothingness to show something akin to shielded affection. Molten sunlight on the side of his face, making the color of his irises glow amber. Simon nods to your sketchbook, clearing his throat.

“I able to see it, then, or is it some secret?” You huff.

“Come here,” your hand motions, palm brushing away eraser shavings as your fingers get stained with graphite. The shadow comes closer, leaning over you as the scent of oil pools in your gut. You blink at the side visage, swiftly looking back down to your sketchbook as a slight wind ruffles your skirt.

“Price was talking about a skull with wings beside it—later on he made mention of a sword through the top.” While you explain the concept, you inadvertently study the tattoos on the flesh beside you, one scarred hand coming out to lightly grab the armrest of your chair as Simon leans even closer.

As your face begins burning, breath caught in your throat, he blinks down at the image as he looms, head tilting.

Simon breathes, chest rising and falling as his eyes go far off. You know the symbol means something, though you also have a good guess that it’s related to this group’s time in the service.

He hums, and you see his lips open, the rough grate of his vocal cords as he begins to form words for you.

“It’s—”

Your name is loudly called from across the way, both Simon’s and your heads snapping back as you both realize exactly how close you two have become. The stealing of the other’s warmth like wraiths of hidden longing ceases when you wrench your attention to the man you wished would leave you alone.

Graham raises the dark bottle of a cheap beer from the dollar store in your direction, walking over. Now, your Ex wasn’t anything spectacular, but even you had to admit it was the best you could do around here if you didn’t want to date men only five years from the grave. Graham was tall, strong, and heavy-willed like a bear. In the day hours, he worked as a farmhand down the way.

Your body tenses, eyes going tight. Simon sees.

“Who’s this,” he asks slowly, fingers twitching.

“Ex,” you mutter, grimacing. “He’s going to make a scene.”

Already gazes had started drifting over, conversations lapsing into mute silence as orbs shifted to three different individuals all stuck in the same storm.

Simon grunts, standing up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest, legs shifting below him and thighs trading weight. His moving leaves half of you kept firmly behind him and your eyes study his stance as you notice that fact. You blink, and feel something stir in your ribcage, blooming like a flower.

“Hey, Bartender!” Graham takes a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it as his fingers fumble over the neck of the bottle. “Though I’d seen you over here missing all the action. Nothing’s changed I see.”

Your face pulls in with disgust.

“Graham, you’re drunk. Go home.” It was true—his words were slurring, his limbs loose with drink. He smirks at you, taking a drag of his cancer stick and puffing it directly at you. Your hand snaps to your nose to try and cover the horrendous smell.

“Nah,” he breathes. “I’m here with Celina, see’s a pretty nice lookin’ broad don’t you think? Not as good of a fuck as you, but, hey, I take what I get.” His expression shifts to hidden anger and Simon takes a heavy step forward before he can finish the rest of his sentence, hands shifting to grasp his biceps harder. Those browns simmer with low ferality—a warning.

The air gets heavy.

“Pretty good little lie you spread about me gettin’ that shit from Stacy.”

“That was a lie?” You drawl lazily and watch your Ex’s eyes flash with rage. But he should know you don’t take shit from him anymore. “Oh,” your fingers tighten over your flesh and make you sound stuffy. “Maybe I heard wrong, you’re right. You don’t have Chlamydia.” You glare. “It was Gonorrhea, wasn’t it?”

“Bitch!” Graham barks, moving forward, but before anyone can realize it, Simon already has him shoved back with a stone-like push to your Ex’s chest.

“Not smart, Mate.” The former soldier utters, arms falling back to his sides. The party by this point had entirely halted in sharp gasps and bated breath.

Graham’s beer bottle shatters as it hits the ground, the grass not able to absorb the way it slams down to dirt. Your wide eyes stay stuck on Simon’s figure, who’s now entirely hiding your view of your Ex—the wide expansive back that shows the writhe of his shoulder blades and how his spine shifts under the tight shirt.

Your hand lowers from your face.

“What the fuck?!” Graham spits. “You made me drop my fucking drunk, man!”

“Be thankful that was all, yeah?” Simon’s dead voice is a cold chill on a winter evening. Any sane person would turn and leave immediately. “Cut your losses.”

No one breaths for a long minute, and you can see the other new mechanics inching closer from the sides. All of the locals are deep into the scene, fingers to their lips in surprise. There’s going to be talk tomorrow—the bar will be busy.

“Graham,” you try to sway the pig-headed man once more from behind Simon. “Go home.”

“So this is what I get,” your Ex spits, head trying to peek over the larger man’s frame to look at you. Simon’s hands clench into tight fists. “I’m with you for years and this is how you treat me? I gave you everything!”

“Those are years that I never want to think about again,” you say with a stiff finality. “And it’ll be a cold day in hell before you ever see me worrying about where you are or who you fuck.”

Knowing that the situation is over and done with, Simon takes a single step forward and leans into the man.

“You heard ‘er,” he levels, unblinking. “Scatter.” Simon’s accent made it sound more like a threat, but maybe it was.

Graham growls and takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring Simon down.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” But all he does is turn sharply on his heel and stomp away, crossing the street to his truck before he opens and closes the door with a violent slam. From across the way, Celina gasps and calls his name, but the engine has already started and Graham is down the road with a roar from the exhaust.

Everyone is watching you and Simon, and the staring peels back your skin until Simon grumbles and grabs your arm.

Blinking in shock, he only gives you a moment to steady yourself and slip on your shoes before he drags you inside the garage. You huff and look up at him as you close your sketchbook–trying to not look at those tattoos again. Your finger wanted to trace them—to study the ink down to the layer of skin where it ended and became red flesh and weeping veins. How far up his left arm did they go? Did they only stay at his forearm, or up to his shoulder?

Inside he lets you go, head slightly tilted to the outside as the sounds of hushed whispering pick back up; hurried and filled with electricity. Simon grunts, blinking.

A heated silence encompasses the two of you, and as your eyes lock, neither can speak for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” you glance at your feet. “Should have guessed he’d show up and do something.”

“Don’t apologize,” Simon crosses his arms again, boots righting themselves. “That’s not your fault that some bastard can’t act right, yeah? Forget about it, it’s all nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have to be involved—”

“Bloody cut it out, would you?” Simon glares, brows pulling in. “I said it’s nothing.”

He was very passionate about this, it seemed.

You sigh, shaking your head before a tiny chuckle makes the mechanic blink in confusion. “Suppose I can call you my guard dog now, huh?”

“Piss off,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand while your eyes narrow down. Simon's own crinkle along the edges, lowering his hands to push them into his pockets.

A second leads into another, but neither of you has any particular interest in re-joining the others, even if Soap is smugly passing looks and Price smirks into his drink. Gaz fixes his hat while he tips back a beer bottle, hiding a glint of amusement.

Simon’s voice lowers, seeming to hover closer.

“You alright, then?” You nod, face heating up as you stare at his shadow-tainted visage and how the face-covering obscured him from your eager eyes.

“I’m used to his drama. I have no problem giving it back.” Simon hums, October browns glinting like Halloween lights.

“Seems so.” He pauses, and pushes out a joking, “Not surprised, Sunshine.”

“Good, Brown-Eyes,” you lean back on your heels and smirk. “I’d be offended if you were, with all we’ve been talking to one another.”

“Getting familiar, Bartender?”

“Of course, Mechanic. Haven’t you heard?” He tilts his head, prodding you on as his eyes soften that candle-like smidge. “I keep everyone’s secrets—and you still have to tell me yours.”

Simon chuffs a low chuckle, and the fabric of his mask pulls as he shakes his skull. “Maybe one day, yeah? Need to stick ‘round to know ‘em.”

Then perhaps this town was worth wasting away in.

—

“Bastard won’t cause any problems, will he?”

“No, no, he’s too much of a coward to try and get back at anyone. He won’t do anything.”

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @aldis-nuts, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

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nightwolf14292 · 6 days

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What I think the Batfam's love languages would be:

This is not necessarily canon, you can take this as the love languages of my personal versions of the characters if ya want-

Bruce Wayne -

How does he show his love?: I think that if you two were casually going out, seeing each other on occasion for a date but not actually officially dating or anything, he would show his love through giving gifts. I mean, it's the billionaire thing to do—just dump a bunch of money on you and let you buy stuff. Then when you started officially dating he would continue to give you gifts, but I also think he would use acts of service.. Whether that be dressing up as Batman and beating up someone who threatened you, or being Bruce Wayne and making your boss give you a promotion. Then if your relationship got extra serious, like you were moving into Wayne Manor serious, I think he would finally start to warm up to physical touch and would slowly get more touchy with you over time.

What type of love does he respond best to?: Quality time. Just having you around while he's doing mundane things, you sitting with him in the Batcave while he's working a case, going grocery shopping together. Depending on his mood he'll also respond well to words of affirmation, but if you catch him in the wrong mood he'll get annoyed and upset by them because he'll feel patronized.

Dick Grayson -

How does he show his love?: No matter what stage of the relationship, his biggest love language is always going to be acts of service. He's a people pleaser at heart, he loves doing things for others even if it's detrimental to him. If the two of you were casually going out I think that he'd use a lot of words of affirmation on you, just being really sweet to you in general. When you started officially dating he'd make an effort to spend as much quality time with you as possible and get a little more touchy, starting to get used to hugs, cuddling, sleeping in the same bed, etc. If you got extra serious he'd become much more comfortable with physical touch, and start to lay more heavily into his acts of service.

What type of love does he respond best to?: Words of affirmation—but only if you do it right. Dick, being the people pleaser that he is, lives for praise and being told that he's helpful and good. Words of affirmation in the sense of 'I'm proud of you', or 'You did great out there tonight,' work wonders for him. However, words of affirmation in the form of compliments about his physical appearance have an adverse affect if you're still early on in the relationship. After all, Dick gets his looks complimented a lot and most of the time it makes him uncomfortable. He'll feel like you're only looking at his body and not who he is as a person. However, he's more accepting to physical compliments when you get into a more serious relationship.

Jason Todd -

How does he show his love?: Well to be honest if you're casually going out, he.. Doesn't- I mean that early on, he has no real reason to believe that he should. After all, he's never had any experience with this sort of thing, and why would you ever want to date a literal crime boss/murderer? He thinks that you're totally a spy and that you're going to betray him or something. If you manage to progress to the officially dating stage, he'll start to open up just a tiny bit. He'll become a little more protective of you, making sure his goons won't attack you if you're out in Gotham late and 'taking care of' anyone who gives you trouble. He might get you a gift here and there, pay for dinner, but he'll still stay somewhat distant. And if you eventually manage to get to the serious stage, he will become incredibly attached, lots of quality time, lots of gifts, lots of acts of service, and SO much praise over any little thing you do.

What type of love does he respond best to?: Physical touch, but only if it's serious. To get through the first part of your relationship you pretty much just have to stick around and not be an ass, because he'll be absolutely flabbergasted that you want anything to do with him, but he'll eventually get used to it and become attached because you're the only person(that isn't the Batfam) who's been with him this long. But if it gets serious, he'll love physical touch. Hugs, cuddles, sleeping in the same bed, putting an arm around your shoulder, massaging your thighs.. Just touching you whenever he can.

Tim Drake -

How does he he show his love?: Quality time, and by quality time, I mean he stalks you. You won't know it, at least not until much later into the relationship, but if he actually likes you he'll stalk you from the beginning. Stalking your social medias, tracking your phone's location, watching you in the Batcave on the Gotham security footage. Maybe hacking into your security cams and watching you in your house/apartment if he's particularly lonely. Aside from that, early on he'll pay for dinner, buy you flowers, maybe get you some little trinkets that he finds cool.. As you start dating he'll start to help you with school/work, putting his smarts and skills to the test to help you out with things. He always seems to know when you need help, somehow? (It's the stalking). When you get serious he'll warm up to you fully and start just being his weird lil' self, no longer masking his odd behavior around you.

What type of love does he respond best to?: Physical touch(but usually only when he's sleepy), and words of affirmation. He doesn't mind physical touch usually, but it won't always do much for him except for when he's feeling sleep deprived, in which case he craves your warmth and touch. He especially needs the words of affirmation, because he's sort of lacking that in his life right now (Though, his family[-Damian lol] are trying hard to make up for that, they're working on it), and it makes him feel useful and wanted. And like his own person for once.

Damian Wayne -

How does he show his love?: In the first two stages of the relationship he won't really show that he cares, he might be a bit less aggressive to you then everyone else, but he's still not exactly the nicest. However, if you manage to get to a serious relationship, you'll have proved that you're actually there for him, and you'll notice a more dramatic change. He'll become much more open, start smiling more often, get a little more touchy, shower you with beautiful art he painted of you.. You were the one who helped him learn to be less violent, so by extension he's willing to rely on you.

What type of love does he respond best to?: Words of affirmation, because he has an ego that needs to be stroked. Even when you get serious and he becomes more open, Damian is still at his core a pretty narcissistic and arrogant guy, and he still acts on impulse thinking that he's better and smarter then any of his enemies. So, if you want him to be all flattered.. Just compliment his fighting skills.. Or, y'know, tell him how much better then Tim he is.

Y'all can add the others if you want, I don't know enough about the other characters to do them yet :]

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carolmunson · 8 months

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because you were home.

the first entry of my fall frenzy extravaganza

this request comes in from @sweetsweetjellybean: "i would like to request watching a scary movie with steve and eddie that ends with 2 dicks one hole." summary: mildly inspired by 'the strangers' movie. steddie x reader. you and your two boyfriends watch a scary movie even though you hate them. a scary dream wakes you up to more than you bargained for, but they're happy to make up for it. (aka, carol tries some subtle horror/suspense writing for the first time ever!) cw: 18+, established throuple, dvp (double vaginal penetration), oral (f and m receiving), mmf threesome, pet names: angel, babydoll, sweetheart, etc., reader refers to eddie and steve as daddy/sir once or twice but its not like -- their dynamic -- not a dom/sub scenario (justice for steve being sir for once!), swearing, mild horror elements

“Ooh, shiii-hi-hit. Fuck that.” “What’s happening?” you ask, your voice muffled by Steve’s shoulder where your face had been planted for the last four minutes. “No matter how many scary movies I see, nothing creeps me out like this scene, man,” Eddie shakes his head, another handful of popcorn crunching into his mouth. “What. Is. Happening?” you ask again, frustrated at your own inability to just look – but you didn’t wanna miss out on the scare-factor.

“Nothing, baby,” Steve chuckles, warm and sweet. His big hand gives your bicep a comforting squeeze, running his palm slowly over the skin before he pulls you closer, “One of the weirdos is just standing there, nothing’s happening.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say nothing’s happening – it’s one of the most quietly suspenseful and unsettling scenes in modern horror,” Eddie argues while your head pops up. As soon as your eyes meet his, shining from the light of the TV in the living room, he grins – the one he always does when he’s about to be an asshole.

“Let me rewind it for you,” his smirk lingers when he reaches for the remote, “You can’t miss it – it’s like, niche horror iconography.”

“C’mon Ed, you know she doesn’t like it,” Steve’s defense almost feels patronizing, sinking in your chest even while his arm tightens around you, “She never wants to do movie night when it’s scary.” “No, it’s fine – I’ll just, I’ll watch it,” you sigh, eyes reaching the ceiling with a faux annoyed huff, “For the iconography.” “Atta girl,” Eddie rewinds while you climb over Steve to get between them. If the room hadn’t been so dark, you’d see Ed’s flush while you make yourself comfortable. Always a sucker for affection, he leans in close, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Bein’ so brave.” He starts the scene over again, a few minutes before, both of them scooching in next to you. You’re used to the heat now, the warmth of them near you, tied up between them. At first it was hard to balance it – who touches where, who holds what – but having them both became a waltz you danced well. The both of them easily knowing the rhythms of you and each other in healthy and decadent symbiosis. “Will you just – stay on the phone with me?” Liv Tyler’s voice booms through Steve’s surround sound, the dial tone humming loudly afterwards, “James? … James?” You let a breath out through your nose, watching her walk through the house on the screen, settling on lighting a cigarette before walking into the kitchen. She stands there for a moment before the screen cuts to a wide, you already feel sick. There’s no music, no sound, just Liv in the kitchen with darkness back behind her. With no warning, he appears, the man in the mask, in complete silence.

Your stomach drops, throat feeling tight when you watch him stand there watching her. You hardly feel soothed when he disappears, knowing it can only get worse from here. The killers are in the house.

Steve and Eddie see your face, the way your brows pull in, the way you shrink in on yourself. “Poor baby,” Steve soothes rubbing his hand on your back, “C’mere, I’ll protect you.” “You couldn’t outsmart these guys,” Eddie’s matter-of-fact tone makes Steve tense up, “Sorry. They’re in it for the thrill, man. They don’t care about your macho shit.” “That’s not reassuring,” you laugh, snuggling into Steve while Eddie lets his hand smooth over your thigh, “I need you both to protect me.” “Of course,” Eddie smiles, “We’d both keep you safe, for sure.” “For sure,” Steve nods, kissing the top of your head. Your hand creeps forward to lace your fingers with Eddie’s, still resting on your leg while the movie continues.

“James?” Liv says again on screen, heading to the drawer for a kitchen knife when a bang is heard somewhere off screen. You can’t help it, your face buries itself in Steve’s shoulder when the action picks up, doing your best to be brave and failing miserably. It’s not for nothing, your failure – they both have a great time laughing at you.

You’re pouty when the movie is over, the kisses aren’t helping for the first time in a while. There’s a general unease in your stomach – some horror was fine, but horror that could happen just didn’t compartmentalize as well. Your stomach sinks more when you see Eddie put his jacket on. “You’re not staying over with us?” you ask. Eddie’s shoulders sink while he shrugs on the leather, “Sorry baby, I have an early shift tomorrow. Gotta sleep at mine to be close to the garage. Why, you scared?” You nod, “Is that stupid?” “No,” he grins, “But you have Steve, he can protect you, too.” “You literally said he couldn’t outsmart them,” you try to laugh but it sounds more like a desperate plea, heart rate rising. “It’s a movie, honey,” Steve’s balmy voice soothing you while he comes back in the living room from cleaning up, “Just relax.” “You want the number one tension goblin to relax?” Eddie scoffs, “Good luck with that.” A kiss to both of your cheeks is Eddie’s last parting gift to you and Steve before he goes, the rev of his motorcycle being the only signal that he’s gone for the night. Steve’ burly tan arm wraps around your shoulder to lead you both back to the couch. “How about this,” he starts, pulling your legs over his lap, “We can watch something funny and then go to bed, s’that sound good for you?” You nod eagerly, shoulders loosening up while he flicks through the channel listings. “They have Austin Powers on TBS, you wanna watch that? It looks like they’re playing all of ‘em,” his amber eyes fall on you with a smile, rubbing your shin up to your knee. He changes the channel when you give him the okay, watching you snuggle in on the couch with tired eyes. It’s not long into the first movie that Steve’s nudging you to wake up so you can both go upstairs to bed.

You wake from a dream that makes your heart race in the bad way, losing the plot completely when your eyes open. The room is dark, only some light from Steve’s security cameras outside leaving shadows against the wall from the curtains.You turn and reach your arm out to shake Steve awake but you’re met with nothing but empty sheets, cooled down from the lack of a body there to warm them. You pout while your heart pounds, taking a few deep breaths to try to steady yourself to go back to sleep. He’s probably in the bathroom – but that thought makes you have to pee. With a sigh you get up, gingerly getting out of bed and scanning the room. Even though you fell asleep laughing to Mike Meyers the uneasy feeling in your chest never quite shook away. You pad down the hall to the bathroom, confused when you see that it’s empty. Maybe he went to get a drink or something in the kitchen. You do your business, leaving the bathroom and listening for Steve downstairs from the top of the staircase, peering down into the dark living room. It’s quiet. “Steve?” you call out.

Nothing.

The blue black of the dark house stares back at you, you swallow thickly. The pin pricks of fear that you woke up with creep down your neck and the top of your back, they sting up from the balls of your feet. You try to muster up the courage to call out again. “St-steve? You there?” you call out, your voice weak.

Nothing.

You take another breath, shakier than before. Maybe he’s using the half bath down stairs. You shake your head, rolling your shoulders and taking a step away from the staircase to go back to bed. Two steps in and your body is jolted by the blast of the stereo in the living room, the lights from the machine whirring on while music blares through the speakers. ‘My first lover, My first lover, He was tall and breezy with his long hair down. But it gets a little hazy when I think of it now…’

You run down the stairs to shut it off, certain the neighbors heard it, Your heart hammers in your chest, blood pounding in your ears while you slam the buttons and hold your hands to the cool machinery. You feel sick, bile creeping up your throat while you breathe in and out again.

“STEVE?!” you shout out, tears welling in your eyes, “Steve! This – this isn’t funny…”

But again.

With the music off.

Nothing.

You grab a heavy trophy from one of the shelves, a nationals first place from when Steve won the freestyle stroke in college – no one’s ever beat his PR. You inch through the living room, clicking on a lamp so the room illuminates in a hazy yellow glow. You grip the trophy, base upwards with the points of it at your eye level, arm at the ready. You creep slowly through the kitchen, clicking on the light over the oven, peering into the living room again and over your shoulder. No one. Nothing. You walk forward into the dining room, turning on the light, peering out from the sliding doors to the back yard. Nothing. You take a final breath. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s just a movie.

Right?

CLANG!

You jump, attention toward the door to the garage in the back of the dining room. You raise the trophy again, mustering up the courage to go to the door. Through the small crack in the bottom you see the lights are on, you swallow again. With a final breath through the nose you clutch the door handle, wrenching it open – ready to swing.

“Woah there, champ,” Steve laughs, looking up from the side of his truck. He pulls off his over ear headphones and cocks his head, “Is that my swim trophy?” “Uh, yeah…” you respond sheepishly, lowering it down to your thigh. Your heart starts to steady, cheeks burning with embarrassed heat while he comes around from behind his truck. “Did I wake you up, honey? I’m sorry,” he says softly, wiping his hands off on a rag. He’s in his sleep shirt but back in his jeans, sneakers unlaced on his feet.

“No I –” you falter, feeling stupid and silly, “I had a bad dream and you weren’t there so like – I don’t know. Then the stereo turned on downstairs and I heard a bang so – why’re you in the garage?” “I forgot about my break pads – they’re swamped at the shop so I told Ed not to worry and I’d just do it myself,” he shrugs with a laugh, “Little harder than it looks but – can’t put her back on the road until she’s all set. Woke up in a cold sweat about it.”

“You um, didn’t hear me calling you?” you ask warily. “Had my headphones on, baby, my bad.” “And the stereo?” you urge, “It was like…really fucking loud.” “That was probably me by accident,” he assures, taking a tiny remote out of his back pocket, “I got the remote for the speakers in here too, so, must’ve sat on it. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.” “Just a lil’,” your shoulders droop, heat pricking your cheeks and chest. “Aw, I’m sorry,” he coos, coming toward you to put a sloppy kiss on your cheek, “I’m almost done, I’ll be back upstairs in a minute. Would you get me some water?” “Okay,” you chirp, taking a big breath before heading back into the house. You pad through the dining room and back into the kitchen, reaching over the sink to grab a glass from the cabinet. You let the cool water run over your fingers for a moment, chuckling at yourself for being so stupid while you place the trophy on the counter with a thud.

You fill the glass for yourself first, letting the chill of the water bring you back to center. You take a few sips, leaning against the counter and looking through the archways to the other rooms – sleepy looking with their warm low lights on. You always forget how cozy Steve’s house looks, especially in the fall. You snort, hearing Steve’s soft ‘Shit! Come on!’ from the garage after something else clangs to the ground. You down the rest of the water and turn again to refill it for Steve, humming the song from the stereo. You shut off the water when you feel like someone is watching you, unease brewing in your chest again. You turn around quickly, but no one is there, just the sound of Steve working in the background. Back to the sink you finish filling up the glass, looking up at the window above the counter. Your reflection looks back. You drop the glass, hitting the stainless steel with a shattering fall. Behind you, in the dark of the dining room, is exactly what you’d feared you’d see. Standing there. Idle. Watching you. A man in a mask. You freeze, sharp breaths puffing out of your nose, heart rattling in your chest. You shut your eyes tight and count to three, opening them again only to let out a blood curdling shriek at the reflection – he’s still there, just closer. You grab the trophy and turn around with abandon while Steve bursts in through the side door. “What’s happening, what’s going on?!” he asks, running in. “There’s – there’s there’s, there’s someone in the – in the house – in the house!” You gasp out in stuttering breaths, tears pouring down your face. “Who?! Whose in the house?!” he asks, brows raised, frazzled. “A man!” you screech, “The man! The man in the mask!” “Fuck, fuck,” Steve huffs, rifling into the drawer for a kitchen knife, “Stay here – stay right here and call the police.” You watch him walk toward the living room, “Steve don’t! Don’t! We have to g-get out!” “Baby – just call. The. Pol–”

“My first lover, My first lover, He was always talking tryin to bring me down, But I was not waiting for a white wedding gown...”

The music blares again, so loud it’s disorienting. You scream, eyes blurry with tears while you walk backward to the corner of the kitchen by the fridge where a house phone sits on the wall. Shaking you reach for it, watching as it clatters clumsily to the floor. “Are you calling?!” Steve asks, fear lacing his own voice while he slams the stereo off, “What the fuck is happening?!” “I’m c-calling!” you yell back, seeing him come back into the kitchen with his chest heaving. You reach down for the phone only to realize, to your horror, that the cord is cut, “I – baby I…” “Shit,” Steve huffs, “M-my phone, where’s my cell?” “Upstairs I – oh my fucking god,” you freeze, eyes big and glassy when you see him, the man in the mask. “Wh-what?” Steve asks, slowly turning around, “Oh fuck, fuck. L-look man, hey – I – I don’t want any trouble.” The man stands there, masked head tilting when he takes a step forward. “D-do you want money? Something? My car? Anything man – I swear.” The slow step becomes a full steam ahead, another screech pouring out of you while you see his gloved hand reach for Steve. You cover your head in your hands, shaking, wondering how you can make it from here to the garage unscathed – you brace for Steve’s broken scream.

But instead. A laugh. Two. Two laughs. Two very familiar laughs. “Why would I want your car when you can’t even fix the fuckin’ break pads?” Eddie’s muffled voice echos from behind the mask. He pulls it off, taking a breath, “Fuck, that things hot.” “I fixed them just fine,” Steve hisses in faux annoyance. “H-huh?” you look up with tear streaked cheeks, “Wh-what is this?” “Oh honey, we didn’t mean to scare you that bad,” Steve coos. “It’s just me, babydoll,” Eddie smiles, voice gentle, “It’s me.” “What the fuck?” you ask, still against the wall by the fridge with your heart hammering. “S’just a prank honey, we were just fucking with you,” Eddie says softly, taking a step toward you that makes you flinch, “Hey…you okay?” “No Ed, I’m not fucking okay,” you bark, “What is wrong with you? With both of you?” “We didn’t think you were gonna get so freaked out, angel,” Steve sighs, “I’m sorry. We’re sorry.”

“Are you mad?” Eddie pouts, putting the mask on the counter. “Yeah,” you nod, standing up, “I’m fucking mad. And I’m sure the neighbors are gonna call the fucking cops from all the screaming and yelling.” “Babe, hey, c’mon it was a joke,” Steve’s shoulder slump when you brush past him, “Let’s just get cozy upstairs, okay? We can all go to bed.” “Fuck you,” you huff, stomping up the stairs, “Both of you.”

They follow you like puppies up the stairs, closing in on you when you make it back into the bedroom. Soft apologies and kisses to your cheeks, surrounded by them – their hands, their hair, their scent. Slipping around you like snakes, but sweet – anything to hypnotize you out of how mad you are. “Don’t be so pouty,” Steve coos, peeling off his shirt, “You’re okay, we won’t do it again.” “We’ll never do it again, I promise,” Eddie mumbles into a kiss by your ear, already down to his boxers, “We’re awful, we’re so awful.” Your knitted brows and sour pout stick while they do their best to get you to break, but it’s not until Eddie’s lips catch on that spot just below the hinge of your jaw that you let out a soft gasp. “There she is,” Eddie smirks into the next flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth, teasing the spot until your face relaxes. “C’mon,” Steve whispers, tugging your t-shirt over your head, “Let us make it all better, hm?”

“Lay down, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages while you get to the edge of the mattress. The comforter was still in the mess you left it in when you woke up from your dream. Despite your anger you do as he asks, not protesting while he slips your shorts and panties off without a second of hesitation.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he smirks, “Just how you like it.”

Your thighs part for him on their own accord, barely waiting a second before his mouth makes contact with your already slick center. You whimper and Eddie smiles into your cunt, slurping around your clit to get you stimulated quickly. Can’t be mad if you can’t think straight.

“Mmm, Ed like that,” you whine out, hips rolling up against his mouth.

“Already so wet for us, sweet thing,” he brags in a low voice, “Maybe you like bein’ scared.”

“No I – uhn…mmm…”

Eddie’s first two fingers slip in with little resistance, coaxing soft needy moans out of you with each pump, each soft tease of his tongue. He lets out a dreamy sigh while your legs pull up to your chest, revealing more of yourself to him. He busies his mouth while looking over the expanse of your body, watching Steve lean in to kiss you. Your hand entwines in Eddie’s hair, scratching at his scalp softly while he wraps his arms around your thighs. He could eat you all night. “I know you’re not kneeling closer to me so I’ll suck you off,” you stare up at Steve in disbelief. “I uh…well,” Steve bites his lip, redness building on his cheeks. He looks down at you, kneeling by your face on the mattress with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. His chain glints in the low light from the sconces above the bed, catching in his chestnut hair – too handsome, it was unfair. “You want me to suck your dick after all that? You think you deserve it?” you ask, eyes rolling when Eddie’s fingers curl up against you – letting out a sinful moan.

“Well when your mouth hangs open like that,” Steve chuckles coolly. He leans down again to capture you in a kiss, stroking himself while he does. He nuzzles your nose when he breaks away, “You wanna sit on my face?” Your breath catches, nodding eagerly. “M’kinda in the middle of something,” Eddie says from between your thighs. “Well you can be in the middle of somethin’ else, Munson,” Steve grins while you change positions to him lying on his back. Your legs straddle over him, ass in his face while you look down the rest of his body. Steve pulls you down firmly, tongue gliding between your folds in a slow back and forth at first, pushing his face in it. You yelp when he flicks his tongue over your swollen, sensitive clit; thighs twitching while he finds his rhythm. “Hmm, you’re close, aren’t you?” Steve teases while pulling away for air.

“Y-yes sir,” you sigh back, hips bouncing gently against his mouth for more friction.

Eddie pulls his boxers off, tossing them on the floor and reaching for a forgotten scrunchy on Steve’s dresser to pull his hair back. He crawls back onto the bed, giving you a soft kiss, “You look so pretty right now.”

“Thank you,” you whisper against his full pink lips, kissing him back. You lean down with him, watching as he kisses Steve’s stomach, right by his happy trail, taking his cock in his ringed hand. A glob of spit falls from his mouth, working Steve’s shaft with a precision only another person with one could have.

Steve groans into your pussy, louder when Eddie takes the tip in his mouth. Your mouth waters against your better judgment, body betraying you when you lean forward onto your hands to meet Eddie at Steve’s cock. You kiss again, both tongues flicking together over Steve’s swollen head making him whimper between your legs. You both let your lips graze his length, leaving wet kisses in their wake before Eddie takes over again. You gather his curls so you can watch him, the visual sending you right over the edge when he starts to touch himself in time.

“Good girl,” Steve coos softly, evidence of your orgasm on his chin while you shimmy off his face.

Eddie comes back up with a breathy smile, hazily letting them direct you while Steve pushes up to sit against the pillows propped up on the head board.

“Think you should get filled up, pretty girl,” Steve says softly, “You wanna?”

You nod, straddling Steve, letting his hands skate over the tops of your thighs while you let yourself sink down onto him. His head thuds back against the headboard, eyes closing when your walls snuggly fit around him – warm and wet.

“Think you can do both?” he asks, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest.

Your brow quirks, “We do that all the time.” “No, no, baby,” Eddie smirks, coming up behind you, “Both of us in the same place.” Your head turns around, looking down at Eddie’s length in his hand, thinking about how thick Steve is inside you already while he thrusts up lazily. “S’not gonna fit,” you hesitate. Eddie kisses your shoulder, “I think we can fit, just keep bouncin’ on Steve for me.” “You like to watch?” you wink while looking back at him, finding a cadence that makes the fat of your ass shake.

“You know I do,” he replies, voice low and gravely – it hits the pit of your stomach. Steve signals Eddie to come forward, crawling up over one of his thighs. “You can do it, babe,” Steve encourages, holding you in place, “You’re already soaked.”

You feel him push in, one hand on your lower back while the other guides his length to aid in pressing over Steve. You let out a low groan, sweat beading at your hairline while your eyes nearly cross from the stretch. Your brows pinch together, mouth hanging open in that desperate way that makes Steve primal with need. “Ooh, does that feel good, baby? Does it feel good?” he asks, voices light and sing-songy. “Y-yeah, oh – oh fuck -” you huff when Eddie does a slow practice thrust, to see where you’re both at. Eddie moans once he finds the pace, unforgiving fingers clutching you for balance. Steve chuckles at your face, forefinger and thumb reaching under your chin to press into your cheeks. “F-fuck I’m so…I’m so, sssooo…” “Sssoooo full. That’s right, so full, aren’t you honey?” he grins, mocking you now with a little shake to your face, “Look at you. You like that? You like gettin’ filled up like this?” “Yeah,” you whine while Eddie starts a steady pace, both men grunting at the pleasure of you tightening around them. The slide of themselves against each other makes Steve’s breath hitch when his hips cant upward in time.

“Shit, Ed,” Steve grunts, fingertips sinking into your hips. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head while he presses a wet kiss to your neck, “Fuck.” “Yeah? S’my dick nice, pretty boy?” Ed winks down, hand entwining in your hair at the root while the other cruelly grips you at the waist. You’ll feel that grip tomorrow, both of them – party favors for the pleasure you’re feeling now. Steve nips at your neck, listening to your panting, your whines – at this rate you look like you don’t even know your own name. You start to falter, leaning down into him while your arms give out, face finding home in the crook of his neck and the dying scent of his cologne. “Hey, you still mad at me?” Eddie asks breathily. Your scalp screams in a delicious sting when he pulls you up by your hair, back arching deep to make you face him. You struggle against it at first, tilting your head down to look at Steve whose tongue has flicked out to tease one of your nipples. “Look at daddy, honey,” he chastises in a low heated tone, teeth grazing the hardened bud, “Look up at daddy.” Eddie’s laugh is low, bubbling from his tummy when you finally relent, leaning your neck back to look at him. Even upside down he’s pretty – hair falling mostly out of the scrunchy he stole, leaving messy curls wild around his face. “You still mad at me, babydoll?” he grunts out, “You still mad?” His free hand reaches around to cup your jaw, leaning in to give you a hungry kiss. He growls into it, pumping deeper in short thrusts. A choked moan pours out of you when they move in tandem, Steve sliding out while Eddie slides in. “Aw, you don’t look mad,” he taunts. Another kiss before his face hovers over yours, grinning, pleased with himself, “You look so gone, holy shit.”

“M’n-not m-mad anymore, daddy,” you nearly cry, voice tight, “Fuck – harder.” “Harder?” his brow quirks, “You hear that Steve? She wants it harder.” “Yeah, I heard her,” he grunts, “Give her back to me.” Eddie lets go of your hair without a thought, dropping you into Steve’s chest like a rag doll. He props you up above him, his big hand around your jaw this time while Eddie keeps both his tight on your waist for leverage. With as much strength as you can muster you hold yourself up on your forearms, limply bouncing forward with each thrust. “You want it harder, pretty girl?” Steve asks, looking up at you – his own eyes are blown, completely flushed from double the pleasure. “Pl-please,” you huff, “Please, sir.” “Hmm, you know I like when you say that,” he grins, “Ask again.” “Please fuck me harder, sir,” your eyes roll when you feel Eddie’s chest against your back, both of them closing in on you. “So good,” Steve breathes, “That’s a good girl.” You feel the tickle of Eddie’s curls on your shoulder while he leans over you to get to Steve, wrapping a hand in his auburn hair to pull him up for a deep kiss. You listen to them, watching while their eyes flutter closed, pace picking up inside you while their tongues fight each other for dominance – ending in heated smiles, always a draw. Nose to nose they watch each other, your face to the side on Steve’s chest.

“Spread her open for me, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, leaning in for another greedy kiss before making the move to push up off your back. Steve pulls him back down eagerly, bicep flexing while he holds Eddie by the back of the head for another searing kiss, “Spread her open, huh? Like you do for me?” “Shut up,” Ed flushes, biting his lower lip while he looks down at him before pressing his lips to your cheek and pushing up. He holds you in place with one hand on the dip between your neck and shoulder, the other grazing down to your upper back. Steve hands slide down to your ass, gripping hard to spread you open from the bottom. With a little more space, Eddie’s pace quickens, your breaths punching in scattered rhythm when Steve plants his feet on the mattress to fuck up into you. “Ohmygod, oh my god fuck,” you cry out, “I c-can’t I’m gonna…oh fuck, I’m so – I’m so close don’...don’stop please.” “That’s it angel,” Steve encourages, “You’re doin’ so good.” “So good, baby,” Eddie adds on gruffly, “Really t-takin’ it.” Steve let’s go of one ass cheek to cup your face, thumb tracing over the supple skin in welcome gentleness. You lean down in a tired slump, lips marrying his – the mint of his mouthwash still on his tongue when it slides into your mouth. He groans through it, hips stuttering – adding more rigid stimulation against his cock while they both thrust deep inside you. You nearly go dumb when they both hit the same spot, clamping down over both of them while you see white. Tears well in your eyes while they fuck you through it, babbling like you’re possessed when the pleasure teeters on becoming too much past your orgasm. “Sh-shit oh, angel that’s it – fuck that pussy’s so..mmm -fuck,” he grunts, pressing his hips up against you while you feel him spill inside.

“Oh god,” Eddie whimpers out, the warmth from Steve’s release coating over his cock, making it slicker. Steve eases out, kissing you passionately while you suddenly feel empty without them both stretching you to the brim. “Get on your back for me, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs, soft and needy, “Wanna see you.” They gently get you on your back, back to soft kisses and touches like before. Eddie can tell you’re already two deep, not wanting to get you past the point of feeling good – and you’re close. “Can you take some more?” he asks, running his knuckles over your cheek, “It’s okay if you can’t.” “I can do it,” you rasp out, chuckling a little, “I’m very brave.” Eddie laughs, caging you in under him with Steve pressed to your side, “So brave, babydoll.” “I’ll go slow,” he nuzzles into your neck, bangs brushing against your ear, “M’still sorry.”

The three of you lay there under the sheets, collecting your breaths on the come down. Steve’s fingers are laced with yours while he lays on his stomach, Eddie’s hand rests on your waist while he lays on his side. “I have to pee,” you frown into the quiet. “Go pee,” Steve murmurs, half asleep into the pillow. “I can’t.” “Why?” Steve’s eyes open. “I’m too scared,” you whine, “I don’t wanna go by myself in the dark.” Steve lets out a famous Harrington sigh, “Do you need me to come with you?” “And do what? Yell at me to call the police if something bad happens?” Eddie giggles, stretching out on the bed, “She’s got a point Harrington.” “Eddie’s right, they’d outsmart you so fast,” you shrug, “Will you both come with me?” “Yeah,” they huff in unison, shuffling out of the covers and lazily finding their bottoms on the floor. They lead you down the hallway, feeling much better with both of them flanking your sides. And it helps of course, that they turned all the lights on.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

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