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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

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pining & desperately waiting | javier peña

take the weight off his shoulders - chapter two

Chapter Summary | As much as he’s trying to keep his distance there is just something about you that Javier cannot stay away from. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, so to speak. He's worried about you too, putting yourself in harms way for your work.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, mention of smoking and drinking alcohol, mention of drugs, drug deaths and the drug trade, explicit smut - masturbation (F)

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | When I tell you I love this (specific) man, I am telling you I love him. He consumes me. Thank you to @hellishjoel for letting me scream about these two with her and helping me figure this chapter out! If you like this I would love for you to join me in my ask box for screaming and please consider reblogging to support me! If you enjoyed this, you can make a donation to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to support me that way.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

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You dream of him every night for a week after that night at the bar. They’re filthy, depraved sometimes, and you always wake up, slick pooling between your thighs, fingers working furiously before your alarm goes off to try a satiate you, or at least tide you over until you can climb back into bed that night and really take your time to imagine all the ways Javier would take you apart with his fingers, with his mouth, with his….

“Are you even listening to me?”

You want to answer honestly and say no, you were busy daydreaming about getting railed by your dad’s buddy, but when you look across the table and see your boss practically glaring at you, you realise it’s probably for the best to lie a little.

“Sorry,” You mumble, picking up your pen, “Didn’t sleep well, what were you saying?”

“The fundraiser tomorrow,” She speaks, “For Dylan’s foundation, would you be okay to cover it?”

You nod, because it makes sense for it to be you. Dylan had overdosed just over a year ago – seemingly on top of things, doing well in school and incredibly bright, found slouched over on a street corner, dead from an overdose before he’d been able to leave the small town for whatever bright lights he was destined for. He was just one of a string of drug-related deaths over the past twelve months – an ‘epidemic’ as they had coined it – the town too close to Mexico to escape the trade that Javier himself had worked so hard to quell. Dylan’s parent’s had set up a small foundation after his death, hoping to help other young kids who could be lured into this stuff to have other opportunities in their lives.

“What kinda thing are you thinking?” You ask, starting to jot down notes as she speaks.

“Just some reaction from people there, why they’ve decided to come out and support, maybe try and grab one of his parents, just the usual really, and we can run a story in the following days, might help drum up some more support for them if nothing else.”

You nod, doing your usual with your notes of underlining the important parts, making notes on the kind of questions you’ll ask when you speak to people, “How many words have I got to work with?”

“I think we can give them a page,” She says, looking to her boss who nods in agreement, “So whatever you produced for last month’s story, that should be good.”

You nod, making a note of that too, and then continue to zone out for the rest of the meeting as everyone talks amongst themselves, mind going right back to Javi and what he would feel like putting his weight on you, settling between your thighs. You really needed to get a grip.

“Oh, isn’t it so nice to see such a good turn out today?” Your mom gushes, looking around at what feels like the whole of Laredo milling about a number of stalls that are selling all sorts of different things.

“Sure is good to see,” Your dad agrees, putting his hands on your shoulders to give them a squeeze, “You want us to leave you to your reporting, pumpkin?”

The nickname makes you wince a little, a moniker from your early days, before you’d filled out into your body. It was cute, but at twenty-five years of age, you do sometimes wish he’d find something else to call you.

“I shouldn’t be too long,” You turn around and smile at him, “I can come and find you in a little while.”

You wander around, introducing yourself to a few people asking them questions and jotting down notes. You’ve just finished speaking to Martina, famous throughout town for owning her own candle business, about why she’s supporting the foundation, when you step back and feel two sturdy hands holding onto your waist. You’re about to turn around and slap whoever it is for touching you, when that deep voice hits your ears.

“Careful, querida,” Javier fucking Peña, “Almost stood on my foot.”

You whip around, mainly to put a bit of distance between the two of you, because it felt like his lips had been inches from your ear. He drops one of his hands, but keeps the other ghosting at your side, maybe to keep you steady more than anything as you wobble from the speed at which you’ve turned around.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand too close then?” You offer, making sure it comes out more playful than anything, because actually, all you really want is for his body to press against you more often.

“Fair point,” He shrugs, “Thought I recognized you so I wanted to say hi,” He finally lets that other hand drop from your waist, “So hi.” Is... Is he nervous?

You chuckle a little, “Hi,” you respond simply with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you here,” You say honestly, this wasn’t his kind of scene before, you can’t imagine it’s any more appealing to him now, “Didn’t think it was your kind of scene.”

He rubs a hand nervously over the back of his neck, “It’s not, I’ve been made to come,” He nods his head behind him where Chucho is talking to a group of other ranchers, “Apparently I’ve got to start showing my face more.”

“Well, it’s a nice face,” your mouth speaks before your brain can catch up with what it’s saying, you inwardly cringe when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, I’m sure people are happy to see you around.” Is all you can think to say to try and get him to forget the weird compliment.

He seems to smile, but like it had been across the table almost two weeks ago, his smile seems forced, “Just wish I could skip the bullshit about everyone being proud of me.”

“But it’s true,” You shrug, moving away from the stall with him so other people can in front of you to look, “You did really good things out there.”

He scoffs now, shaking his head a little, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, querida,” He speaks, “Surely you should know that more than anyone.”

You don’t know what he’s actually trying to say, but you decide to play it light, “Are you accusing me of lying in my stories, Peña?” You say with a smirk.

“Perhaps not you,” He offers, “But I know plenty of journalists who know how to twist a story to get what they want,” He looks down at his shoes, kicking at the gravel a little, “Just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.”

“Been gone a long time,” You muse, “You might have to spend some time reminding me who you are.”

It’s flirting the lines of maybe being too much you think, but you’ve not said anything that’s not true. He has been gone a long time, and if what he’s said is anything to go by, he will have to remind you of who he is or show you how he’s changed.

“Not sure you’d like who I am now very much, querida.” He says simply.

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, tell him you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t be true and that there isn’t a thing he could do on this earth that would make you think he was a bad person, but before you can, Chucho is coming up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, mija,” He smiles at you, “You here alone?”

“Hey Chucho,” You greet with a smile, “Mom and dad are around somewhere, I’m just here working on a story.” You hold up your notepad and pen.

“Let’s see if we can’t find them, huh Javi?” Chucho muses to his son, “Get you a nice cold lemonade for when you’re finished?” He motions to the blazing sun and then back to you.

“Sounds lovely, thank you,” You motion over their shoulder to where Dylan’s parents are stood, “I just need to speak to them, and I’ll come and find you.”

Javi doesn’t say goodbye, just follows closely behind Chucho as they disappear into the crowds, leaving you to wander over to Dylan’s parents. They’re not strangers to the paper, your boss had written a story with them not long after Dylan’s funeral, trying to spread awareness as to just how deep the drug problem ran in town. The Laredo Morning Times had always been supportive to them, so you didn’t feel the same anxiety you normally did when gathering information for stories, cold calling or knocking on doors trying to introduce yourself before doors are swiftly shut in your face or phones are hung up with a ‘no comment’.

They’re warm with you as you speak to them, thanking you for coming, thanking the paper for agreeing to cover the event, they even smile, which for a pair who lost their only son in such a horrible way still shocks you for some reason. Their loss hasn’t defined them, only made them stronger, made them determined to stop their pain from happening to anyone else. You make a note to write something equally as poetic in your article.

The crowds are thinning out a little as the midday sun does its worst. You can feel beads of sweat gathering behind our knees and you curse the fact you hadn’t remembered your hat. You can feel the heat prickling your skin as you spot your parents, sitting on a picnic bench with Javi and Chucho sat opposite them. When you’re close enough to the table, you can see everyone has plastic cups full of lemonade, but there’s one, put in front of the spare spot on the bench next to Javi, that is pink in colour instead of the cloudy yellow of everyone else’s.

“You get everything you need?” Your dad asks, as you try and fight your legs over the bench in the most graceful way possible.

“Yeah,” You nod, “Think it’ll make a great piece, Dylan’s parents seem really positive about it all,” You pick up the cup and take a sip, pink lemonade, your favourite, “Thanks for this.” You nod in the direction of your dad.

“Don’t thank me, Javi got these,” He smiles, “Remembered you preferred pink lemonade and everything.”

It actually makes your heart swell in your chest. He was always thoughtful, even before he left. Observant almost to a fault. But even after all these years, all of his stress, everything he’s seen, he still knows you well enough to know you prefer the sweeter pink lemonade. You turn your head to him to find him already looking at you with a little smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, sipping through the straw.

“You’re welcome, dulzura.”

Javier Peña is doing a piss poor job of staying away from you, even by his standards. He lasted less than a week before he was waltzing over to you, hands on your waist, buying you pink lemonade because he knows you prefer it. There hasn’t been a night where he hasn’t wrapped his fist around his cock and made himself cum over the thought of you. He finds it easier to drop off to sleep once he’s done it, but his nights are still fitful, full of nightmares, tossing and turning, waking up to sweat soaked sheets and a heaving chest. He wonders briefly, when he lies awake watching the dawn arrive through his curtains, whether your body next to him would ease his nightmares? But then he thinks what if it doesn’t. What if you have to wake up, look at him with those innocent doe eyes and see him for what he really is? No, he can’t let his darkness cloud you, you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone that going to be gentle with you, someone softer, not him with all his jagged edges.

He's currently sitting in his truck, just outside of the liquor store, contemplating how badly he wants that packet of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d driven out to buy. He’d done alright so far, chewing on his Nicorette gum, but his fingers are itching for the familiarity of a cigarette between his fingers, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night.

Then, almost like he’s being punished by God, which would make sense really, all things considered, you’re in his eyeline, walking down the street with a woman who is a little older than you, with your notepad and pen clutched in your hand. It’s late and he wonders where you must be going to report at such a late hour, and then he worries, because in his experience, nothing good happens after dark that worth making the newspapers. As the two of you approach him, he leans further out of his open window, holding his arm out to catch your attention.

“Hey Javi,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of his window, “What are you doing in town?”

“Just picking a few things up,” He answers simply, because this isn’t about him, he needs to know where you’re going, “Where are you going this late?”

You turn to the older woman you’re with, tell her to go on ahead and you’ll catch her up, “There’s been some kind of drugs bust a few streets over,” You explain, “Sounds like it might be quite big so we’re just going down to see what’s happening.”

“Your dad working it?” He asks, because if he is, he knows you’ll be okay.

You shake your head, “Nah, he’s not on nights right now,” You’re shifting back and forth on your feet, clearly itching to get going, “I’ll be alright though, sounds like plenty of dad’s officers are down there.”

He turns his head back to the steering wheel and then back to you, “Be careful, alright?”

You smile at him again and if he’s not careful, he really could get used to being the person who draws that from you more often, “I know what I’m doing,” You chuckle slightly, and he doesn’t doubt it, not really, “Been covering this kinda shit for a while.”

Without really thinking about it, he leans over, roots around in the glovebox and pulls out the little card he knows that’s in there. He passes it over to you, letting you take it, “It’s got my number on it,” He explains, “I’ve been in this shit and I just…” He trails off with a sigh, “Just, call me before you write something that might get you in trouble, okay?”

“Worried about me, Peña?” You smirk, and he thinks above your smile, he’d like to make you smirk more too.

“I’ve just seen too many good journalists write things that ruin their careers,” He shrugs, trying to play it off but probably doing a terrible job of it, “Don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

He watches as you turn the card over in your fingers a few times, before smiling at him one last time, “I’ll call you if need you.” And he really hopes you do.

In that moment, he gives up on trying to resist the call of the liquor store, pulling out his keys from the ignition and opening his door, climbing down onto the pavement. He stalls a little, before he puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “Go and get your story, reporter.” And then motions his head for you to go.

He buys a bottle of whiskey and two packs of cigarettes, smokes two of them before he gets home. He thinks if he were a stronger man he’d have managed to quit, but he’s not, especially when it comes to you. Sure, he knew you before, but this new you? He’s known less than a month and he’s already struggling to stick to his own rules. He steps down from his truck back on the ranch, walks in and pours himself a healthy double, trying to convince himself it’ll be okay, he just needs to keep to himself, but when he’s led in bed at night, thinking of your sweet smile, he thinks this might just be another thing he fails at.

It’s late. Too late for you to be awake when you have to be at the office in the morning, but you can’t stop looking at the series of numbers, printed on the little card, underneath the words ‘Javier Peña, DEA.’ It’s out of date, clearly, the DEA nothing more than a memory to him. But it’s the principle of it that matters most. He’s worried about you, and he would only worry if he cared right?

You set it on your nightstand, switch off the little lamp and plunge yourself into darkness, right at the same time as you plunge your hand under your sleep shorts and through your folds. You’re soaked, because you always are when you think about him, it’s actually sort of pathetic. You sink two fingers into yourself, only briefly, letting out a satisfied breath, dragging your slick fingers back you to slowly circle your clit.

It's new, the way you always need to take care of yourself. The brief relationship you’d had in college with James hadn’t given you much to work with, you hadn’t really felt desperation to get yourself off like this before.

Your other hand, currently running over your peaked nipples through your tank top, is itching to reach across to your nightstand, pick up the phone and dial that number. You want to breathe down the phone at him, tell him you’re being so bad, that you need him to help, need that deep voice to guide you through it. As you press your fingers harder into your clit, speeding up your circles and bucking your hips, you wonder what he’d actually do if you did call him. Would he tell you to get lost? You don’t think he would, you think he’d do exactly as you asked, talk you through it.

You imagine his voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You imagine his hand replacing your own, sinking his fingers into you, using his thumb to work your clit, the rough of his moustache running over the skin of your neck as he kisses you there. It’s the image of him looking down at you, smiling as he makes you cum that tips you over the edge. That flood of relief that rushes through you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from whispering his name as your body shakes through your orgasm.

You wipe your slick fingers on the skin of your thigh, roll over in bed so your back is to the phone, trying to get your breathing under control. You drag the covers up under your chin, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without imagining his strong arm around your waist, his broad chest against your back. Does he snore? You wonder as you try and fall asleep. Would he keep you warm? It’s all running through your head as you sleep, conjuring up dreams that come morning have you realizing something has to give, you have to know, you have to have him. You needed Javier Peña more than the air you breathe, no matter how bad it was to admit that, no matter what it meant, no matter what it would cost, you needed him and you think to yourself as you drive to work, that he might just need you as much as you need him.

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pablitogavii · 10 months

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Massage

I saw that Gavi didn't play today due to some back problems so there was an idea that sparked in my mind. Hope you enjoy the story more than the game :)

Pablo was in very much a bad mood after the game not even wanting to eat dinner but going straight to the hotel room with you.

Even after the virus outbreak, Pablo hasn't really felt all that well during training his back hurting him lots afterwards.

"He should have put me in!" Pablo said while laying in the bed staring at his phone and probably all the horrible comments from disappointed fans.

"He knows best amor.." you say knowing that Xavi just wanted to make sure Pablo recovers before El Classico and the beginning of the season.

"5:3! They humiliated us!" Pablo spat tossing his phone to the side and running his hands through his hair in frustration. You finished brushing your teeth and joined him in bed taking his phone and putting it on charge for tomorrow.

"I'm sorry you lost amor..and although there isn't much I can do about that, I might be able to help with your back?" you moved closer to him kissing his lips and then don his jaw and neck and he smiled nodding his head.

"Fix me doctora.." Pablo smirked and you blushed knowing how much he adored that you wanted to be a doctor in the future and always called you 'a rockstar' because of it.

"Lay on your stomach amor." you say and he moved closer kissing your lips with a little bit more force.

"Mm it's my favorite position when you're on your stomach princesa.." he whispered into your ear making your face burn in embarrassment as you slapped his shoulder and told him to stop messing around.

He finally stopped teasing you, and went to lay down after taking off his t-shirt. You grabbed some lotion and began massaging his back gently not applying to much force as to not hurt him further.

"How is this amor??" you ask after a few minutes hearing Pablo moaning in pleasure glad that he was relaxing and you could help in any way.

"Sooo good princesa..gracias" he said and you smiled leaning down and kissing the back of his neck which made goosebumps appear on the skin of his arm and that made you smirk.

"Are you cold Pablito...or am I making you feel too good??" you whisper into his ear seeing his smirk grow as he grabbed you with his strong arms flipping you over and hovering above you.

"it's not such a good idea to tease me when I'm angry preciosa.." his voice was low and so freaking sexy that you felt your mind scream at you to pull him down and kiss his lips..and you did just that.

"Or what?" you challenge seeing his eyes darken in lust as his hands gripped your thighs so tightly there will definitely be marks left in the morning.

"Or I will thank you for fixing my back by breaking yours.." he smirked kissing your neck as you moaned into his ear and snaked your legs around his torso..maybe there is another way to make your boy relax tonight.

"Are you sure you're in the mood for this right now??" And your back?" you asked after about fifteen minutes of heated make out session you shared and Pablo only smirked more.

"I'm always in the mood for you princesa.." he winked "but you're right, I should rest my back.." he said chuckling when he saw your disappointed eyes.

"So come here.." he flipped you back this time laying back and having you straddle his lap while moving his hands behind his head.

"Um.." you were shy when it came to intimacy only ever doing it with Pablo and usually being the one he dominates. But now he wanted you to take charge and that was a bit scary.

"Now you're going to be a good girl for papi..and ride him..while he rests his back" Pablo's voice was dark and your cheeks were red but you only nodded leaning in and kissing his lips again while you discarded each other's clothes piece by piece.

"J..joder amor! Keep bouncing like that!" Pablo's voice was raspy and it only turned you on more while you moved on his cock moaning when he gripped your ass making himself go even deeper.

"My good girl! My best girl! Making me feel so much better after a loss! F..fuck! I'm keeping you with me forever! Mine! All fucking mine!" he spoke nod moving his hips to match yours speeding up his pace until you both were chasing your orgasms.

"Oh..My..God..Pablo! I'm gonna cum baby..p.please" you were pleading and he loved to hear it grabbing your hair pulling it back while sucking on your neck which was enough to send you over your edge together with him.

While you were both catching your breath, you fell on top of him and he held you there as you listened to his even heartbeat. You tried to move but he wouldn't let you holding you against himself tightly.

"Let me stay inside of you amor..fuck I need this so badly!" he groaned and you blushed nodding your head and getting more comfortable leaving a few wet kisses on his hot skin.

"I love you so much Pablito!" you sigh finally calming down feeling yourself getting sleepy. Pablo kissed the top of your head holding you tightly with his strong arms.

"And I love you mi chica perfecta.." he replied before you both fell asleep as close to each other as possible enjoying the shared warmth you felt.

It was a sad loss :( Better luck next time!

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff

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ghostlychief · 11 months

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Don’t Blame Me

Pairing: MW2 Ghost x f!reader

Summary: They say love makes you crazy, so can they really blame you?

Warnings: mentions of blood, knife usage (stabbing, stabbing people’s eyes, eyes being ripped out of socket); mentions of combat fighting; hints of torture and injuries from torture; typical MW2 lore

NSFW, MINORS DNI: blowjob, fingering, eating pussy; missionary; creampie; aftercare

WC: 7k+ (IK IT’S LONG)

A/N: hello hello! here is the long awaited ghost fic that’s been in development for quite awhile. Thank you so much for participating in my pole, and i hope you enjoy!!! I really let myself indulge in more of the gore this time around, so please read with caution if that kind of content bothers you.

ENJOY🫶🏻🖤

You didn’t know blood could be this thick.

But, as you cut through the swarm of your opponents, you really don’t care how much of it gets on your clothes, seeps into your crevasses, and splashes on your face. No, you really don’t give a shit. Your only objective is to get to Ghost, and quickly.

All you see is red, literally.

Before you even fully process what you’re doing, the knife in your hand has already sunk into a neck, blood spurting everywhere, drenching you further. You carry on, the one person you’re trying to reach at the forefront of your mind.

Should you have felt some remorse for the lives you ended? Probably, but it was like you brain was turned off. Actually, no, that’s incorrect. It was like your brain was wired differently, like it was wired to focus on one thing and one thing only: retrieve Ghost.

You can’t recall when you two got separated, or when he got captured in your last mission. All you remember is the pain you felt when you noticed he’d been taken.

You could blame yourself for his capture, but you decided to turn your fury towards someone else rather than yourself. You realized over the years that self-loathing wasn’t very efficient. It tends to waste time.

It was easy after all; it’s not hard to hold contempt towards the people that stole your lover away from you.

This was their doing. I’m only showing them the consequences of their actions.

It’s what you had to tell yourself. Otherwise, you didn’t see how you were going to come out of this alive. You had to redirect your rage, your frenzy. You had to channel it through your veins, making sure it heated you, and coursed through in a way that burned.

It had to be this way. It was the only way to help you be relentless against your opponents.

You were pretty proud of your knife skills; it was your favorite weapon after all. You always made sure to carry at least two with you at all times.

Today, you strapped on four and you were lucky, since you lost your first two about ten minutes ago. They were no doubt lodged into someone lying on the ground, pierced through their eye. That was your sweet spot, never failing you to effectively take down your opposition.

By this point, it felt like you had sliced your way through a hundred men and yet you still haven’t reached the door of the facility Ghost was being held in. Hope was on the horizon though because you could faintly make out the top of the door frame, which egged you on further. Your muscles worked tirelessly as your arms continued to swing at the men attacking you.

Occasionally, you would move your arms in a quick jabbing motion, repeatedly stabbing the opponent in the stomach and then you would land one last finally blow to their eye, your signature move some would say.

One of the downsides of this move was that sometimes, it took a lot of strength to pull your knife back out of the eye (hence your missing knives), which resulted in pulling their eyeball clear and out of its socket.

Not the best outcome of this tactic, but it is what it is.

Unfortunately, for your last victim, this very thing happened. You were thankful when his screams died down quickly.

You had a moment to catch your breath, hanging your head, quivering hands resting on your upper thighs. You looked up just in time to see someone charging at you, yelling, and with their own knives in their hands.

You noticed that they were the only one alive left outside.

One more. I can take care of him.

You swiftly moved to the side, but could hear the whisp of his blade cutting through the air. That was no good- he got too close.

Time to fix that.

Since you were so deft in your knife wielding ability, you also had a knack of being light on your feet and quick. Something that certainly benefited you.

While the man was no doubt taller and heavier than you, you were faster and anticipated his movements with ease. Sooner than later he too was on the ground, finished, with a sliver blade in his left eye, your red hand-grip the only thing you could see sticking out of his head.

You decided to leave it there, as a parting gift of course.

That’s where you got your nickname, Red Eye, seeing that your weapon of choice was wrapped in a blood-red grip that blended in with the blood that seeped out of your victims’ eye sockets. You thought the nickname was silly at first, but you just grew to accept it over the years. What can you say, you like the fancifulness of it every once in a while.

While you always had reputation, this name made your reputation grow into something almost bigger. While your peers and opponents knew you as the women with the red soaked blades, this name gave you a more, how should you put it?

Eerie reputation.

After stepping over your last remaining victim, you finally reach the double doors, leading into the building Ghost is being held captured in.

Before you entered though, you heard a voice through your comms. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Red Eye.”

Fuck me.

You hear Soap over the comms, “Wait for backup. We’re detecting three bodies via heat signatures”

You let out a groan, but made sure that your comms didn’t pick up on that.

“We don’t have time for that. I need to engage now.”

“You will do no such thing.” You hear Price’s voice cut through, stopping you from opening the doors.

“It’s a miracle you made it this far without any back up. Don’t test my patience.”

Ok, so you may have left without anyone knowing and got a two-hour head start before the rest of your team caught up to your location.

It’s just- they were taking, what it seemed like, forever to develop a plan to get your boyfriend out of captivity. You get it, logistics need to be air tight. But this was Ghost, Simon. Your Simon out there.

You knew he could handle what was given to him, but that didn’t ease any worry or hurt left in your heart, and it made you see red with anger.

That’s how your more or less ended up here, alone, slicing through about 30 men all by yourself. Not the smartest move you admit, but you had to get to Simon. You knew his time was running down, like a sand timer, each minute gone left him more perilous than before.

You were definitely going to get your ass kicked tomorrow at debrief.

You were just about to go in, thinking to hell with listening to orders, when you hear at least two sets of feet jogging across the gravel.

“Jesus, Red Eye. Leave any for the rest of us?”

You just roll your eyes at Soap, ignoring his comment. “C’mon guys, we need to hurry. Let’s take the last of the fuckers out and get Ghost back home.”

“Roger that.”

You go in first taking point, Soap and Kӧnig flanking you.

This time around, you have your handgun out, but your knife is safely held with your left hand, resting on the underside of the muzzle.

The hallway is dark, but it’s to your advantage. You think you see a light source coming from the hallway on the left that you’re coming up to, so you raise your left hand and point in that direction, signaling to Soap and Kӧnig.

This is where you come across the first person.

We must be close.

You let Kӧnig take him out. He comes up swiftly behind him and locks an arm around the man’s throat. First knocking him out, but then ultimately, finishing the job.

You three continue down the long corridor. They seem to go on forever. Sweat drips down your temple, and you hastily swipe it away, not wanting anything to obstruct your vision.

As you come closer to the end of the hallway, you start to hear something.

You raise your hand to signal Soap and Kӧnig to stop, and turn around so they can see you raise your pointer finger up to your lips.

You listen for the sound again, and you realize what it is this time.

Your blood runs cold, and goosebumps form on your arms, freezing you in place as you listen to the deafening sound that doesn’t seem to stop.

Ghost is screaming.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this loud, let alone sound so full of pain. You have to pull it together though, you’re almost to him.

You continue on, making a right this time, and Ghost’s screams become louder. It’s good and bad of course. Good because he’s near you and you’re close, bad because he hasn’t stopped screaming.

You wonder how long this has been going on for.

You feel a heavy weight float down your chest, that takes its resting place in your heart. You find it hard to breath, and it takes every fiber in your being not to go into full panic mode.

You get closer and closer to the room Ghost is in, but you don’t hear him anymore. There is no one outside guarding, so the remaining two people must be inside with him.

Your stomach churns over.

You hadn’t realized it, but you fell behind both Soap and Kӧnig, but without a beat, they took your spot at point, leading you to the door.

They bust in first and immediately go after the two men that were standing by Ghost, who is strapped to a chair. It’s your job to get Ghost free of his confines.

But when you look at him, you freeze all over again.

He’s slumped in the chair, hands and feet bound by thick ropes that are no doubt leaving crude burns in his skin.

His pants have rips and holes in them and from further examination, you realize it’s from cigarette burns and cuts from blades.

You can’t see any damage on his arms but you’re worried what his shirt is hiding on his torso. You realize he’s slumped because he’s knocked out cold, probably from a concussion. But you know he’s alive because you see the slight rise and fall of his chest. It’s ever so faint, but it’s there.

You look around the room and notice a medium size table with different kinds of weapons and tools splayed out along the length of the table. You notice some have dried blood on them, while other tools are still dripping red. Rags litter the table as well. They’re dirty and also have traces of lingering blood.

Once again, you feel the embers burning through you, and you feel like you’re about to explode into a fury of rage.

You turn towards the two men that Soap and Kӧnig took down.

The two bodies lie on the floor and before you realize what you’re doing, you crouching over the first man, and with your blade, you start stabbing both of his eyes, switching on and off between the left and right. While you do this, a blood curdling scream leaves your lips.

It’s both terrifying and heartbreaking; a fine line dances between the two.

You snarl at the now eyeless man before you crawl your way over to his counterpart and release the same anger and revenge onto him. Your screech never faltering.

You don’t realize what you’re doing until you feel strong arms come up behind you and lift you off the dead man.

You start fighting their hold and it’s then when you start crying, your scream turning into a sob. The exhaustion finally getting to you.

“We got him. He’s going to be ok; it’s going to be ok.”

That’s the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

When you wake, you notice you’re lying on something soft. When you come to, you realize you’re on a bed, under a thin layer of covers and your head rests on a firm pillow.

You squint because the lights are overly bright but when they adjust, you notice the infamous florescent glow, meaning, you’re in the medical ward of the base.

You sit up, and you notice no aches or pains outside of your regular soreness you felt after fighting for an extended period of time. Your head also hurts, but you don’t really care.

You want to know where Simon is.

You notice a nurse a few feet away and you wave her over.

“Excuse me, but why am I in here?”

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that she’s nervous. She fidgets with her hands before answering you.

“Well miss, you fainted on your last mission. They brought you here to be examined.”

She moves over to the end of your bed and takes out the clipboard that resided in the pocket.

“Here, let’s see.” She looks over your paper before looking back at you, still with a trace of uneasiness.

“Seems like everything is OK. Your vitals are normal, and you have no major injuries, just some light bruising on your arms and hands. You are welcome to leave when you want.”

You glance down and notice the light purple that spans across your knuckles.

Before she can scurry away, you ask, “Wait, where are they keeping Ghost?” You shake your head, “I mean, Simon Riley.”

A look of pity crosses her face before she answers, “He’s in Ward C miss; the intensive care unit.”

She leaves before you can ask her anything else.

What the fuck was her problem?

You jump out of your bed, but immediately regret that decision when your head starts to throb right above your left eye.

Now is not the time for a migraine.

You make sure you have all of your belongings before you rush over to Ward C. Right before you are about to enter through the doorway, Price comes through and stops you with a hand placed on your shoulder.

He looks down at you – you’re really getting tired of being the shortest on the team- and squeezes your shoulder gently.

“Before you go in there, guns-a-blazing, he’s doing ok, alright?”

You just stare up at him and nod. Although it was good to hear Simon was doing ok, whatever the hell that meant, you still had so much anger left in you. So much you were hoping that just the sight of Simon healing would help quell you.

You walk past Price, a determined spring in your step, ready to be reunited with Simon. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him.

Three weeks.

Three weeks he was gone, and you thought he was never coming back.

The intensive care unit is unusually empty so it’s not hard to find which bed Simon is occupying.

You quietly walk up to the side of the bed, and you are finally by his side.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me bug, I’m awake.”

Simon’s voice startles you and your head turns towards his. You notice his left arm is in a sling but a lazy smile graces his lips.

If you weren’t in a medical facility on base, out in the open to the prying eyes of the public, you would have immediately burst out crying just at the sound of his voice.

Instead, you let out a breathy, “I thought I lost you.”

Unlike Simon, your face has no hint of happiness. Your lips are slightly turned down, quivering and your eyes start to well up with tears, but you will them not to drop.

Your hands are balled up in fists but you bring yourself back down. You are here for him after all; it’s not the other way around.

You slowly unclench your fists and then gingerly sit down on the side of Simon’s bed, right at his hip.

That’s when you bring your hand up to trace down the side of his face, feeling the familiar stubble that never fails to tickle you when he kisses you.

Your hand comes back up to rub his cheek and you say again, “I thought I lost you, Simon.”

He brings his hand up to cup yours that still rests on his face. “I know, I know. But I’m here, and I’m ok.”

“Are you though?” You can’t fight it anymore, the tears stream down your face, their streaks burning your skin.

His hand that was resting on yours comes up to rub your head. “Promise.”

After that, you and Simon laid in his hospital bed for the remainder of the day. He fell in and out of sleep, but you were just thankful he was alive and breathing next to you.

It’s been about three weeks since Simon’s been back. He’s out of his sling and most of his bruises and wounds have healed. Expect for the deeper lacerations on his thighs. He also has some scarring from the cigarette butts. But over all, you would say he’s doing pretty alright, all things considered.

You’re both currently on base, since you needed to attend multiple meetings today, and you’re eating lunch in the cafeteria.

“So, I heard you went kind of, feral, when you came to rescue me.” Simon has an innocent look on his face, but you see him trying to hid his shit eating grin.

You narrow your eyes at him, “And who did you hear that from?”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No one in particular.”

You scoff. Fucking Soap.

You knew he must have told someone, if not Simon himself. He was quite the gossiper.

What a fucker.

“Well, did you want me to ask them to be friends?”

Simon lets out a low laugh. “That would have been funny.” You look up at him and see his eyes are lit with amusement.

You let out a sigh, but a ghost of a smile dances across your lips. You know he’s feeling better since he’s joking around.

Another three weeks has passed and you find yourself in the typical meeting room. The one you all use before a mission. That means this will be your last debrief before you jet off to where ever the location is in a few days.

The meeting goes well up until the part where Price says “And Ghost, you will wait here at the rendezvous point.”

You interrupt him, “Wait what?”

The room goes silent as you stare down Price.

“There’s no way Simon is going on this mission. Nope. Not happening.”

“Well, y/n, you don’t really have a say in this. Do you?”

The trace of condescendence has you short circuiting but you keep your cool. You glare at Price, “If Simon’s going on this mission, then count me out.” You don’t notice the slip of his name. Usually at work you call Simon Ghost or LT, but never Simon.

You storm out of the room and head back to your desk to gather your things to leave.

You hear someone lightly jogging behind you, and you have a hunch about who it is that followed you out.

You feel a hand softly grab your elbow and you hear Simon plead, “Wait.”

You sigh and turn around. Looking up at him you confess, “Look, I need to cool off for a bit. We can talk at home, ok?”

You see Simon contemplate whether to let you go or not, but he just gives you a curt nod. He gives your arm a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests, “Ok, see you at home.” --

You basically scowl your whole way home. Listen, you know you have some slight anger issues, but you’re working on it.

You get home after the long day and quickly make way to the shower, needing to feel the hot water run down your head and back. That will calm me, you think.

Once you step out of the shower, you already feel better. You’re clean, and you smell like your favorite soap. You change and do your normal routine after a shower then head to the kitchen to make yourself a warm cup of tea.

Evening tea is one of your favorite treats and it always seems to quell your nerves. Because that’s what you are right now, nervous.

You don’t want to fight with Simon, no, not at all. But you can’t help but feel frustrated at Price, and subsequently him, for deciding that he’s ready to go back in the field. Because from your perspective he’s not. Hell, it’s barley been a month and a half, and you think he needs more time to cope with what happened to him.

Sure, he’s seeing the base’s therapist, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his physical body healthy, yet you can’t help but the ball of worry that has formed in the pit of your stomach, fester. Something keeps nagging at you, and you don’t know what it is.

You just don’t understand how Simon can bounce back so quickly.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait too long for Simon to get home. And when he does, you find yourself perking up on the couch when you hear him come through the door.

He lets out a soft “Hey,” in which you respond just as softly back.

“I’m going to go shower and wash up, but then we can talk, yeah?”

You give him a nod, but also confirm, “Sure, that sounds good.”

His shower felt like eternity, but you know you only feel this way because you’re on edge. Again, you don’t want to fight with him. You just, you love him so much, you can’t stand to lose him again. No, it can’t happen again.

You hear soft footsteps on the tile as Simon makes his way through the kitchen to the living room where you’re still seated on the couch.

You look up at him before he sits down and grant him a quiet smile, and reach out your hand to his. His large hand grasps yours in his, and his thumb traces your knuckles. He then sits down next to you, and now his fingers are tracing over yours, relaxing you just a smidge.

You can feel his warmth radiating off of you instantly, and it takes ever thing in you to not glue yourself to his side.

You both slightly turn to each other, and funnily enough you each say “So,” at the same time.

You giggle and he lets out a low chuckle that makes your insides swarm. You miss him.

“You go first, bug.” The hand that has been tracing yours pulls you closer to him, and he embraces you in a warm hug as you both sit on the couch.

Before you start, you simply just bask in Simon’s embrace, not wanting to let go just yet. You begrudgingly pull away, but still keep your fingers connected in their little dance.

“I’m sorry for storming out today at our meeting. That was unprofessional, and uncalled for, but I just don’t see why you have to go on our next mission.”

“Aren’t you still hurting from what happened to you on the last one? I guess I just don’t understand why you want to go back in the field so soon.”

There’s a pause before you add, “How do you know you’re ready to go back?”

One thing you appreciate about Simon is that he never interrupts you, and he always lets you finish your complete thought before adding his.

When he can tell you’re done, he sighs and says, “Because, y/n, that’s what we’re trained for.”

“I wouldn’t have this job if I couldn’t put the pieces back together after every mission.”

You guess that makes sense, but you’re still concerned about him.

“Listen, I get that, I really do. I guess what I want to make sure of is that you’re actually doing ok and that you’re working through whatever happened to you.”

He’s told you the gist of what happened, and he confides in you whenever he feels like he needs the extra support, but you know that there are some things he’s still hiding. Which, you’re not going to push him to tell you, but you hope at some point he does.

He gives you a slight smile, “That’s why I love you. You’re always looking out for me, and I appreciate it so much, but I’m really doing fine, ok?”

He shifts so he’s leaning in closer to you, and now it’s his turn to cup your jaw with his hand. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod at his answer. “I love you too.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You grant him a smile in return and then he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss deepens and before you know it, you’re straddling his lap, one leg on either side of his thick torso. You’re a mess as you straddle him, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, if even possible.

He wraps his arms around you and subconsciously pulls you closer to him. His large hands span across your back as he holds you close to him. Your center brushes against his you let out a moan when you feel this contact. You run your hands down his neck and shoulders, feeling the taught muscles underneath his black t-shirt. As you rock your hips against his, you hear him let out a moan, which only eggs you on further.

“Fuck, y/n. Keep doing that again.” His hands travel down to hold you hips, almost as if he’s trying to help you move against him.

Your hands move in tandem and they come to rest at the base of his t-shirt, your fingers playing with the hem. You’re itching to take it off of him, and he seems to understand what you want, because he pauses kissing you to help you take off his shirt.

Now shirtless, you bring your hands up to his shoulders and then trail them slowly down his torso, nails ever so slightly scraping against his skin. You can feel each ridge and bump from his abs before your reach the hem of his sweatpants. Your fingers graze over his happy trail before you start toying with his sweats.

You run one finger along the hem of his grey sweats, then ever so slightly, your finger enters his pants, you run your finger under his sweatpants. You’re teasing him, and you can tell he’s getting antsy by the way he shifts as your finger runs along the band of his briefs.

As you continue to tease him, you trail or lips over his chest. Your lips wrap around one of his nipples, the unpierced one, and you softly bite him before you run your tongue over his nipple, suckling.

He moans out a gentle “Fuck,” and one of his hands comes up to grasp your hair.

You move over to his other nipple, the pierced one to be exact, and you once again softly bite him then suck. You make sure to spend your time here because you know this is one of Simon’s favorite thing during foreplay. Once he’s taken care of there, you continue to trail your lips down his abdomen, and now you’re finally at his center.

You get off his lap and sit on the floor in-between his spread legs. You place your hands right above his knees, and you look up at him with your swollen lips.

“You’re going to be good for me tonight, right?” You rub your thumbs in soft circles on his legs, waiting for his answer.

You see him gulp as he looks down at you, and then his lips quirk, in a smirk.

“What do you say?” Your hands stop their ministrations and you tilt your head, understanding what he wanted.

“Please.”

His smirk deepens, “Good girl.”

At his greenlight, you come up on your knees so that you can reach him better. Your trail the hem on his sweatpants one last time before you start pulling them down off his hips, making sure that his briefs come off too. He lifts his butt to help you, and now you’ve successfully taken his pants and underwear off.

You greedily take in the size of him. His dick is hard and slightly curved as it lays against his stomach. You wrap your hand around him, he’s so thick that your hand doesn’t close around it the whole way. You pump him slowly, as you look at him. His eyes are blown out and he leans his head back against the couch. You smile at him before you lower yourself. You link one strip up his dick, making him squirm underneath you. You then you bring up your hand to start pumping him. As your hand moves up and down, your lips come up to kiss the to crown of his dick.

You look up at him again, locking eyes and then wrap your lips around him. Once your lips make contact, he lets out a low moan. You continue to sink down on him. You move your head up and down, trying to adjust to his size. The part of his dick that you can’t fit into your mouth, you cover with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Your hair falls around you, and at this, Simon carefully takes your hair into one hand, putting it into a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuck, baby that feels so good.”

You continue to suck on him, hollowing out your cheeks. You know he’s close when you see his abs start to clench and his legs start to stiffen.

The moans he lets out has your getting wetter and wetter by the minute, and you squirm, trying to ease some of the pent-up tension you’re feeling.

Your unoccupied hand comes down to play with his balls, gently squeezing them and that is what does him in. He lets out a louder groan and you feel his warm come shoot down your throat.

You keep your mouth on him, cleaning him up before you slowly take yourself off him. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand and you sit back on your heels, smiling at him.

He runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a low chuckle.

“Damn, you really did a number on me there.” You laugh yourself and you come up to the couch, sitting beside him so you can turn his head to give him a lingering kiss.

You give him a few pecks, “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” Your eyes are bright as you look at him, and his hold the same amount of affection and adoration.

His low voice cuts through you, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, alright?”

You give him a brief nod, “Please.”

He pulls you back into him, and then starts to push you back so you’re lying on the couch under him. He’s kissing you frantically now, his tongue entering your mouth.

“Take your pants off for me, would you?” His hands make their way to take your shirt off, and while he does that, you slip out of your shorts, underwear gone with them.

“Thank you, baby.”

He keeps kissing you as his hand comes down to your center. He first cups you, and then brings his pointer finger to rub against your clit. As his pointer is stimulating your clit, his middle and ring finger run along your slit, gathering up all the wetness that formed over the course of the last half hour.

You see him bring his coated fingers up to you. “Taste for me,” he breathes. And without any hesitation, you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, making sure to look at Simon while you lick his fingers. He watches you with fire in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing him call you that.

He brings his hand back down to your pussy and then enters two fingers in you, stretching you out deliciously. You whine as his fingers enter you; they feel so good inside you.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend has quite large hands, which equated to long, thick fingers, and he always knew what to do with them.

He starts picking up the pace, and the squelching sound his fingers make is deafening, and the only thing you can focus on as they move in and out of you.

You didn’t even have to ask before he’s adding in a third. You feel yourself clench around him, and you’re already losing your mind and he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet.

He’s hitting you right in your sweet spot, and your hands come up to hold him by the shoulders. He moves down ever just a hair, and you’re not sure why until he lowers his head. He spits, and then connects his lips with your clit, moving his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The addition to his lips on your clit has you seeing stars and you start to feel that familiar build up. You tumble over the edge, a bright warmness spreading through you.

Simon removes his lips and fingers from you and you’re both panting heavily. He’s bracing himself with one arm as he looks down at you.

Your hair is messily strewn across the couch behind you, and your eyes are bright. Your chest moves up and down as you try and catch your breath. You smile up at him, this time your teeth showing.

He gives you a peck on your lips. “How was that?”

You sigh, “Amazing.”

Another kiss is pressed on your lips and you can faintly taste yourself on him.

“I want to properly fuck you, and that can’t be done on the couch. Bedroom, yeah?”

You nod up at Simon acquiescing to his suggestion.

“Alright, up you go then.”

He swiftly pulls you up and off the couch into his arms. You squeal at the sudden movement but it turns into giggles as Simon carries you bridal style to the bedroom.

“Wow, my night in shining armor.” You lazily loop your hands around his neck as he leads you both to the room. He just laughs at your statement.

Once there, he gently deposits you on the bed, and wastes no time picking up where you left off.

He crawls on top of you and starts to kiss you up your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth. His kiss leaves you burning, and your hands eagerly reach for him, pulling him down further into you.

You wrap your legs around his torso, and feel his dick brush up against your center, hard once again.

He pulls away to look at you, eyes connecting. “Do you need any more prep?” He brings a hand up to brush away some of the flyway hairs that covered your face. His hand lingers, cupping your head, and his thumb brushes your cheek in a soothing back and forth motion.

Smiling you answer, “No, I’m good.”

“Ok.”

Bracing himself above you, his hand trails down to grasp his dick. He gives it a few pumps before running it along your slits, and lightly taps it on your overly sensitive clit.

He then slowly guides it into you, the stretch much bigger than what his fingers could offer. You both let out a sigh as he fully sinks into you, eyes connecting at this very moment. Once he’s fully inside, he gives you some time to adjust, his hand moving to hold your hips, thumb moving in circles.

“You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good, you can start moving.”

At your consent for him to move, he does just that. He pulls his hips back before he pushes them back into you. He starts off with a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. You’re surprised he’s not pounding into you relentlessly like he usually does. This time his thrusts are much more calculated, calm, like he’s got all the time in the world. The slower drag of him against your walls makes you roll your eyes back, reveling in the feeling of him.

It’s only him, that’s all you can think about, all you can feel. You let go of the heaviness you’ve been feeling to focus on being with him now. It’s not hard, he makes you feel like you’re floating anyways.

Your fingers run down his face, down his shoulders, taking in as much as you can of him. Then you run your hand down his tattooed arm, mapping the intricate details of his tattoos and running over the protruding veins due to him propping himself up. Simon watches you as you run your hand across him.

He gives you a particular harsher thrust, eyes trained on you when you moan and clutch his arm a harder. He picks up the pace just a little, loving the way you look beneath him, taking his cock so well.

“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you breathe. He hits that same spot again, but this time you move up the bed a little from the force of his hips. Your breasts jiggle as you shift up the bed and Simon’s eyes are travel to your chest. He brings his hand up to up one of them, rolling his thumb over your nipple. Simon keeps this faster rhythm with his hips, slamming into your now quivering pussy, showing you no mercy as he pounds into you with force.

His thrusts are powerful that leave the breath knocked out of you.

He removes his hand from your breast to wrap it around your leg. He positions your leg so it’s resting on his shoulder, now giving him a new angle into you. This position allows you to feel him move even deeper inside you, now feeling the tip of his dick hit your cervix, which makes you whine. His thrusts continue their hard motions, but his pace starts to slow down.

Simon’s hips start to falter a little bit in their smooth rhythm, a telltale sign he’s close. At his praising, you unconsciously clench around him, making him breathe out a silent curse as his hand tightens on your leg that is propped up on his shoulder.

“Si, I’m close,” you whine. You feel so full, so consumed by all things Simon, the only thing you can focus on is him and the building orgasm that threatens to spill over.

“Me too.” Simon removes his hand that’s been propping your leg up and moves it down to your clit, and starts to rub slow circles on the bud, making you squirm. You bring your leg down from his shoulder to wrap it around his torso once again pulling him closer to you. You drag your hands down and up his back as his thumb continues to abuse your clit. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With a few more thrusts from Simon and the quick movements of his finger on your clit, you feel the coil in you snap, and it snaps hard. Your orgasm washes over you, a blinding white light that makes you feel like you’re going to pass out, and you call out his name one last time.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you see stars, as your pussy clamps down hard on Simon’s dick. He’s a moaning mess above you as he feels your orgasm that’s traveling through your body, your walls contracting around him.

He curses out a soft “fuck baby” and then he’s following just a hair behind you, traveling over his precipice as well, emptying inside of you. You feel his come paint your walls as your pussy continues to clench around him, as you ride out your second orgasm of the night.

He collapses on top of you but is careful not to crush you completely. You’re breathing heavy as you both come down from your highs, both sweaty messes.

He lifts his head to look at you. There’s a soft smile on his face and you smile back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, bug.”

Your smile falters, “I never want you to leave me like that ever again. Got it?” Your voice is firm, but there’s an underlying trace of tenderness. Your hand comes up to push his hair back, waiting for his answer.

“Never.”

“Good.” You pull him back down to you for a kiss.

He slowly peels himself off of you and whispers out, “Wait here.”

You lay on your back, legs bent as you wait for Simon’s return. When you hear him entering the bedroom, you slightly sit up and you notice a washcloth in one of his hands.

He kneels back on the bed and gingerly pries your legs open so he can clean you up. He delicately starts wiping your center, his first few strokes making you writhe due to oversensitivity. His hand rests tenderly on your knee, thumb stroking back and forth as he wipes you clean. He must have run the washcloth under hot water because it’s wet and feels warm against your skin.

When he’s done, he pecks the inside of your knee and gets up off the bed to go throw the washcloth in the hamper. When he returns to you, he’s in his boxers, and he has a t-shirt in his hand.

“For you, my lady.” You laugh at him and take his shirt, pulling the soft material over your body.

You both clamber under the covers, and are now wrapped up in Simon’s arms.

There’s no place you’d rather be right now, and you’re so thankful the universe allowed you another chance to be with him like this.

If he didn’t make his way back to you, you don’t even know what you would have done. Probably would have gone mental, but who could really blame you?

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nexility-sims · 2 months

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𝐍��. 𝟑 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | NAKAWE, 2023

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Karolina Teague was hardly famous. Her name carried a certain heft among culture critics whose heyday had passed, but she liked the anonymity that came with being washed up. All of her favorite people were has-beens, after all, and she wasn’t ashamed to spend her time reminiscing about days past with them or anyone else who would listen. Today, she welcomed a whole crew of listeners into her Nakawe home—a film crew to be exact, led by a director-producer duo who had known her name well before a previous interviewee mentioned it to them. She wouldn’t be the star of their documentary, but they believed from its inception that the story wouldn’t be complete without her thoughts.

❧ honestly very proud of the scrapbooking !!!! this is basically just shameless exposition, but i am convinced i picked a creative vehicle for it :^) i watched that 90s docuseries on hulu a year ago and this specific story post was born fjdhjf anyway, canonically, no one would be writing or printing in script like that but i am simply NOT that committed to my worldbuilding sdkjfsf consider this whole thing an english language reimagining (^:

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Karolina took them on a tour of her colorful seaside house, one concluding in a room already set up for their perusal. It was the archive, she explained. This was what they came for; her recollections were valuable, but she had so much more than her own memories. Photographs waited on the tables, and an old television screen teased some scene from exclusive VHS tapes. Karolina plopped down onto a sofa and gestured widely, saying, “Have a look. I’m ready when you are.”

The director, a woman named Ildaria, picked up a photograph.

“Can you tell us about her?”

Karolina beckoned for the photo, and Ildaria walked over to hand it to her. For a moment, she peered at it, keeping everyone in suspense. Finally, she replied, “Sure. What’s she going to do, sue me?”

“Maybe,” a cameraman elsewhere in the room snorted.

“I’ll take the risk,” Karolina laughed. “Look, I don’t know Princess Leonor, but I met her plenty of times. She was at The Den at least half the nights in 1991, for sure. Probably into 1992, but I didn’t really keep track of her comings and goings. Definitely not after 1993.”

The producer, Eilo, held up another photograph. “What’s the story here?” he asked.

Karolina reached for it. Unlike the other photo, this one was a proper candid. There were several people in the frame, but Leonor was at the center, kneeling by a table with her hand draped across Renzo’s thigh as he held her head in his palm and said something beyond the capture of still photography.

“It wasn’t anything formal,” Karolina explained. “Renzo didn’t date anyone in those days, and I don’t think she did either. They liked each other. It was mutual fascination with zero understanding, is how I saw it. They hung out—liked each other’s company. Hot and fast, burned out quick, that’s what it looked like.” She shrugged. “That was Renzo.”

“And Leonor?” Ildaria asked, having sat down nearby.

“Like I said,” Karolina began. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “I didn't know her. Seemed like a cool girl. I’m older, mind you. I think she wanted to get a little wild and try new things—this is off the record—and The Den was for her what it was for everyone. You could kick your shoes off. Scream along to your buddy’s new song, have a movie star tell you his woes while he pours your drink, get high in the dressing room and probably be fine—”

“Did she do that?” Ildaria’s eyes were wide.

Karolina cleared her throat. “No, of course not. Not everyone did! Enough, sure. We all know the quote-unquote horror stories.”

The crew listened, rapt, having stopped flipping through albums and poking around the bookcases, eager to hear something explosive. They had set out to make a documentary about a particular time and place. The Den at the turn of the century was their subject. That glorious decade solidified its place in celebrity culture, to say nothing of its place in music history. The princess was just a footnote in that story. Nonetheless, it was a tantalizing footnote. Most people below a certain age were shocked to hear that she hadn’t been a humorless, buttoned-up bureaucrat her entire life. The idea that someone whose day job involved keeping the country afloat may have once been young and reckless intrigued. That she was adjacent to the salacious stories of sex, drugs, and rock and roll they knew better nearly crossed the line into unbelievable. Yet, people in Uspana also knew their royals had been wrapped up in the glamor of celebrity for decades. Even now, they continued to rub elbows with rock stars, including the one elder princess who was herself a music star.

“She’s a different person now, clearly,” Karolina continued. She spoke tentatively still but nonetheless addressed what everyone wanted to know. “But, for a time, she was at The Den with everyone else, drinking too much and carrying around a pharmacy in whatever cute purse you had that night. You may remember there was a big Reyes death around then. It’s like—when my mother died in 2009, I lost my shit, too.”

Karolina shrugged again. “She was having fun. I was doing worse, alright, so I only feel judgmental about it insofar as she’d probably be embarrassed if you asked her about any of it today. Royals are supposed to do their sniffing in private, right, not in a bathroom Renzo forgot to hire someone to clean. She was snobby, but my sense was that she liked pretending she wasn’t—roleplay, you know, transgressing or whatever.”

Someone coughed. The rifling through materials resumed. Ildaria and Eilo shared a look.

“You haven’t talked to her since ‘92?” Ildaria asked. Eilo, meanwhile, had pulled out his cell phone and was typing with fast fingers.

Karolina shook her head. “So, she knew I’d asked Renzo to let me collect photos and bring along my Zenith. I got a weird email in 2000 inquiring about them from someone who worked for her.” She grinned, then added as an aside, “Only one recording, by the way. The Den had a strict no video policy.”

“We’d like to see them sometime,” Ildaria responded.

Karolina nodded, then shook her head and clarified, “Which—my tapes or the email?”

Eilo answered without looking up, “Both.”

He finished what he was doing after a moment of quiet, then held his phone up for Ildaria and Karolina to see. “Seems like she’s still in touch with people,” he said.

They leaned forward to view the screen while he swiped at it, then Karolina laughed. “Okay, maybe she just didn’t like me!”

While they watched, Eilo moved through a hastily thrown together slideshow of the princess with various people Karolina knew well. Some looked like event photos. Others were captured with long lenses—paparazzi shots that made money but didn’t always generate enough interest if the other person was a comparative nobody. Not everyone had evolved in the last thirty years. Plenty of people who visited the bar during the decade of Renzo’s ownership continued to have flourishing careers. They were, at the time, young and beautiful and painfully unprepared for the lifetime of celebrity ahead of them. That’s what they brought to this place more than anything: their pain, which, being creative types, they eagerly spun into something beautiful and private.

That’s what The Den gave them. These impossibly talented, dedicated stars created fleeting things for each other and no one else. Bands and dance troupes formed. An endless stream of songs and poetry and performance art kept the bar’s little stage occupied nightly for years. Offstage, people with no reason to meet in the real world bonded in this space of both contrived and undeniable intimacy. For some, the reprieve helped them endure the difficulty of becoming that invariably attended a rise in fame. It was detrimental to others. These were the ones who didn’t evolve—people who gave up their relevance to live forever in this meaningless, generative privacy or people who couldn’t make the choice and lost everything in the process.

Karolina hadn’t evolved, but she hadn’t died or wanted to die either. From her perspective, what people like the princess and even Renzo himself had done wasn’t evolution. It was more like a revelation. People don’t change, she would tell Eilo and Ildaria later, over dinner, when the conversation had moved far away from the royal footnote. She believed people just uncover deeper truths about themselves, knowingly or unknowingly, and those became harder to conceal once they were exposed.

Have you felt that way before? she asked them. Exposed, like when you break your leg so hard the bone snaps right through your skin? They had. The conversation detoured to childhood misadventures, but Karolina had a point to make. She pulled them back. Some people get comfortable with that feeling and learn how to live in it. Other people, you know, they deny and lie and call it growth. That’s my opinion. I’ve seen it—artists are the worst for it, I swear. Artists who don’t want to be artists anymore? Worse than that.

Can I say you sound bitter? Ildaria laughed.

Now, Karolina threw her hands up. She exclaimed, joyful, That’s my truth, baby! I took too many bites of the world, and I’ve been disgusted by it ever since. Some people come out of their mamas malcontent.

Later that night, Eilo was exhausted, but Ildaria’s hand hovered over the light switch with uncertainty. She heaved a big, put-upon sigh, then asked, “Is it bad that I want to give Mencia Cipac a call?”

“Give her a call?” Eilo snorted. “Sure, Mencia Cipac, whose number you totally have, definitely won’t ignore your calls because she, for sure, knows who you are and has endless free time to spare.” He sat up straighter, then added, “No more overloading on projects. You promised. Besides, you don’t wanna poke that bear.”

“Not a bear,” Ildaria retorted. “A jaguar. Roar!”

TRANSCRIPT:

KAROLINA | Have a look. I'm ready when you are.

RENZO (O.S.) | Get that thing out of here, Karolina!

ILDARIA | Can you tell us about her?

KAROLINA | Sure. What's she going to do, sue me? CAMERAMAN | Maybe.

KAROLINA | I'll take the risk.

KAROLINA | Look, I don’t know Princess Leonor, but I met her plenty of times. She was at The Den at least half the nights in 1991, for sure. Probably into 1992, but I didn’t really keep track of her comings and goings. Definitely not after 1993

EILO | What's the story here?

KAROLINA | It wasn't anything formal.

KAROLINA | Renzo didn’t date anyone in those days, and I don’t think she did either. They liked each other. It was mutual fascination with zero understanding, is how I saw it. They hung out—liked each other’s company. Hot and fast, burned out quick, that’s what it looked like. That was Renzo.

ILDARIA | And Leonor?

KAROLINA | Like I said, I didn't know her. Seemed like a cool girl. I’m older, mind you. I think she wanted to get a little wild and try new things—this is off the record—and The Den was for her what it was for everyone. You could kick your shoes off. Scream along to your buddy’s new song, have a movie star tell you his woes while he pours your drink, get high in the dressing room and probably be fine—

ILDARIA | Did she do that?

KAROLINA | No, of course not. Not everyone did! Enough, sure. We all know the quote-unquote horror stories.

KAROLINA | She's a different person now, clearly. But, for a time, she was at The Den with everyone else, drinking too much and carrying around a pharmacy in whatever cute purse you had that night. You may remember there was a big Reyes death around then. It’s like—when my mother died in 2009, I lost my shit, too.

KAROLINA | She was having fun. I was doing worse, alright, so I only feel judgmental about it insofar as she’d probably be embarrassed if you asked her about any of it today. Royals are supposed to do their sniffing in private, right, not in a bathroom Renzo forgot to hire someone to clean. She was always a snob, but I my sense was that she liked pretending she wasn’t—roleplay, you know, transgressing or whatever.

ILDARIA | You haven't talked to her since '92?

KAROLINA | So, she knew I’d asked Renzo to let me collect photos and bring along my Zenith. I got a weird email in 2000 inquiring about them from someone who worked for her. Only one recording, by the way. The Den had a strict no video policy.

ILDARIA | We'd like to see them sometime.

KAROLINA | Which—my tapes or the email?

EILO | Both.

EILO | Seems like she's still in touch with people. KAROLINA | Okay, maybe she just didn’t like me!

ILDARIA | Is it bad that I want to give Mencia Cipac a call?

EILO | Give her a call?

EILO | Sure, Mencia Cipac, whose number you totally have, definitely won’t ignore your calls because she, for sure, knows who you are and has endless free time to spare.

EILO | No more overloading on projects. You promised. Besides, you don’t wanna poke that bear.

ILDARIA | Not a bear. A jaguar. Roar!

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

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starlightsearches · 2 years

Note

Your Eddie NSFW Alphabet and what you said about oral makes me want to ride his face on the picnic table with his ring-covered fingers digging bruises into our thighs, keeping us in place and rocking against his face, maybe even despite our protests because he loves eating pussy so much that he doesn't care if he drowns or never breathes again as long as he gets to go between our legs.

Body Electric

I'm SCREAMING with out the S, my friend! Here's something I wrote for the idea 💖 comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, infidelity (reader cheats on her boyfriend 🫢), fingering (f), oral (f), a wee bit of overstimulation, drug mention, I think that's it!

You've never met a person as flirtatious as Eddie.

He flirts with everybody, but it's different with you. He flirts with you all the time—even when your boyfriend's around.

Especially when your boyfriend is around.

Which is probably why he suggested that you meet up with Eddie alone today, sending you off with a patronizing pat on your ass. "Maybe he'll give you a discount."

Eddie's giving you more than a discount.

It started with a game. Is that what he called it? A game? Or maybe it was a bet.

All you know is he was sitting next to you at the picnic table, making jokes, asking where your shitty boyfriend was with his shitty taste in music and his shitty stick and poke tattoos.

You hadn't meant to laugh. Really. But you couldn't help it when he smiled at you so wide, light dancing in his big brown eyes, his whole demeanor screaming I could be better than him, if you let me.

You'd watched his fingers stroking up the bare skin of his arms, admired the corded veins in his hands and the heavy rings he wears. He was still smiling when you looked back at his face, but there was something heavier in the air between you, something that makes the breath in your lungs catch on the way out.

"I bet he's shitty at a lot of things."

That’s what he'd said to you in a voice that just dripped with sex, your cheeks burning under his smug grin—practically chewing your lip off because he was right and for some reason you were the one embarrassed.

His hands slipped out of sight beneath the table, the tips of his fingers tracing along the inside of your thigh, his touch sending your head spinning better than weed ever had.

And then he'd shifted closer, the ends of his hair tickling at your jaw, hot breath on your neck and you had to keep your eyes closed because if you looked at him, there'd be nothing stopping you from burying your hands in his hair and tasting the cigarette smoke off his lips.

"Me? I'd never be a shitty boyfriend," he whispers, "especially if I had a girl like you."

That's how you ended up with Eddie the freak Munson knuckle deep in your cunt.

And he's definitely not shitty. Got you in tears with hardly any effort, stroking his long fingers against your sensitive front wall, just barely tracing circles over your clit with his thumb. The picture of patience.

He watches you the entire time, gnawing on his pink bottom lip, eyes so wide it's like he's forgotten how to blink, like he doesn't want to miss a second of this. Your own hands are clenched around the collar of his denim jacket, his wallet chain jangling with every shift of your hips. You're waiting to combust, to just burst into flames in his lap.

And then Eddie stops moving, his fingers slipping from your wet folds, leaving you empty.

God, the whine that leaves you is loud enough they should hear it all the way in East Hawkins, but you've got no chance pulling his attention away from his own fingers. He holds his hand up between you, silver rings glinting in the sunlight.

And that's not the only part of him that's glinting.

"Holy shit."

His fingers are shiny where they've been inside you, slick stretching in strands between the digits when he spreads them apart.

You'd thought you'd gotten rid of all your shyness, tossed somewhere among the leaves along with your underwear, but that's not the case. You're on fire all the way down to your neck, burning with shame you're not even sure if you should feel. Maybe you should apologize, just in case it's not normal.

But Eddie's not looking for an apology. He just slips his digits into his own mouth, kissing at his rings before pulling them back out with a wet pop. His spit smears against your cheek when he cups your face in his hand.

"You have got to let me taste you."

Jesus. You should really be more careful about what you're willing to smoke. All that shit is starting to make you hallucinate.

"What?"

Eddie's already on the table, rolling onto his back, flecking off chips of the faded red paint with every shift of his hips.

"Come on," he says, gesturing you over with a nod of his head.

He's actually serious. You press your thighs tighter together, and they stick a little with the spend he's already coaxed out of you. Your ass still stays on the bench.

"What if- what if I hurt you?"

Eddie just shrugs. "What a way to go, am I right?"

You're sure you don't have to tell him that your boyfriend's never gone down on you before, and you're definitely sure that he can tell you've never sat on anybody's face. The pile of nerves in your stomach shifts restlessly, and you know he can see that, too.

"I'm not above begging, baby," he shifts onto his side, leaning close enough that you can hear him when he whispers, "there's a very exclusive discount for girls who ride my face."

For a second, your nerves gone—replaced with an acrid jealousy. "Exclusive?"

He takes your hands in his, fingers intertwining shyly. There's some red in his cheeks when you look at him. "This is the first time I've offered it."

Okay. Okay. There's no way you could say no, even if you wanted to. He could get you to do whatever he wanted with one look from those big, brown eyes. Lucky for you, this is something you really, really wanted.

You press your lips to his before you can lose your nerve, breathing in the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne and the barest earthy scent that follows him everywhere.

He's good at this, too—damn him—tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue as he helps you onto the table, pulling you into place until you're straddling his hips, body electric at the feel of him.

Eddie urges you up onto your knees, shifting a little beneath you until everything disappears under your skirt except for his smiling eyes.

"Ready, baby?" He asks. His breath feels cool against the burning skin of your thighs.

You breathe a yes, and he's on you, open-mouthed kisses everywhere but where you want him. Your legs are shaking, knees threatening to buckle when you feel the nip of his teeth, his wide, warm hands cupping your ass underneath your skirt, pulling you closer.

"Fuck."

You fall forward, catching yourself with one outstretched palm, totally ignorant to the splinters burying themselves in your hands as he guides your hips against his mouth, tongue spread wide and flat, dragging across your cunt.

Oh god. His lips wrap around your clit next, sucking a teasing little pattern, just barely nipping at the sensitive nerves. You're already overwhelmed by the sensation, trying to lift away from him, trying to find some relief, but there's nowhere to go. His fingers tighten around your hips, cool rings biting against your flushed skin. He's in no position to speak, but you can imagine what he's trying to say well enough. You'll get used to it.

You don't think you could ever get used to this.

He eases off your clit, like he's hoping to make this last, but that’s not gonna happen. Not when he flattens his tongue again, gently guiding the shift of your hips, letting you grind down on him.

"God, Eddie." You don't even know if he can hear you between the pillows of your thighs, but you've got to say something, easing a little more weight down onto his face, adjusting the pressure until it sparks through you again. You have to let him know how good this feels, bracing one hand against the ripped knee of his jeans, arching back for the right angle.

Eddie Munson is smiling against your pussy. He's never shut up for this long before, so you have to imagine what he might say, read the language of his hands and the shift of his hips. Hear his voice in your mind saying the dirtiest shit you can imagine. Use me, baby. Get your fill. Cum on my fucking face.

You're going to. There's no way for you to avoid it, not with one of his hands slipping around to the cleft of your pussy, his thumb sliding between your folds and massaging your clit as he french kisses at your core.

"Eddie, I'm- fuck."

No chance to warn him. You're disappearing, lost in the heat of it—your own personal solar eclipse. It has your vision dimming at the edges and your body shaking as it's overcome, cunt pulsing and head emptied of anything but the places where you connect.

And still he doesn't stop, laving his tongue over your ruined pussy, circling your thrumming clit until you're sure you are going to explode.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie."

You really do fall this time, slumping forward until there's cold air kissing your wrecked center instead of his hot, heavy mouth.

He's laughing, when you look down at him. Slick, shining mouth stretched wide over his perfect teeth, dimples in his cheeks collecting your arousal. He wipes his mouth off on the back of his arm, still grinning when he sits beside you, nudging your shoulder with his own.

"You good?" he asks, like he hadn't almost killed you. Could you die from an orgasm that good? You can't help but feel like you cheated death, like your spirit almost left your body.

And then your heart rate slows, and he's nuzzling his face against your throat, pressing little kisses along the ridge of your jaw.

"You there, princess?"

He whispers the words right up against your ear, nose pressed flat against your cheek, and you've got enough of your breath back to laugh.

"Yeah, I'm here."

You can taste yourself on his lips when he kisses you, slow and way too romantic for what just happened, hand resting on your own.

"Come on," he says, jumping off the table, "sun's gonna set soon."

He picks up your pink cotton briefs from off the ground, brushing the leaves from them. There's a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks back at you.

"Can I keep these?"

You nod, still a little dizzy. You'd give him a kidney after the way he just made you feel.

You're as shaky as a baby deer when you stand, but he's right at your side, holding you up with a surprisingly strong arm around your waist.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod, biting at your lip. "Can I, uh, would you give me a ride home?"

It's not that far a walk, normally . . . when you can feel your legs.

He just laughs again, pressing another sloppy kiss to your cheek.

"Sure thing, princess. Maybe we can stop at a payphone on the way so you can call up your piece of shit boyfriend and tell him he's not your boyfriend anymore."

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #my writing #requests #minors dni

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loveshotzz · 2 years

Text

Saturday Night’s Main Event. - One Shot

Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

Friends to lovers

Summary: Saturday nights were always reserved for you and Eddie. Sharing his love for WWF he won’t let you watch Saturday Nights Main Event with anyone else. After half a bottle of whisky and a wild match between Hulk Hogan and Randy Savage Eddie’s convinced he can do what they do. When he tries to prove it to you things get out of hand and feelings are revealed.

Author’s Note: This is purely self indulgent with my own love for the campy-ness of WWE, Still pretty new at writing fan fiction so comments, likes, and reblogs are always welcome! My requests are open and if i feel like i can do it I totally will. I’ll be writing part 7 of my series after this. Master list (light editing don’t mind my typos 🙈)

Warnings: This is long and this is diiirrrrtyyy. smutty smut smut with feels and fluff. Minors DO NOT ENTER!

Tag List: @emotionaldreamer @tayhar811 @eddiethesexy

Saturday nights were always reserved for you and Eddie.

Once he found out that you also had a deep love for WWF he wouldn’t let you watch The Main Event with anyone else. That’s how Saturday nights had become your favorite night of the week. Hellfire on Thursday’s always a close second, those were the nights you got your best friend to yourself. Those were the nights that made you realize how hopelessly in love you were with with the metal head. You’d never admit it out loud, hell you hardly could admit it to yourself. Eddie brought a comfort to you, a comfort you never wanted to lose. Love was messy and cruel and you knew, you just knew the hardships in life would break you two. That’s what happened to your parents so why wouldn’t it happen to you? Eddie’s at home life was just another testimony to add to your list of evidence. You were more then content with this little bubble you had built around you two, confident in your ability to hide your real feelings just sitting under the surface.

You blame Hulk Hogan and Jim Beam for tonight.

You two were always so high energy when you were together, especially on these nights. It was so easy for you to lose yourself in the matches with him, feeding off each other. There was never any embarrassment when you’d both be screaming at the TV or jumping from you seat when a finishing move blew your mind.

Eddie and you are Squeezed together on his love seat practically vibrating with excitement as The Warriors intro music starts playing. You try to ignore the heat of his thigh pressed tightly against yours. Cursing yourself for picking shorts today, something about his denim touching your bare skin was sending you into a silent frenzy.

“Alright kids, I’m heading out.” Wayne’s gruff voice breaks both your attentions from the TV. He can’t help but smirk at the excitement thats written all over your faces, happy his nephew had someone to spend what he knows are lonely nights with. Wayne could see clear as day the way you stared at his nephew but he was letting Eddie figure that out on his own.

“I promise I won’t let y/n burn the house down.” Eddie grins slinging an arm over you in what you thought was just a casual gesture, but as you feel his muscles start to constrict around your neck you don’t realize your in an arm chokehold till your eyes are face to face with the crotch of his black jeans.

“Eddie! Let me go asshole!” You immediately start fighting against his grasp needing to get out of this position immediately. Was the universe working against you tonight?

When you finally break free you give Eddie a shove before turning around to see his Uncle was already half way out the door chuckling to himself at the sight in front of him.

“It’s not her I’m worried about. it you she’s probably the only reason this place is still standing.” He teases lightly. “Be good.”

“Yeah, yeah get to work old man.” Eddie’s tone is exasperated but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. You loved catching moments like this. The soft side of Eddie you would get on these nights is what made you realize the depth of your feelings for him, especially once he started to get soft on you.

When Wayne shuts the front door Eddie’s up almost immediately when he sees a commercial break, lightly jogging to his room. It’s not unlike him to surprise you with some kind of booze he had stashed under his bed, always whatever he could manage to swipe from the corner store. It was never the fact he was drinking he was trying to hide from his uncle it was the having to explain where he got it.

When he comes back there’s a shit eating grin spread across his face as he shakes the small handle of brown liquid, as he gets closer you realize its a bottle of Jim Beam.

“Jesus Christ Eddie, Jim Beam? I was expecting beer.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie takes his place next to you on the couch and you swear his legs are spread even wider as he leans back into his seat.

“It’s a special occasion sweetheart, it’s The Main Event before Wrestle Mania. I was scoping this out for days just for this.” Eddie’s looking at you like he can’t believe you’d expect anything else.

All you can think about is the fact that he just called you sweetheart. The pet names were new, you’d noticed he started casually sprinkling them in a few weeks ago. Princess, sweetheart, and now pretty girl. He dropped that one during the last campaign and if it wasn’t for the looks on the rest of the boys faces when the endearment left his lips you’d do your best to think nothing of it. But it was the only thing you thought about for the last two days.

“My mistake Munson, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” You tease snatching the bottle from his hand before twisting off the cap taking a swig, its warm going down your throat and when you meet Eddie’s eyes you don’t know if its the shot that’s making your insides turn to mush or the look he’s giving you.

“Just throwin’ em back huh?” Eddie grins grabbing the bottle from your hands, and you feel his calloused finger tips brush against yours. The light touch making your body react and you don’t understand what’s happening to your self control tonight.

“It’s the Main Event before Wrestlemania.” You counter back arching an eyebrow using his own logic against him.

“Touché, you got me there.” He winks before mimicking your previous actions, you can’t help but laugh at the sour face he makes after the bottle leaves his lips.

“God that is AWFUL!” He keeps smacking his mouth in hopes the bad taste will somehow leave his taste buds.

“It’ll get better as we keep going.” You giggle reaching out for his arm in reassurance. He tenses under your sudden touch, his big brown eyes look at your hand before making their way to your green ones. You can’t place what you see dancing behind his pupils when he licks his lips and they tug into a small smirk.

“Promise?” You swear he’s looking up at you from underneath his lashes. Was Eddie flirting with you?

The sound of Randy Savage’s intro music saves you from having to figure that out, your eyes darting back to the TV screen.

“Quit being a baby.” You finally settle on snatching the bottle from his ringed fingers again tipping it back, welcoming the harsh burn.

The excited energy from before finally returns to Eddie’s living room when Hulk Hogan makes his way into the ring, the show demanding the attention from both of you. You spend most of the match completely enthralled, passing the small handle back and fourth between each other. You don’t notice with the match having you both on the edge of your seat, also had you drink almost half the bottle. You definitely don’t notice how Eddie grips your knee every time there’s a close count out.

When Hulk Hogan finally gets Randy Savage to tap out Eddie’s grip on your knee is released as he stands up to whoop loudly, raising his fist in the air. His actions make his Iron Maiden shirt ride up slightly giving you a small glimpse of the happy trail on his stomach. The universe was definitely testing you tonight.

“What a fuckin’ match!” Eddie’s ecstatic when he turns around to look at you. His doe eyes are glossy and slightly blood shot, a result of the cheap liquor.

“Yeah, that was wild! The way that he picked him up and slammed him down like it was nothing?!” You can’t help but match his happiness when you finally gather the words to speak, Eddie and the whiskey making your brain fuzzy.

“You think I could do that? Like pick someone up like that?” He’s flexing his arm squeezing the muscle on his shoulder to try and gauge his physical abilities that way. You didn’t mean to laugh at him but you couldn’t stop it from bubbling out of your chest.

His brown eyes snap to you on the couch head thrown back gripping your stomach to try and regain control of yourself. Maybe if tears weren’t welling up in the corner of your eyes you would have noticed him position himself in front of you. It wasn’t until you felt the heat of his breath fan across your face that you opened your eyes enough to see him towering over you. His hands resting on either side of your hips on the couch caging you in.

“Are you laughing at me?” While the smirk on his face was menacing the look in his eyes show you slight nervousness. Almost enough to make you feel like maybe being this close has the same effect on him. You finally let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Why I would never! It’s completely believable for you to have the same athletic abilities as the WWF superstars Eddie.” Sarcasm is dripping from your words and his eyes narrow at you. The gesture makes your thighs press together.

You can feel his hands slowly make their way from the couch cushion before the heat of them are against your thighs. The squeeze he gives them is so gentle that your almost don’t know if it’s your imagination.

“You’re gonna regret those words pretty girl.”

Fuck. Pretty girl? Again?

Before you can react his grip tightens at the dip of your knees, and your being lifted off the couch. You knew Eddie was strong always having to watch him and Garett interrupt band practices with their impromptu play fights after taunting each other all day, but you didn’t think he was pick you up like a rag doll strong. The new knowledge goes straight between your legs.

You can’t help but squeal when you feel weight less for a second as he gives you a gentle toss up hooking his arms under your knees causing your legs to dangle on either side of his shoulders. His eyes are level with your stomach, the bottoms your breasts brush lightly against his forehead as your lean forward for balance, your fingers gripping into his waves for dear life.

“This isn’t TV Eddie, you need to put me down!” You try to sound serious but the uncontrollable laughter leaving your mouth doesn’t exactly sell it for you.

“Eddie The Banished has over zealous newcomer right where he wants her.” Eddie’s doing his best announcer voice as you feel his legs start to move you two towards the direction of his room. “It looks like yet again y/n’s mouth wrote a check her ass can’t cash.”

“I’m gonna beat your ass for real Eddie if you don’t put me down.” You tug at his hair a little harder to try and get his attention. When his eyes meet yours from between your legs you’re not prepared for the view from this angle, your body’s natural response to push your thighs together is stopped by his iron clad grip. You see something you couldn’t put your finger on flash over his face when he feels the movements of your legs and your cursing yourself for not having better control.

You don’t realize your falling until your back hits his mattress hard, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. Eddie’s laughing from between your legs, arms still loosely wrapped around just above your knees, his warm cheek is pressed against the smooth skin of your thigh. Your heart swelling at the pure joy that’s radiating off of him in this moment. You wanted to bottle it up and keep it for yourself for a rainy day.

“You almost killed us Munson, are you happy with yourself?” The smile on your own face threatening to break you in half.

He doesn’t move from his position after his laughter subsides, his grip on your legs tightening slightly before he responds.

“You know the maid didn’t clean my room today.” Referring to the combat boot he tripped on there’s a light tint of pink on his cheeks and your fingers twitch wanting to reach out.

That’s when you see the opportunity you couldn’t resist having positioned himself perfectly to use your favorite finishing move on him. His eyes go wide when he sees your thighs start to close in on his neck. He try’s to catch them before he can be trapped in but he’s too late.

“In a turn of events Eddie The Banished has been pinned by so called over zealous newcomer will he do the self respectful thing and tap out?” Mocking his announcers voice you tighten the muscles around his neck.

Of course Eddie doesn’t give in doing his best to try and break free, thrashing his head wildly against you. You’re too busy laughing at him that you don’t realize how close his movements have positioned his face to where you had only dreamed about him touching. The place he effects you the most. It’s when his nose accidentally runs the length of your covered folds that you notice, a load moan falling from your lips.

The silence that falls between you two is deafening and you wish you could somehow disappear into his mattress. When you go to release your hold on him his hands grip tighter to your thighs keeping them where they are, his nose runs along your length again this time with more pressure then before.

“Eddie.” Your voice is shaky when is comes out still trying to figure out if this was really happening or not, but then he does it again and your body shudders making you realize this isn’t a dream.

“Sweetheart, are you making a mess of your shorts for me?” Hearing Eddie talking to you like this sends another wave of arousal to your core.

“Open your eyes princess.” So lost in your thoughts you hadn’t realized you closed them.

When you finally open your eyes and look down the sight makes you bite down on your bottom lip another loud moan begging to come out. He’s rested between your plush thighs, the heat of his blown out stare makes you want to squirm, his tongue darts out licking along his bottom lip just inches away from your fluttering core. You can see his hips rutting lightly into his mattress needing the friction. He looks needy.

His fingers dig deeply into your warm skin “I said is this mess all over your shorts for me?”

Eddie’s dominant tone adds to the mess that’s building inside your panties, A fantasy of yours after you saw the handcuffs in his room. You’re mad that you’ve deprived yourself of the sight in front of you for so long, you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on.

“Yes, Eddie.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yes what?” He’s not happy with your simple answers having thought about this moment himself for years. He runs his tongue flat along the wet spot on your shorts causing you to throw your head back and your hips push forward chasing him.

“Yes, I’m soaking through my shorts for you Eddie. I’m always wet when I’m around you.” You finally confess looking back down at him your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“That must’ve been really painful not being able to do anything about it huh?” He’s gentle with how he speaks but you can hear the condescending tone laced underneath it, he was getting off on how desperate you were for him. Still you can’t help it when you nod.

His finger tips trace down the length of the outside of your thighs until they hit the black denim of your shorts. They slide underneath the material squeezing tightly at the doughy flesh of your ass, groaning when he’s met with the lace trim of your panties.

“Lets get these off hm?”

Still only nodding, your voice leaving you Eddie makes quick work of the 4 metal buttons of your high waisted shorts his fingers curling around the top of them he pauses his eyes meeting yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can tell me no and I’ll stop right now.”

Of course Eddie’s still making sure your comfortable, even seconds away from getting your pants off. You were a fucking goner.

“Are you sure you want to do this Eddie? I don’t think I can go back to normal after this.” You finally say wishing you could read his mind.

“I thought it was obvious.” He’s smiling so hard you can see the dimples in his cheeks “I’ve had a crush on you ever since you and your mom moved into the trailer park three years ago. If we do this, your gonna have to move away to get rid of me.”

“What if it doesn’t work out and we ruin everything? I can’t lose you Eddie.” All the reasons you’ve fought this for so long come rushing back to you now that the haze of lust has temporarily subsided.

Eddie pushes himself up, sliding his body against yours until you are both eye level with each other, still nestled between your legs. Propping himself up with one arm, his fingers reach out to brush the stray hairs from your worried face.

“I’ll always be here for you, even if life somehow fucks us up. I’ll never be able to stay away. Not for long.” the look in his eyes is so sincere that it almost brings tears to yours. “I love you.” He says the last part so quiet that you almost don’t hear it.

“I love you too Eddie, I always have.” Your confession comes out in a whisper and you can’t help but take his face in your hands crashing your lips into his. Finally giving into all of those years you fought against it. He doesn’t hesitate moving his lips against yours, his tongue begging for entrance licking at your bottom lip. Quickly granting him access you both moan into the kiss as it deepens. Both of you taking advantage of this opportunity to explore every inch of each other’s mouths trying to memorize exactly how it feels, Neither one of you wanting to forget any detail about this moment.

When you finally break away to catch your breath he makes quick work of the slope of your neck dragging with his wet lips across your skin, licking and biting at the soft flesh addicted to the sounds he elicits from you.

Your hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, tugging gently silently begging for him to take it off. He sucks hard onto the sensitive spot behind your ear before pushing him self up on his knees. You watch with baited breath as his fingers curve under the hem up his shirt slowly dragging it up and over his wild curls. The view is even better then you could have ever imagined. His chest was smooth till it hit the happy trail you had gotten a glimpse of earlier and wanted to follow it, the demon head tattoo you had only ever seen the one time he flashed it to you at Hellfire was clear as day now. His pick necklace hanging above the dip of his neck. Pushing yourself up slightly you don’t stop yourself from reaching out this time, running your finger tips over the toned muscles of his abdomen watching them flex under your touch. Your nails drag through the rough hairs of his happy trail and it makes him suck his bottom lip between his teeth closing his eyes at the sensation.

“You’re so handsome Eddie.” You can’t help yourself as you eyes hungrily take in all the newly exposed parts of him.

When his eyes open there’s a look of adoration that dances inside them, he reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, the cool of his rings biting into your hot skin.

“It’s your turn now pretty girl” His smile is gentle when his hand leaves you to join the other at the bottom of your shirt pulling it up. Eddie takes in an audible breath when he sees the black lace bra, he knows that it must match the lace he felt wrapped around your ass.

“Lace set y/n? Are you sure your plan wasn’t to seduce me tonight?” He can’t help but arch an eyebrow at you his grin turning lopsided.

Red takes over your neck and cheeks, you wouldn’t dare tell him that you made sure to wear a matching set anytime you knew you’d be alone with him. Despite your personal protests, you never wanted to not be prepared in case it ever happened. And now sitting here in front of him, you don’t regret your choices at all.

“Last time I checked you’re the one who wanted ‘wrestle’” you give him air quotes dodging his question.

Chuckling to himself Eddie shakes his head at you, his bangs falling messily in his face.

“Shut up, I’m trying to get you naked.” He teases pulling you against his chest, Taking advantage you start peppering your own open mouth kisses along the nape of his neck. His fingers tips brush against your back as he makes work of your bra clasps. Once he has them unhooked they ghost up your spine before gliding up to your straps, he takes his time pulling them down the curve of your shoulder. Bending down as he plants a soft kisses where the straps rested. His hair tickling the side of your cheek, you can feel how hard he is under his jeans.

“Let me see you.” His voice is low next to your ear and it makes you shiver.

You push yourself away from him leaving just enough space between you two for him to get a clear view as your bra falls away from you. Suddenly feeling vulnerable in nothing but your unbuttoned shorts, you’ve never been this exposed to Eddie. You can’t help but feel self conscious under his gaze as he greedily takes you in.

“Fuck - Sweetheart.” He lets out a loud breath through his nose. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror? Fucking perfect.”

Eddie’s words overwhelm you.

“Eddie, please just touch me. I need you.” Your voice shakes when you reach out for his hands bringing them to your breasts, your nipples hardening instantly under his touch.

His eyes close tightly when he feels how your body reacts to him a low growl leaving his chest. When his eyes open they are completely black and you can feel yourself dripping down your thigh, pressing them together desperate for some relief. Your words causing a shift in his demeanor.

“You need me huh baby?” His voice comes out like a purr as he bends down to capture one of your pert nipples in his mouth.

“Shit- Eddie!” You gasp as his tongue swirls around the hard bud before taking it between his teeth, your hands are buried in his hair holding him closer. When he’s finally satisfied with both he lets the one he’s working on fall from his mouth with a loud pop. His big doe eyes are almost unrecognizable when they meet yours, he looks like he’s ready to devour you and you can’t help the shudder that runs deep through your body. His hard on looks painful pressed against the zipper of his jeans and all you want to do is help him. Reaching out you cup the swollen bulge with one of your small hands, making him close his eyes at contact. He’s rock hard. A surge of confidence fills you knowing that you were the reason for how fucked out he was right now.

“Who’s got you so hard baby?” Its your turn to indulge in his torture.

He doesn’t give you any time to answer, grabbing your hips harshly twisting you around. With your back against his chest you can feel just how labored his breathing his. With out warning he ruts himself into your ass so hard you have to grab ahold of his bed frame in front of you to keep your balance a needy moan falling from your lips. You wanted him so bad.

His fingers dig into your sides begging to bruise your soft flesh pulling you flush against him, his lips trace down the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver.

“You know who’s got me this hard. Those fucking shorts had me readjusting all night.” His right had leaves its place on your hip and finds it way into your pants pushing past your underwear his fingers trace up your soaking entrance, his middle finger dipping lightly into your hole and you can’t help but flutter around him.

“Fuck, she wants me so bad she’s trying to suck me in pretty girl.” You can feel the proud smirk against your skin. “And she’s so fucking wet.”

You were starting to get impatient with how slow he was going, your body almost in pain with how turned on you were. Reaching behind, you do your best to undo the button of his jeans, when you succeed you shove desperately trying to get to what you want so badly. His hands are quick to leave their spot from teasing your entrance to grab your wrists, his grip is tight.

“Don’t just grab at me, use your words.” His tone I commanding and it adds to your desperation.

“I need you to fuck me Eddie. Please just fuck me.” The last part comes out as a whine and if you weren’t so lost in him you’d want to slap yourself for sounding so needy.

“Good girl, was that so hard?” You can feel the cockiness radiating off of him as you hear the jingles of his chains still giving you what you want shimmying out his pants. The weight of his dick hits the small of your back pre cum wetting your skin at contact. Your grip on his bed frame tightens a whimper leaving your mouth as you push yourself back against him needing more.

“Needy aren’t you?” He’s taunting as he nips at the skin of your shoulder blades, his hands making quick work of your shorts before he’s leaning back. “I just wanted to see these panties first pretty girl. You wear these for me?” All you can do is whimper pressing your thighs together tightly trying to relive some of the pressure against your swollen clit.

His fingers knead the fat of your ass cheek before spanking lightly testing the waters.

“I asked you a question. Did you wear these for me?” His lips are against your ear again and your feel him finally start to push the lace down your hips.

“Yes.” You bite your lip ready to confess to him what you swore you wouldn’t. “I wear them every time we hang out...just” You can’t finish your answer when you feel two of his fingers dip into you without warning. Your head falls back against his shoulder a loud moan echoing through his room as you feel yourself griping tightly at the slow motion of his fingers. He pushes them even deeper and you can feel the metal of his rings at your entrance, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He was so deep.

“Just what? Just in case you let me fuck you sweet heart? That’s so fucking cute.” He chuckles darkly in your ear removing his fingers from their place inside of you to draw figure eights on your swollen nub and your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Your grab of his hands stopping his motions tired of his teasing, you waited too long for this.

Twisting around you push with enough force to knock him on his back, the view of his hard on is even more intimidating from this angle. Eddie’s shocked expression immediately turns hungry when he sees you kick of your panties completely, he can see how wet you are from here. Its almost a reflex when he reaches out to wrap his fingers around himself for relief. A hiss leaving his mouth, sensitive to his own touch but his eyes never leave yours.

Crawling up him you let the tip of his cock run down the length of you before you rest yourself perching at his tip and it makes him throw his head back with his bottom lip tugged tight between his teeth a mental image he never wants to forget.

“Looks like I’m the one who pinned you Eddie The banished.” His eyes snap up at your words and before he can protest you take him in, completely bottom out.

“Jesus-fuck” Eddie screams, his fingers grabbing harshly to your waist, there’s a light sting of pain at his size but when you feel him twitch inside you it sends another wave of arousal through you coating him even more as you start to rock your hips. You hands are spread across his chest and you have a perfect view of his fucked out expression, his mouth is slightly open, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and his eyelids heavy with lust.

“You feel so good Eddie. So big. So full.” Your hands leave his chest so you can move faster, his tip hitting your sweet spot and you’ve waited long enough to cum.

“You gonna cum princess?” His tone sounds sweet when he asks you and all you can do is nod feeing your self getting dangerously close to falling off the cliff you’d be climbing.

In the blink of an eye your high is ripped away from you, Eddie grabbing your hips firmly pulling himself out of you. Flipping you over Eddie rests himself between your spread legs his hard cock resting against your entrance. His pink mushroom tip hits your clit with every breath he takes and it makes you rock hips against him desperate to find your orgasm again.

“Over zealous new comer yet again gets herself into trouble with her smart mouth. Eddie The banished is in for the pin.”

Your eyes widen at realization of this words and just like you did to him he doesn’t give you anytime to answer before he’s bottoming out inside of you. Your scream is silent as he some how feels even bigger from this angle. Feeling generous Eddie gives you a minute before he pushes himself back up on his knees, hooking his arms under your thighs lifting your bottom half up with him. You are completely at his mercy from this position and you can feel your walls tighten around him again in anticipation.

“Will she do the respectable thing and tap out?” He arches and eye brow at you slowly twirling his hips and it feels so good.

Meeting Eddies’s eyes you push your hips up into him taking him deeper and it makes his eyes roll in the back of his head. “I’m not fucking tapping out, so why don’t you fuck me?”

You swear you hear him growl at your words, his grip tightening around your thighs as he begins thrusting into you hard and deliberate your tits hitting your chin with every stroke.

“Such a dirty fuckin’ mouth pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum harder then you ever have and then you’ll learn to challenge me.” One of his hands reaches between your legs, his fingers find your clit and it makes your head fall back a low moan falling form your lips as his thrusts continue to hit that sweet spot inside of you once again.

Between his fingers working your swollen nub and the deep strokes of his cock you could feel the coil start to tighten in your stomach again. The only word you knew was his name, it’s the only thing that left your mouth as he continued never slowing down.

“Look at me, I wanna see your eyes when you cum, I can tell your close baby. Cover me, tell everyone who’s making you feel this good. Fuck all I’ve ever wanted was to see you cum.” Eddie’s words are dunk with lust as he watches your green eyes open and meet his. Your walls are sucking him in as you can feel yourself start to fall apart at his words.

“Fuck Eddie, I’m cumming.” You gasp as his tip hits at a slightly different angle, your mouth falls open as you watch his dark eyes hungrily devour you as your orgasm washes over you. The feeling of you coming undone around him makes Eddie’s orgasm dangerously close behind you, his thrusts getting sloppier as your walls continue to flutter around him.

“Shit- I’m gonna cum.” You can feel his grip loosen around your thighs to get ready to pull out and you clamp your legs around his arms so he can’t move still milking him, his eyes go wide at your actions

“I said I’m gonna cum, Shit-fuck I can’t stop.” His words come out as a whine as his eyes close tight his cock twitching inside of you before he’s painting your walls with himself. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of this feeling, thankful for birth control. Eddie’s body finally collapses on top of you still not daring to pull himself out, you both lay there for a second catching your breaths, with your arms wrapped around him you enjoy the feeling of being connected. Something about it makes you feel complete, like there was a piece of you that he held and you didn’t know how bad you needed it until now.

When Eddie finally breaks away from you he’s propping himself up on his forearms so he’s eye level with you, there’s a shit eating grin on his face and you know he’s about to ruin this moment.

“So I definitely won that match.”

You roll your eyes so hard you think they might get stuck in the back of your head.

“It was a no contest match sorry.” Your snort pushing him away but he doesn’t budge.

“Well, good thing your spending the night. I’m demanding a rematch, this is the beginning of a long feud pretty girl, I hope your ready.” Eddie’s still grinning as he bends down to capture your lips. The feeling of Eddie still inside of you and the love he was trying to convey to you in the way his lips moved against yours, you’re glad you didn’t have to fight it anymore because honestly it’s even better then you could of ever dreamed

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avastrasposts · 6 months

Text

Six and a half minutes - Frankie's version

In honour of Frankie Friday, I've repurposed a short little smutty thing I wrote back in January (I think) and changed it around a bit. So some of you may already have read it, but I think it's probably new to most of you. Please enjoy Frankie interrupting you in the kitchen.

Buen provecho!

The holidays were just around the corner so you’d decided to get a head start on making your favourite Christmas cookies and pies, reserving an entire weekend for the project. You'd been at it since Friday afternoon and today, Sunday, you’d started to regret your decision to cram it all into one weekend. You're tired, warm and sweaty in your hot kitchen, shedding your sweatpants and opting for just knickers and a t-shirt under the apron. But you’re finally down to your last bake; saffron rolls. Delicious and soft, golden in colour, and filled with almond paste, butter and sugar. The smell that wafted through your kitchen was heady and rich as you pulled the first batch from the oven and slid the second tray in.

You’d placed the hot ones on a cooling rack and just gone back to the dough, when you heard the key in the front door, glancing over your shoulder. Frankie stepped over the threshold and shrugged out of his coat, pushing the door closed behind him. You saw him lift his head at the smell of saffron and butter and sniff loudly, looking into the kitchen.

“You’re looking very sexy, bebita,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice, “kneading that dough, cute butt on display for me.”

He stepped up behind you and his arms went around your waist, pulling you into his body, his nose grazing across the back of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell very sexy too, saffron, sugar and butter, good enough to eat, hermosa” he growled, his hand coming up and cupping your breast through the apron.

“Hands off, Frankie,” you ordered, “the next batch of rolls are coming out in,” you looked over at the timer on the oven, “six and a half minutes and you’re not making me burn them.”

“Six and a half minutes?” Frankie grinned into your neck. “That sounds like a challenge.”

He sunk his mouth to the soft skin on your shoulder, kissing it and moving his tongue across as he worked his way up towards your ear.

“Seriously, Frankie, do not make me burn the rolls!” you exclaimed as you felt his teeth nip at your earlobe, sending a little jolt down to your core.

“I promise, I’ve got six and half minutes to make you scream my name, cariño,” he mumbled as his hand left your breast and grabbed your jaw, pulling your face round to his mouth. You felt his tongue, licking your lips and making you open them with a moan.

His other hand had left your waist and trailed down the back of your naked thighs, his big hand warm against your skin. You shivered as he moved it in between your legs, his rough fingertips caressing up along the smooth skin of your inner thigh and you felt a familiar heat build up inside you. Frankie’s hands and mouth always made you wet when he wanted it and he knew the effect he had on you. Now he grumbled into your mouth.

“Are you wet for me already, bebita? Want me to check?”

You moaned and moved to pull your hands out of the dough as his words made you ache to touch him, pull him closer.

“No, no,” he grinned, pulling away from your mouth. “Keep them there, I’m gonna make you come right here, no need to clean your hands, no need to touch me.” He gave you a wicked grin and pushed his open mouth on yours again.

You felt his hand cup the fabric of your pussy from behind, his fingers sitting right over your clit, it had already started to ache for more. He pressed a finger against it, soaking the fabric with the slick already building up inside.

“Hermosa…dripping wet for me already, I knew it, such a needy girl,” he breathed against your mouth as he felt the wetness stick to his fingers.

He pushed the fabric aside and his finger moved through the wet folds, edging up towards your clit and he started to circle it. Ordinarily he would tease you, just edge around the clit, moving back and let his fingers play around your entrance before he went fully to work, but now he was on the clock.

The sensation of his fingers made you gasp into his mouth, stifling a moan as he gently rubbed the calloused pad of his finger over your clit, creating friction that sent jolts of electricity into your core.

“Fuck…cariño…if I knew baking made you this wet I’d come back earlier,” Frankie mumbled, he’d pulled away from your mouth and was watching you gasp as he pushed you further toward the edge. One hand was kneading your breast, fingers pinching your nipple when the fingers on his other hand pushed down on your clit, it made your nerves scream every time. Through half open eyes you saw him watch you intently, turned on by the ecstasy visible on your face as he caressed your pussy.

“Frankie, “ you moaned, “how much longer?” You're panting out the words and he chuckles, amused by the effect of his fingers on your clit.

He glanced over at the oven, “Four minutes, hermosa, I best get to work.”

With swift hands he hooked his fingers into your knickers and pulled them down before he grabbed your hips and pulled your butt towards him. Your hands were still in the dough and when he pulled you back, you stretched out and rested your chest on the flour covered surface, back arching and opening you up for him.

Frankie’s hands left you for a few seconds and you heard him undo his trousers and push them down.

“Bebita…if only you could see what I’m seeing,” he groaned, “this dripping wet pussy of yours looks more delicious than anything you can bake,” his voice low and dark as he ran his hands over your behind, kneading the flesh before running the tip of his cock along the edge of your pussy, making you spasm and shiver, pushing up against him.

“Please, Frankie, please fuck me, the time,” you whimpered as you felt the tip of his hard cock drag over your clit.

“Are you worried about the rolls or do you just really need my cock in you?” He was chuckling but you heard the strain in his voice, the need in him to sink himself into you and feel your pussy clench around him.

“Frankie, please,” you moaned again, your pussy aching to feel him inside you, that thick cock filling you all the way up and straining your cunt wide.

With a groan, he did as you begged, and pushed himself inside, grabbing your hips and pulling you on to him, his cock sinking deep. You gasped, the force of his thrust pushing you forward, making you sink your fingers into the dough, grabbing on to it for any kind of support as the heat inside you started to build.

“Fuck, bebita, always so tight for me, like your cunt is trying to choke me,” Frankie moaned as he pulled out to the tip. You looked over your shoulder and saw him looking down between you with lust blown eyes, seeing the way his cock was coated in your juice. “So fucking wet for me, hermosa,” he groaned and with a tight grip on your hips he pushed himself in again, slamming against the back of your legs, and you felt him bottom out inside you, making you cry out as he hit every nerve ending inside, making you spasm and convulse around him.

Frankie set a fast pace, no time for gentle love making as he’s chased both your release and his own. His thick hard cock filled you up, the hard ridges and veins of it created friction deep inside you, making you moan every time he pulled out and slammed back in. He was breathing hard, his fingers sure to make bruises on your skin from how tight he was holding on to you.

He bent down, circled his arm around your waist as his hand settled between your legs, never missing a beat thrusting into you. Rough fingers started to roll over the centre of nerves between your legs and your breaths stuttered and became ragged. Moaning his name you clenched the dough and pushed hard back against his cock as it slammed into you.

“Bebita, I need you come for me, I’m not gonna last,” Frankie panted, “I need your tight little pussy to come on my cock,” he groaned, a deep rumble in his chest, “squeeze me real hard, and then I’ll fill you up with my cum.”

He slammed his cock into you, your pussy started to convulse around him as his fingers rolled across your clit. “Gonna fill you up,” he pulled out and thrust back in, “and then watch my cum drip from your pussy as you knead that dough.”

His cock bottomed out and hit new spots deep inside as his words pushed you over the edge. With a strangled cry you felt your pussy cramp around his hard cock buried deep inside and Frankie growled loudly behind you as his rhythm faltered. The climax hit you hard, making you arch your back into him, trying to push him even deeper in as you moaned his name and his fingers dug into your hips. He thrust himself onto you, collapsing over your back, his hips moving slower, milking every drop of himself into your pussy as he groaned into your hair.

You leaned your head on the kitchen table, the dough sticking to your hands, as Frankie’s hot breath flowed over your neck. From the oven you heard the timer start to beep and he chuckled.

“Right on time, cariño.”

#frankie morales #frankie friday #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 1 year

Text

“Y’know, when I was little, I had hair down to my ass.”

Billy digs down at the bottom of the bag, inspecting the orange dust that coats his knuckles before he crunches on another chip. He knows that Steve is doing his customary nod to show that he’s listening even though he can’t even see him.

Fingers gently rake through his roots, massaging at his scalp, and Billy lolls his head against one of Steve’s thighs. Scrapes down at the bottom of the bag with his dust-caked fingers and huffs when he comes up empty-handed.

“I bet it was untamable,” Steve says fondly. Chuckles as he watches Billy suck a cluster of orange away from the pad of one of his fingers. “I wish I could’ve met you when you were a kid. If you were anything like how you are now, I bet we would’ve been inseparable.”

“You would’ve gotten sick of me in about ten minutes.”

Steve tsks, but keeps toying with Billy’s hair where it spills into his lap. Starts gathering sections to fasten it into a braid for about the tenth time since they’ve been sitting here.

Ever since Robin showed him how a few nights ago, he’s been fixated on becoming a pro for whatever reason.

Probably so he can braid his daughter’s hair someday.

The thought makes Billy’s face flush with a familiar heat. It’s not the first time he’s thought about Steve’s — their future — like that. Their furniture together. It’s not even the first time today that he’s thought about it.

“I mean, I could tolerate Tommy, so I think we’d have been fine,” Steve says. “He was a crier. Could never take hits even when he was the first to start shit, and then he’d go tell, and I’d always get the ass-whooping.”

Steve shakes his head. Sighs to himself and tucks a stray curl behind Billy’s ear.

“Dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly stoic,” Billy muses.

“You get what I mean, though. We would’ve had a fucking blast together as kids.” As soon as Steve finishes the braid, he unwinds it gently from the tail up. Combs his fingers through it thereafter and brushes one of his hands over Billy’s cheek. “What made you cut it?”

Billy tilts his head back, staring upside down at Steve while another hand comes to swipe his bangs away from his face. There’s an easy smile playing on the brunet’s lips.

“My old man took me to a barber shop a little bit before my fifth birthday.”

Steve’s smile falters.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Billy’s eyes slip shut, and he focuses on the warm palms touching his skin. Careful enough to be handling porcelain. “Got in trouble, so he dragged me there and had it all buzzed off.”

“That’s… drastic. What did you do?”

“Dunno.”

“You don’t remember?”

Billy huffs. He kind of wants to laugh, because everything his dad has ever done is hilarious when set in the past tense. The screaming, the veins popping out in his neck, the look on his face.

But then something else wells in his chest at the thought, and it isn’t funny.

“All I remember is crying my eyes out in that chair. Probably got into my mom’s lipstick or some shit, it didn’t take much to set him off.”

“He was probably just jealous of your pretty curls,” Steve says softly. It brings a small smile to Billy’s face. “Seriously though, I’m sorry he… I’m sorry you had to experience that. You don’t cut a kid’s hair as punishment.”

Near the end, his voice gets a bit stern, and Billy feels the sun simmering under his skin. Burning through his pores and shining light up into Steve’s face like rays of sunshine through parted clouds.

You’d make a good dad.

Billy wants more than anything to say it, but his lips form around something else when he parts them.

“We would’ve been fast friends if we met as kids,” he says.

“I don’t need another friend.” Steve’s face flushes with pink realization when Billy opens his eyes, and he quickly shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have needed— I had lots of friends, so I would’ve—” Steve cuts himself off with a sigh and pinches his eyes shut for a moment. “We would have held hands, y’know? Had sleepovers up in my treehouse, just the two of us.”

Billy can’t even begin to suppress the blossoming grin on his face.

“I never considered that little Stevie was a player too.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Well, in that case, I’m glad we didn’t meet as kids. Neil would’ve just taken that from me too.”

The brunet sobers. Rubs his thumb over the apple of Billy’s cheek.

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do.” Billy turns his face towards his partner’s open hand, smiling as he presses a kiss to the soft skin of his palm. “Just like I know that in every universe, every hypothetical situation, Neil will be an asshole, I know that there’s no timeline where I don’t love you at first sight.”

Steve, ever the romantic, presses his lips together as a chapped red overtakes his cheeks. Billy sits up on his knees and turns around to lean into Steve’s lap at the first sign of tears.

He hugs his torso. Buries his face into Steve’s t-shirt and squeezes him when he sniffles.

“I’m glad we met when we did,” Billy adds. “When we both really needed it.”

Slender arms wrap around him, cradling him closer, and Steve’s chest echoes with a chuckle.

“When I needed another ass-kicking.”

“No— you know what I mean, you dork.”

“I do.” Steve strokes his hair, and Billy melts further into him. Feels, for a moment, like he’s five years old again and hugging his mother at the beach. “I’m just happy we met at all,” he says. “But I’m confident that it had to happen no matter what. Even if we were ninety and using walkers.”

Billy chuckles at that. Imagines, instead, the two of them growing old together. Here in this home that they’ve made for themselves, with their latest set of grandchildren running a muck.

He thinks he’d be willing to learn to like kids for that.

“As if either of us will make it to ninety,” he muses.

“Hey, shut up, we’re both living to a hundred and twenty because I said so.”

Steve tugs gently on his hair, prompting him to tilt his head back and look up. The brunet has the fondest look on his face, like he’s found spiritual enlightenment in Billy’s eyes.

Billy thinks he knows the feeling.

“Kay,” he says.

“It’s nice out right now.”

Fuck if either of them know if that’s true. All they know right now, all that exists in this moment, is each other.

“Mm, you wanna go for a walk?” Billy hums.

A huge smile blossoms over Steve’s face. He pushes his fingers through Billy’s hair one last time, cupping his cheek and letting the blond lean into his touch.

“Sure. I have to go change my shirt, though, because I’m pretty sure you got Dorito dust all over it.”

Billy snorts. Sure enough, when he raises his hand into view, his fingertips are still stained orange. Steve just smiles at him before they both get overwhelmed by giggles.

I’m glad I met you.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #tw child abuse #this is a little rushed but I’m hoping to put out another before the week is up #ficlet #my writing

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ronald-to-die · 4 months

Text

my brain cooked another super dumb headcanon instead of studying pls don't call me crazy I know it sounds weird but hear me out:

imagine Percy getting kitnapped (again) waking up in a room next to Ares being chained to a desk and both of them are forced to - quoting Zeus - "sit it out until their annoying childish behaviour stops getting on my fucking nerves"

and bruh the room turns out to be a studio builed by Hephaestus so that - quoting Zeus (again) - "everyone on Olympus can witness how I really would love to burn these two into crispy thanksgiving turkeys but galactic embarrassment should do it."

AND NOW IMAGINE that Percy and Ares are starting a freaking podcast about the most random stuff (probably just screaming at each other) and everyone, even the monsters in Tartarus listen to that shit these two crackheads come up with:

Percy: Welcome back to "cousins-in-crime now is your time" podcast. In todays episode it's my time to demonstrate you the screams of a demigod cutting his own leg off instead of loosing his mind. Stay tuned.

Ares: That's the step in the right direction. .... did you get the joke? I don’t wanna get into it, it’s very thigh-sensitive. Damn. My leg puns are quite the feet

Percy: You should tell Achilles. This shit would keep him on his toes.

Ares: Nah I don't think he could stand any more leg jokes

Percy afterwards getting recognized in battle not as the son of Poseidon but as "that funny grumpy dude from that super aggressive 'cousins-in-crime' podcast! You both were awesome! Hey, could you sign my fangs?? Down in Tartarus, I would be THE SHIT if I tell everyone that I met you. "

Ares and Percy Podcast.

change my mind this would be so funny

(Bonus: they have guests.)

#percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #ares #percy jackson ares #percy jackson #headcanon

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

Text

Body Shots (Kieran, Martin + reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Your situationships with both Martin and Kieran boil over when both boys plot to show you how fun they can be.

Purely self indulgent, based on my favorite trope to ever exist. Beta read by my babe @cfchloe

At today's match at the Emirates, your only wish is for Kieran to be subbed on.

You've entertained a 'will they, won't they' sort of relationship with Kieran for months now. The Scotsman is reluctant to actually make a move thanks to Arteta's strict rules regarding players being forbidden to date staff.

However, that same rule hasn't stopped the other boy that's shown interest in you, none other than the captain, Martin Ødegaard. He's asked you out twice now but you've politely declined, letting him know you're not interested in anything serious in any sense of the word. Martin being Martin, once he had an explanation he accepted your word as law and backed off, maintaining a playful, flirty relationship with you that you both enjoy.

In the tunnel whilst you were fixing Kieran's jacket before he headed out, you'd given him a task: if he was subbed on, you wanted him to score. If he couldn't do that then you wanted to see him get an assist, so you could still celebrate him.

Luck shines down on you when he's on the pitch at the 65th minute, and you fear you'll nearly melt into your seat behind the bench when he glances over at you once he's in position. You're pretty sure you've become a puddle when Kieran flicks his tongue over his lips, hands on his hips while he waits for kick off, eyes locked on yours.

Kieran gives a hundred and ten percent from the moment the whistle blows. He moves like a demon, twisting past defenders and moving like a wisp on the wind. Each time he has the ball at his feet you're up off your seat, thighs tense with anticipation as you wait for him to shoot. And after a few minutes he crosses it to his right, aiming for Saka and hitting his mark perfectly.

Nine minutes after coming on, Kieran has completed your request. You aren't surprised; he's been confident lately and you knew he'd make an impact today. You scream yourself hoarse along with every single red-blooded gunner in the stadium, so loud that the ground shakes.

You don't have the words to describe how proud you are. Even if you're not official, you love knowing that Kieran takes you seriously.

Martin is the one Kieran looks towards, with a thousand watt smile that shines as brilliant as the sun. Martin's face reflects the same pride you feel in your chest as he heads for his best mate first, hugging him in congratulations and saying something that sparks Kieran's attention. You can just make out the words 'are you serious?' On Kieran's lips, and Martin responds with a nod. When Martin's eyes find you in the crowd, the look he gives you sends a delicious chill down your spine.

What do those two have up their sleeves?

**********

Three hours later you've joined half the squad at Aaron's house for an after party. A four one win that sees them keep a steady lead at the top of the table is reason enough to have everyone wanting to celebrate, although personally you're more interested in celebrating Kieran.

The two of you sit on the sofa, heads bent together to hear each other over the music. You spotted Martin when you came in twenty minutes ago but he hasn't come over to say hello yet, probably caught up in making his rounds.

You finish the drink you'd stolen from Kieran upon your arrival and wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. "Ugh- if we go out to a pub, remind me to not get whatever you have. It's terrible! Doesn't that burn your stomach? Or am I just weak?"

Kieran's laugh sets off butterflies in your stomach and brings a flush to your cheeks. "Lassie, it's only whisky! It's nae that bad! I've had worse honestly- I like the taste!" His hand lands on your thigh and he shakes his head, amused by your inability to hold your liquor. On instinct you cover his hand with your own. You glance around the room to see if anyone notices the touch, worried about being caught and Kieran potentially falling back onto the bench or worse, left out of the squad entirely as punishment for being involved with a member of Arsenal staff.

"Don't look so tense elskling!" Martin leans over the sofa and plants a kiss to the crown of your head. "Everyone here is either far too wrapped up in someone of their own to notice us, or is someone that we can all trust to not go spilling the beans. No one is gonna rat us out, so let's just enjoy ourselves!"

"Us?"

"Mmhm- that's what I said, love. Didn't you tell Kieran you wanted to celebrate him? That's what we're gonna do." Martin leans forward and fills your glass with a shot of vodka.

"Um… yes? I guess so?" You have no idea where this is going but from the look the two boys share, you know you'll enjoy it.

Kieran lightly pats your thigh and his eyes drift over your stomach, left exposed by the tied up Arsenal kit you're wearing. His tongue darts out over his lips and your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, which Kieran notices and grins.

"Be a good lassie and finish that drink for me love, will you? Martin and I came up with something while we were waiting for you to finally show up." Martin nudges your shoulder as he leans forward, his face inches from yours. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek and it makes you shiver. You knock back the drink without a second thought, slamming the glass on the low table in front of you once you'd finished.

"Good girl," Martin mumbles in your ear before kissing your cheek. The entire interaction leaves you speechless. What in the world is going on? You've contemplated dating Kieran or Martin for ages, and you know they both want you, but this feels like some sort of fever dream.

Martin comes around to sit on your other side, his arm slung over your shoulder. "You know elskling, Kieran and I were thinking… you won't date either of us right? Because you don't want us to get in trouble. Which we appreciate- butttttt Arteta's rule doesn't say anything about a more casual relationship."

"I-" you struggle to form a coherent thought, let alone a full sentence. Kieran's hand slides closer to your center as he leans in to press a kiss to your jaw, grinning when you let out a deep breath.

"Dammit boys, you know I want you both! I've told you as much- could you please stop- stop torturing me… Jesus christ Kieran, that's amazing."

The dusting of stubble on Kieran’s face scratches deliciously on your neck as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. He smiles against your skin when he reaches the collar of the red Arsenal kit you wear, pulling it back between his teeth to expose more of your skin. A sharp inhale escapes you when his tongue darts over the hollow of your throat before he pulls away.

"Kieran-"

"Yes sweetheart? What can I do for you?"

"Nothing- ahh, fuck off Martin!" Martin starts on the opposite side, repeating everything Kieran has just done in the same order. You can't tell if it's the liquor or the boys that you're drunk on, but you're loving every second. By the time Martin finishes his round, your head is spinning and you're certain you need something more from them.

Martin leans across and grabs two bottles from near Kieran's feet. "Right, I'm doing tequila, mate you still want whisky yeah?"

"Yeah that's fine with me, anything that'll get me tipsy!"

Martin grins and nods to the table set up for drinking games across the room. No one is currently using it and your stomach flips at the thought of what they're up to.

"Oh that'll work. Sweetheart," Kieran turns to you with a wicked smile that could convince you to do anything, "what do you say you let Martin and I do some shots off you?"

"I- I'm sorry, what?! Are you two insane- actually yes you are!" Both boys laugh and wait for you actual answer, wanting honesty and preferring not to sway your thoughts. Ninety nine percent of you screams yes, but that nagging voice in the back of your head reminds you that you could lose your job. The boys could be benched if anyone here said a word, though they seem confident no one will. And aside from all that… you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the two of them together, fulfilling your own dirty fantasies.

For once in your life, you decide you want to live for yourself instead of upholding the rule book. Plus you trust Martin's word and if he says you're safe, then you’ll take the risk. "Fuck it- yeah let's go!"

You fear your heart might burst out of your chest as you and your dynamic duo get settled in. You lay on the table they've cleared for you face up, knees bent, shoes sticking to the sugar-stained surface. Kieran's fingers brush your exposed stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in is wake and catching your attention.

"Can I move this up a bit love?" He gently touches the hem of your kit and you nod, eager to get on with it before you change your mind. "Thank you. Just don't wanna wreck it is all, since I know you cannae replace it. It's the one from your first day yeah?" When you nod, Kieran smiles. "Thought so. Right, pour some out for us Mar!"

Kieran tucks your shirt up to your bra, exposing your entire midriff to the cold air. Martin splays a hand on your stomach and smiles at his mate. "You want upper or lower?"

Kieran tips his head and traces a finger between your hip bones with a tenderness that makes you shiver. He's thought about this long and hard. "Right there. That's my line."

"Gonna be cold elskling, bear with me yeah?" Despite the warning, you hiss when the alcohol hits your skin, but do your best to keep still. Fuck, are your shallow breaths because you're nervous or because of how fucking hot this whole thing is?

"Mine will be right here then," Martin murmurs, dribbling a line a few inches beneath your shirt. "Same time Key?"

Same time- what?! You lift your head in time to see Kieran nod, and both boys dip their heads. "What do you-"

Under normal circumstances, you'd be embarrassed by the moan you let out when two tongues hit your stomach from opposite sides of your body. Martin and Kieran lick your skin dry, leaving it glistening when they pull away. Is this a dream? It has to be a fucking dream because you've never been turned on as much as you are now. Holy fuck was that erotic- you swear you can still feel their tongues on you even though they both are grinning at you while you lose your mind.

"You like that sweetheart? We can do it again, I wouldn't be opposed." You nod before Kieran finishes talking, and Martin pours out another round onto your stomach. This time you're slightly more prepared for the jolt of pleasure down your spine but that doesn't stop you from groaning, back arching slightly and spilling the liquid across your abdomen before they're finished.

Martin's hand lands square on your sternum and presses at the same time Kieran's finds your hip and does the same, keeping you from moving whilst they clean up the mess you created. Fucking hell, you're not sure you can take much more of this. You're already borderline overstimulated from their mouths on you and the hand Kieran inches up your side doesn't help matters.

When both boys finish, they grin at each other. Their shining mouths set the gears in your head turning and you know they must be thinking exactly the same thing.

Kieran is the one to break the silence, "Why don't we head upstairs and find a room yeah?"

Martin's grin is downright feral, curling your toes. "I thought you'd never fucking ask." Martin trails his fingers up your stomach, "and you, prinsesse? What do you say?"

"One of you carry me up right fucking now! I don't trust myself to walk."

"Now that's a request I can honor." Kieran picks you up bridal style, one arm under your knees and the other around your back, taking the steps two at a time with Martin hot on his heels. You might not be sure how this will work but one thing is for certain: you're in for a long, pleasurable night.

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #kieran tierney #kieran tierney fanfiction #kieran tierney fanfic #kieran tierney fic #kieran tierney imagine #arsenal fc #jac writes #forbidden fruit #alt timeline lover

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septimusmoonlight · 3 months

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Anonymous: could you maybe do some more necro? maybe a dragon who just gets off on your pain so much that he ends up going overboard and killing you in the process?

Ooh, yes <3 I love it when something big and powerful gets off on some pathetic human's suffering~

Perhaps a big dragon with shiny black scales has a taste for human sacrifice from the nearest village, but not in the traditional sense. He doesn't want the other humans to do the work for him, no - he wants the pleasure of that process himself, the ecstasy of dominating a creature so much lower than he is and the sheer power of being able to desecrate a corpse as he pleases. He's spilled many human tears and plenty of human blood over his lifetime, and he doesn't plan to stop anytime soon.

Well, I'm just today's unlucky winner. He snatches me up in his powerful talons to return to his lair with no ceremony, and he's easily twice my height, probably closer to three. I know the stories about what he does to his sacrifices, so I'm obviously terrified, but I'm also resigned. I know there's no way out of this, not now that he has me in his grasp. Besides, something in my lower belly stirs at the notion of getting used by something as strong as he is.

Of course, my village stripped me of my clothes to prepare me for the dragon's use, so he barely has to do anything to begin. There's a pedestal in the center of the cavern he calls home, and he deposits me there face-up; bindings of enchanted iron snap into place around my arms and legs, securing me in place at the proper height for his use. It would be troublesome for him to fuck a toy that was laying on the ground, after all, and he wouldn't be able to force his way inside if his sacrifice wasn't held down somehow.

Saliva floods my mouth at the sight of his cock. Thick and slightly tapered, with a blunted cone for a head, he clearly has the equipment to back up his pride, and he clearly enjoys using it. The question remains of whether or not I'll enjoy when he uses it, but it's not one that needs answers. I'm not here to experience pleasure; I'm here for the dragon's pleasure, and his pleasure alone. The hope is that my sacrifice to the dragon's lust will keep his desires slaked for long enough that he refrains from destroying my village. Clearly, his desires are powerful.

He lays his hard-on atop my body, as though to drive home exactly how much of it just will not fit inside of me (which is all of it). Twice as thick as my thigh and easily long enough to reach up to my neck, this thing is a killer, and one that's been used time and time again on people I once knew - and now, on me. He slides the head down my body to prop it between my legs, like he's giving me one last moment to savor being alive as I know it. Then, he pushes forward.

Obviously, this thing can't just slide in with ease. Sure, I've done some stretching in my time, but that doesn't mean I can take something that will take up all available space in my torso. The dragon knows this just as well as I do, and that's the entire point - one he drives home as he increases the pressure he's using, harder, harder, harder. I can feel my cunt struggling to stretch open as wide as he needs, my pelvic bones protesting, creaking, groaning from inside of my body as the burn of skin pulled tight intensifies. Unwilling tears sting the corners of my eyes, and then-

He makes his entrance. I can't even scream. He's so large that simply the rounded tip of his cock is more than enough to make blood gush from me in an oozing river that spills over the side of the pedestal. The skin of my cunt rips up and down in symmetry, opening a wider hole for him to use, and this is of course what he wants. He growls in satisfaction as the warmth of my blood meets his erection, and shifts his hips to push further forward. Still, my voice remains elusive, and I can only make half-human, choked-out noises that barely resemble an attempt at communication. My bones themselves are forced to bend under the force of his might.

He finds my cervix within mere moments of entering me, stretching and tearing my vaginal canal open to meet it. It is, of course, no obstacle for him, and continuous pressure is more than enough to make it buckle, spreading in torturous waves around his head. Something creaks, cracks, and then folds outwards, and motion is suddenly much smoother for him; shock must be keeping the full agony away from me, but my pelvis has broken open to let him through. Tears are coursing down my face without pause now, and the air smells like copper. I can just barely sob, fighting for breath against the pain in a way that makes the dragon's cock twitch. Even just that small movement is enough to send fire racing up and down my body.

Motivated by my suffering, he pushes forward. My womb rips within moments. All of my internal organs squelch out of the way, my belly bulging as he hollows out my abdomen, and blood wells up in my mouth as he prods just a little too hard at my stomach itself. I can only draw a pitiful attempt at a last breath before another shove presses him up against my diaphragm, squeezing the air out of my lungs themselves before he flattens them outright against my ribcage. My ribs themselves dislocate away from my sternum as he lodges himself up against my beating heart, which is trying its absolute hardest to keep me alive despite just how absolutely dead I am at this point. I may still be awake, but there's no saving me now; I'm just a corpse with a pulse.

He growls in satisfaction as my body struggles to stay alive around him. Blood spills from the corner of my mouth. My ears are ringing. Despite the fact that I'm barely functioning, the remains of my pelvic muscles are still attempting to tighten around him, responding to the pleasure of being so overpowered and helpless, especially in the face of an elegant and handsome beast like him. It's as though he can tell, because my arms are abruptly freed from their restraints as he ruts shallowly into my body, just barely enough for me to feel everything sloshing around inside but not so much that he'll kill me. He's allowing me the final mercy of masturbating to my own death, but not for my pleasure - solely because he enjoys being served in such a way that his sacrifices take honor and delight in suffering beneath him.

I gladly take him up on his generous offer, managing a final, bloody orgasm as he pulverizes my insides into a horrible mulch that barely resembles the human body it once was. My final sensations are agony, ecstasy, and the taste of blood and cum spewing from my mouth as he finally destroys my heart with his cock, lodging himself right up at the base of my neck to watch his final work on me take the ultimate toll.

Then, of course, no pulse, and I'm just a warm corpse.

My obliterated body is still of great use to him, of course. He simply allows the magical restraints to latch back into place so that my limbs hold me together while he ruts into my already-messy form, taking great satisfaction in watching blood and the remains of organs spill from my mouth with the force of so much cum flooding my insides. The sight makes him cum again, further rinsing my system of anything that once allowed me to stay alive. Most of his seed spills out of my face, of course, but some remains inside, contained in my chest cavity where it mixes with everything else there.

He pulls out to survey his work. There's no way to tell what was once supposed to be a hole and what he simply turned into a hole for his use, and that's just the way he likes it. He thrusts back in, still rock-hard, and angles up slightly to study the way his cock so easily stretches the skin of my belly; then, it pops open around him, and more viscera coats him as he thrusts in and out, coating my upper body in a wet bloody mess, evidence of pleasure and pain both, something that was once thinking and feeling but that now only exists for his use and his pleasure.

Today, his tastes lie in a final act of humiliation. He cums a third time, careless as to where the result lands, and pulls out of my body; then, he slides his body up enough to bathe his balls in the remains of his sacrifice, warm blood and seed and the remains of life. He snarls deeply, his cock twitching as he rests in the abdominal cavity of a sacrifice he emptied.

He's already thinking about how he can make the next one worse. Maybe he should humiliate it before he kills it? Would that hurt more, or make it pleasure itself? That probably depends on the individual, he supposes.

Whatever makes the stupid things serve him more obediently.

#Originally posted April 6th 2023 #asks #anonymous #my writing #nsft text #patreon.com/septimusmoonlight #death tw #gore tw #n£cro #snvff #dragons #size difference #pain #torture #all the way through #blood

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Note

I saw your request page and what about Angel & #20 & #6

Hey! It's one prompt per request, so as I'm feeling extra fluffy today, I'm choosing 20!

"You never tell me, Angel!" You scream, angry, hurt tears tumbling from your eyes. "You never tell me that you love me, so how the fuck am I supposed to know!"

He holds his arms wide before letting them fall, hands clapping against his strong, denim-clad thighs. "You know, though. C'mon, querida! You have to know!"

His actions have always spoken much louder than his words, his emotional depth and breadth always a little succinct when it comes to verbalising it. You know why, too. Love had ended in his hurt too many times in the past, so he's a little guarded, somewhat jaded. He knows speaking those words will make it all the more real, you and him, and you know why he's holding back.

"You don't have to be scared, Angel! I'm not going anywhere, and you can't chase me away either, or ruin it! You might try, fuck, you probably will, actually, but I'm not about to leave!"

He frowns, lifting his chin, scoffing at your words. "You really think that's what I'm gonna do? And I ain't scared of this either, by the way."

Immediately, you snort with incredulity. "Could have fooled me!" You take a breath, closing the space between you both where you've been yelling at one another from opposing sides of his lounge. "You have to tell me. You know I'm walking into this with hurt too. I need to hear it, or in my mind, I'm just some other girl in the long list to try and fail with Angel Reyes. If you really loved me, you'd know it's something I need to hear."

Something in him snaps then, but not out of anger. He sees it in you, the same vulnerability he carries in himself, except you're different. You're brave enough to speak it, and him? He tries to run from it, all of the time, from woman to woman. Taking the last few steps in order to reach you, he grasps your face in his hands, kissing you.

“I love you, alright? I fucking love you, there, I’ve said it.” Another kiss, as your heart somersaults, before he speaks again. "You wanna know how much?"

"Tell me."

"Alright." He rests his forehead against yours, and then recites words so deeply profound, you know you'll never, ever forget them. "I love you so much, that the mountains will crash into the sea, the sun will burn itself out of the sky, and the world will stop turning completely, before I ever, ever stop."

You sob with emotion, your lips pressing to his again as you hold one another tightly, Angel lifting you into his arms, your legs winding around him. "And now I'm gonna take you to bed, and show you how much."

#angel reyes #angel reyes x female reader #angel reyes fanficiton #angel reyes drabble #mayans mc #mayans mc drabble #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc fanfic #ddd drabble requests

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talltalesbyjay · 1 year

Text

Oh My Hero! Hang on!

A Brief Battle?

Before we get into it, I hope you all enjoy this story as it's a little different for me. I originally intended for this to be a one-and-done type of story but some feedback has made me consider to continue with this story. Let me know your thoughts!

Also, please don't forget to read the background post of this story if you're not familiar with the anime!! It's the post right before this one .

thank you for reading!

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Shouto, Katsuki, & Izuku all ended up working near each other after graduating UA 3 years ago. All heroes in their own right, they gained a lot of popularity for their own actions, not because of their mentors or families.

They would train together frequently as well as patrol together from time to time. Their sidekicks and other heroes in the area always took charge when the three of them met up for training or for anything really, and today was one of those days.

You could hear the grunts, moans, blasts, and occasional screams of Katsuki expel from the training facility, fans crowding the facility hoping to catch a glimpse of the three in action.

“Kacchan over here,” Izuku said as Katsuki threw a water bottle at Shouto.

“Yeah, yeah”. Katsuki threw Izuku a water before sitting down with his legs splayed out & his arms holding him up from behind.

Their two hour training session had just ended, all three exhausted with sweat covering their training shirts… making them stick to each of their muscled arms, ripped abs, and firm pecs.

Izuku tried not to look at Katsuki as his body looked much hotter covered in sweat. Izuku has had a crush on Katsuki for years now, but it wasn’t till the last year at UA that Izuku began yearning for Katsuki’s body (probably because that’s when Izuku hit puberty… late bloomer). It wasn’t helping that Katsuki was wearing mid-thigh shorts, exposing his delicious meaty thighs.

“Whatcha looking at Deku!” Katsuki said as he drank another bottle of water.

“No- Nothing Kacchan. Just dazed out for a bit”.

Katsuki huffed as he stood up and paced around the guys. He knew training was important and as much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed his time spent with Shouto and Izuku… but he enjoyed being a hero even more. He enjoyed kicking ass and beating the villains until they started begging for mercy, it was actually what he was known for in the area.

“Want to go get some soba noodles before going back to patrol” Shouto asked the guys (mainly Izuku since he was the easiest to convince).

“Yeah that sounds…” Izuku began to get quieter, “good…”.

Katsuki lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat falling onto his eyebrows, exposing his sweaty abs & his red underwear waistband in the process.

Shouto followed Izuku’s stare and as soon as he realized where Izuku was staring, he quickly looked away. Shouto knew Izuku and Katsuki had history that went way back before he even met them, and all throughout their time at UA, he could sense some sort of magnetic tension between them. One that he wished he had with Izuku; he’s had a crush on Izuku since he met him at UA but never acted on it due to the tension he felt between the two friends.

“Izuku” Shouto quietly said as he saw Katsuki begin to lower his shirt.

“Uh… yeahsobanoodlessoundgreatwhatdoyouthinkKacchan” Izuku said, practically slurring his speech, feeling his face burning up as he knew Shouto caught him staring at Katsuki.

Shouto laughed at Izuku’s cute expression; watching him get flustered was a common occurrence, one Shouto always looked forward to… ~Why can’t he look at me that way~ Shouto thought to himself as Izuku darted his eyes from Katsuki to his shuffling feet.

“Yeah that’s fine… just as long as I can get them spicy”, Katsuki said, putting all his gear in his gym bag.

“Perfect then let’s-“

There was a loud bang. The entire gym shook from the vibration, causing all three heroes to stand up and immediately run outside.

The crowd of fans waiting for them had begun to disperse, running away from where the smoke was in the distance. The street shook, car alarms blared from all over, screams heard from the people running in front of them.

“The smoke seems like 10 miles east,” Izuku said, calculating how quickly he could get there.

“Our sidekicks are there but are overwhelmed. The villain came prepared with backup” Katsuki spoke with his team over his earpiece, trying to get real-time information before heading over.

“Seems to be in my jurisdiction,” Shouto said, his fists tightening, causing ice and fire to engulf them. “Okay, Izuku you’re the fastest here. I need you to get to a high vantage point and tell us what you see. We have people on the ground so they are our eyes and ears but I need you to see of any weakness or place to attack.”

“Yes, I’ll be quick,” Izuku said as he flashed away, leaving a trail of blue lightning behind.

“Katsuki, I need you to-“

“I know what to do. You do your thing, I'll do mine”, Katsuki said before blasting off.

Shouto spoke to his sidekick on his earpiece as he created an ice platform and shot himself forward. He could hear the screaming and the crashes from the fight in the back, his sidekick sounding out of breath as he gave Shouto information.

Izuku arrived first. Standing on top of a surrounding building, he was able to see the villain, one he’s never met before, standing in front of the art installation that was on display in the middle of the bustling town. His goons, all covered in what appeared to be glass, circled around him fighting off the sidekick and police force that arrived on scene.

“Shouto and Kacchan. He appears to have about 50 goons, overwhelming the police force and the sidekicks. He’s in front of the art installation and both he and his goons are all covered in glass or mirror shards I believe. There’s no way to sneak an attack. His goons have him surrounded”

“What about from above?” Katsuki said as he blasted through the air.

“It’s possible but too exposed Kacchan. Since we don’t have our gear, we’re already at a disadvantage”, Izuku said, remembering that Katsuki was wearing mid-thigh shorts.

They were all in such a rush none of them were able to change back into their costumes at the gym. Apart from Katsuki wearing shorts, both Izuku & Shouto were wearing joggers and all three were wearing tank tops, exposing their arms.

Katsuki blasted himself onto the roof with Izuku. As he landed, he noticed Izuku’s joggers pulled down mid ass, revealing a gold waistband with what appeared to be All Might written in the waistband, connected to blue underwear. Katsuki let out a laugh.

“Hey nerd! Pull your pants up. I don’t need to see your All Might panties before a fight”

Izuku immediately grew red, scrambling to pull his joggers up. “I- I- I didn’t know, they must’ve been pulled down by the wind as I ran over here”.

Izuku felt his dick pulse hearing Katsuki talk about his briefs. Katsuki’s laughter made him grow more flustered and embarrassed, but weirdly enough, he didn’t want Katsuki to stop.

Shouto slid onto the building, the snow platform slowly dissolving in the summer sun. Katsuki immediately stopped laughing & Izuku tried his best to hide his flushed face. Shouto looked down and saw for himself what the situation looked like.

“We need to find a way to stop this as quickly as possible to limit the amount of damage,” Shouto said, glancing down at the destroyed square.

The three of them in the quickest they could, came up with a game plan to stop this villain and after relaying the plan to their sidekicks and the police, they set it in motion.

Izuku and Shouto both jumped off the building at opposite sides to surround the area. Katsuki gave them some time to get to their positions and once they did, he jumped off the building, free-falling right on top of where the villain stood. As he got close and saw the villain look up, he blasted him. But as the blast cleared, the villain still stood, sneering at Katsuki before unleashing a blast similar to Katsuki’s, sending him flying toward a surrounding building, near where Izuku was hiding.

Shouto moved, seeing his opening as the villain looked toward Katsuki. Shouto shot an ice beam and managed to knock the villain off of the platform toward the floor. This gave Katsuki the chance to get on his feet and blast through some of the goons in the area.

The sidekicks were relieved that the heroes came, cheering at the sight of Shouto knocking down the villain. The goons were being quickly demolished by the group, with Izuku trying his best to knock out the goons without being spotted; they were saving Izuku in case the villain proved too much and a surprise attack would be the best tactic.

As Shouto ran to where the villain fell, the goons surrounded him, the mirrors they had on reflecting light towards his eyes, blinding him from seeing the villain stand up.

“Finally,” the villain said as he stood up from where he fell, shards of mirror falling off of him, and new ones appearing in their place.

“The real challenge has arrived,” he said as light reflected off of him and onto the mirrors of his goons, causing them to run out of the town square park and onto the streets where civilians were crowding.

“Everyone, we got this, you all head over and help the civilians” Shouto ordered all their sidekicks & members from their teams. They all nodded and headed out to stop the goons from hurting civilians.

“You are too complacent,” the villain said as he stood and blasted out a stronger light from his mirrors and it arose the fallen goons from the ground and they ran out to join the rest of the goons.

Katsuki blasted himself toward the goons but was flung back by a beam of light. He crashed against the wall near Izuku and as he fell to the ground, his tank top got caught on some rubble and ripped right off of him, his sweaty pecs bouncing as he hit the floor.

Izuku watched with twisted lust as Katsuki's shirt ripped off and revealed his muscular body, his red waistband peeking out of his shorts, revealing some green fabric of his underwear. He wanted to reach out to help Katsuki, an excuse to touch his sweaty torso but remembered to stay hidden and could only watch as Katsuki’s body gleamed in front of him.

“You heroes are too comfortable in your positions of power. You act like saviors when you are all still children.” The villain said as he stepped on floating shards of glass that appeared in front of him. “The old generation of heroes is over. And you are not worthy of stepping into their place. Stay in their shadows where you belong”.

“Why are you doing this if your anger is to us, not to the city nor their civilians”, Shouto said as he shot a fire blast at the villain.

He dodged the blast, his floating shard moving to where the light took it. “To show these people that you are not worthy to save them. You cannot. They need to stop relying on children and start relying on themselves”, the villain said as he released multiple mirror shards and shot them toward Shouto. He tried to dodge and burn the shards, being mostly successful. The ones he missed hit his tank top and joggers, cutting small holes into them, with one ripping the tank top strap, exposing his right pec.

“We’re not children”

Izuku wanted to stand up and fight. He hated hiding. His body surrounded itself with his green lightning but before he could do anything, Katsuki gestured for him to hide as he ran up toward the villain, allowing Izuku to see his meaty thighs bunch up the shorts fabric from behind, exposing more of Katsuki’s legs.

~It was like he was showing off working without his costume~ Izuku thought, blushing at the sight before refocusing on the matter at hand “focus. Don’t think of Kacchan” he said to himself.

Katsuki joined Shouto, beaming with anger as the villain smirked. “Why don’t you come join us and fight us face to face, prick!” Katsuki said, his hands steaming from his blast beginning to form.

“You can call me Ref” he said as he lowered himself closer to the guys, “but even up close you could never beat me”

As he got closer to Katsuki, Shouto jumped back as Katsuki released a blast exploding with a thunderous boom and shattering windows from the surrounding buildings. As the smoke cleared, Katsuki’s smile quickly vanished as Ref still stood in front of him and smiled back.

“As I said, children”, Ref said as he touched Katsuki, sending him flying back into Shouto and landing on the ground.

Izuku couldn’t wait anymore and rushed Ref, ready to release Detroit Smash before getting flung back by an explosion resembling Katsuki’s, only weaker.

“You thought I didn’t know you were there?”, Ref said laughing, “you need to understand the art of battle before engaging in it”.

Izuku hit the floor and rolled against the building, his joggers getting caught on a piece of rubble and pulled down, revealing his All Might themed briefs. Izuku didn’t realize it at first but as he sat up and felt the cold air on his thighs, he looked down and saw All Might's face smiling right back at him from his own crotch; he quickly pulled on his joggers, stretching them out a little, but he was able to cover up before anyone saw his briefs… or so he hoped. The red crotch with All Might’s face on it and the rest of the blue briefs with gold stitching was something he didn’t want his friends nor Ref to see.

As Ref threw Izuku he looked toward the opening of the park and saw the sidekicks coming back. His beams of light shot toward them and into the fallen goons, raising them up again. As the sidekicks got ambushed by the goons once more, Ref used his beams of light to push rubble against the opening and blocked it so his time with the three heroes wouldn’t be bothered.

“Who are you”, Izuku said as he tightened the waistband of his joggers, standing up from the rubble.

“Finally a question worth answering”, Ref said as he flung more shards toward Shouto and Katsuki as they attempted to get up.

“I am Ref, and I don’t consider myself a villain nor evil. I haven’t hurt anyone other than you heroes. The people that got hurt were because of their own cowardice and selfishness of safety that they don’t care for others.” Ref jumped off his shard and onto the ground as he walked toward Izuku.

“What I am here to do is to make sure that these people know that heroes are NOT and should NOT be saviors. We are in charge of our own lives and should be able to defend them when we can”, Ref said as he stood face-to-face with Izuku (well looking down at him). “And as you heroes have gotten so comfortable with your spots in the light, I want to show these people that you all are not the heroes they need. If anything you are but sad fill-ins for the ones who were before”.

Izuku managed to release his Detroit smash, but Ref stayed in place as Izuku flew backward and again crashed into the building.

“People depend too much on you so-called heroes they can’t think for themselves. Now that the ones who made them this way have all gone, these people’s idea of heroes needs to be eliminated for a self-sufficient world”. Ref stood on a shard of mirror and it pulled him up.

Shouto shot a combination ice & fire blast at Ref which he attempted to block but it seems like he was affected by the fire as it shot him into the building above Izuku.

“Okay so it seems our attacks are ineffective or do mild damage to him, with the exception of my fire,” Shouto said as Izuku and Katsuki grouped around him.

“It seems it's something to do with the mirrors he has around him. It’s like they’re absorbing the brunt of the attack”, Izuku followed up, trying not to stare at Katsuki’s torn shorts, showing off his toned thighs and confirming to Izuku that Katsuki was wearing something skimpy underneath those shorts. Wait. What was he thinking? Izuku tried to shake that image away from his head, as he felt his dick pulse in his All Might briefs.

“So I’ll distract him with Deku while you aim at him,” Katsuki said, scratching his upper thigh, moving apart his torn shorts, showing off even more thigh to Izuku, who couldn’t keep his eyes from darting to the area.

As they planned, shards of mirror shot towards them, causing Shouto to shoot up an ice shield to block most shards from hitting him, while the other two jumped to opposite sides.

Ref emerged from the building and Shouto shot an ice beam at him, but as it hit Ref, Izuku saw one mirror shard absorb the attack and another release it back to Shouto.

“It’s a reflection! His quirk reflects attacks” Izuku yelled as the ice beam hit Shouto as he attempted to dodge. It didn’t do too much damage other than freeze his joggers (since he wasn’t wearing his fire and ice-resistant costume).

Shouto looked down and saw the ice covering his joggers, the extra weight of the ice starting to pull them down, a white waistband coming into view. Ref shot another barrage of shards and as Shouto jumped, he felt the joggers crack under the ice, the fabric easily thinning under the cold. Shouto looked down and the joggers fell even more, his whole waistband was showing, along with the white fabric of the tighty whities.

“Wrong day to wear these” he muttered to himself as he tried to pull his joggers up but he heard them start cracking. Before it could get worse, Shouto attempted to melt the ice with some fire but Ref shot out more shards around him, causing Shouto to counter with an ice beam, which Ref shot back at him. Shouto jumped out of the way but felt the blast hit his right leg. The blast, combined with the sudden movement, shattered the ice-frozen joggers, breaking in pieces as it hit the floor, leaving Shouto standing in his tighty whities.

Shouto didn’t realize his pants broke off right away. He went on and kept fighting Ref, trying to think of a way to hit him again. “Katsuki, Izuku, distract him with an over and under”, Shouto said as he immediately shot out a fire blast toward Ref. Both heroes turned to nod at Shouto and as they did, they immediately had to take a second look. The white of Shouto’s tighty whities was almost as reflective as the mirrors surrounding Ref so there was no way they could’ve missed it.

After performing the over and under, Katsuki and Izuku tried not to acknowledge Shouto’s mishap as they were still in the middle of a fight with no end seeming near, but lust took over Izuku and he couldn’t help but stare in embarrassment at Shouto, never imagining that he would ever see Shouto in his underwear, let alone skimpy ones at that.

Katsuki tried, and he really did, to not look or mention anything about pantless Shouto, but as he glanced over one last time, his delight got the best of him and he started howling with laughter.

Shouto stared puzzled at the guys, confused why they were looking his way, with Katsuki laughing out of all things. Shouto turned around to see if there was anyone behind him, and when he saw nothing he looked back, catching a glimpse of Izuku mouthing the word COVER before getting hit by some more shards.

“Cover” Shouto said to himself as he created an ice shield. As he did, he felt the very slight chill of the ice engulf his legs and in confusion, he looked down and saw his crisp, clean tighty whities shining on him, his bulge in clear view for everyone watching.

“Fucking shit”. He immediately tried to cover his bulge, but soon realized that it wouldn’t be possible as Ref shot more shards at him, breaking his ice shield and as more came his way, he had to jump to avoid them, toward Katsuki, and shot a fire blast back.

“What’s with the tighty whities”, Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh as he asked, eyeing Shouto’s body,“Couldn’t grow out of them?” Katsuki kept laughing, as he slapped Shouto’s ass.

“I- uh, laundry day” Shouto said, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he was wearing some whities, even though he knew he wore them because he liked the feel of briefs on him… it was just unfortunate that he was wearing tighty whities today instead of his black briefs.

Katsuki laughed at his response, feeling a need to continue to embarrass him. Katsuki walked closer to Shouto and as he looked down at Shouto’s ass, with the briefs hugging Shouto tight, Katsuki noticed the name, Shouto Todoroki, written in black ink across the waistband above his ass.

“Y-You” Katsuki needed to brace himself from laughing so hard, “You write your name on your TIGHTY WHITIES!” Katsuki struggled to say in between his laughter, “And I thought Deku was the nerd here”. Katsuki held his stomach as he continued to laugh.

Shouto immediately turned to face Katsuki, trying to hide the waistband. -shit shit shit- Shouto thought to himself, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. “I, uh, ha- haven’t w- w- worn these si- since -”

Katsuki couldn’t help it as he saw Shouto standing so close to him, his pale face growing redder as the seconds went by, his stuttering mixed with the way his knees were buckled together, Shouto’s small bulge enticing Katsuki even more. Katsuki interrupted Shouto by pushing up to him, reaching behind, and giving Shouto a wedgie.

Shouto eyes enlarged right before letting out a moan in pain as Katuski laughed in his ear, feeling the fabric of his tighty whities bunch up his ass.

Katsuki would’ve kept going but he saw Izuku get flung to the ground by Ref so he let go of the waistband and swung his arms down to slap both of Shuoto’s exposed cheeks before pushing past him to take some hits at Ref.

Shouto stood still, in complete shock; he never felt this much humiliation in his life and he hoped to never feel this again. He quickly fished out the wedgie Katsuki gave him and adjusted his bulge. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice this feeling he felt as Katsuki slapped his ass, it was a weird feeling, one he’s never felt before, but before he could continue doting on what happened, Ref threw Katsuki off and turned to look at him.

“Seems like you’re not dressed for a battle,” Ref said, unable to hide his amusement at Shouto’s situation. “I wonder what the public would say if they saw their hero fighting in his tighty whities”, Ref dragging on the last two words, emphasizing Shouto’s situation.

“Th- They would say that I will do my job no matter the circumstances,” Shouto said, trying to sound as confident as possible, but in reality, he was drowning in humiliation and wishing to disappear. He hoped that no one else would see him in his tighty whities, no news crews, the public, and especially not his sidekicks, because that would be career suicide.

Izuku couldn’t help but stare at Shouto and that bulge of his, small, but still bouncing as he moved on the battlefield. Whenever he would turn, Izuku would catch a glimpse of Shouto’s perfect ass, wishing he could spend time just watching him. Izuku’s dick pulsed in his briefs, he could feel a wet patch form around his bulge, making him more frustrated that he couldn’t enjoy the moment.

“Snap out of it Deku” Katsuki said, a twinge of jealousy coating those words. “We need to get Shouto out of here before he shows off more”.

Izuku grew red as he started imagining Shouto losing his tighty whities too, watching Shouto’s bulge jiggle with every jump, imagining seeing it jiggle without the tighty whities to cover… Izuku’s wet bulge pressed hard against his pants, his All-might briefs feeling stretched to their capacity. “Ye- yeah”

Shouto was knocked against a building wall as he tried to evade Refs light beams. Ref took an interest in him after Shouto lost his pants, using shard blasts to keep the others back.

Shouto got up and shot a fire blast towards Ref, but Ref used a stored blast from Katsuki to deflect it. Ref countered with a light blast, but Shouto immediately used an ice platform to help him dodge the attack and move more freely around the area. Shouto caught a glimpse of Katsuki and Izuku talking, Izuku focusing his stare on Shouto, causing him to start blushing as he dodged more of Refs attacks.

As Shouto saw the two begin to close in behind Ref, he tried getting to higher ground, distracting Ref from the ground, allowing Izuku and Katsuki to execute whatever they were talking about earlier. As Shouto shot up, Ref used one of Katsuki’s stored blasts, breaking the ice platform Shouto was on and sending Shouto flying against a building. As Shouto hit the wall, he attempted to grab onto something but Ref shot another light beam Shouto’s way, pressing his body flat against the broken wall, Shouto’s head crashed onto some rubble, immediately causing him to lose consciousness.

Ref attempted to hit him again, but Izuku attacked Ref from behind, causing Ref to turn his back on Shouto and focus on Katsuki and Izuku.

As the two fought Ref, Shouto’s limp body fell from where he crashed onto the building, about the 26th floor. The guys didn’t see Shouto free falling as they were too busy fighting Ref but around the 14th floor, Shouo came to an abrupt stop as a piece of metal sticking out from one of the buildings caught Shouto’s tighty whities waistband and stretched them out in a wedgie, keeping him hanging. His red and white hair fell over his face as his body slightly swayed in the wind, Shouto fully on display for Ref and his two friends.

After dodging an attack from Ref, Katsuki searched the area for Shouto since he went radio silent. As Katsuki looked to where he saw Shouto last, he was greeted by Shouto and the hanging wedgie that held him, his small bulge looking smaller than it was as it was being squeezed tightly. Katuski couldn’t help himself and let out a thunderous laugh.

“Where’s a camera when I need one,” Katsuki said as he tried to breathe in between his laughter, his face turning red from the joy he was feeling seeing his friend in such a humiliating and compromising situation.

Izuku dodged Ref after a failed attack and when he did, he looked at where a hysterical Katsuki was pointing and his jaw dropped. Seeing Shouto hanging from a beam unconscious, in an incredulous wedgie was something he thought he’d never see. Shouto’s unconscious body slowly turned in the wind, showing off his pale ass, the reddening of his pale skin around his asscrack, and how deep the tighty whities were buried in his crack, before turning back and showing off his small bulge being squeezed flat against his body. Izuku couldn't help but stagger his breathing and unconsciously grab his bulge, feeling the pleasure of seeing his friend’s body too intense for him.

Ref noticed the two heroes looking at Shouto, one in amusement and one in lustful embarrassment, and saw his chance. He blasted Katsuki with a stored ice blast from Shouto, freezing his torn shorts, and sent him flying against the statue, breaking it into pieces as Katsuki flew through and onto the floor behind it.

As Katsuki got up, he realized all his clothes shattered with the impact and was left in his red and green Izuku-themed briefs. The waistband and stitching of the briefs were red as the rest was green, perfectly matching Izuku’s green costume. On the ass of the briefs were two black lines, mimicking the ones on Izuku’s costume, and on the crotch, Izuku’s autograph pressed on.

“Fuck” Katsuki said, not knowing what to do. His sculpted pecs and abs, slick with sweat, shimmered against the sunlight, and his defined thighs, peppered with thin blonde hair, were visible to everyone. He especially didn’t want Izuku to see him in briefs that he got specially made to mimic Deku’s costume.

Ref shot a blast toward Izuku, but Izuku was prepared after seeing Katsuki get hit and dodged swiftly, countering with his Detroit smash, sending Ref flying onto the building where Shouto hung.

The impact on the building woke Shouto up, and as he regained consciousness, he immediately felt a heavy pain in his crotch. Shouto blinked rapidly, adjusting his vision, before looking down and being stunned by what he saw. The instant humiliation his body felt, splotches of red covering his face, neck, and chest, seeing his crotch flattened against his body as a hanging wedgie exposed him to Ref, his friends and coworkers Katsuki and Izuku, and if anyone was left in these buildings surrounding, them as well. Shouto quickly created an ice platform that helped him stand to relieve the wedgie, and as he did, he quickly pulled the wedgie out and created an ice pathway to the ground, behind some rubble to adjust himself.

The briefs were stretched beyond repair, and he knew they would fall off quickly if he left them like this. He already felt naked, his bare pale chest and abs fully on display for everyone to see, and his bare legs as well, with only the remnants of the stretched brief to cover up the last two parts that haven��t been exposed, he needed to make sure to keep it that way. So he gathered the stretched fabric and made a knot to his right. It helped keep them up, but he could still feel some looseness to them. He adjusted his bulge as the crotch of the brief was slightly skewed right due to the knot, and as he saw it was the best that he could do, took a deep breath before jumping back in.

Izuku ran toward Katsuki as he saw Shouto getting out of the insanely revealing wedgie from above… he kinda wished Shouto stayed unconscious longer so he would’ve been the one to help him and see his body close up in those taut briefs. But as he got to Katsuki, that thought left his mind in a heartbeat.

“K- Ka- Kacchan! Your, uh, um, clothes” Izuku said, his face burning red, as he saw Katsuki getting up from the ice surrounding him and his briefs in full view. His bulge, easily bigger than Shouto’s, but not huge, jiggled as he stood.

“I don’t want to hear anything about it” Katsuki seethed, feeling blood rush to his face as he felt entirely exposed… to the one person he never thought he would be exposed to.

Izuku looked stunned, his briefs now entirely soaked in precum, his dick hurting pressed against his own briefs, needing to come out. “I, uh, I-“ Izuku couldn’t get a word out as he continued to stare at Katsuki’s bulge and the autograph that was on it.

“What Deku! We all wear underwear so what. Stop staring at me and get back to the battle” Kacchan blasted himself to where Ref landed.

Izuku followed and as he did, he saw Katsuki’s ass filling out the briefs. But as he kept staring he saw two black lines that resembled his costume. ~Why do Kaachan’s briefs seem so familiar~ Izuku thought to himself, a sensation boiling in his bulge as he continued staring at Kaachan’s ass.

Shouto landed next to Katsuki. “Not laughing anymore I see” Shouto looked Katsuki up and down, lingering a little too long on Katsuki’s bulge. He then looked down at his to compare the difference… a small frown appeared on his face.

“Mine are not as embarrassing as yours are. And who was the one who got wedgied, by a BUILDING in their TIGHTY WHITIES?” Kaachan snarled, his face began blushing, while blotches of red formed on his chest from the embarrassment.

“I, uh… at the end of the day, we’re all in our underwear on the battlefield so we’re all even,” Shouto said trying to take the attention off of him, he’s had more than enough today.

“Seems like you’re the lucky one huh Izuku” Shouto said, as he turned back and saw a film of lust coating Izuku’s eyes, a wet patch growing on the crotch of Izuku’s joggers.

“Ye- yeah,” Izuku said, quickly looking away at the rumbling debris in front of them.

Ref climbed the debris in front of him and as he did, you could see the damage Izuku’s attack had on him.

“You all got lucky. I got distracted by your childish mistakes that I let my guard down. But I’ll be back.” Ref said he heard the sidekicks trying to break through the blocked area.

“And don’t think I’ll forget what happened here. Two of you fighting indecently in your underwear, one hanging from a wedgie while the other letting his guard down to laugh at his fellow teammate. You are NOT the heroes you think you are.”

Both Shouto and Katsuki lunged toward Ref, Izuku tried but his mind was lost watching both of his closest friends jump in skimpy and revealing briefs, their ass muscles flexing in unison as they reached Ref.

They both grabbed Ref by his arms, their bulges both jiggling as they held a squirming Ref in place.

Ref smiled. “I’ll be back. And when I do, I’ll show the world who their heroes are, a bunch of man-babies who laugh or lust after each other's tighty whities instead of focusing on the battle”. And before anyone could do anything, there was a flash of bright light that threw Shouto and Katsuki to the sides and when the light vanished, Ref was gone.

Katsuki and Shouto got up and looked around for traces of Ref while Izuku stared at them, bending over in their briefs and watching their bulges jiggle as they walked.

“I don’t think there’s anything left. We should go check if his goons disappeared as well. If they’re still there, we'll have some lead on his whereabouts” Izuku said, turning away from his friends, he couldn’t focus while looking at them.

“Yeah you’re right,” Shouto said, as he and Katsuki started walking with Izuku toward where Ref blocked the entry with rubble.

“Uhhhhh, wou- would you g-g-guys want to try to find clothes first” Izuku stuttered, turning around to see both of their exposed briefs, Shouto’s smaller bulge jiggling to a stop while Katsuki’s slightly larger one still jiggling.

Izuku looked down at Katsuki’s briefs, swearing he’s seen that color combination before, and Katsuki looked down at Shouto’s tighty whities, stifling a laugh at the severely stretched out but tightened by the knot, quite sexy to look at if you think about it. They both grew red again and agreed as they turned back and ran into one of the damaged buildings to see if they could find some clothes to cover up… at least some pants.

As they did, Izuku was left to help the sidekicks and police enter the area, his bulge slowly shrinking, with that wet spot completely visible to whoever looked down at his joggers.

#simp4briefs #cmnm #embarrassed men #exposedguy #male humiliation #men in tighty whitey #smut #accidental exposure #gayerotica #hanging on #jays18stories

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starstruckkittensweets · 1 year

Text

Chapter LX (“AWWW”)

A/N: So...I’m back, for now! Hello again everybody, I am so sorry for dropping this story out of the blue last year. A combination of work, writer’s block, and some family/personal issues made it kinda tough to sit down and focus on this story. I apologize if this chapter is a little choppy, I used it as an inspiration to crawl back out of my writer’s block, and writing it was a little therapeutic for me. It’s a slow chapter and a bit on the shorter side, but I think it’s a bit of a breather before we get into the last stretch of this story. Speaking of, I probably won’t update again until I have a majority of the remaining chapters written. It shouldn’t be too hard, I already have them planned and outlined, and now all I have to do is write them out.

As always, thank you so very much for sticking with me throughout this long and drawn-out process. I really appreciate each and every one of you, it’s because of your constant support that I’ve gotten this far in this story to begin with. So thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: Levi x Mia (OC) Words: 5.8k

Warnings: suggestive dialogue, mentions of pregnancy and raising children, mostly fluff all around but Mia is hopeful for having children one day

Taglist: @omg-lexiloveyou, @tootiredforyourshit3963, @super-peace-fangirl, @mr-robot-x, @unusversuscanicula, @cyborgnate, @saltypancakes

|LX|

The summer sun was warm against my skin. A soft glow shining through the curtains, bleeding through the sheets around us. I stretched my arm along Levi’s bare chest, eliciting the smallest of hums from his throat. I couldn’t help but smile as he tightened his arms around me, as I buried my face against the crook of his neck.

Morning already? It feels as though I barely got enough sleep…

Still, it was early enough for us to laze around a bit. Neither of us had anywhere to be until later this afternoon, anyway. Maybe we could afford to sleep in, just this once.

Every part of my body felt sore; the muscles in my thighs were still burning from exhaustion, my throat was a little scratchy from screaming his name last night. By the way you were screaming Wolf, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole castle heard you. My face grew warm at the thought, and that’s when Levi shifted himself to smirk at me.

“What is it?” His voice was still raspy from sleep, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Nothing. Just admiring my handsome captain, like I do every morning.”

He didn’t roll his eyes or scoff like I expected him to, just like he’d done every other time I’d called him the h-word. Instead he slid his fingers across my forehead, brushing a few strands of hair from my face, before thumbing the little white scar across my cheek. I hummed as he cradled my face in his hands, lips fluttering over the top of my head.

Of course, his one rule in bed: No kissing before brushing our teeth.

But the bed was so warm, and his arms were so comfortable, that the mere thought of getting out and leaving him was enough to make me grimace. So I snuggled in as close as I could, pressing my face to the planes of his chest and kissing the skin below.

“Someone’s clingy today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I retorted, but my voice was muffled by his chest. “You can’t stand it when I get out of bed before you.”

“Oh, is that why you won’t let me leave?”

As if to test his little theory, he began to inch closer to the edge of the bed, sliding his leg from out of the covers and towards the floor. But I was quick to snatch him back, hooking my leg around his own and keeping him pinned to the bed below.

“Tch, come on, you little shit.” But there was no malice in his tone as he carded his fingers through my messy hair. “I have to piss. And clean up. You should do the same, too.”

“But you’re so warm…”

He groaned again, flopping back down against the pillows. I crawled up the length of his body and held myself over his chest, with my elbow propped up against the side of his head.

“Just a few more minutes, captain.” His jaw tightened as I slid my finger across his collarbone, down his chest and over his abdomen. “You’re too warm and comfortable to let go of just yet.”

“…A few more minutes. But that’s it.”

Of course. I pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling into my usual place, with my head tucked beneath his chin and my palm pressed against his heart.

Already I could start to feel myself dozing off again. It was all so surreal to me—the gentle hum of his breaths, the warmth of his sun-kissed skin against mine, and the soft tug of his fingers in my hair, lazily twisting the strands at my nape. Suddenly I didn’t feel like a soldier of the Survey Corps; soldiers never felt peaceful like this for too long.

Every morning could be like this, after this war is over.

That little voice in the back of my head was already hard at work, whispering forbidden dreams and promises in my ear. I could only press my face against his chest, as the thoughts began to run rampant within my mind.

Imagine waking up next to him like this for the rest of your life, but in a different house. Maybe one somewhere deep in the forests beyond the Walls, away from the rest of the world. Maybe we’ll live in a cottage by a lake or a river, one we’ve built together with our own hands. Maybe we’ll have a barn as well, to keep a few horses close by. And maybe when I wake up one of these mornings, I’ll find Levi’s fingers splayed across my stomach, protecting the child growing inside of me. Our child.

The thought of children made my throat close up. Fuck. I forgot I’d mentioned them to him last night…

Neither of us were ready for that conversation, maybe not for a good few years. We were still soldiers, sworn to protect the remnants of humanity from the Titans, even at the cost of our lives. We couldn’t set aside our duties for a couple of children for ten years at least, or maybe even more. And I refused to give them off to a wet nurse or another couple to raise in our stead. If Levi and I were ever going to have children of our own, we would raise them ourselves, not let another person take over. I couldn’t even bear the thought of handing my child, either a boy like Levi or a girl like myself, over to a stranger I didn’t even know.

It was best to just wait until the Titans were eradicated altogether. Then we could settle in that silly little cottage in the forest. Then we could discuss the topic of children freely. But for now, it was a possibility neither of us dared to speak out loud.

“What is it?”

I brushed my fingers along his collarbone once more. “What’s what?”

“You know what I mean.” Levi groaned as he shifted himself against the pillows; I nearly laughed when I realized the spare pillow was still propped up against what remained of the poor headboard. “What’s bothering you? And don’t say it’s nothing…because I’ll know you’re lying.”

He held me firm against his body, with my chin propped up on his chest and his palms against my shoulders. I sighed, wondering if it was worth it to come clean to him now and bring up my thoughts about our future children—if we even end up having any to begin with.

But I couldn’t get the words out. They were lodged in the back of my throat, keeping me from breathing, from telling him just how I really felt about all of this. They were right there on the tip of my tongue, and yet I couldn’t say them out loud no matter how hard I tried.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to retire from the Scouts when this war is over. I want us to get married, to move to a little house far away from everyone else. I want us to have children, as many as we can possibly have. A son, a daughter, whatever you want—it doesn’t matter to me. And maybe we’ll have that tea shop you told me about once, maybe in one of the outer districts close to home. I want us to stay by each other’s sides until the day we take our last breaths, with graying hair and wrinkled skin and our many grandchildren playing at our knees.

But…how could I tell him all of this without scaring him away? If there was one thing I knew about Levi, it was that he liked to take things slowly, to allow himself to adapt and adjust. I couldn’t just dump all of that on him without any warning whatsoever.

Still, I had to say something to him. So I cleared my throat and touched his cheek, tracing down to his jawline as softly as I could.

“…I just wish every day could be like this.”

Soft, quiet, gentle—absolute bliss.

His only answer was a light squeeze against my shoulders—and I had no time to think before he pulled me in close, slotting his lips against my own. Morning breath be damned, I still loved the taste of his mouth.

“I thought you didn’t like kissing first thing in the morning.”

I snickered as he rolled his eyes, before pushing me off his chest and rolling onto his stomach on the bed. His arms curled around the pillows, the sun’s rays spilling across his back. The scratches I’d left last night were still there, pink and tender, stretching along the length of his shoulders. I leaned down to press a few kisses along each one, smirking as I felt him shiver beneath my mouth.

When I was done, I lowered myself across his back and curled a few strands of black hair behind his ear. It was strange, seeing him with messy morning hair, but I loved it all the same.

“Can we sleep in, just for a little bit?” He groaned into the pillow as I pressed my lips to the shell of his ear. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you tonight…”

“With what?” He shifted his head to the side, giving me a half-hearted smirk against the fabric of the pillow. “More scratches on my back with those claws of yours?”

“Well, I could, if you want me to… But I’ll clean them up again, as many times as you want.” Just for good measure, I pressed another line of kisses down the most prominent scratch on his left shoulder—a long red line that burned brighter than all the others.

Neither of us spoke for a while after that, and for a moment I wondered if he was actually going to give into my plea of sleeping in. But then he was pushing himself off the mattress, palms digging into the pillows below. I flopped down on my back at his side, staring up at him as he stretched out his arms and rolled his shoulders back and forth.

“Let me piss first, at least. And I suggest you do the same.”

It was hard not to smile as I watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open just a little bit. I yawned and curled my arm behind my head, staring up at the ceiling above. With the effects of sleep still lingering, and the warmth of Levi’s touch still against my skin, I closed my eyes and let my mind begin to wander.

Once this war was over, we’d be able to have all the lazy mornings we wanted. Just the two of us, in our little house in the heart of the forest. There was a Forest of Giant Trees just outside Shiganshina’s outer gates, and once we took back Wall Maria maybe we could settle there—that is, unless they didn’t turn it into a tourist attraction like they did with the ones within the Walls.

I thought of the river cutting through the southern half of the Walls, through the center of Shiganshina before leading further into the territory beyond Wall Maria. As far as I knew, none of the Scouts knew where it came to an end. It carried on further and further south, even past the old castle ruins I’d explored on my first expedition beyond the Walls. I remembered staring at it with my mouth agape, watching the water flow south as far as the eye could see, before disappearing into the red horizon. Ever since then, I’d wondered what was at the end of it, and whether or not there were even more rivers in the world beyond our three safe Walls.

Once we win this war, we’ll be able to find out for ourselves. We’ll settle down somewhere, away from everyone else within the Walls; once we start exploring the Walls will surely feel a bit cramped. It’ll just be me and Levi, and our two horses of course, and someday down the line—

Before I knew it, I was pressing my palm to my stomach, splaying my fingers across the scarred skin. And I couldn’t help but frown when all I felt was stillness. Nothing was in there—not yet, at least.

Hold on—what the fuck am I thinking? I groaned into my palms and turned over to lay on my stomach, nails digging into the top of my scalp.

You and Levi aren’t ready for children yet. Hell, you don’t even know if he wants children to begin with! You guys barely talked about it last night, you know. So stop jumping into sad little fantasies of the future.

As much as I hated to say it…the little voice in the back of my mind was right. The thought was nice, something to keep close whenever the future looked bright, but we both knew the truth. Neither of us had time to spare for a child right now. And there was too much at stake right now to start thinking about our retirement from the Scouts, or whether or not we would live together once the Titans were gone. And that alone made my hands begin to tremble.

Sure, we practically lived in each other’s offices at this point, but we were still under the same roof—with roughly a hundred other soldiers living in close proximity with us. Would Levi even be okay with walking away from the base someday to live alone with me? Or did he have other plans to live somewhere else—plans that didn’t include me?

Levi cleared his throat as he finally stepped out of the bathroom, ruffling his messy hair with his fingers. I was quick to slip in after him, catching a whiff of mint from his breath as he leaned in to kiss my forehead. Clean freak already brushed his teeth, huh?

“Make it quick if you want to go back to sleep.” I gasped as he gave my ass a light smack, before making his way towards the messy bed. “I won’t wait forever.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at him. “Just for that, I’m going to take all the time I want in here!”

“Go ahead, but don’t be surprised when you come back to a cold bed, brat.”

I closed the door with a huff, and even through the running water in the bathroom, I could hear him snickering on the other side.

My mind was still racing as I took care of my business, washing up my face and brushing my teeth with the minty toothpaste he kept on the side of the sink. A million questions flooded my mind about the future: what would happen to us, where we would live, the state of the entire Survey Corps, and everything in between. Of course, there was also the possibility we could never end up living together afterwards, even if we wanted to; for all we knew, one of us could end up dying before then.

I shivered and spat out the toothpaste with a grunt. Stop that. Thinking about it will only get you worked up. Focus on what you have right now in front of you, okay?

And right now, I had a handsome captain waiting for me in bed—all alone, and all mine.

He was still there when I opened the door to the bathroom—of course, I knew he would never leave me—and I wasted no time climbing back into bed and throwing the sheets over our bodies. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, pulling him in as close as possible as his arms found their way around my hips.

“So clingy,” he mumbled against my hair.

“…Just sleepy.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie—I was pretty sleepy, and already I could feel my eyelids drooping as I curled into his chest beneath the covers. I made sure to keep my body almost completely still (no kicking my legs or shifting from side to side), so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong with me. We were both too tired to even entertain any ideas of what the future could hold for us. I couldn’t spring this up on him now.

So I kept quiet and snuggled deeper into his chest, the warmth of the sun’s rays and his arms around me lulling me back to sleep.

|~|

When I finally left his room a little over an hour later, the first thing I did was head to the mess hall to check up on my kids. Thankfully they were no longer sleeping on the floor and across the tables, like they had been the night before. Now they were crowded around their usual tables, mumbling to each other over their identical bowls of gruel.

“Never again,” I heard Gretel mutter under her breath, “no more late nights. My head can’t take it…”

I snorted as I gathered my own bowl of gruel from the main counter. If that’s how she’s acting just by staying up late, I’d hate to see what she’s like when she’s hungover. Not that I would ever encourage my cadets to drink (at least, not when they were in my presence, of course).

Which reminded me… I’d have to go check on Mike and Moblit later today. Those two could become insufferable with alcohol in their systems, and while Moblit was usually reserved and had a high tolerance (normally), it was Mike who was the more rambunctious of the two. A bad influence on Moblit, if you ask me.

And sure enough, the two of them were sitting at our usual table, with Nanaba directly across from them. She was rolling her eyes as Mike held his head in his hands, and Moblit leaned too far over the table and smacked his forehead into the book he was currently reading.

“And if you look directly ahead,” she said, smiling as I made my way over to sit next to her, “you’ll see a pair of full-grown men struggling to hold their liquor the morning after. So much for all their big talk, huh?”

“I can handle it just fine, thank you,” Mike groaned into his palms. At least he seems too out of it to tease me about using Levi’s shampoo, like last time. “Those last couple shots killed me, though…”

“Wait…you had even more last night?” My eyes darted back and forth between Mike and Nanaba in between bites of my breakfast. “When was this?”

“After we split up, these two geniuses decided it would be a good idea to break into the whiskey in the cellar and see who could last the longest. And honestly…I’m giving this one to Moblit. Sorry, Mike.”

But neither of them seemed to be interested in the verdict. Moblit was whimpering into the pages of his book, as Mike mumbled a slew of curses under his breath. Poor boys. They would be like this for the rest of the day; I’d seen them both knock back shot after shot together after a particularly successful (and rare) expedition, and they were usually out of it for the next couple days or so. Moblit was always the first to recover, given how much he was already used to drinking during the week. (Working with Hanji every hour of every day could put quite the strain on both your mind and body.) Mike was the one who had to be babied through it all, which gave Nanaba plenty of room for teasing as she took care of him—and despite the occasional complaint, there was no denying both she and Mike loved the extra attention they got from one another.

“On a lighter note,” she continued, turning halfway in her seat to face me, “any plans for later today? Since this one’s going to be out of commission for a while, I’m looking for a new sparring partner.” Mike rolled his eyes at her, only to wince and grip his head once more. “I would ask Lynne or Gelgar, but they’re focusing on their ODM training today. So, you up for it?”

I glanced over at Reggie and Evan, yawning into their hands; at Emily and Murphy, who were dozing off on either side of Eld; and finally at Gretel, and despite putting on a brave face, she was quickly nodding off in her seat above her breakfast.

Looks like Mike isn’t the only one out of commission today. “Sounds like a plan! When do you want to meet up?”

|~|

Once I was finished with a small load of laundry and some extra paperwork lying on my desk, I headed out to meet Nanaba behind the girls’ barracks. By now the sun was at its peak in the sky, beating down hard on the two of us. She met me with a smile, her boots scuffing in the dirt as she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows.

Training with Nanaba was always a mixed bag; I never knew what she would focus on this time around. Sometimes she was stronger, sometimes she was faster. She never did the same thing twice, like myself or Mike did. While I focused on speed and evading attacks, and Mike insisted on pure, unbridled strength in his blows and kicks, Nanaba was always changing it up. It was impressive, how flexible she could be in the field—a good way to keep her opponents guessing, too.

But she was careful about the way she carried herself through our warmups, as well. Never hinting at saving her arm strength for her punches, or slowing down during our laps around the base to conserve her energy. She was someone who put her all into her workouts, and that’s what made her such an exciting partner to train with.

With three laps around the base under our belt, the two of us chose a shady spot at the edge of the meadow to train. The horses were grazing beyond the fences, tails swishing in the breeze, huge noses bumping into each other’s. I could see Ivy and Misty frolicking in the distance, kicking out their legs as though they were foals once more.

I was so enamored with the sight I almost didn’t see Nanaba’s fist aiming for my cheek. I let out a breath as I dodged her attacks, batting her wrists away and slinking to the side when she went for my head.

She’s fighting dirty today. Well, if that’s how she wants to play, then so be it!

Fists pressing into palms, a swift sweep of the leg—in no time the two of us were panting hard, foreheads slick with sweat beneath the cool shade of the trees nearby. She caught my wrist in her hand with a smirk, before tugging me close and bringing her knee up to my stomach. I grit my teeth against the pain, trying my best to break free from her grip, but she only snickered and wrapped her fingers around the collar of my shirt…and suddenly my back was pressed against the dirt, with Nanaba’s knee hovering over my chest.

“…No fair!”

“All’s fair in hand-to-hand combat, my dear.” She shifted herself off of my chest, before plopping down in the dirt beside me. I sat up with a groan, immediately reaching for the pair of canteens resting beside us in the shade. “You’re not as speedy as you usually are—still tuckered out from last night?”

“Fuck off.” I could only hope my blush added to my already-burning face from our workout.

“No, I’m serious.” Her smile was softer as she took a swig of her water, brushing her blond hair away from her forehead. “What’s on your mind?”

And suddenly it was coming back to me, so fast I could barely react: lying side by side with Levi in his bed, drawing lazy circles on his chest, dreaming about a future for the two of us beyond the Walls.

“…Nothing, I’m fine.”

But she was persistent; those bright blue eyes were cutting into my skin, poking, prodding for me to elaborate. Damn it, even without saying anything, she’s still so intimidating.

I wasn’t as close to Nanaba as I was with Hanji, but I still considered her one of my dearest friends. But how often had I actually sat down and talked with her like this? How many conversations did we have without the occasional joke thrown in, or with our fists flying during a training session? Nanaba was never the one I went to when it came to talking about my insecurities, or my dreams and fears of the world around me. It had always been Hanji, and later on Levi. But never Nanaba.

Still, there was a weight on my chest that I couldn’t get rid of, a nagging voice in the back of my head that demanded I talk to someone—and as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t go to either Levi or Hanji this time.

“Come on,” she was leaning against the tree now, her legs crossed at the ankles, “spill already.”

I took another drink from my canteen, fingers trembling against my knees.

“…Do you have any plans…once this is over?”

“Once what is over?”

“You know…this?”

It wasn’t until I gestured to the base around us, to the soldiers training among the trees and the horses grazing in the fields that she seemed to understand. The soles of her boots dug into the dirt, her pointer finger tapping rapidly against the crook of her elbow. I clung to the canteen at my chest, waiting for her to speak.

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it.” She shook her head with a smile, which did little to quell the feeling in my chest. “Maybe I’ll tag along with Mike, if he goes back to his parents’ home up north. I don’t think they’d mind all that much.”

Of course they wouldn’t. Mike’s mother simply loved the company whenever we made the trip to Wall Sina, but there was always that sneaking suspicion that she loved Nanaba just a hair more than the rest of us.

Still, there was a forlorn look in her eye, a soft breath passing through her lips as she leaned further back against the tree. Almost as though she didn’t believe her own words.

“That sounds nice,” I whispered, but her eyes drooped to the ground, where she was scuffing up the dust with the heel of her boot. “…Doesn’t it?”

“I guess you could say that.” Her smile was back, but that look in her eye remained. “Now it’s your turn. What do you plan to do after this?”

Every word I could think of was on the tip of my tongue all at once; every silly dream I’d harbored since I was a child, right up until this morning as I curled up into Levi’s side, nestled comfortably in his bed. My cheeks were burning, my voice no more than a hushed mumble. But Nanaba leaned forward eagerly, urging me to speak up. And I knew better than to hide from those soft blue eyes.

You brought this on yourself, Wolf. So own up to it.

“…I want to marry. Maybe have a kid or two…”

I glanced up at her, waiting for a smug smile or a snarky comment about Levi (I know Hanji would absolutely go for it, but Nanaba had a bit more class than her). Instead she was gazing down at me, drumming her fingers against the crook of her elbow, and nodding along to the sound of my voice.

“That sounds nice, too.”

That sad look in her eye was back again, stronger than ever. And suddenly I was starting to feel a twinge in my chest, a gaping hole stretching itself wider and wider as our conversation began to truly sink in.

The question was hanging between us in the air, too heavy to say out loud. Too terrifying to confront head-on.

Do you really think you’ll live long enough to see the end of this war?

It was a question every soldier had to face at one point or another. From every cadet learning how to wield a pair of swords for the first time, to every veteran silently counting down the days with a smile on his face. There was always that lingering fear in their minds, that little voice that held too much weight to be ignored. That constant reminder of the reality of this world, and how cruel and unjust it could be.

We all had our dreams and goals and fears. Hopes for the future, regrets of the past, promises made to one another when all seemed lost. Little things to tell ourselves to get through the day, even if they consisted of unobtainable dreams we would never be able to reach in our lifetimes.

For Nanaba, it was going back home with Mike. For myself, it was settling down with Levi and having a child.

Sweet dreams to cling onto when all seemed lost, that little flicker of light at the end of the tunnel to help us keep pressing on. But all of that meant nothing when staring down the maw of a Titan, its beady eyes filled with rage.

How many of our comrades had held similar dreams? Dreams of returning to their homes and starting a new life for themselves? And how many of those dreams had died alongside them, at the jaws of the Titans beyond the Walls?

A bitter pill to swallow, but necessary nonetheless. It would be a miracle if we all came out of this war alive. We couldn’t afford to waste time wondering about what the future held for us. The best we could do was make the most out of what we could with our lives now.

I leaned against the tree with a sigh, my shoulder touching Nanaba’s beneath the shade. Across the meadows I could see Murphy and Evan, letting their horses out for a quick run. And close behind was Emily, with Ivy galloping after Misty and Gus as fast as her legs could carry her.

And suddenly it clicked—that was the future we were all fighting for. Not just for the good of humanity, for the safety of the people within the Walls, but for the chance to give those kids a better life.

Reggie, Gretel, Evan, Murphy, Emily—even Eld and Gunther, and Petra, Oluo, and Nifa. And every single one of our fresh-faced recruits, and even the cadets still in training at the southern tip of Wall Rose. Even the littler ones who played in the outer districts, who went to school in the heart of Wall Sina, who still got in trouble with their parents for playing too roughly with their siblings.

Those kids were the ones who mattered the most. The ones that were here and now, living and breathing—the most precious people within these Walls.

Maybe I couldn’t reach my dream of having children of my own in this life. But I could damn well do my best to make sure those kids woke up in the morning, without fear of what was lurking beyond our little haven.

|~|

The weight in my chest had eased up as the day carried on. By the time I retired to my office for the night it was no more than a little lump in my throat—easy to choke down when Levi came to visit me, a stack of paperwork under one arm, and a tray of tea in the other.

Neither of us spoke as we settled into our usual routine: the two of us seated across from each other at my desk, the only sound between us being the scratch of our pens against the parchment.

In a way I was relieved; at least neither of us seemed eager to mention my slip-up last night. It was for the best, anyway. The sooner I stopped thinking about it, the sooner it would leave my mind altogether.

But as I filed my papers away for the night, that strange feeling came back like a raging inferno. I grimaced at the culprit: the box set of books Moblit had gotten me for my birthday last night, resting on the edge of the file cabinet.

Where Mom Lives.

My mother’s favorite books to read as she waited for Dad to come home, curled up against the arm of the couch with her elbow propped up on a stack of pillows. She would always shake her head whenever the three of us would climb into her lap and ask her to read aloud to us. “You’re too young,” she would say, but she would still open the blanket and allow us to come cuddle with her. “You won’t appreciate it until you’re older. Much older than you are now.”

Before I knew it I was standing in front of the file cabinet, staring up at the three books above. Red, bronze, and green, each with fine gold trimming along the edges and spines. The pages were crisp and clean, and yet when I took the first book and opened it up, it still had that soft dusty smell to it.

Just like home, and my throat closed up all over again.

A pair of arms came to rest around my waist, and I bit back a smile as Levi pulled me backwards, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I hope you’re not planning on keeping those all to yourself.”

“Oh, would you like to read them when I’m finished?”

But he only shook his head, before leading me away from the cabinet, with his arms still around my waist. This time I laughed as he flopped us down on the couch, side by side, with the pillows pressed against my arm. Wordlessly he stole a pillow from the stack, placed it against my lap, and pressed his cheek to the soft fabric. A few seconds passed before he glanced up at me, the slightest trace of annoyance written across his face.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

With another laugh, I leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing his long bangs out of his beautiful eyes. Then his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. And when I was done, I leaned against the cushions of the couch, turned to the first page, and began to read aloud.

And all the while, as selfish as it was, I thought of sharing a new life with him, just the two of us away from the world, with a home of our own and children in our arms.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #slow burn #levi x oc #levi ackerman #mia wolf #oc x canon #romance #a wolf with wings #wolves of the walls saga #oc story #oc insert #levi x mia #volume I #aot fics

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