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h34rtbeat · 5 months

Note

what about non con with Heeseung and Sunghoon

NIGHT SHIFTS

warnings: non con, oral (m.receiving), p in v sex, public sex (?) , slapping, hair pulling, degradation. HARD non-con, and hard dom!heeseung, softer but still hard dom sunghoon

working late wasn’t necessarily fun, nor was it boring. every now and then you’d get some crazy people, but it was a gas station, what could you expect?

sure here and there some person would come in, yelling and screaming, yet nothing was as scary as now.

two very attractive men walked in, not strange— many come in after clubbing. but these guys were clean. nice jawline, one of them paler than the other, yet both were shining.

working at a convenience store wasn’t ever bad, not until someone attractive walked in.

dressed in a black shirt, a skirt and some fleece tights. the black shirt being a collared polo, with the company logo. that wasn’t charming at all. sometimes paired with a simple black zip up like tonight, since it was chilly.

especially not when these two men are gorgeous— probably the hottest men you’ve seen walk in this stupid gas station.

they wore hoodies and sweats, though only one had a hood on. you didn’t know his name, yet he knew yours because of your name tag. grabbing numerous chip bags and some sweet bread from the isles, they approached.

“having a goodnight?” you asked, not because you were actually curious, but to make some small talk.

“…so so.” one of them replied. the other one- the paler one was either zoning out, or his stare was really just that intense.

“you have a pretty name.” the same one— tanned one, spoke. he pointed at your name tag, making you a bit flustered.

“thanks.” you replied, still scanning other items.

then, you saw one— the paler one— lean over and whisper something in his friends ear. you saw the other one, the tanned one, have a face feigning shock. not super shocked, like a “oh?”

“your total is 15.2-“ your sentence cut short by one, the paler one this time,

“i uhm.. forgot my wallet. is there any other way we can pay?” you look between the two men. they both looked a bit amused.

“do.. you have your card on your phone?” you asked, there was always paying methods.

the tanned one spoke out again “no, well.. we were thinking of other ways to pay it back.”

“uhm.. i’m sorry i can’t think of any other way? Unless you guys have some sort of membership here.” you gestured towards the window, showing that there was an app.

“damn, she’s stupid..” one rubbed his face.

then, the paler one looked directly at you.

“hey, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you were about to point.

“no, like.. can you show me?”

you gulped. but nodded. you stepped out from behind the register, and began to walk towards the bathroom. why were you terrified? you had showed the bathroom before. it was behind a storage room for some reason.

you checked behind your shoulder to make sure he was still following, but then you saw both of them. maybe both of them needed to use the restroom, right?

taking a turn, you finally reached the storage room. where the bathroom was.

“and.. it’s right over h-mmph!”

a slender hand grabbing you, shutting your mouth while your back ended pressed up against the other one. panic filled your senses, and your wrists were held by the other guy.

“you know, you’re a real pretty gas station worker. usually it’s some old dude, but you…” the tan one leaned in, “are just… so young and pretty.”

“do you wanna know who we are?” the tan one asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“our friends come here sometimes… one of them, he’s real young. he thinks you’re real cute. you seen him? he has.. blond-ish hair..” he scoffed, before continuing “never mind , there’s probably a thousand guys with blonde hair.”

“be nice, she doesn’t understand what we’re doing.” the pale one said. “why don’t we tell her our names? i doubt this chick will snitch anyway.” he unzipped your sweater, with one hand. he took his hand off your mouth, to discard your zip up.

you squirmed, thrashing against the tanned one, not wanting to be touched.

“stop it— don’t touch m-“ a tug of your hair, pulling your head back, and the tan one was tongue deep in your mouth, clashing your lips together.

“she’s gonna be loud, huh..” the pale one mumbled, already meshing your boobs together through the polo. “my name’s sunghoon.. his name is heeseung..”

heeseung pulled off your lips, releasing your wrists so he could start rubbing your waist. “you’re pretty and your body feels nice.. how in the world did you end up in a gas station?”

in any other situation that you’d create in your mind, you’d try to scream and punch, but your waist was gripped so hard that you couldn’t move.

sunghoon moved in, now he was kissing you. they were going to have their fun with you, even if you didn’t want to.

heeseung seemed to just be observing, sunghoons hands still clamped on your breasts as he was sloppily eating you alive. heeseungs hands slipped lower, til they found themselves under your skirt.

you let out a shriek in sunghoons mouth, but he would only pull away if he needed to breathe, not if you did. he didnt care if you didn’t like it, because he did.

“a nice ass too…” heeseung muttered, flipping your skirt up completely. sunghoon pulled off of you, completely moving his hands off.

you thought maybe then— they’d both stop. then, behind you, you heard a slight shuffling noice, and you were flipped around, shoved to your knees.

you couldn’t utter a word of defense, heeseungs cock shoved right between your lips.

“Fuck— oh, you’re real pretty, so pretty..” he moaned, pushing your head down so you’d take him fully. He wanted to torture you, to see how you’d take it.

Fully aware that sunghoon was still behind you, even as your nails dug into heeseungs thighs. All that could be heard in that silent store, was your choking and gagging noises, and heeseungs moans.

“She’s a slut, I told you..” you heard sunghoon mutter, you could hear him lean against one of the storage shelves as your mouth was being used like a fleshlight.

“Heeseung, lift her up.” Sunghoon said, and heeseung groaned.

“why? can’t you see.. she’s enjoying herself.” heeseung mocked, your eyes brimming with tears, having on his cock.

“i think she’s ready to fuck, that’s why.” sunghoon muttered.

heeseung tugged your hair, pulling your mouth off.

“guess we’ll just have to keep her bent over…” heeseung says, as he forced you up. sunghoons hands pushed at your back, so you bent over, your nose dragging along heeseungs dick.

you felt a breeze against your ass now, yet you didn’t hear a rip. seemed this guy had enough decent to not rip your fleece tights.

“this bitch is wearing fleece tights.. i can’t even rip ‘em.” sunghoon cursed, slipping your panties to the side.

“that means she’s cold. we gotta keep her warm then, yeah” heeseung laughed, as he kept rubbing his dick, moving it across your face.

“did you grab those condoms off the counter?” heeseung asked, putting himself back in your mouth, just the tip this time.

sunghoon fiddled with the band of his pants, bringing them down only enough for his dick to spring out.

“no. I wanted to fuck her raw.” your eyes widened, and you looked up at heeseung, as if begging him to say no.

“do whatever.” heeseung laughed. “this bitch wants to beg.”

“mhm..” sunghoon took one final look at your sopping cunt, before sliding right in. “oh.. fuck…” he almost came from how right you were.

“is this bitch a virgin?” sunghoon almost laughed, beginning his deep thrusts.

“don’t think so.. she’s suckin’ my dick like a whore.” heeseung continued his hair pulling antics, and your body was forced to take sunghoon and heeseung deeper, the thrust moving your body involuntarily.

“fuck.. uh.. ah..” sunghoon moaned, landing a light slap on your ass. “clenching tighter? bet you’re enjoying all this, huh? you liked being fucked by two guys at your workplace?”

“nasty ass slut.” heeseung cursed. he could hear the way you gagged around him, he likes it more now that your tears were actually spilling down your cheeks. the lip gloss you wore was smeared all over his dick.

“oh.. fuck.. i’m gonna cum inside of her, yeah..” sunghoon mumbles, and you made a noise against heeseung.

“bro.. what if she gets pregnant.” heeseung questioned, even though he was suffocating you with his dick.

“no fuckin’ way. ask her if she’s on the pill.”

heeseung slapped your cheek. “you on the pill?”

you wanted to lie, to shake your head no, but you felt that either way, they didn’t care. it was better to be honest.

you nodded.

“she wants me to cum inside.. uh.” sunghoon grunted, before you could protest, heeseung pulled your face off, making your tongue loll out. he painted your face with his semen, making sure to leave some on your tongue.

“good slut.. i’ll have to come back and fuck you like he did sometime. swallow.” heeseung tapped your chin with his thumb, and you complied, closing your mouth and swallowing.

sunghoon did his quietly, cumming inside your cunt and forcing you to keep it in. he didn’t say anything as he tucked himself back in.

some part of you kind of wished it didn’t end.

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darlingsfandom · 5 months

Text

Little Lamb

AU: Priest Cillian x Fem Reader!

Father Murphy x Fem Reader!

Warnings: Angst! Religious themes, loss of virginity, age gap, p in v, raw sex. Priest kink!

It burned, the bitter taste of jealousy dancing on your tongue as you watched your priest simply talking to one of the church moms. Jealousy and lust have been running through your veins for years. Your family moved to town when you were only six years old and at the time church was fun! All the stories about Noah's ark and all the animals but you're not a child anymore. You grew up in this church watching all the new babies be blessed, all the family picnics, trunk or treats over the years and when you reached puberty it was terrible. You only had one person in mind, Father Murphy. He was double your age, a man of god! He watched you grow there was no way he'd ever look at you in the devils light. He was always sweet to you, thanked you for all your time involved with the church, he'd even let you take some extra candy during Halloween for your help, but you'd refuse because you were worried about your soul.

Soul? You scoffed at the memory while you stood in the cafeteria of the church helping clean up the tables after everyone else left besides a few goers that liked to have a silent prayer up by the alter. You were convinced you had no soul. You were old enough to decide on your own who you wanted to be and now that you were living on your own you were trying to figure new things out, but one thing never changed: your feelings for father Murphy. You stood there clenching a tray tightly as you watched Father Murphy talk to the church mom, your nostrils flared when her hand ran over his arm. Something snapped inside of you causing the metal tray to fall to floor with a loud clank. Both of them looked in your direction making your face heat up with embarrassment. The air became thick as you quickly picked up the tray and tossed it to its correct spot before sprinting off towards your safe spot in the church.

Bubbles of jealousy stirred in your stomach as you hid in the storage closet that kept all the decorations for the holidays. A soft knock came on the door making your body freeze out of fear.

"Y/N? I know you're in there? Are you okay?" Father Murphy spoke softly as you moved around the decorations to slowly open the door. "Oh my, what's the matter?" His hand gently grabbed your cheek. His scanned every black stained tear on your cheeks, darkened pupils and redness bursting on your cheeks.

"It's non of your concern father!" Your words spit out like venom as you removed his hand from your face before turning your face back into the room.

"You are in the house of God! You do not speak that way to your priest." Father Murphy grabbed your arm, pulling you forward and stumbling on your feet.

"I'm in the house of sin!"

"And what does that mean my child?"

"Ask that whore you were just all over!"

Before you could speak a sharp sting came across your face as father Murphy had slapped you in the mouth. You grabbed your face in shock.

"I'm sorry to have done that you my child.. but..

"I'm not a child!" You blurted out before stomping your foot. Father Murphy straightened himself out before grabbing your hand and taking you back into his office. His office has not changed once in over fifteen years everything was the same. You sat down on the old leather cracked chair as he sat down at his desk with his hands folded.

"Would you like to explain yourself for dat little outburst?" He leaned forward with stern eyes lingering over you while you sat there with your exposed legs crossed over each other while slightly swinging your black heel off your foot and arms crossed under your chest to push your breasts up out of your yellow sundress. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while looking out the window of his office before he cleared his throat to make you look back at him.

"I already told you!" Your words were lashing out and he couldn't believe your attitude. This wasn't you. Not his sweet little lamb. Father Murphy had watched you grow. He even gave you the sex talk when you were seventeen because your parents had caught you almost kissing a boy when you were studying. He couldn't understand how you've become so twisted.

"Lashing out, stomping your feet, calling people names, tats actin like a child. Now tell me, wats ta matter wit ya?" His voice was filled with concern this time.

You huffed. "Like you actually care."

"Of course I care, if I didn't I wouldn't have ya in here. Why'd ya tink I didn't care bout ya?"

You unfolded your arms and placed your hands on your lap before smoothing your dress. Blood was pumping like crazy through out your veins when you straightened up and looked dead into his eyes.

"Ever since she showed up at the church, you've acted like I don't exist! You've tossed me aside like a cheap whore! Well I got news for you father , I'm not a whore! I've been saving myself for you since you gave me the sex talk years ago! I've never even touched myself not once! Never even kissed a boy because of you! And she waltzed right in here and suddenly I'm not yours anymore! I'm not special to you anymore! I'm nothing to you!" Your eyes bursted with stinging tears as your heart ripped out of your chest. Father Murphy quickly shot up of his chair before he wrapped his arms around you.

"None of that is true my little lamb! Well at least the last part. Of course you're special to me. I watched you grow into a beautiful young lady. I've always been there for you. Just because we have a new member of the church doesn't mean I'd forget you !" His fingers trailed down your back slowly while you hid your face in his chest. Father Murphy moved his hand up to your hair and stroked your hair making you calm down until you were breathing normally.

Father Murphy pulled away slowly to look at your face. His thumbs wiped away your tears as he held your face in his hands. Both of you stood there silently searching for something in each others eyes. You sighed softly before he cupped your chin and lifted it upwards. His eyes scanned over you again before stepping away to grab something from his desk. He grabbed your hand while holding his prayer beads and walked out of his office until you two were standing at the altar. No one was around , even she had left which made you happy, but father Murphy pulling on your hand brought you back.

"Kneel before me." He had his head held high.

You kneeled before placing your hands in your lap with soft eyes glancing up at him until he placed the beads around your neck like a necklace.

"Y/N , you have admitted to the sin of jealousy and lust. Ta lord has heard of your sins. As your priest I may cleanse ya of yer sins if you ask for it. I shall take away yer sins and re bless your soul if ya dedicate yerself ta me and only me. God knows yer dedicated him days why were asking for his blessing for us!" His hand stayed placed on your head as he spoke. "Do you child, truly wish ta be mine and only mine? To be me only love?" His voice broke a little which made you place your hand over his and pull yourself to up.

"Father Murphy, I poured myself to you. I don't want you to pity me. Do you truly have feelings and urges for me?" Your eyes were pleading as he looked into yours.

"As God as our witness, I have. I have wanted ya for a long time but being a priest ... and you being so young!" You placed your fingers over his lips before standing up straight as his hands cupped your face, his lips connected to yours slowly. Your noses bumped against each other making you giggle which made him smile.

Something took over in you as father Murphy kissed you again. Your hands ran up his chest before clutching onto it. His hands gripped onto your arms making you whimper against his lips. "Take me father, please." Both of you had just declared each other as yours before he grabbed your hands and took you back into his office. He looked through his stuff before grabbing a set of keys. He took you to a room that you had never seen before, the door lead down into a basement that was surprisingly in excellent condition.

"Father? What is this ?" You asked following him down. When he flipped the light switch on you seen that it was fully furnished with a queen sized bed, simple black and white bedding, a statue of the Virgin Mary and lots of candles.

"Tis is where I live sweetheart." Father Murphy walked you over and sat you down on the edge of his bed before sitting next to you. His hand rested upon your knee giving it a squeeze which made you tingle.

"Take me father, please?" His hand rubbed against your cheek, pulled you in closer and kissed you gently. His tongue pushed against your lips which you open your lips slightly so he could slide his tongue in. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste. Fever rushed over your body making you climb into his lap. Father Murphy held your hips while licking your tongue before pulling away. You leaned back into him and wrapped your lips around the tip of tongue, sucking gently his hands ran over your back while pulling down the zipper on your dress. The fabric fell down exposing your white silky bra to him. Father Murphy pushed you off carefully and stood you up so your dress could pool around your ankles.

"Wow, my little lamb, ya really did blossom into a beautiful woman!" His hands ran down your curves giving your love handles a squeeze before turning you around to look at your ass. Your cheeks turned pink when you felt his hand gripping your ass. "Such a beautiful woman." His lips attacked the back of your neck. Your knees felt weak making you grip his arm as he wrapped it around your waist. Father Murphy continued to kiss your neck while groping your breasts from behind and pressing his hard on against your ass.

In a matter of seconds Father Murphy had your bra unhooked on the floor and you laying on your back on his bed.

"Yer a goddess, I know shouldn't say tat but tis true!" He unbuttoned his pants slowly while you laid there biting your bottom lip. His pants were on the ground before he climbed back into bed with you. His fingers trailed over your thighs while looking into your eyes. The air was thick again , your heart was going to burst into a million pieces . How is this real life? How is this happening when a few moments ago you were pouring your heart out.

Father Murphy kneeled above you grabbing your plush thighs and pulling them up to look down at your sex. It was glistening with your arousal as he looked at in awe before looking into your eyes. He leaned into you brushing his dick against your pussy so he could kiss you gently. His fingers laced with yours while he looked at you again. You were below him with such pink kissable lips, your neck covered his small bruises from his kisses, the way his prayer bead hung on your neck and laid between your breasts, you were his personal porn star. The only thing he left you in besides his beads was your heels.

"Tank ya Lord fer me little lamb. She's been a holy girl til now, she's mine. She's da perfect woman tat I've always needed and wanted. May ya bless her lord as we act in sin, she might be da devil ta others but she's perfect fer me." Father Murphy prayed above you. His words struck your core making your thighs clench before he opened them again.

"Just tell me if ya need me to stop sweetheart!" Father Murphy grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart before he slid the head of his aroused cock inside of you slowly. Your nose scrunched up as a tear dare shed from your eye while he pushed into you. "I have ya darlin, just relax." His cock twitched inside of you.

This was all new yet familiar to you. Your nails dug into his shirt pulling the fabric a little you felt the sting slowly disappear. The room suddenly felt full like everyone was watching the two of you, but when you looked back into Father Murphys eyes you felt safe, loved, protected. His free hand pressed against your cheek and stroked it gently as he gave one final push because now he was all the way inside of you.

"Oh! Fuck!" You cried out as your hips flew up making him moan at the sudden motion.

"It's okay darlin, I'm all the way inside of you." His fingers traced along your jawline before moving over your nipples giving them each a pinch before he slowly started thrusting into you. It was a little weird and messy as he held your hips making sure to get an angle that felt good since you laid there whimpering. Once he held your hips up and slightly twisted his fat cock was hitting you just right making you moan his name while dragging your warm hands over his sweaty chest.

"Yer so pretty like tis , yer always pretty but us actin in sin together ! Ya really could be a little devil!" Your lips curved into a smirk while he thrusted in and out of you at a faster pace making the smirk turn into an O! Your eyes locked in on his as a weird feeling waved over your body.

"Stop stop stop! Father I feel funny!" You tried to push him away when he grabbed your wrist and slowly stopped.

"Wat are ya feelin?"

"Like my insides are going to burst, my nipples are sore ... I ..

"Yer gonna cum honey! It's your first orgasm! It's gonna be okay. I got ya, just relax and let go!" His words went right to your core! Your body jolted forward and with a cry of his name you were dragging your nails into his arms while squeezing your eyes shut. You collapsed into his chest while his own orgasm hit him hard. He filled you with his cum making your eyes widen as he groaned into your ear.

Father Murphy pulled out of you slowly while gently laying you back down on the bed. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a wet wash cloth and slowly cleaned you up before getting into bed with you. "Don't ya worry honey. It's us now. No one will come between us. Yer me girl from now on."

"I thought priest couldn't have girlfriends." You curled into his side while he wrapped his arm around your waist. His fingers played with your hair while you laid your head on his chest.

"No priest can have girlfriends, I just waited for mine to finally get it out there." Father Murphy kissed your head gently before he gave you another kiss. This is all you ever wanted and you finally got it.

#cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy fluff #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy blurb #Cillian Murphy #cillian murphy x reader #emsblurbs #cillian murphy smut

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Note

aaaaah my heart died of tenderness with rook's hdcns with lipstick buuut now I beg you plss ;u; I need one the same but with vil schoenheit plsss ksjsks I also want to fill vil's face with kisses (/ u \)

the queen's markings

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!reader

Synopsis: he wouldn't lose a competition in something he's an expert in, but it's more fun than he expected

Tags: established relationship, kissing, lipstick marks, crack, bot proofread

Word count: 491

Notes: happy birthday @v-anrouge! i hope this vil fluff brightens your day aster, thank you for always bringing fun energy into my feed hahaha (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

The rules are simple: you would take turns with a one-minute timeframe to shower the other with kisses and leave lipstick marks behind. The one who leaves the most marks by the end of the game would win.

really??? that's such a messy idea?? and you're just making a mess that you'll have to clean up later

if you wanted to kiss him, you should've just said so ;)

Vil doesn't really get the appeal when you tell him the idea

but once he agrees, as with everything, he's very meticulous about it, deliberately choosing the perfect lipstick that would transfer well and match your skin tone

he wears makeup so often, he's basically an expert in the transferability and durability of makeup

only usually he's trying not to get his lipstick smeared

but when it's your turn, he can't deny he enjoys having you place kiss after kiss on him

though the stickiness of the lipstick is a bit messy, he loves the warmth of your breath against his skin, accompanied by the gentle touch of their lips

there's a proud smile on his face as you litter his face with kisses

surprisingly, the game is really relaxing, although he could really do without the messiness

when it's his turn, his posture straightens slightly while he scans your face to see where to start with each delicate touch of his lips, he strategically places precise and vibrant lipstick marks, ensuring maximum impact and coverage

he pays attention to every detail, from the angle of his kisses to the intensity of his affection

he moves swiftly, yet with calculated precision, ensuring that no spot on your face is left untouched

aaand ding ding! when times up, he steps back a bit, his chest rising and falling with a mixture of excitement and satisfaction as he admires your flushed face

he shouldn't find it attractive really, it's messy and sticky and gosh he hopes it doesn't leave a stain, but he can't deny how satisfied he feels having so thoroughly marked you, and how alluring you look in the moment

the two of you definitely take pictures together to commemorate

he's never going to show anyone this picture, he's the only one who can see how beautiful you are

he's very likely to win, he knows the ins and outs of his makeup, so he definitely has an advantage there

okay, it's cleansing time

if you clean your face properly, he'll pamper you with a little skin care/spa session

"Darling, if you desired my kisses, a direct request would have sufficed," Vil smiles teasingly, tilting your cheek upwards. "I suppose I can partake in this game, but I don't quite understand the appeal."

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you covered in his meticulously placed lipstick marks, a mix of pride and affection evident in his expression. "Ah, my dear, you wear my affection so well," Vil murmurs, his voice infused with a sense of satisfaction.

"Now, it is imperative that we clean up properly. It is essential in maintaining the health and radiance of our skin," he says, his voice carrying an air of authority. "Come, I prepared some face masks for us to enjoy."

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit x reader

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cherubispunk · 7 months

Text

UP IN YOUR ARMS (CHAPTER ONE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

a note from Lucy: chapter one! I'm digging my own grave here. thats all im saying. i promise it is focused on joel and the reader later in the chapter. im just setting the scene for differnt relationships in the series.

playlist

wc: 6969 (haha lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

series m.list | m.list

The jazz band was one of the finest groups in the city. ‘Only the finest for The Canary Club’, as Johnny had put it.

Johnny Boy Finnick.

Now he was a man. Played sports in college, muscular, strong arms that pinned you to the wall or mattress or table. Hands that shuffled playing cards with ease and had you screaming far after the night was over. Deep blue eyes and blonde hair that never fell out of place from its slicked back style. Not even after he had crushed someone's jaw under the weight of his pummeling, bloodlusting fist.

Johnny made a name for himself bootlegging liquor, too young to fight in the first world war. Took over as The Boss of Boston. It’s how he got his name. Johnny Boy. Fresh faced but the heart of a ragged old man. Lost it all after the second world war, gained it back not long after. A killer with a bone deep yearning for blood, money, violence, and you.

He sat in his pressed suit, legs parted as he leaned over to display his full flush to the table, flashing a killer smile when he collected the money off his right hand man and three more of his boys. You smiled from the bar, beads of your dress twinkling in the low light of the speakeasy, ready to waltz over with another old fashioned and drape yourself in his lap.

“Thanks, Henry.” You smiled at your oldest friend, taking the drink he had placed down in front of you on the bar. Henry was your age, 25. A boy from Hartford, Connecticut, grew up in Kansas, then moved here looking for work in a big city. Honest, hardworking. Sweeter than cherry pie. And his little brother Sam was just the cutest pip you'd ever seen.

“No problem, Doll.” He teased, which deserved a roll of the eyes from you.

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“This would make it…” he glanced up for a second, as if calculating within his mind, “one too many times to count.”

“Funny.” You gave him a quick bitter smile. All in good fun, clearly, for he took no offence. He just shot you a smile, running a clean rag over the bartop, collecting two glasses and wiping the rings of condensation they left upon maplewood.

“Your man looks thirsty. Might wanna take him his drink now. Before he gets the wrong idea about me talking to ya.” You sighed, craning your head slightly to look back at Johnny who scanned the place with a scowl. It made your skin crawl the thought of his temper snapping again. Despite it, you left Henry with a playful wink his way before swanning back over, placing Johnny’s drink in front of him and a vermillon kiss to his cheek.

Johnny sneered at the affection, wiping your lipstick stain from his cheek. All the confidence you had fell to the floor and shattered miserably. Liquid courage sloshed on the cured wood floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Doll. What you do that for?” He demanded of you, the disgust in his cruel cerulean eyes sending a chilling, agonising jolt down your spine.

“Sorry, Johnny.” You shied away, folded your hands together, eyes on the floor.

“Ain't you gotta powder your nose or something? Go on. Piss off.”

He was right. You’d be on soon. Drenched in the spotlight. Under the scrutinising, side cramping glare of everyone's eye. You could do with the quiet. So you shuffled off to your dressing room without a word more, holding back tears with your breath.

In the mirror, you mourned the girl you were. Mourned the life you had before it all turned upside down. Mourned the man you fell in love with. And the monster you had no choice but to stay with.

—

Joel was fuming. If you touched his skin you'd reel back with a scorched yelp because his blood ran hot, fast and thick under his flesh. Trust Tommy to catch himself in the web of underground crime. Always a joiner. Always a deserter too when things got heated. And who was left to untangle him from its intricate, venom snared weave? Joel ‘Gubbins’ Miller. He might as well have ‘mother to my brother’ branded on his forehead. Because that's what he was now.

The war ended four years ago and ever since Tommy had been searching for his purpose. Preached about it round the dinner table in their grimy, mildew inhabited apartment like a preacher would his sermon. And every time it set Joel’s teeth on edge. Because he knew what came after the downfall. The pickup.

Now, however, Joel was determined to nip this lunacy in the bud. Tear it up from the soil by the new roots.

The Canary Club was one of the few remaining speakeasies around in Boston. To a cop it was practically a ghost of an establishment. Might as well not be there. But to a man like Joel, whose brother never stopped babbling on about the next best thing he had cooking for himself, it was as easy as pie.

A shroud of cloud hung just above Boston’s looming buildings, teaming with the early moon to create a murky gloom over the dim city’s sin. It seemed to fill the hollow, smoggy air as they cast dark, taut shadows over the slick, grimy roads. The sky threatened rain for the third day in a row. A place that reeked of underground crime, drug rings and watered down, once bootlegged alcohol, laced with what one can only assume to be illegal too. All of that was washed down with the constant sour smell of new rain upon dirty tarmac. A city plagued and tarnished by its own rejects.The promise of work bought them in. But the lifestyle spat them back out. Chewed up and ruined by their own humanising hope.

He and his brother came in search of work. They were getting nowhere down south in Texas. On the dole and barely able to afford a loaf of bread between the two of them. Even their own mother hardly recognised her boys after the war. Said they were empty shells of men. Husks of the boys she raised. Killers.

The woman was a pacifist at heart. And it was a trait that Joel not only saw as weak, but typical of women. Or that's what his father had socialised him into thinking. He didn't know where his father’s ideals ended and his started. As the days went by he saw more of the violence his father harboured in himself. Grimaced at the lug in the looking glass.

Joel was no pacifist. But he didn't storm through the doors either. No gun was in hand ready to send people screaming bloody murder. That was stupid. A mistake that he knew could wind him up on the concrete in the flooded gulley with a bullet in his head where blood and water could finally mix. Instead he stole in quietly in the ambience of playing cards and a Jazz band, ordered himself a drink, and sat at the far corner of the bar where it was dimly lit. Just enough for him to see his drink and the room, but his face still remained shadowed.

While he sipped in ponder, he took the chance to people watch. Scan the patrons for any uncanny resemblance of dear Tommy. But nothing. He seemed distracted by the careful and steady hand that polished glass after glass, though each of them were spotless before touching the rag.

A pointless task. Some may say sisyphean. But the boy doing so knew when eyes were on him. It was a very rare occurrence if not related to his race. People of any darker colour were ogled often in these parts despite it being more accepted within the north of America. There was still divide and segregation. However, this new patron wasn't looking for Henry’s skin colour, rather contemplating how on earth a boy such as him had ended up in such a place. What connection he had to the gang. Was he like Tommy? Roped in at the side of the side of the road and choking on his remaining pride. Or in a sticky financial situation? All these questions seemed to circle like the rag in the crystal glass Henry held.

“What’s your name, kid?” Joel asked him with an ex-smoker's voice, brow dark in the shadow. The boy looked up, eyes youthful, but they'd seen things no man should have to.

“Henry.” He said after a beat, quick to refill Joel’s glass when it was empty besides a drop circled thin and amber in the bottom. “Yours?” Joel lifted his head, taking a sip before placing his glass back on the bartop in furrowed brow contemplation.

“Joel.” He leaned forward on his forearms, haunched over the bar, before looking around again. “Whatcha doin’ here, Henry?”

Henry laughed slightly, looking down at his feet before back in Joel's eyes. And what he was met with was the hollow ache of a man scarred by war. Henry’s face fell flat.

“Working.”

“No…I mean in Boston.”

Henry cleared his throat at the sudden, and even brash way Joel approached his question. So much that it took him a second to frown and then reply.

“Came from Kansas. Hard for a black kid to find honest work there. Especially with a family to look out for.” His words were solemn and reflected a truth Joel knew all too well growing up down south. Even if he never lived it in his own white skin.

“You look a little young to have a kid.”

“I don’t. I got a brother.” Joel nodded as he listened, waiting for him to go on. Which he did after a beat of silence. “Bright kid. Bright future too. He’s deaf though. Got a lot stacked against him in this world. Mom can't bring in enough to fund education for ‘im. So I stepped up.”

“No Daddy?” Joel asked and Henry shook his head. “How’d you end up here then?”

“A girl.” The look Joel gave Henry was sceptical. But the young boy was soon to put a stop to it all. “Not a girlfriend. Just a girl. We grew up in the same building. She moved up north for a life and I followed a few months later. She met a guy. A wealthy guy. And she wrote to me often of how swell Boston had been for her.”

Joel wasn't the questioning type. Neither one to beat around the bush. But Henry intrigued him. Reminded him a lot of Sarah. The challenge she had faced with the colour of her skin that he, as a white man, would never understand. He felt a guilt about it every day that flared up in the dark of night before his eyes closed for restless and futile sleep. “And this guy?”

“Him.” Henry nodded subtly over to the table of men playing cards. Poker. A game Joel knew well in the frontline and in Egypt where he fought. Him and a few others often huddled together in their own game. Nothing but the last pair of intact socks to bet on, or a single cigarette to get them through the night. Joel quit smoking the moment he got back. Knew it was something that made him unpredictable and jittery in the best of situations. “Johnny Boy Finnick. A big name in these parts.”

Joel followed Henry’s gaze, but his attention was snagged by the unmistakable head of dark curled hair facing away from him. He knew his brother anywhere and his blood began to boil as he threw back his second drink and slammed the empty glass on the bartop.

“Hey, man-” Henry tried, shoulders straining as he stood to attention. Joel didn't pay him any mind. Merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before his bar stool sharied upon the varnished wood floor. He cared not for the noise. Only the feeling he would get once his closed fist met the bone on the bridge of Tommy’s nose.

Trumpets flailed to a stop and drums failed mid blow. The room fell silent after a chorus of gasps.

He loved his brother. Deeply. So much it caused a chasm of a rib cracking hole in his chest every time Tommy slipped up. But he saw red now it all caught up behind his lids that blinked once. That split second of not seeing and before he had a chance to second guess, he was gripping the back of tommy;s collar and wrenching him up to his feet to deliver a shiner to the face.

Tommy staggered back, and everyone at his table stood up with the intention to harm. Yet no one but the brawling brothers fought. As he gained his footing again, he also gained his senses, recognising Joel anywhere.

“Joel, what the fu-” He was hardly able to finish before another shooting pain split his bottom lip open and Tommy’s mouth was filled with the taste of his own bitter blood. Blood he and Joel shared and were now shedding in a futile fight of nothing but testosterone. That was enough to send the same foul blow to his kin. Joel winced, knowing the crescent of a bruise that would bloom on his cheekbone overnight. One of Tommy’s many rings sliced his skin. He felt warmth in crimson dribble from a fresh flesh wound.

“Hey!” One loud and bellowing voice that had the power to command a whole unit of men boomed out before neither Joel or Tommy had the chance to throw another fist. It was for the better. Any more and Joel’s knuckles would have bruised purple. A colour of shame.

It was Johnny. And his face was stoic as he stared each brother down with a burning gaze that had even Joel’s hairs stood on end at the nape of his neck. Like an army stood to attention before the first charge. Except he didn't move. Joel knew now where he stood in the food chain of this speakeasy. And it was right at the very bottom. “You!” He pointed at Tommy. Go clean yourself up.” And Tommy went as pale as a funeral sheet before nodding meekly. His face melted from shock to shame in the blink of Joel’s very eye before he grumbled something under his breath and passed Joel with a sharp clip to his shoulder.

It's his turn now.

At this point you'd come out to see what the commotion was for. The walls, while thick upstairs in the printer's press, were thin in the basement. And you;d heard silence and the spit of a man as his blood splattered with spit on the floor in the doorway.

“The fuck do you think you’re doin throwin’ fists in my god damned club for?!” He roared. And Joel had to take the duration of both inhale and exhale to get his lips and tongue to work. But the scowl on his face said it all. “Huh?!” Jonny’s nostrils flared like a spanish thoroughbred bulls’.

“That’s my brother you got workin’ for ya. I ain't havin’ him in some shady drug ring you got goin in. I aint!”

Jonnly was no stupid man. Hr was smart. Quick minded and knew a man with balls. But Joel also knew very little. So this one time, he took the approach of calmness, and used his usual lying tongue for truth. Any other time it would she forked like Lucifer's serpent form. But now he was a man of coolness. “Right.” Johnny nodded at him, his tone was one that could soothe a ravenous bear. But with an edge as sharp as a knife. So sharp it could slice skin in one swift swoop. “Sit down.” He commanded calmly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

With a wave of his hand a cha was pulled out. Two heavy handed brutes shoving Joel down into a chair, an old fashioned presented to him by Henry in front of him on the maplewood table. Then Johnny addressed the room gently. Set its patrons at ease. The music played its jazzy, jolly tune once more. People spoke again.And Johnny took his seat opposite Joel.

“Look here…” The gangster waited for Joel to give him his name. Which he did. “Joel, I appreciate a strong swing as much as the next guy. But I don't appreciate it in my establishment.” Joel nodded in understanding. His temper ashamed him. How it ran hot under his skin. Fizzled white when provoked until he saw red in rage and swung. Never blindly though. He wasn't a loose cannon like the broken soldier stereotype enforced. Just a fractured man.

“You’re a soldier aint ya?” “Was.” Joel said gruffly. Curtly and he brewed a stare across from Johnny.

“Oh, nah.” Johnny shook his head, swirling his drink in the crystal glass, “Once a brother in arms, always a brother in arms. The war sticks with ya. You’re a soldier.” “Fine. Yeah, I'm a soldier.”

“I know the war. I served like you. Left a boy and came back a shell of a man. Now look at me.” Joel took a moment to calculate his motive here. Johnny’s arms stretched wide with a smirk of pure pride as he gestured to the heart of his Boston crime empire. “I got money. I got birds.” He held up his glass to Joel, “I got liquor.” then leaned forward and spoke in a grave tone, "What you got?”

Joel swallowed harshly, unable to answer because he had nothing in reality.

“You got a job?” He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No.”

“Figured. Hard finding work when all the women are competent enough to do it themselves. Fight for your country. End up on the streets. You don't die a hero like you thought you would. No one knows your name.” He scoffed, holding fingers up in air quotes around competent. It left a bitter taste of disgust in Joel’s mouth as the father of a daughter. Curled the edges of his tongue distastefully. Made him kiss his teeth to hold back the insult. “Well, people know my name.” Johnny paused again, the air grew thick between them and smouldered on their shoulders. He was squinting at Joel opposite him, sizing him up. Joel was rugged. A strong build and most likely a strong character too. Something Johnny could always do with having in abundance. And so when the devil's own smirk curled at his lip, Joel felt a question brewing at the very tip of his tongue. One that would change his life for better or worse. Regardless of it he declined or accepted. “And they could know yours too.”

Joel didn't want to admit it for the sake of his crumbling pride, but the man had it all. Even a good five years his junior, the man made a living for himself. Picked himself up from the dirt and used bloodshed and bodies for the foundations.

“I could use a guy like you–”

“No.” Joel put his offer down flat before it had the chance to meet the air.

“Hear me out.” He said calmly, and held up a hand, “A roof over your head. A steady income. A little extra dough in ya pocket?” Johnny rubbed his thumb and index finger together in the older man's face. An action to which Joel’s nostrils flared. It was embarrassing to even mull over. “Come on,” Johnny smirked. “Give it a go.”

The southerner’s lips pursed, as if he was thinking it over. Which he was. But to what lengths would he go? Sure, Joel was conditioned in a short few months to kill. He was good at it. Mowed down men on the frontline like clockwork. And his trigger finger twitched at the thought of holding that power once more. But that didn't mean he was a man without morals. The men’s blood he;d coat his hands in had families. They were someone's son. Probably someone's husband or father. Joel knew the hollow ache loss left. The imprint of a shadow it left. The chasm ripped in your chest. Loss felt like an agonising, deep, helpless pit. But here was Johnny, throwing him a rope

“You know, you’re right. This ain't the time to talk this over.” Johnny held his hands up and leaned back in his seat before they clapped back in his lap. Now you were at Johnny’s side once more. But the figure of Joel in his chair had something jumping in your bones. Tongue curling to taste his very words. “Dollface here will patch you up.”

You raised a brow, giving the two of them a dirty look. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?” You shut up when Johnny glared. Swallowed your pride, and sighed inwardly. You both hated and loved the power he held over you. As much as you despised it at times, Johnny had your being wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer holds his strings. And tightly. You felt his tug at the strain in your limbs.

“And you come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk in my office over a drink and a cigar. A good fucking drink.”

—

Joel swallowed harshly when he saw you. Eyes, wide and decorated by dark mascara lashes, white liner on lower waterlines, face of a doll like Johnny’s nickname for you suggested. The red lipstick you had re-applied moments prior was glossy, inviting him to stumble over velvet words he would hear you speak. Lean closer so the blood red could graze the shell of his ear while you would whisper a dirty joke at him.

He followed as you led him down a corridor off to the other side of the bar. Your dress seemed fit for hypnotising him into your bidding. Surely you were a siren who climbed the strats of a pier of the east coast and arrived here. Something about the beauty you wielded was not the everyday sort. It was the type you see women bend over backwards to achieve even a glimmer of for their man who came back after work. He could see himself now. Loosening his tie, hanging up his coat and hat. Leaving his briefcase and sanity at the door to see you in a pinafore and pin curls. Pretty gingham dress. He’d sit at the table and either be presented by you or a meal for his satiation. He’d prefer to devour the sweetness between your legs.

Your hand in front of his face had his attention now. Fingers snapping. Nails manicured and painted the same shade as your lipstick.

“Hey, you listening?” You asked, face set into displeasure. Joel straightened as he cleared his throat.

“What?” His tone was gruff and he mirrored your expression to you. His southern accent catching you off guard, but is intriguing.

“I said sit down.”

Joel looked over at the chair set at a vanity mirror you gestured to with an extended arm. The second time he had been asked to be seated. The second time he obeyed.

You took your time to wet a washcloth in the small basin in the corner with warm water. Took the bottle of whiskey you stashed last week from the bottom of a rickety chest of drawers. Joel watched you in the mirror, eyes narrowed a fraction to make sure you were of no threat to him. He knew he could take you easily. In more ways than one. The power imbalance had his length twitching in his trousers.

Your hands weren't gentle as you sat on the vanity between his legs. You took his stubbled chin in your grasp and jerked his head up into the light, tilting it to take a closer look at the gash.

“Stay still.” You said curtly, holding the rag to the opening of the bottle and wetting it. You then pressed it over the pad of your finger. The initial touch made his teeth bare at you and a hiss to escape his mouth. His large wrist enclosing around yours to make you stop. “I said,” And you yanked your wrist from his hold, “stay still.”

He did as he was told again. Silence setting his between the odd hiss from him and twitch of muscle under weathered skin. The crows feet at the side of his eyes were old. He clearly had lost his smile to something in the past. But you didn't ask, only wondered as you wiped the dried blood clean from his wound. “Fuckin grown man and you cant take a little sting of a cut.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself in amusement. Followed by a small huff of dry laugh.

“Maybe if you weren't digging your fingers into a fresh bruise I wouldn’t be wincin’.” You shot him a look and let go.

“All done.” And you held up your hands for good measure.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and crossing your arms. He reached for the whiskey and took a large gulp, pursing his lips at the slow burn in the back of his throat.

“None of your business.”

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” He stated lowly. He was right. But you found a sick satisfaction in having any man you liked bend to your will. Answer any question you so pleased to hear the answer to.

His bones groaned as he stood up from the chair. Your coat draped over the back of it fell to the floor and you swiftly got up to swipe it from the floor and hand it on the hook on the back of the door before pressing your back to it and facing him. Blocking his exit. “Move.”

“Tell me your name.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin up at him.

“Don’t make me move you, princess.”

“Tell me your name.”

Joel bit his tongue, the vein in his neck starting to pulse visibly under his skin that once again went hot.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I’m nosy.” You smiled, sarcastic and saccharine. “And i want to know the name i’ll be moaning tonight as i touch myself under the covers.”

“Fuckin-” His jaw ticked, nostrils flared in his disdain. You kept your smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a small guttural noise from the back of his throat. A headache was starting to coil behind the strain of his eyes. “Joel.” And he looked back up at you. It still wasn't enough “Miller.” Your smile was genuine this time, just as sweet. You uncrossed your arms, standing up straight from the door to hold out your hand and give him your name in return. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle and swerving you. He pulled the door but you used your body weight to slam it shut with your back again. A loud slam and a creak of protest from its hinges.

“Where are you from, Joel?”

“Is this a game to you, girl?” Joel growled.

“Yes.” The smile you had was sly. Foxy. A single finger ran down his chest and dared to slip just under his shirt’s collar. “I like games.”

“You don't wanna do that.” He warned, dark eyes burning you up inside from your very core. It was the look of a man’s lust that had been left untouched, unloved for quite some time now. It strained at his morality. But who were you to give up the warning and keen hand of a man who so desperately needed a release to the coiling tension of his shoulders. You saw it. Felt it in the rhythmic yet chaotic hammer of his heart against his ribs. As if it were trying with all its might not to break his own bones clean in two and lurch from its enclosure of flesh and bone.

“And why not?” This was a devils game of chess. Careful calculated words from loose tongues and taking each other's moves in as you exhaled a counter. And oy had him three moves from checkmate. His king weak in defence, your advances stronger by each word that fell into his eras from your red painted, enticing lips. He could feel his limbs being string up for you to pull at like a puppeteer in an advanced level of her craft. But he was no kind man. His words were even less forgiving than his disposition.

“Because I aint a kind man. Haven't been for a long while. And I know types of things a man like me would wanna do to a pretty girl like you.”

“I doubt it would be anything new.” You cooed, watching your finger as it traced a line lower over his buttons, stopping at the top of his belt buckle and just shy of teasing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

The tension between you was thicker than molasses. And it seeped through the cracks of his better judgement to the part of him that hungered for touch. That was ravenous for a single one of your fingers.

“I don't think Johnny would like that.”

“And I didnt like the way he spoke to me earlier.” You pouted. The way a child would when dined a sweet treat before dinnertime.

“That aint a good reason to start an affair with me. Because when i get my grubby hands on ya there ain't no going back, doll.”

His words were enticing you more. To have a man obsessing over your body. Your curves. Your voice singing his name as he fucked you dirtier than anyone into anything. Joel was that man now. He knew it in the very marrow of your bones that you were trouble. His new little minx. So it was no surprise when his lips crushed yours under the full weight of his sexual frustration.

It was needy. Heated. A clashing of tongues and teeth as he pressed you with his entire simmering being into the wood of the door. His bulge grinding desperately into your thich that parted his legs.

His tongue swiped your lower lip before drawing it back between his teeth for him to suckle on until it tingled deliciously. He was jealous with his touches. Groping your hips as the sating of your dress that crumpled to the floor. It revealed sweet sweet skin. Skin Joel wasted no time in delving in for the first damning lick. A pleasure to every sense. Sight, taste, touch, smell, sound.

Heavy breaths were exhaled into the dewy skin of your clavicle, tongue languidly sliding over the high points of your collarbones and enclosing in a sharp suck over the skin just above your right breast. It sent a chorus of heavenly sinful, light and airy monas from your mouth and floated into his ears. His lips were chapped and weathered in contrast to the silk smooth of your skin. It was delightful.

He went lower, got to his knees as he drank up the sense of a woman's skin for the first time in years. This was the taste of true damnation. He was past the opening of hell's gates and somehow found heaven in the parting of your thighs down the newly trodden path of your navel.

He pressed his open mouth to your clothed cunt, tasted the seeping slick you gave him on his tongue and gluttonously inhaled your musk right at the apex of your thighs. Your fingers tangled into the curls of his messy, wind wrecked hair. Keening your hips up to press into the curve of his aquiline nose, and riding the burning in the pit of your belly starting to grow. Your head fell back against the door. Your mouth unhinged and letting out moan after sigh after mewl of his name. His face buried between the meat of your thighs as his hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them so he could push his face deeper between your folds. Your underwear drenched and ruined from your wetness and his spit while he tongued your hole through the flimsy lace.

You pulled him back, smirked at the wreck he was with his lips sticky and shiny in the light of your dressing room. To then pull him up to your lips so you could curl your tongue into his mouth and taste yourself on him. It’s where the taste belonged. Among notes of whiskey and chewing tobacco and drugstore gum.

His large hands pawed at your hips once more, listing you so your legs could wrap obediently round his waist. That's how it worked now. He wanted, you gave. And willingly like the sounds that fell into his motu like sweet, freshly harvested honey. Ut had the feel of money. Powerful and green like spring leaves. But with the warning of rotting when summer meets its tragic and fatal end. It was like trying to cross a canyon with a broken limb. Near impossible. The last sip of a drink that would ensure drunken and slurred movements. It took even the nest of a man his entirety to deny you, But deep down, Joel was a weak man. Strong in body, maybe mind too. But weak in soul. And he gave in with the cashing of your back against the vanity mirror.

He had his faults. He knew that. And you did too. It had you wondering how a man like Joel loves. Did he change for his chosen lover? Or was he just as rough a callus as he was with everyone else. Would he destroy and ache and leave you wondering when your body would be at his whim next and how he would bend it to his will. Or would he let you lean into his embrace as he kissed down the column of your throat to the holy entitled epiphany between your thighs. The glisten of your hot cunt aching to be touched by anything. His everything.

So you reached for his belt. So you undid it along with his buttons to touch his heated skin, To feel the blood flow beneath as the strain of each of his muscles. You ran a hand across his chest and he let his head fall back as a woman touched him for the first time as a man of war. A veteran.

He felt like he had been cast in gold by the sun for the first time in his life. Shed his skin for a new layer reserved just for you. As if he was thanking whatever resided up there for you. He was no believer in god, but, Jesus Christ, he was starting to believe in some form of higher power. You were proof that there was a blessing for him to steal away from the world. It was in your sound. Your taste. Your touch. It beckoned him the way your finger did, curling into the collar of his shirt to clash your lips with his and let. He had no autonomy over the moan that fell into his mouth where it festered at the back of his throat and was swallowed with a desperate and heady inhale.

You trod roads into his skin with your touch. Ones he knew he would follow later that night in an erotomaniac’s pleasure. And you finally pulled his length free from his trousers. Your underwear was soon to follow and your slick aided the way he managed to sink so smoothly into your sopping heat. A squeeze he would commit to memory and savour like the taste of fresh and ripe fruit. Because you were. Fresh and youthful in age. Ready to be devoured to the core as a gleaning red apple would be. The very same one that even took in the garden of eden. Temptation. Fruit flesh to signify sin.

He took his first bite out of you with a satisfying crunch. And keep devouring until there was nothing left but the remnants of your birth, ready to be resurrected, grown again in the form of a new tree.

He stilled once he bottomed out, letting himself bask in the moment. The first time he was nestled deeply in the walls of your cunt. He heard your quiet whimpers for him to move. Felt the way your pert nipples brushed his sweat slicked skin. It was a ghost of a memory the last time he felt this. The heat of someone in the throes of intimacy. And it was all over him. It was the very air he wes starved of. The past was all paled in comparison because of the way your hips bucked pathetically to feel his thrust inside you. To get him going. No one had needed him this rawly, this undignifying before.

A single hand clamped over your mouth, stilling your movements. He felt the tickle of your exhale against the pinky finger.

“Stay still…” He commended with a swallowed down groan when you clenched around him, ironically repeating your words from earlier.

You looked at him. The glazed over, far away look in his eyes. His voice low and laden in a gravelly tone that came from the very back of his throat. You pulled him forward to lick it out again with your tongue when his hand fell to your throat. It gave a warning squeeze. And you once again canted your hips in protest.

This time he moved. And it was like poetry as it hit that toe curling spot inside you. Made your eyes close in blissful ignorance of what this would do to you. YOu slick drooling from your cunt onto his shaft until it shined at his very base and dripped down his heavy balls.

His hand squeezed your throat tighter. Had you yelling for him in a suppressed squeal. His other hand clamped around your mouth for you to moan into. Your words of praise lost on his ears, listened to by his palm instead. Every devil was fuelling this act of infidelity. This act of carnal sin you both needed. Ut unwound your bones, but had the coil in your belly cramping with each swift buck of his hips.

You met his swift thrusts in a desperate attempt to be of use to him. Finding it hard to breathe, yet alone Your cunt spasmed delectably. Searching for a new feeling. A feeling primal and dirty as the streets of Boston. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your legs trembled while he went on, giving you something you would remember from this day forward, A sentence of being binded to him.

You were in the arms of the devil himself. St his ,ercy. Nsd nothing felt more thrilling than the pleasure that rolled at a landslide's power and pace down your spine into your core.

Another squeeze round your throat. Another unhinged moan into his hand. He snarled, baring his teeth at you before pressing his face into the crook of your neck and biting down. Your eyes closed and painted a picture of stars. You were close to seeing angels by now and the deep ache of pleasure grappled your flesh and had goosebumps flicking up to attention over your flesh.

His chest heaved with each curl of his hips. Your exhales heavier by the second while you moaned his name like a mantra to his hand. His teeth imprinted on your back like a randhishing. A mark of the sin that was witnessed by the two of you that day. Your voice was shrill. A repeated ‘Joel! Joel! Joel!’

“Fuck, yeah, sing f’me doll. Sing f’me. Let em know who’s doin’ this to you.” He panted in vain. “Tell me.” “Feels so good–”

“Again.” He demanded.

“Feels so good! Too good!”

And it was. He had you burning white hot at the end of an illicit teather. You gripped his back with talons of hellbirds. Clawing at his shirt clad back. The wings of hi shoulderbales. The snake length of his spine.

“That’s it. Tell ‘em. Tell me! Tell me in making you feel fuckin’ good.”

“You are. Harder Joel.” His pace was like poetry. Ripped you in tow and had you displayed to him. One knee was hooked over his hunched shoulder, spine curled as his forehead pressed to yours. `The new angle had you singing like a songbird. High and melodic in tune. Your kitten heel slipping off and clattering to the floor without a second thought. The head of his cock nipped your cervix. The lewd wet sounds of your pussy smothering him in your slick and your shared moans filled the room. Everything of you was his now. You couldn't even think of giving this up to Johnny. Yes, he fucked you dirty. But Joel fucked you like it was his sole purppose of living. Like it was what gave him life.

You fell. You fell as soon as you hit your climax with a mewling moan that ended Joel right there and then. Coming together with heavy breaths and shaking, trembling chests. His release inside of you, strings of his come smearing you in him. Marking you for later. Well and truly ruined for any other warm body that dared to slip into your sheets.

But falling was not the problem. Only when you hit the ground is what causes all the grief. And the look you shared once the gold haze of afterglow faded was what confirmed this.

What have you done? How would you live without this?

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amatchinwater · 2 years

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Our Little Devil | Steddie x fem!reader (established poly)

Summary: you've always wanted to try a cnc scene with your boyfriends, Steve and Eddie. At a Halloween party, painstakingly turned on by their costumes, they decide to offer. How the hell are you gonna say no to that?

Warnings: 18+!!! Dark content! Explicit sexual content, CNC (consensual non-consent, no means nothing here, anything but the safe word will not stop them), predator/prey kink, knife kink (mentions of cutting, but only clothes are cut, no skin), slapping (face and ass), choking, decryphilia, spitting, oral (m and f receiving), face/throat fucking, spit roasting, anal fingering (f receiving), anal sex (f receiving), p in v sex, double penetration, unprotected sex, biting, bruises, scraped knees, stoplight system, degradation (whore, slut), orgasm delay (threat of denial), multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, use of "yellow" safe word, aftercare (IT'S 👏IM👏POR👏TANT), Daddy Kink, Master Kink (play to Eddie being dungeon master), underage drinking, mask kink (if you squint), mean!steddie, dom!steddie, sub(ish)reader, soft!steddie, minor injury (scraped knees and a too hard bite)

Words: 6895

a/n: I cannot stress this enough, heed the fucking warnings. Please. I cannot stop your consumption of this fic, but you were thoroughly warned. Requested by the wonderful @e0509 you're a sweetheart to talk to and thank you so much for coming to me with this, I had so much fun with it!

Requests are open, Steve included! Master list

Not my gif! Credit to creator!!

Growing up, Halloween was always your favorite holiday. A chance to dress up as whatever you wanted. To be someone else for a time. Granted, being at a party at some dude’s house you don’t even know the name of, wasn’t exactly on your list of things you’d like to be doing tonight. Yet, here you are. You’d much rather be curled up with Eddie and Steve binging horror movies at any of your places. That sounds like a much better night than this.

Though it isn’t all bad.

The punch is mixed well enough that after your first cup, your anxieties about being here have all but melted away. And your boyfriends. Good god, your boyfriends. Eddie decided to go as Freddy Kreuger this year; your favorite horror villain. Steve is dressed as his counterpart; Jason. While you went a little more simple, a skin tight, sparkly red dress with horns and a tail. If anyone wants to make a dig at Eddie being a satan worshiper, you’re right there as the devil herself to prove that there is, in fact, one devil Eddie gives his full attention to.

You can’t even begin to deny the way that the two of them being dressed up is making you feel. Steve’s mask only comes up when he’s taking a drink of something or to wink at you from across the house. And fucking hell if that damned mask isn’t doing things to you. Or the clawed glove on Eddie’s hand as he covertly slides a bag to another teenager, accepting the money in return. Usually, you’re pretty good about containing yourself in public. Blame it on the drink coursing through your system if you want to, but you want your boys.

Bad.

Standing off near the bottom of the staircase nursing your second drink of the night, your eyes scan the crowd until you find one of them. Eddie only left you to sell some drugs to a boy dressed as a zombie because you were directly in Steve’s line of sight from the kitchen. Finding him certainly didn’t help the growing ache between your legs. He pulls the mask up to rest on the top of his head, opening a bottle of water and downing the contents. Your eyes get hazy and hooded as you watch his throat bob with his swallows.

The little trickle of liquid that slides out of the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin only makes matters worse. Then the fucker grins to himself, licking off what he can, fingers catching the rest before licking them clean. It’s like he knows you can see him and is putting on a show for you. Watching Steve has you in such a trance that you don’t even notice your other boyfriend coming back over to you.

“Tell me something, little devil,” Eddie’s voice in your ear startles you, sloshing your drink, nearly spilling it. His clawed hand wraps around your waist, keeping you grounded, his thumb stroking an apology onto your side for scaring you. “Are you just going to fuck him with your eyes all night?”

“N-no,” you stammer out, having been caught. Not even a little surprised that if anyone was going to notice you drooling over Steve that it’d be Eddie.

“No?” Eddie asks in disbelief, giving an offhand hum that you’re not quite sure of its meaning. Then he whistles, loud enough to be heard over the music and Steve’s eyes snap in your direction, eyebrows pinching together, mouthing what. Eddie beckons him over with one finger. You don’t need to see Eddie’s face to know he’s grinning wickedly.

You can only watch as Steve makes his way through the sea of bodies in the living room that connects the kitchen to where you and Eddie are. When he reaches you, Steve leans over to give Eddie a quick kiss, the three of you long since stopped caring about what other people thought of your relationship. “Hey there, gorgeous,” he murmurs before his lips claim yours as well. Thinking you’d get off with a short one like Eddie is proven wrong when he presses into your back, belt digging into your ass, pushing your chest into Steve and you whine into the kiss. “Oh,” he pulls back with a snicker, “is our pretty girl horny already?”

Already meaning that you simply couldn’t help yourself and jumped their bones before you’d even left for the party. Your mouth opens, ready to lie through your teeth.

“She totally is,” Eddie answers for you, “couldn’t keep her eyes off you.” Punctuating each word with a tap up your spine.

“That so?” Steve asks, hands gripping your hips, a moan escaping your lips as your heavy eyes flutter. Cooing, “aww, baby,” he leans into you, pushing you against Eddie even more, “want us to help you with that, princess?”

“We’re a-at a party,” you say, not too keen on someone you don’t know walking in on the three of you like that. And again, you don’t even know the person that lives here, finding some room in their house to fuck doesn’t really sound appealing. You’d much rather do this at home. Or the van. Anywhere but this house, honestly.

Eddie’s free hand comes up to your throat, forcing eye contact with Steve, and he licks the shell of your ear, whispering, “we can leave right now.” They’re many things, but making you uncomfortable isn’t one of them. Everything they do to you is with your explicit consent, even after being together all this time. “Just say the word and your villains will whisk you away,” the grip on your throat tightens.

You’ve done a few roleplaying scenarios before and the idea of them playing into their costumes causes your pussy to throb, clenching around nothing, arousal soaking into your thin panties. Your breath hitches in your throat at the way Eddie growls in your ear and Steve’s eyes darken with lust.

“Wanna be our victim, little devil?” Steve asks, his fingers digging into your hips enough to bruise. “Let us do whatever we want?”

Eyes glazed over with need, you nod.

“Being our victim might be a little too much for her, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles darkly behind you. “I don’t think she can handle us at our worst. Doing whatever we want,” he grinds his hips into your ass, “no matter what she says otherwise. Taking what we want, where we want, how we want.” His words punctuated with a nip behind your ear. You know for a fact that isn’t true, that it’s just for show. That if you said your safe word, they would stop immediately. Without question.

So you huff indignantly at the clear challenge from Eddie, seeing if you’re truly ready, “I’m not made of glass, you know.” You’d been the one to bring up consensual non-consent in the past, just never had a chance to try it out. Eddie proudly laughs behind you.

They’re silent for a moment, clearly having some conversation you’re not meant to be a part of. Your only indication is a few twists of Steve’s face, a nod or two, and a flick of his eyes past you both. Then Eddie nods, chin hitting your shoulder, saying, “oh yeah,” in agreement to whatever they’d voicelessly discussed.

“Wanna prove it?” Steve’s gaze falls back to you, stroking your sides, leaving it entirely up to you. Hoping they’re meaning what your mind is thinking, that you can finally play this out, you nod once more.

Eddie falls away from you, walking the small space to the front door before opening it, “run away, little devil,” he says, picking up Steve’s nickname. “Let us catch you and have our way with you?”

Thankfully, everyone in the house seems too drunk or into what they’re doing to notice, because you certainly don’t need to be asked twice. You give Steve a quick kiss to the cheek, smiling at you with heart eyes. Bouncing over to do the same for Eddie, whispering, “thank you,” before you take off into the night. Running down the driveway full of cars and stragglers from the party, across the street and into the woods with a smile on your face. Grateful that you chose to wear your red Doc Martens instead of heels, so that you can actually run and not hobble.

Your dress on the other hand, isn’t making it all that easy, painfully digging into your thighs as you bound blindly in the dark. Your eyes have mostly adjusted to the nighttime, but still, you come a little too close to tripping over roots more times than you’d like, your horns tumbling off your head in your haste. But the adrenaline pumping through your veins is totally worth it as you narrowly avoid a bush blending in the scenery. When your lungs start to burn is when you finally start to hear them. The hasty steps of Eddie and Steve chasing after you.

Steve, being an athlete, doesn’t even sound winded when he calls out, “come on, princess, you’ve gotta put more effort into it than that. Eddie’s gonna catch you!”

True enough, when you glance over your shoulder, Eddie’s only a few paces behind you, make-up wiped off his face. Teeth pulling off the clawed glove on his hand; hat either flown away or left at the party. His proximity is enough to light a fire under your ass, his hand reaching for you only to tear off the velcroed devil tail from your dress, even more so. Gone is your sweet, soft Eddie with dimpled smiles and firm yet gentle caresses. The only kindness left is swimming somewhere in the glint of his darkened eyes as he winks at you.

You’re so fucking turned on, it hurts. The rubbing of your thighs as you flee only makes it all the more intense. Scrounging up every last bit of stamina you might have, you push harder, your chunky shoes clomping into the dirt and leaves, Snapping twigs loudly, gasps of air heaving into your aching lungs. And then you’re falling with a yelp, crashing into the ground with a warm body laughing at your back. Your knee drags against a rock concealed by leaves, the sting burning enough for you to think it broke skin.

A thought you quickly lose care for when you’re flipped around onto your back, looking up at a triumphant Eddie. Toothy grin and grabbing hands. One finding purchase to pin your hands over your head, the other reaching into his pants, pulling out his pocket knife.

“E-Eddie?” You lock up, eyes widening as he flicks the blade out, eyes roaming your body. “Eddie,” you repeat, more sternly this time, using his actual name so he knows you’re being serious.

His eyes flick up to your face, softening just a touch, “don’t worry, sweet thing. Master’s not gonna hurt ya. Unless you want me to,” Eddie places a soft, reassuring kiss on your lips, checking in, “what’s your color, baby?” This might have been your idea, but that doesn’t mean they won’t make sure you’re still into it. It’s one of the many things you love about them. They know how to be harsh when you want it, but perfectly sweet because you’re theirs and this should be fun above all else. A play on non-con or not, they will always check in.

Watching the blade tease at the hem of your dress, you take a breath to clear your head, remind yourself that just because you’ll be saying no and fighting them, that it’s been consented to. It’s what safe words are for. “Green,” you confirm, nodding your head for good measure.

One simple color is all it takes for the proverbial mask to come back on, brown eyes hardening and with a simple flick of Eddie’s wrist, he slices the fabric of your dress. Cutting a sizable slit up to your hip. Making no means to stop, he brings the blade under the thin lace of your panties.

“No,” you struggle under his grip, Steve catching up in a leisurely stroll. Clearly he was willing to give Eddie first dibs on catching you. “N-no, please,” you whimper, trying to shy away from the sharp edge. A little serious, these are actually really expensive and both of their favorites, you’d like them to remain intact.

“Keep her fucking still, would you?” Eddie grunts from your struggles.

Steve quickly takes hold of your wrists, making a kiss at you. “Aww, she looks a little scared,” he mocks at your pinched brows.

Eddie presses his arm down on your hips, keeping you still as he slices the sides of your panties, yanking the scraps out from under you. “There, that’s much better,” he growls, rushing up to your face while you continue your struggle in Steve’s hold. “What to do with you now,” Eddie seems to talk to himself, dragging the dull edge of the blade along your exposed thigh.

Finally, you realize the mistake they’d made. They gave no care to trapping your legs. You’ll absolutely regret it later, but the way a twig is digging into your back only reminds you that you’d rather not do this on the forest floor. So, why not play the not-so-helpless victim instead? Pretending to buck your hips like you want him off, you let Eddie trail his free hand down to your exposed pussy, eyes fluttering at the delicate way he brushes your clit. Knowing that it will do more to your impatience to tease you than to just go right for it.

It’s almost enough to make you forget your goal. Swiftly, your knee comes up, connecting right with Eddie’s balls.

“Fuck!” Eddie groans, knife falling in the dirt as he falls off you, clutching his crotch.

The surprise of your action loosened Steve’s grasp enough for you to break free. Scrambling up from the ground, you take off, dashing through the trees at a breakneck speed. You barely hear Steve’s laugh before muttering, “I’ll get her,” and footsteps hastily follow after you.

A cabin comes into view a moment later and you race towards it. You might have been a little put out by it, but the cutting of your dress and loss of your underwear has made it exceptionally easier to run. Managing only just not to trip up the dead, wooden steps of the porch, you breathe a sigh of relief, crashing through the unlocked front door, slamming it behind you. You didn’t want to look to see how close Steve was, sure that it was your downfall with Eddie.

Inside is musty and stale. Abandoned long enough that it’s dirty, but not so long that animals have taken up residency here. Your steps thud along the floorboard, gripping the wall, you round the corner into the hallway just as the front door bursts open.

“Princess,” Steve’s voice stern and full of warning, “you know he’s not going to appreciate that. Running longer is only going to get you into more trouble.” Steve has always been the softer of the two in times like this. But not now, when all bets are off, are you going to be fooled by his words of caution. “You should let me find you before he does,” he continues, sounding like he’s getting farther away despite his shouting.

Using it to your advantage, you carefully open the last door on the left, hoping it doesn’t squeak. It doesn’t. Mouthing a prayer in thanks, you quietly shut it behind you, but when your hand encloses around the closet door knob, the one to the bedroom opens with a flourish.

“Found you,” Steve whispers, a devilish grin on his face, mask fallen off his head, “nowhere to hide now. You should probably start thinking of ways to apologize to him when he gets here,” he stalks towards where you’re frozen on the spot. Complete deer in the headlights when he closes the distance, hand wrapping around your throat as he pins you to the small door of the closet. “Don’t worry,” he yanks you to his chest, “promise I’ll make you feel good until he gets here.”

Catching up with yourself, you bring your hand to his throat, trying to pry yourself free, “let go,” you growl, thrashing your legs.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Steve kicks your legs apart, “I know your tricks now. So why don’t you just stand still like a good, little whore and Daddy won’t have to hurt you, okay?”

“Bite me,” you croak from the thumb digging into your pulse, constricting your airflow.

“Wrong choice of words,” he grunts, hand moving to fist in the back of your hair, dragging you towards the bed. All but throwing you on top, you get no chance to scramble away, both hands grabbing your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the bed. Steve drops to his knees, kissing up your calf to the meaty part of your thigh where he harshly digs his teeth in, making you cry out in pain.

Trying to push his head away only earns you another bite, higher up, his breath ghosting over your pussy. “Daddy, please,” you whine, finding it hard to pretend you don’t want this when your walls clench, needing to be filled. “No. Please, please, stop. Daddy, not here,” you groan, trying to push his head away when his eyes lock on your arousal dripping down your folds.

Steve doesn’t listen, nor care for your pleas, mouth latching onto your cunt. Warm tongue and breath making you see stars. He moans into your pussy, lapping up the wetness he’d caused, bringing you closer to the orgasm you so desperately need. Loud footsteps echo the small cabin and Steve chuckles against you.

“Where’s my sweet thing, huh? I hope you remember your safeword, sweetheart, ‘cause Master’s pissed,” Eddie calls out, stomping around until he finds you, “absolutely not. She doesn’t deserve to come after that stunt she pulled." Steve chuckles darkly, halting his movements and leaving you cold on the bed. Eddie brings him into a bruising kiss, pretending like you're not even there. Meanwhile all you can do is stare dumbly at their tongues sliding together to remember you have a chance to run away again. "She does taste delicious though," he groans, pulling away from Steve.

“She’s all yours, babe,” Steve waves his arm towards you, “got her all nice and ready for you.”

Cupping his chin, Eddie coos, “aren’t you thoughtful, Stevie. ‘Cause I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t pull some shit like that again.” Your eyes bulge, unsure of what’s about to happen, anticipation burning through your nerves. “You always said you’d let me give you a tattoo, darling,” Eddie stills hasn’t looked your way, rather admiring his pocket knife. “How about I carve mine and Steve’s initials into you instead? That way,” he rushes the space, face hoovering an inch above yours, “you never forget who you belong to. Color?”

“I-I-” your lip trembles, you thought you’d only have to feel bad about what you’d done to him later on. Or with a violent throat fuck. But this…this is different and you’re not entirely sure if you like it. “Y-yellow,” you whisper, eyes burning with tears, too scared to move.

Eddie’s face instantly softens, features relaxing until his brown eyes resemble a puppy dog once more. “What is it, angel?” He asks, rubbing soothing lines on your side with his free hand. Steve’s immediately at your other side, brushing the top of your head. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” When your mouth doesn’t form words, merely flicking your gaze back at the blade in his hand, Eddie seems to understand. “Too much fear for the first time?” You nod, tears spilling from your eyes at the action. “Say no more,” Eddie tosses the knife away, its sharp tip sinkin into the wooden wall.

“Do you want to stop,” Steve’s voice is gentle. The fact that mid-scene they’re both willing to listen to your wariness and ask if you’re wanting to end it all swells your heart.

“No,” you shake your head, wiggling until Eddie’s hips align with yours, “I-I’m okay now, promise. Maybe you can do that next time, Master,” you say rather than calling him by name. Wanting them to know you’re more than wanting to continue.

“Princess-”

“Daddy, I’m okay,” you turn your head to face Steve with a small smile. “All green here.” Aside from your knees stinging a bit from your earlier fall, with the blade out of sight, you’re more than ready to pick up where you left off. Your boys are more than willing to comply.

Eddie slaps your face before grabbing your chin harshly. Fingers pinching into your cheeks, forcing your gaze back to him, “good sluts don’t interrupt their Daddy when they’re trying to talk. You should know better than that by now,” he snarls, “open or I’ll do it for you.” You open your mouth as much as his firm grip will allow and Eddie spits onto your tongue, “swallow it.”

Pinching your eyebrows, you do as told. You love when he does that, but for their sake- maybe yours too- you don’t want to give in just yet. Play off that you hate it and struggle under his weight.

“She still owes you an apology,” Steve notes, “can’t keep doing stuff for her.”

With a cheshire grin, “you’re absolutely right,” Eddie drops your face, curling his hand in the back of your hair and yanking you up onto your knees. You hiss at the sting, thighs getting slicker from the rough treatment. “Get on all fours. Now.” Scrambling to do so, wincing through the pain, waiting to be told what to do, but they both just watch you.

“Master-”

That earns you a hard crack to your left ass cheek from Steve, “pretty sure whores don’t speak unless they’re spoken to.” It’s meant to punish you, but all it does is make your cunt all the more wet, thighs dripping with your arousal. Eddie scoffs around a grin, unbuckling his pants and dropping them along with his boxers, down to his ankles. “You’re going to suck his dick until he feels you’re forgiven, understand?” You nod, staring at Eddie’s bulbous head, an angry red and already leaking precum. Steve’s hand fists your hair, jerking your head back, holding your exposed throat, “answer me.”

“I understand, Daddy,” you grunt and he releases you, shoving your head towards Eddie’s cock. Licking your lips, you open your mouth inching closer, only to be stopped again. This time by Eddie’s ringed hand.

“And if you so much as think about coming with my cock in your throat, like I know you will,” Eddie bends down to be eye level with you, “you won’t come for the rest of the night.” You whimper at the thought, whispering your understanding to him. “I know it’ll be hard for such a needy thing like you, you just can’t help but come for Master’s cock.” Steve snickers behind you, now sitting against the headboard. “She loves your cock too, Harrington,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t you, slut?”

“Yes, Master,” you say eagerly, the façade of not wanting this waning the longer he keeps his dick from you. You’re almost certain he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to get you to break and beg for it. You’re about ready to.

“Good,” Eddie stands tall, gripping his cock, dragging it along your lips until they fall pliant to him to push inside. “Because he’s going to fuck your pretty ass while you choke on my cock, ‘kay?” It’s rhetorical, you know that, even if his dick wasn’t hitting the back of your throat and making our eyes roll back. You nod anyway, muffled groans around his length, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. When he starts to thrust, you fight the gag, but it happens anyway, Steve’s hands lifting the tatters of your dress. “Take it like the whore you are. Come on,” Eddie fucks into your mouth faster, harder, letting the room fill with his moans and the sounds of you slurping and gagging.

A muffled cry of surprise vibrates his shaft when Steve’s slick finger rubs at your puckering hole. “Oh, Eddie,” Steve moans, “she’s still open from before,” and he easily slips a second alongside the first. “Go ahead and clench around me, princess,” Steve laughs sarcastically at you, spitting on your ass, “it’s not gonna do you much good.” With that he scissors his fingers, pumping them and twisting to loosen you for a third.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie moans, pushing your head down on his cock as you desperately try to hold your breath. And to not come as tears burst from your eyes. Because you’re dripping by now, moaning around Eddie’s cock and pushing back onto Steve’s fingers. It’s bliss. The adrenaline from being chased through the woods is still tickling at the back of your head, bleeding into an over aroused state and you want to fall apart.

“Taking it so well. Such a perfect slut. I love it,” Eddie moans again, moving back only to thrust in just as hard. Your orgasm buzzes just beneath the surface, pussy clenching on nothing under his praise.

“She’s gonna come if you keep that up,” Steve warns, removing his fingers. You hear him spit, then squelching sounds as he lubes himself up. “Think she’s earned it?” He asks, talking about you like you’re not here to answer for yourself. His dick prods at your ass, teasing you, “whaddya say, babe? Shove our cocks in her and see if she comes? Or have you not forgiven her yet?”

Finally looking down at you, his cock half in your mouth and mascara running down your cheeks from your tears, Eddie smiles. Wiping the mess, barely, with a gentle hand, Eddie pulls out of your mouth and you gasp for air. “Are you sorry, baby?”

“Yes,” you rasp, throat angered from its misuse. “I’m so sorry, Master. I-I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, baby,” he grabs your chin, kissing you despite the mess. “Just because I teach you these things, doesn’t mean you use them on me.” Eddie’s teasing tone sends a flurry of wings in your stomach. “I’m very proud of you for learning. But you best not use that knee on me again or it won’t be pretty for you. You got it?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl,” he pats your cheek lightly. “If you come from this, you won’t need to ask permission tonight, okay?” You’re lit up like a goddamn christmas tree. Wound so tightly that a simple finger pressing on your clit would make you explode. Eddie rubs his cock at your swollen, slick mouth, mimicking Steve at your ass. Licking the dribble of precum from the slit, you nod. “Open nice and wide, baby,” Eddie instructs.

Steve presses a hand in the middle of your back, bowing it and you stick your tongue out. As promised, both of their cocks slam into you at once. Albeit, Steve being a little more gentle than Eddie, because literally tearing your ass apart isn’t going to be fun for anybody. It makes no difference to your pussy though, with a muffled scream, you come. Limbs shaking where they try to hold you up on the mattress, your boys setting a brutal pace. Not even remotely willing, or wanting, to gentle you through it.

Just as your second orgasm begins to warm inside you, Eddie yanks out, “fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep moaning on my cock like that.” You whine, tears sliding down your face again from the tingling sensation subsiding.

“Aww,” Steve grips your hips tightly, skin slapping against yours, “I think she was gonna come again.” He slaps your ass, reaching down to toy with your swollen, throbbing clit. “That right, princess?” Steve leans down to whisper in your ear, “was Daddy buried in your tight little ass with Master fucking your mouth gonna make you come again? Such a good whore,” he coos as your whimpering nod.

Tapping your tongue with the head of his cock, Eddie loses himself in watching it slide in and out of your mouth. The way your lips stretch and pull, quiver when you moan from Steve’s efforts. “Look at that,” he moans, your tongue swiping along the bottom of his shaft. “Go ahead, be our perfect slut and come again.”

“Come here,” Steve says, reaching out for Eddie. The way he leans over forces his cock all the way down your throat, face pressing against his stomach. Muffled grunts echo and you wish to all the gods that you could watch them making out right now. The thought alone and Steve still pressing firm circles at your clit throws you face first into your orgasm.

Suddenly, Eddie hastily pulls himself out of you, leaving you with heaving breaths and a following trail of saliva. “If I’m coming anywhere, it’s her pussy. Lay down,” he commands.

Steve pulls out without hesitation, laying back on the bed, propping himself on the headboard and pulling you on top of him. Seating you right back on his cock with a joined groan. Knowing what’s coming, you lay into him, spreading your legs for Eddie. “Look at her,” Steve grunts in your ear, hands coming up to palm your breasts through your dress. “Spreading her legs like a whore. You just can’t wait to have both of our cocks stuffing you full, can you?”

“You two make such a pretty sight though” Eddie remarks, crawling on the bed towards the two of you. “Too bad I can’t be inside you both.” Straddling his legs around Steve’s, Eddie slides inside of you in one swift thrust and you cry out from being so incredibly full. But it’s so fucking good. Throwing his head back in a moan at the way you suck him in, clenching around him so he can’t escape. “God, you two,” he groans, leaning down to kiss away the last of your brain cells, before offering the same to Steve.

“Speak for yourself,” Steve moans, bucking his hips up into you and you yelp a moan.

“Shit,” you gasp, unsure when another orgasm was building, but having one anyway. Shaking through it, you cling to Eddie’s arms, nails biting into his skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you ramble, moaning incoherent sounds, Steve circling your clit again. You feel light and fuzzy, out of it but right in the trenches. Exactly where you want to be. “Daddy, Master, fuck, I-”

“Would you shut her up?” Eddie growls, thrusting into you with abandon, your pussy fluttering around him. Aching and burning, but ready to give more should they ask.

Steve’s hand comes up and clamps over your mouth as he bites at your neck. Biting pretty marks along your skin; his favorite thing to do. Eddie’s hands grip your thighs, leaving his own bruises. Your favorite reminder that you’re theirs.

“You’re going to come again,” Steve tells you, his thrusts growing sloppy along with Eddie’s who nips at your calf. “Then we’re gonna fill these perfect holes.”

You’re barely here. Having let go to the sensations of your body and your boys. Screaming through your moans under his hard hand, nodding wildly as more tears spill from your eyes. It’s Steve who finishes first. With a particularly hard bite to the juncture of your neck, he spills himself deep inside your ass. The continued thrusts and lewd sounds do it for you and your entire body shakes, trembling through the shocks of your orgasm. Gushing around Eddie’s cock as he shoots his load in your fluttering cunt.

The moment Eddie’s head falls to your shoulder, resting against Steve’s, the hand around your mouth falls. Allowing you to attempt to catch your breath. You try your best, you really do, but you’re so fuzzy and they’re still inside you that you’re gasping in lungfuls of air that isn’t doing much. Nerves on fire and in sensory overload.

“Princess?” Steve checks in, carefully pulling out of you alongside Eddie. The simultaneous movement shoots right down your spine, oversensitive, you whine and moan. But it lets you take a proper breath. Shaky at best, but enough oxygen gets pulled into your lungs.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie tries, laying on his side for Steve to pull you between the two of them. Their arms wrapping around you, peppering kisses along your face and shoulders. “You okay, baby?”

Your breaths slow to a much more normal speed, but everything has left your body. Fluids. Energy. Brain function. Your eyes couldn’t open even if you wanted them too. You’re boneless and more than a little exhausted. You offer a weak nod, muttering, “tired.”

“My trailer isn’t too far from here actually,” Eddie says, “think you can get her there while I get the van?”

“I can’t figure out how to get there from here,” Steve rebukes. “I don’t know the woods that well. Can’t you just leave your van overnight?”

“No, not with how much shit is in there. I don’t want to leave her either,” Eddie says. “If we get the van now, we won’t have to leave her later on or drag her out of the house to get it.” Steve grunts behind you, nodding his head. “I’ll take her home, you go get the van.” Steve makes another noise you barely pay attention to, the jingling of keys floating in your ears. “Okay, great. Come on, baby,” Eddie gets up from the bed, hooking his arms under you, pausing, “give her your shirt.”

“What?”

Eddie groans, “you’re not coming with us. I’m sure you sprayed your shirt before we all left, yes? Exactly. So give her your shirt. One, she’ll be more covered while I carry her and two, it’ll smell like you. Might ease the fact that you’re not there.”

“Fair point,” Steve notes. There’s rustling and then his soft voice in your ear, “come here, princess.” Steve helps you into his shirt, the material falling past your ass, covering you enough as their cum starts to leak out of you. He leans his forehead against yours, “I’ll be as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak, vocal cords strained from the sounds you’d made and Eddie’s dick. “Love you,” you murmur.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” Steve tenderly kisses your lips. “I’m so proud of you, baby, so proud.”

Then he’s gone and Eddie’s scooping you up into his arms. “I promise, sweetheart, we’ll wait to get in the bath until he gets home, okay? I know you need him too.”

“But,” you start, clearing your throat, feeling floaty as you lightly tug a lock of his hair, “love you too, Eds.”

Eddie breathes a chuckle in your hair, kissing it softly, “I know, sweetheart. And I love you. Let’s get you home,” he says, carrying you through the house.

You fall asleep in his arms before he’s made it three steps into the woods.

“Princess?” You hear Steve call some time later, his warm hand rubbing your cheek. “Still too tired for that bath?”

“I tried to wake her up,” Eddie tells him, running his hand along your arm, “but she kept mumbling your name in her sleep. I wiped her down with a towel though to get the worst of it.”

“Thank you,” you grumble, half awake. Your limbs feel like cooked pasta and your mouth is sandpaper dry, smacking your lips as you try to speak again, “bath-” but all you do is croak.

“I’m not gonna make you leave her again,” Eddie kisses your shoulder before carefully getting out of bed. “I’ll get her a drink, you take her to get the bath going?”

Squinting your eyes open in the dim room from the light of the hallway, you reach out for Steve, who happily picks you up bridal style. “Thanks,” he says, Eddie smiling in response, kissing him.

“‘Course,” Eddie smiles, kissing him once more for good measure, rubbing the top of your head before placing a soft kiss on your nose. “Want a snack too? I can make you a sandwich or something, if you want.”

Your stomach answers for you, wildly growling, making our boys snicker at you. Fighting a giggle, you say, “please.” Closing your eyes and resting your head in the crook of Steve’s neck, “missed you,” you sigh, holding as tight as your weak limbs allow.

“I missed you too, princess,” Steve carries you out of the room, balancing you so that he can get the water running. “What’ll it be tonight? Peppermint and sage or,” he draws out the word, setting you on the toilet seat, “Lavender and honey?”

“Lavender,” you groan, already feeling like you can smell it, feel it seeping its way into your tired muscles. Steve kisses the top of your head before pouring a generous amount of soap into the tub, your squinted eyes watch bubbles rise with the steamy water.

You hum to yourself as Steve undresses down to his boxers. “Arms up, baby,” he pulls at the hem of his shirt, bringing it over your head. “Damn,” he mutters, fumbling with the straps of your dress that’s sticking to you like a second skin. “Want me to just tear it off? It’s already halfway there.”

Looking down at your dirty, tattered dress, you huff, “yeah, go ahead. It was meant to just be for tonight anyway.” Tearing the fabric, the dress slides off your skin.

While you both wait for Eddie, Steve takes in the small scrapes on your knees and tenderly kisses them, “you okay?” He asks, trailing his kisses up to the constellation of bruises his teeth and Eddie’s hands left on your thighs. Steve takes extra care of the one he bit harshly, small specks of dried blood where his teeth sunk in.

“I’m okay, Daddy,” you sigh into his contact, letting him take care of you. You’re not ashamed to call him that out of scene. It’s a comfort to you and you know it is to him as well. That someone thinks he’s worthy enough of the moniker, that he’s nothing like his own father. You’d call Eddie that too, but watching his reaction to being called Master is just too good to pass up. “Just wanna relax with you and go back to sleep.”

Eddie comes into the bathroom, balancing a paper plate with two sandwiches, one hanging out of his mouth, and a bottle of peroxide and water in his other hand. Passing the plate to Steve, he shovels the rest of his food into his mouth, swallowing thickly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but this is probably gonna sting,” he says, reaching in the medicine cabinet for some cotton balls. Steve distracts you by feeding you some of your sandwich and giving you a sip of water. “I’m sorry I tackled you so hard,” Eddie’s big, brown eyes meet yours.

“‘S okay, I liked it,” you offer a tired smile, chewing your food, happy to just be with your boys. You’ll take bruises and scuff marks for a night like tonight any day of the week. Taking advantage of your own giddy distraction of squeezing his muscles while mumbling, “my strong boys,” kind of deliriously, Eddie rubs the peroxide into your knees to clean the wounds and the one bite on your thigh that broke skin. The sting doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the actual scuffing of your knees had.

By the time Steve shuts the water off, your wounds are properly disinfected, sandwiches devoured, and the water bottle drained. Toeing out of his boxers, Steve gets in the tub, arms open and waiting for you. Eddie lifts you up, placing you in his lap while he takes his clothes off, careful sitting across from you. You groan at the warmth of the water, sighing in relief at the instant feeling of relaxation.

“You did so good for us tonight, princess,” Steve whispers softly in your ear, warm hands massaging your shoulders.

“We couldn’t be more proud of you if we tried,” Eddie agrees, fingers digging into the soles of your sore feet. “Promise we weren’t too rough with you?” He asks, moving his massage up to your calves and you groan, legs twitching and you hit the side of the tub. “Sorry, baby,” he snickers, “I know it’s not as big as Harrington’s tub.”

“Don’t care,” you sigh, closing your eyes and melting into their comfort. “You weren’t too rough. I would’ve said so, Eds. I know how to use my safe word,” you teasingly poke his chest with your other foot, earning you a nip to your ankle.

“You back with us now, princess?” Steve asks and you can feel his smile against your neck. “Mockery is always a good sign.”

“I’m right here,” you confirm, nuzzling into them, grateful at the amount of care they provide for you. The minute Steve’s hands stop massaging your shoulders to rub shampoo in your hair and Eddie starts to lather your body, you’re back to dreamland. Peacefully sleeping, knowing that your boys will take care of you and get you to bed.

---

Eddie tag list: let me know if you want to be added 💚

@only4wakingup @decadentpaperduck @wolfhrdds @live-the-fangirl-life

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 years

Text

Double Dating

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: voyeurism, exhibitionism, spitroasting, oral (f,m receiving), degradation, threesome, praise, creampie, face fucking, fingering, choking- probably some other nasty shit I missed lol

Genre: fluff that leads into nasty smut

Summary: You meet Wanda's friends at one of Stark's parties and two of them manage to catch your interest

A/N: This isn't edited, be nice to me :)

***

You hum along to your playlist as you clean up around your apartment until a knock on the door grabs your attention. You take off your gloves and head to the door. A look through the spyhole shows you Wanda smiling on the other side of the door. You pull it open and she immediately flings her arms around you in a hug.

"Y/n! Hi!" She says excitedly.

"Hey, Wanda. How ya been?" You laugh, trying not to stumble back at the force of her hug.

"Great! Gosh I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. Although, it's only been a couple of weeks since we've seen each other."

"A couple of weeks is too long." She huffs.

"Alright, well what brings you by?" You ask, finally slipping out of her arms to go further into the apartment.

"Tony is having a party and I want you to come!" She tells you.

"This could have been a text message." You muse.

"I wanted an excuse to see you. Plus I know you're gonna wanna say no and it's harder for you to do that when you look at me."

"Wanda-"

"You'll come won't you?"

"Why would I come to a Tony Stark party?" You roll your eyes.

"Because I'm asking you to? It'll be fun!"

"You know I'm not the party type."

"Come on y/n please? We hardly hang out and this will be a great chance for us to do so. Plus you get to meet all my Avenger friends."

"I dunno Wan-"

"Please? I came all the way down here because I want you to come."

"When is it?"

"Next weekend."

"Attire?"

"Cocktail!" She practically squeals.

"Alright! I will swing by-" Wanda is already celebrating her triumph before you finish your sentence "but only for a little bit."

"At least two hours."

"Two? I'll do one."

"Three."

"Three? That's not how compromise works!"

"You can't leave in under two hours are you kidding me? How will you enjoy anything?"

"I don't wanna go at all, an hour is more than enough for someone who's only going to appease you."

"I can't introduce you to everyone and spend a good amount of time with you in an hour."

"I'm not saying I have to leave after an hour but I am saying that once that first hour is up you can't complain if I want to leave."

"I'll complain when you leave regardless of how long you stay."

"You are so ridiculous." You scoff.

"You love me." She says throwing her arms around you again.

"Duh, that's the only reason I'm going to a damn Tony Stark party." You shove her arms off of you and walk into your kitchen. Wanda spends a couple of hours chatting with you before she heads off with one last reminder to be at the party.

~*~*~

When the weekend rolls around you want to back out before you've even left the house. You've donned a long sleeve floor length red dress with a plunging V neckline and slits down both sides up to your hips. Your makeup is just as bold as your dress, sparkly lids and bright red lips to boot, the look is finished off with a pair of strappy gold heels. You look in the mirror one more time after you finish getting ready. You look good, considering you don't even want to go to this thing you're impressed with the final look. You grab your phone and your gold clutch and make the drive to the daunting Avengers tower where the party is being held. When you exit the elevator to the main floor of the party the space is already beyond crowded. There are people everywhere and loud music playing through speakers that dot the floor.

"Holy hell." You say as you look around. How the fuck are you going to track down Wanda in this crowd? You scan the room once and make your way to the bar nestled in one corner. If you're going to make it through this you will need a drink. Maybe more than one, but one to start. You flag down a bartender and quickly order a cocktail, something fruity, but strong.

"Y/n! You made it!" Wanda practically crashes into you as she yells over the music. You knew it was only a matter of time before she finds you.

"I told you I was going to be here."

"You look fucking hot!"

"Yeah well, I have standards to uphold." You wink at her.

"Come! I have people for you to meet." She says pulling you up from where you're leaning on the bar and dragging you straight into the fray. She weaves through people with ease and eventually you find yourself in front of a redhead in all black. "Nat! This is my friend who I told you about. Y/n! Y/n this is Natasha." Wanda introduces you to each other eagerly.

"Black Widow right? It's nice to meet you." You say.

"Nice to meet you too, I've heard a lot about you." Natasha says kindly.

"Good things I hope? With Wanda you never know." You joke.

"All great things. She loves you." Natasha laughs.

"Well that's good to hear."

"Here you go Nat." A blonde man you'd recognize anywhere hands Natasha a glass.

"Thanks Steve." She says.

"Oh my gosh! Steve this is my friend y/n! Y/n this is Captain America!" Wanda says excitedly.

"Does anyone know how much she's had to drink?" You joke.

"Please, just call me Steve." He holds a hand out to you.

"Steve, nice to meet you." You say slowly, shaking his hand as you openly size him up. He's taller than you even in your heels, and his tight button-down shirt does nothing to hide his rippling muscles.

"Likewise, have you known Wanda for a long time?" Steve asks. He struggles not to squirm under your scrutinizing gaze but he can't ignore the heat in your eyes as you watch him.

"A few years, we met at a coffee shop one morning, bonded over a book I was reading." You tell him and he finally lets his eyes sweep over you properly. The way you stand allows one of your legs to peak out of the dress and Steve follows until the slit ends. He can't help but notice that it looks like you're not wearing underwear with your dress and his cheeks tint pink. A color that grows darker when he looks up again and sees the smirk on your face having caught him staring.

"I- I uh, I gotta find uh Sam but- I'll be back." Steve stutters out quickly before rushing away.

"What was that about?" Wanda frowns. Natasha glances at you curiously but says nothing as she sips from her glass.

"I'll be back ladies, I need another drink." You tell them, slipping back into the crowd to find the bar again. You grab a new drink from the bartender, intent on returning to the girls until a glint of metal catches your eye next to you. You subtly glance at the man leaning against the bar with a beer in hand.

"Staring is considered rude." He eventually says.

"Is it?" You hum, facing him now.

"From what I've been told." He turns to you.

"You're easy to stare at, you're- very attractive." You tell him. His eyes coast over you like he's done it a million times.

"Same can be said about you." He says, taking a sip from his beer. "That dress is something doll." He adds.

"Doll?" You smirk.

"It suits you."

"My name is y/n."

"Bucky."

"I have to get back to my friends, but it was nice to meet you." You tell him, taking a moment to place your hand on his arm.

"I'll see you again." He says confidently as you walk away. As you return to Natasha and Wanda you're tempted to ask about Bucky, but something tells you Wanda will take this and run a marathon if you mention anything. You the girls and talk for a while, Wanda introducing you to several of her friends until eventually she and Natasha pull you to the dance floor. In the sea of people it's easy to get separated as you dance and eventually a body presses against yours.

"Hello again doll." You smile at the voice in your ear.

"You found me." You joke.

"I told you I'd see you again."

"Like what you see?" You smirk as you continue dancing.

"Very." You resist the urge to shiver at the baritone growl.

"Good." You breathe out. When the song ends you move through the crowd without even turning to face Bucky. You find the girls again quickly enough.

"Oh my gosh where did you go?" Wanda asks.

"I just got lost in the crowd." You shrug.

"Are you having a good time?"

"Good enough." You say with a slight smirk at the thought of Bucky. "I need another drink." You announce, walking away from them again. At the bar you find the other man who has grabbed your attention tonight, Steve. "Steve!" You smile when you see him.

"Y/n- hello." Steve says with a stiff nod.

"Lighten up darling. You look like you're waiting for a drill sergeant." You laugh.

"Sorry. It's not on purpose- it's just..." Steve trails off as his eyes drift down to your legs again.

"Just what, Stevie?" You tilt your head.

"N-nothing." His cheeks tinge again as he avoids your gaze.

"Give me your phone." You tell him. He blinks at you, surprised by the request. "Stevie, phone please?" You encourage. He fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket and hand it to you.

"What for?" He frowns at you as you punch your number into the device.

"So you can call me." You say.

"Call you?"

"Well you keep jumping between looking like a scandalized school boy and looking like you can't wait to find out what's beneath this dress which- in case you are wondering," you lean close enough to whisper in his ear, with your hand on his chest, "there's nothing underneath this dress." You tell him, walking back into the crowd to find Natasha and Wanda again. One down, one more to go.

"Did you get a drink?" Wanda asks.

"Oh, I changed my mind. I realize I drove here and two drinks is more than enough if I'm to get home." You shrug. The three of you spend a bit more time dancing before you find a wall to hover by and talk some until you break from the pair again to track down Bucky using the excuse of needing the bathroom. Bucky is easy to find, leaning against a wall, watching the party.

"Hi Bucky." You smile.

"Ah this time you found me. Hi doll." He says with a smirk.

"I'm heading out soon. Your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Yes, your phone. So you can call me."

"How bold." He hands you the phone.

"Taking a page from your book." You punch your number in and hand it back, turning on your toes and going back over to Wanda and Natasha to say goodnight and head out, satisfied with the night's events.

B: Hey doll. Hope you got home safe.

I did, thanks for asking

B: Good. I want to see you again. How's Friday?

I'm free Friday.

B: I'll pick you up at 7.

Sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.

B: Goodnight

S: Hello y/n. It's Steve.

Hi Steve! Hope I didn't shake you too much tonight ;)

S: I'm recovering. Your last words were very surprising.

Good, that's what I was going for.

S: You are trouble.

Worried you can't handle it?

S: Who said I couldn't handle it?

If you can, prove it.

S: You're provoking.

Maybe. I'd like to see you again Stevie. Are you free this weekend? I was thinking Saturday night.

S: I can make that work. Where should I meet you?

I'll send you a location on Saturday ;)

S: That's a bit last minute.

It'll be fun Stevie, trust me.

You don't wait for Steve to respond before you get ready for bed and go to sleep feeling pleased with securing dates from both Bucky and Steve.

When Friday rolls around Bucky texts you at 7 on the dot that he's downstairs. You skip outside and there's Bucky leaning against a motorcycle.

"Hello gorgeous." He smiles at you.

"Hi Bucky! It's nice to see you again." You beam at him.

"Same to you. You look amazing." He says, openly checking you out in your spaghetti strap black dress covered in red floral outlines.

"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself." You wink at him. He's wearing a button up with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black jeans. "I wish you'd warned me about the bike- it's gorgeous but I would've worn something else." You muse.

"Sorry doll I didn't think about it."

"It's fine. Now I know for next time."

"Next time huh? Did I already earn a second date?"

"If tonight goes well you will. So where are we going?" You ask. Bucky swings his leg over his motorcycle and looks at you.

"You'll see. Hop on." He says. You climb onto the bike behind him and hold back a squeal as he speeds off. Twenty or so minutes later you pull up to a brightly colored building.

"Minigolf?" You chuckle.

"I thought, it'd be nice to do something a little more light-hearted than a stuffy dinner." He tells you, helping you off of his motorcycle.

"Sounds great! But just know you are totally going down." You tell him and he laughs loudly before he grabs golf balls and clubs from the boy behind the counter. He hands you one and leads you to the course.

"If you think I'm going easy on you y/n you're mistaken." He tells you.

"Good. I can take whatever you've got." You wink and Bucky's eyes flash as he contemplates the double meaning in your words.

"Careful what you wish for doll." He says quietly as you enter the minigolf map. The two of you talk and tease each other through the whole game and Bucky eventually 'loses track' of the score.

"I cannot believe you lost track of the score!" You say in fake outrage as you leave.

"I wouldn't have lost anything if you weren't such a distraction."

"Oh I'm the distraction? I wasn't trying to be." You bite your finger coyly, leaning against Bucky's motorcycle. Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body against his making you gasp as he tilts your head towards his.

"If you keep trying to tease me, you're going to get in serious trouble doll."

"Maybe I want trouble." You breathe out.

"If you want trouble, you'll have to wait gorgeous." Bucky pauses when your bottom lip juts out. His eyes close as he lets out a strained breath, "don't pout. I want more than that from you, I promise it'll be worth the wait. You'll be patient for me won't you?"

"If you want me to be patient don't talk to me like that." You joke and Bucky laughs, finally letting you go.

"Alright doll, let's get you home before one of us goes further than we plan to." He kisses your cheek and climbs onto the bike. You get on and wrap your arms around him tightly and he takes you home, with one last kiss and a promise to see you again soon. You're practically floating as you get ready for bed after your date. Bucky was funny and charming, you can honestly say it was the best date you've ever been on. You wonder how tomorrow with Steve will compare.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" You hear Steve's voice before you see him.

"Steve! Hi!" You smile as he jogs over to meet you by the carnival entry.

"Hi, it's nice to see you again. You look good." He says. You're wearing a black suspender skirt with a white off shoulder t-shirt.

"Thanks! So do you." You tell him. His outfit is simple, a t-shirt and jeans, but the fabric strains against his muscles in a way you could never get tired of.

"A carnival? I don't think I've been to one of these in over a decade."

"Seriously?! I love carnivals!"

"Well then let's go." He holds out a hand to you that you take excitedly, pulling him into the carnival and pointing out different rides you want to try. Steve indulges you with each ride you pick, he even wins you a stuffed dog from one of the carnival games.

"I'm kind of surprised you asked me on date." Steve says while you're riding the ferris wheel. It's the last thing you wanted to do before parting ways for the night.

"Why are you surprised? I- gave you my number before I left that party."

"I mean, yes, and honestly that surprised me too. I'm not used to people- you know, making moves on me." He shrugs, regretting this conversation already. He felt like he wasn't being talkative enough but now he's started a conversation surrounding his own reservations with dating and that's probably only going to make this whole date more awkward.

"You blush a lot. It's cute." You muse and his cheeks get redder at the compliment. "You probably intimidate people, that's why no one makes moves on you."

"Intimidate people?"

"Yeah! I mean, you're gorgeous. You're what? 6'2? 6'3? And you're pure muscle. No one's looking at Captain America and thinking 'he's so shy he probably won't make the first move'."

"So what made you think that then?"

"When we met you kept blushing and stuttering when I looked at you too long. You were nervous obviously, either because I made you uncomfortable or you were attracted to me. I just took a gamble that it wasn't the first one."

"It wasn't! I mean- you do make me nervous yeah, but not because I'm uncomfortable."

"I figured as much or you wouldn't be here." You chuckle.

"Right. Of course." Steve isn't sure what else to say at this point so he turns his attention to the view as the wheel starts its descent.

"Stevie?" You place your hand over his and he turns to look at you, "why are you so nervous? I'm not gonna bite you. Unless you ask."

"I can't think when you say things like that." Steve says and you laugh.

"I'm sorry. I'll cut it out. I'm just trying to help you loosen up. You're on eggshells and I don't know if this is your usual first date attitude or if it's just me- what are you so afraid of?"

"I don't go on dates, ever really. I'm a bit clueless when it comes to dating and you- you're so much bolder than I am."

"I can tone it down if it makes you too antsy. I want you to enjoy yourself."

"You don't have to tone down anything. We can't both be- timid. And, I'm having a good time I'm just nervous I'll say something stupid around you."

"You are just the sweetest! Honestly Stevie I don't think you could say something stupid enough to bother me. Everything you do seems so charming to me." You shrug as you climb out of the ferris wheel.

"Really?"

"Yes really. So next time relax a little bit."

"Next time?"

"Well yeah, I thought tonight went well, and- I'd like to see you again, unless of course you're not feeling it."

"I'd love to see you again." It's the most self-assured sounding thing Steve has said the entire night, and you're glad he's at least confident about wanting to see you more.

"Then like I said, next time loosen up." You say with a smile.

"Can I pick the next thing we do?"

"Of course."

"Then I will text you the details." Steve nods.

"Sounds good." You kiss his cheek and get in your car to go home. Steve is much more shy than Bucky had been on your date the night before but part of you appreciates the contrast between the two.

It goes on like that for a few months, dates with Bucky some days and dates with Steve on others. The more you time you spend with them the more you like them. You don't know what you'll do if you eventually have to choose one of them, you hadn't thought you'd like them both so much when you started this.

B: On a scale from 1-10 how busy are you today?

Maybe a 2? I was just planning on cleaning my apartment. Why?

B: Tower's empty. Do you want to come over or are you too busy cleaning?

Cleaning can wait. Give me 30.

B: Great.

You swap out your sweatpants for a pair of shorts that you couple with a light sweater that falls off one shoulder. Grabbing your keys and phone you make the drive over to Avengers tower. Bucky meets you outside when you arrive.

"Hey doll." He pulls you into his arms as soon as you're out of your car.

"Hi Bucky." You chuckle as you hug him back.

"I missed you."

"You saw me this weekend."

"Yeah well, I like seeing you." He kisses the back of your hand and almost pulls you into the tower.

"I like seeing you too don't worry." You laugh.

"So everyone's out of the tower. I figured we'd watch some movies or something since we've got the whole place to ourselves."

"Can I ask where everyone is?"

"Wanda and Vision are doing a 'date night' by going out of town, Nat's with Clint, Sam is doing- who knows what, and Tony's with Pepper and her parents." Bucky lists off.

"And you didn't have any plans?"

"My plans are with you." He kisses you briefly.

"Are you always this good at making girls swoon?" You smile.

"Just you." He winks, flopping down on the couch. You sit down next to him as Bucky flips through things to watch before deciding on a movie you don't catch the name of. Bucky pulls you practically into his lap as the two of you half watch the movie but mostly just laugh and flirt with each other. Eventually, the movie is completely forgotten when you kiss Bucky. What was supposed to be something quick turns heated when Bucky tightens his arms around you to deepen the kiss. You've kissed a few times already since you started him but this feels different. It's like Bucky is trying to totally consume you as his lips move against yours.

"Bucky-" you pant out when you're forced to pull away when you need to breathe.

"Fucking hell." Bucky says. "if you keep this up I'm not going to be able to control myself."

"You don't have to."

"Y/n- are you sure?"

"Yes- please Bucky."

"Now that's a sound I could get used to hearing."

"Take me to your room and I'll make whatever sounds you wanna hear." You say in his ear and he shivers at your words. Bucky's hands grab at your thighs as he stands and you wrap your legs around him. With you casually distracting him by kissing his neck as he walks, it takes Bucky a lot longer than usual to get to his room.

"God you are trying to kill me." Bucky lets out, tossing you onto his bed and immediately crawling over you.

"Not really." You say tugging him towards you to connect your lips to his again.

"Not really huh?" Bucky's lips trail from yours down to your neck where he finds the spot that has you arching towards him. Bucky decorates your neck with little blooms of red and your hands tighten against his shirt as quiet moans leave your mouth. "Fuck you sound so pretty doll." Bucky sighs as he leans back to tug your sweater off. "Look pretty too." He mutters, more to himself as you unsnap your bra, letting it join your sweater on the floor. Bucky's lips latch onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the bud while his flesh hand tweaks and twists the other.

"Fuck." You can't help but let out as Bucky's ministrations travel straight to your core and only fuel the growing heat there. Bucky quickly tugs off your shorts and panties as he trails kisses down your stomach and then up your thighs. He watches the way you squirm with amusement as he deliberately avoids the spot you're aching for him to kiss.

"Bucky- quit teasing." You whine with a pout. "Please." You add, fixing Bucky with eyes so full of want that he groans as he finally licks a stripe along your folds. He hooks his arms around your thighs to hold you in place as he devours you like a man starved. His tongue focuses on your clit, mixing figure 8s with sharp flicks that have you squirming against his hold. One hand snakes between your legs and the feeling of cold metal pressing at your heated entrance makes you moan loudly.

"Fuck- I love the way you taste." Bucky grunts against you, two fingers pushing into you with ease from how wet you are. You tangle your fingers in Bucky's hair as he pumps his fingers quickly, still laving your clit with attention from his tongue. It's too much too fast and you realize you're hurdling towards an orgasm incredibly quick.

"W-wait- Bucky I- I'm close. Holy-" Your broken plea does nothing to slow him down, in fact his fingers speed up as he grunts out a response.

"Let go for me doll, cum all over my fingers like a good girl." He commands before taking your clit fully between his lips and sucking on it until you have no choice but to do exactly what he said. You cum with a shaky whine of his name, body shaky even as you come down. Bucky continues to finger fuck you through it until your breathing slows marginally. With a tug on his hair you manage to pull Bucky up to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his lips and that only spurs you on as you tug his shirt over his head. Bucky clambers off the bed to tug off his shorts and before he can climb over you again you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

"Shit." He hisses, one hand instinctively tangling in your hair as you give him no time to adjust when you start moving your head up and down his length. A few minutes of grunts and expletives later he pulls your hair enough to get you to stop.

"Bucky." You pout ready to complain that he stopped you.

"Next time, you can do whatever the hell you want baby but right now- I just want to fuck you until you can't see straight alright?" He tells you and the look in his eyes is such a heady mix of adoration and lust that all you can do is nod. Bucky guides you to lay back by climbing over you and once you're in place, he slowly works his dick between your folds. "Relax for me sweetness." He tells you gently, though his voice is strained as he slides inch after inch inside you.

"'s too much." You whine out. You didn't properly look at Bucky's size when you took him into your mouth, you knew he was big but every time you think you can't take anymore Bucky pushes in another inch, and he's so thick.

"You can take it baby- I know you can." Bucky grunts.

"Fuck!" You fist the sheets beneath you when Bucky finally bottoms out. He only gives you a minute to adjust before he sets a rhythm of harsh thrusts that hit fast and deep.

"B-Bucky." You whimper.

"Fuck- that's it doll. Take this dick baby. God, you look good like this. And you're so fucking wet." Bucky's sinful words are pouring out fast and doing a number on your pleasure-hazed mind. All you can do is cry out his name like a mantra as he drills into you. You're so lost in what Bucky's doing you don't even hear the door open until a voice starts speaking.

"Hey Buck you said- oh uh shit. H-hi y/n." Whatever Steve was going to say is lost when he realizes his best friend is fucking the girl he's seeing, the girl they're both seeing.

"Say hi doll, don't be rude." Bucky says in your ear, hips not slowing.

"Hhhii Stevie, B-Bucky wait. Shit." You pant out, trying to get Bucky to stop or at least slow down so you can think.

"What's wrong? Don't like an audience?" Bucky taunts.

"H-he can stay if he wants just- i-if you're trying to give Stevie a show- we should give him, a better, view." You manage to get out. That stops Bucky.

"A better view huh?" Bucky pulls out of you long enough to maneuver you into a new position and before you can even process the change he's pumping in and out of you again. Bucky's picked you up and is fucking you with your legs spread wide, facing Steve who is still frozen by the door. "Is that a good enough view you think doll?" Bucky's voice is gravely in your ear.

"I dunno- let's, ask. Stevie? How's the view?" You ask teasingly. With Bucky, he always manages to leave you tongue-tied but Steve, Steve is so easy to fluster it bolsters your confidence even as Bucky completely controls your body. Steve openly stares at you as a blush covers his cheeks.

"Stevie, she asked you a question. Answer her pal." Bucky grunts behind you, his pace not slowing.

"It's uh- view's fine. G-good. I like it." Steve breathes out nervously.

"She feels even better than she looks pal." Bucky tells his friend.

"Stevie- come here." Your voice is whiney as you call Steve over. Steve finally moves out of the door and makes his way over to the bed. "Kiss me- please." You pout at him. Steve frowns, uncertainty clear on his face. Bucky stops and rearranges you so suddenly that you gasp. He's positioned you on your knees and himself behind you.

"Steve, our girl asked you to kiss her." Bucky says thrusting back into you. Steve clears his throat and leans down to kiss you, muffling your moans against his lips. The longer you kiss him the more confident he seems to get, his hand wrapping around your throat and forcing you up against Bucky as he kisses you. In this position Bucky's dick brushes against a spot inside you on each thrust that forces you to throw your head back with a moan.

"Fuck! Fuck you feel so good inside me Bucky." You whine, your head lolling against Bucky's shoulder.

"Yeah? You like that baby?" Bucky's voice is raspy in your ear.

"God, yes!" You practically shout.

"You sound, so... pretty." Steve says tilting your head to look at him. The way he looks at you makes you whimper desperately. "That's it sweetheart, let us hear you." Steve hums, placing kisses on your neck, leaving hickeys alongside the ones Bucky left earlier. His fingers trail down your chest, twisting and pulling your nipples in a way that makes you want to squirm, though trapped between the two men you can't move much.

"She likes that Steve." Bucky chuckles.

"Does she?"

"Yeah, can feel her squeezing me."

"Stevie, Bucky." You moan their names, an incomplete plea.

"I know you like hearing her Steve but you should see what else she can do with her mouth." Bucky tells him.

"What else she can do?"

"Show him baby. He deserves some attention don't you think?" Bucky says to you. You gently shove at Steve's shoulders to make him back up.

"Sit. Please." You tell him, letting out a moan immediately after. "This is going to be the most distracting blowjob I've ever given." You chuckle breathlessly as Steve positions himself on the bed, leaning comfortably against the headboard.

"Get used to it lovely." You can practically hear the amusement in Bucky's voice behind you even as he drills into you. You take Steve in your hand and lick the bead of precum from the tip before pulling him into your mouth. Steve lets out a groan as you bob your head along his length.

"That feels good." He grunts. You suck him off eagerly, humming and moaning around him as Bucky continues fucking you. "Shit."

"She's good isn't she Steve?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah- yeah she's good. Fuck and she looks gorgeous doing it." Steve moans.

"Doesn't she? Our pretty little slut." Bucky huffs out. Your whine at Bucky's words is muffled as you continue sucking Steve off.

"I think she liked that Buck." Steve hisses.

"I think so too. Maybe you should ask her."

"You like that sweetheart? Bucky calling you our slut?" Steve asks you. You blink up at him and try to nod as best you can with his dick in your mouth. Bucky pulls you off of Steve with a hand around your neck.

"I wanna hear you say it baby." Bucky growls in your ear.

"I like it. Like being called your slut. I like being your slut." You pant out, your voice sounding harsher than you expected.

"Good girl, now do what a proper slut should and choke on Steve's dick yes? If you do well I'll let you cum on mine." Bucky says letting go of you. You go back to sucking Steve off, swallowing him down as far as you can. Steve tangles a hand in your hair and forces you further on his dick until you're gagging. His hips snap up repeatedly and tears spring into your eyes as Steve starts fucking your face almost as fast as Bucky is fucking your pussy.

"That's it sweetheart, look so good with my dick shoved down your throat." Steve groans.

"Such a good little whore, taking dick like you're made for it." Bucky says.

"I think she was made for it Buck. Isn't that right princess? Made to be our perfect little slut, stuffed full of dick til you can't take anymore." You moan around Steve at his filthy words, the vibrations making him throw his head back.

"Pea- cah I cuh? Pea-pea-" You try to speak, though your words are lost with Steve shoving his dick in and out of your mouth.

"Sorry princess, didn't quite get that. What did you say?" Bucky taunts.

"I think she wants to cum Bucky." Steve muses.

"Does she now? Is that it baby? You wanna cum?" Bucky asks. You try to nod and whimper around Steve.

"You told her she could if she choked on my dick like a good little whore. She's taking this face fuck real well." Steve says looking down at you. "God she's giving me fuck me eyes. You haven't had enough yet sweetheart?"

"Alright princess, Stevie thinks you've been good, I think you've earned it." Bucky says, metal arm wrapping around your waist to toy with your clit. The extra stimulation makes you whine. Bucky's other hand grabs your hip to stop your squirming as he rubs circles at your bundle of nerves. You're so wound up that it only takes a few minutes for Bucky to get you to the edge.

"Go on sweetheart, cum for us. Let Bucky feel you cum all over his dick." Steve encourages, finally giving you a reprieve. You moan loudly as your orgasm hits you with Steve's permission, your hand squeezing Steve's thigh as Bucky fucks you through your orgasm. Bucky keeps going, even as the aftershocks of your release wear off.

"Fuck baby. You feel, so, fucking, good. I'm gonna fill you up real good princess. Gonna pump you so fucking full of cum and then Steve's gonna fuck it into you and fill you up again."

"God yes! Please- please please please fill me up Bucky. I want it so bad." You beg.

"Fuck I love the way you beg." Bucky grunts. A few thrusts later his hips stutter and still as heat floods your walls and you whine. Bucky and Steve give you know time to recover, the two of them exchange a look before they manhandle you into a new position. Together, they put you on Steve's dick and immediately start fucking you on it. Bucky's hands at your waist move you up and down on Steve's length as he fucks up into you.

"O-oh shit. Fuck that feels good." You moan. One of Bucky's hands goes back to your clit, playing with the almost too sensitive nub. Steve wraps his lips around one of your nipples.

"Go on baby, cum for us again. Give us one more and Steve will fill your pretty little cunt." Bucky says in your ear. At Bucky's encouragement your third orgasm hits you with a silent scream.

"Did she just-"

"Oh shit." Bucky chuckles and you force your eyes open to find out why they reacted that way. Your orgasm has drenched Steve in clear liquid. You squirted. "You made quite the mess pretty girl." Bucky says.

"I didn't me-"

"Do you think we can make her do it again?" Steve asks Bucky, cutting off your attempted defense.

"I think we can. I did tell her she only needed to give us one more though." Bucky says.

"Since when do you care about being nice?" Steve quirks an eyebrow at Bucky, making him laugh.

"Well doll, Stevie wants to see you squirt again so I'm gonna make you cum one more time for us alright?" Bucky hums, toying with your clit again. You jerk instinctively at the touch, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

"Come on sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum on my dick." Steve says.

"F-fuck- it's too much." You whimper, grinding against Steve as he keeps fucking up into you.

"Take it baby. I know you can. Be a good little whore and cum for us." Bucky edges, his fingers unrelenting as they push you towards another orgasm.

"Go on sweetness. Lemme see that pretty pussy squirt all over my dick." Steve grunts.

"I-I'm- close- fuck I'm so close." You whine.

"Cum doll, cum like a good little slut and Stevie will fill you up like your our cute cum bucket." Bucky says in your ear. You let out a curse as your orgasm washes over you quickly. "Good girl." Bucky hums.

"Fuck I could watch you squirt like that all day." Steve grunts. His hands tighten around your waist as he drills into you. "I'm gonna fill you up so fucking good. Pump you full of cum you'll be dripping with Bucky and me for days."

"Yes please! Please Stevie- please cum in me. Fill me up Steve please!" You whine. Steve pulls you down onto him harshly and you gasp at the feeling of his cum shooting into you. You fall forward onto Steve's chest with a sigh.

"You alright there doll?" Bucky asks, rubbing his hand down your back.

"'M okay." You mumble, burying your face in Steve's neck as you slowly come down. "I've been dating both of you." You mutter after a few moments. At this point there's no point in hiding it.

"Yeah we know." Bucky chuckles.

"You know!?"

"We're each others' closest friends angel, of course we'd talk about our dating lives at some point." Steve says.

"When did you find out?" You frown.

"We'll have a whole conversation about it when you're not barely staying with us." Bucky says kissing your forehead. You want to protest but at this point you're barely able to keep your eyes open. A conversation will be had, but first you need a nap.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #stucky x reader #stucky #stucky fanfic #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #stucky smut #stucky fluff

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belladonnaxxx13 · 2 years

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Master of Pussy

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, female reader, P in V sex, cunnilingus, unsafe sex, smoking, mentions of drinking, Eddie being a player

Summary: You and Eddie have been friends since middle school. When you joined the cheerleading squad, something shifted and you started to drift apart...one night at a party, you and Eddie reconnect.

“Munson’s here again,” one of the cheerleading girls said, a smirk on her lips. You followed her gaze up to the bleachers. Sure enough, there was Eddie, perched in the top right corner, staring down at you and the rest of the squad.

Putting it nicely Eddie had a…type. He had somewhat of a reputation amongst the cheerleaders. In this past week alone, you’d overheard at least three of the girls talk about trips over to his trailer. You tried not to eavesdrop on the details of these encounters. You’d known Eddie since middle school since he helped you clean up the mess of Sloppy Joes you’d made on the cafeteria floor after some of the popular girls slapped the tray out of your hands. You could still hear his words even after all these years. How he’d looked up at you with those big, brown, cow eyes and whispered:

“Don’t worry. Happened to me on my first day.”

Chrissy’s voice snapped you out of your daydream.

“You doing anything after the game?” she asked chipperly. Chrissy has been your best friend since you joined the squad. She had been a huge help as you adjusted to the world of cheerleading and popularity. She’d helped you pick out a new wardrobe, hairstyle and taught you how to properly do makeup. You smiled to yourself, remembering Eddie’s reaction when he’d first seen the new you. His eyes widened as he trailed down your figure across the cafeteria, shocked when you set your tray down at the jock table. He’d only ever seen you in baggy shirts and ripped jeans and this was…well, this was not that to say the least. He’d teased you about it after school, tugging playfully at your carefully styled curls.

“Who are you dressing up for, sweetheart?”

“No one,” you said defensively, swatting him away. “I just liked this outfit. Chrissy helped me pick it out.”

His cocky smirk faded immediately.

“Chrissy, huh? So, what, you’re like one of the cheerleading girls now?”

“Yes, actually. I’m headed to tryouts right now.”

He opened to say something else, but you brushed past him briskly before he could speak. Ever since you’d joined the squad you’d been spending less and less time together, naturally drifting apart. Now your only communication was an occasional nod of recognition across the halls.

Chrissy was still staring at you, expectantly.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You asked.

She let out a pretty peal of laughter.

“We’re all meeting at Chance’s house after. His parents are out of town and we’re throwing a party to celebrate the end of the season. You coming?”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

You knew your parents wouldn’t mind. They were happy you were making new friends.

“Munson’ll be there!” One of the girls giggled. You rolled your eyes.

***

“Damn, Chance is loaded,” Jason said as you pulled up to the mansion. Chrissy and Jason had picked you up at your house 20 minutes prior. Chance lived across town, so you were grateful to get a ride from someone who knew the area. The three of you piled out of the car and into the impressive house. The party was already in full swing, people were drinking, smoking, dancing, making out and everything in between. All of Hawkins High was here. Your eyes scanned the intense crowd, immediately settling on a familiar tall form.

There he was, surrounded by a group of girls from the squad, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One girl, Julia, was draped over his shoulder, twisting his guitar pick necklace around in her fingers. You felt a twinge of jealousy seeing the way he looked at those girls. He’d looked at you like that not too long ago. You found yourself wishing he’d look at you that way again. Suddenly, as if hearing your inner thoughts, he locked eyes with you across the room. Then, while carefully keeping eye contact he leaned over and whispered something in Julia’s ear, making her blush and giggle. He was messing with you. Bastard. You knew this shouldn't have such an effect on you. You’d never been anything more than friends. But somehow you found yourself longing to be in Julia’s position. You couldn’t do this anymore. The air was getting too thick. You couldn’t be in the same room as him.

“I think I’m gonna go find the bathroom,” you said to Chrissy and made your way across the crowd. You felt his eyes on you as you moved past him through the kitchen and into the hall.

“Hey,” you heard him call out behind you, but you kept moving, tears prickling in your eyes. You went into the first open room you saw, but before you could shut the door, Eddie appeared out of nowhere, making you jump.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with a shiteating grin. He definitely did.

“Shouldn’t you be heading back to your fanclub?” You said, strolling past him to sit on the bed. He followed you, taking a seat to your right. He placed a new cigarette in his mouth and cupped a hand to light it. As soon as you saw the embers spark, you snatched it from his lips and brought it up to your own. He watched you take a drag, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“A cheerleader smoking? Sure you won’t get kicked off the squad?”

You blew the smoke out in his face.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you? You never wanted me to be on the squad in the first place. Why is that, Eddie? Why can’t you just accept that I’ve changed?”

He took the cigarette back, eyes lingering on the lipstick stain your lips had left before pressing his mouth directly on it. He took a long drag and then breathed out, looking at you.

“What happened to you? We used to wrestle in the mud together. Eat sloppy joes. Have burping contests. Now it’s just…” he trailed off looking around the room. “It’s just different.”

He ran a hand through his mane and got up from the bed in frustration.

“God, Eddie, just because I wear shorter skirts now and wave a pom pom around once and a while doesn’t mean I’m a whole new person.”

“Ugh, please,” he said, turning his back and taking another puff of his cigarette. “I mean…do you even listen to Metallica anymore?”

He paused to look at you, tears starting to form in his eyes. He took your silence as an answer and started to walk towards the door. Your breath hitched, mourning the loss of the friendship you once had.

You had to do something. You took a deep breath and stood up. Well, here goes nothing.

“Master of puppets…I’m pulling your strings…” you began, your voice quivering.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

You cleared your throat and continued, gaining confidence.

“Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams…”

Eddie turned around slowly and made his way back across the room to you until he was standing you dangerously close. You closed your eyes, feeling his hot breath on your eyelashes. In a husky voice he completed the lyric.

“Blinded by me you can’t see a thing…”

Then, before you knew what was happening his lips crashed against yours. A small moan escaped your lips as his hands gripped tightly against your waist. He scooped you up, turned you both around and sat down on the bed with you directly on his lap. Your dress hiked up exposing your bare thigh. His ringed fingers dug into the soft expanse of your flesh. He played with the hem of your panties, pulling and snapping the elastic against your skin. You shivered at the feeling and he chuckled against your mouth. He kissed a path down your jaw and neck, sucking at a spot above your collarbone assuring it would bruise. Your breasts were pressed deliciously against his hard chest. Your breaths were ragged and shallow.

His large hand moved to your waist, the other one settling on your upper back finding the zipper immediately. With nimble fingers, he pulled the zipper all the way down, sliding the straps down your arms and peeling the dress off you completely. Eddie pulls away to take in your figure completely, gaze lingering on your most intimate part still covered with black lace. He sucked in a breath and shook his head, laughing, a little delirious.

“So this is what you’ve been hiding from me, sweetheart? Under that little uniform of yours?”

You kiss him hard and reach back to unhook your bra, flinging it across the room. Eddie’s eyes grew wide and you swore he stopped breathing for a moment. Then he laid back on the mattress, pulling you along with him and in a sudden display of strength flipped the two of you over so he was now on top of you, arms on either side, caging you in.

“I’m gonna take my time with these,” he murmured into your ear, eyes never leaving your breasts as he made his way down your figure. Your nipples were hard from the cool of air conditioning and he slowly brought his mouth around one, sucking hard at the most sensitive spot. You moaned at the sensation, hands gripping his soft mane. He palmed your other breast, pinching at one nipple while he gave special attention to the other. Then his mouth traveled lower, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your nipple. He made his way down your body, nipping and biting as he worked his way down to your panties. Your eyes locked as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly dragged your panties down your legs. His large hands gripped your thighs pulling your legs apart gently. His eyes traveled down to your swollen cunt and his breath hitched. He ran a finger through your soaking folds with an incredulous look on his face.

“This wet, all for me?”

You felt your face turn red, slightly embarrassed, until he took his soaked digit into his mouth and closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure. He popped the finger out of his mouth and looked down at you, breathing heavily.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispered and you squirmed beneath him. You felt his hot breath so close to where you ached for him and let out a breathy moan.

“Eddie, please.”

He flashed you a wolfish grin before hooking your legs over his broad shoulders and ducking his head in between your thighs, worshiping your wet cunt. Your next exhale was followed by a stream of obscenities. With just the flick of his tongue, Eddie drew out sounds of you that made you question how thin the walls were. Swirling and dipping as if he was painting a masterpiece in between your thighs. You felt your first orgasm of what you suspected was many, approaching as his tongue showed no sign of relenting. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears forming from the pleasure.

“Eddie, I'm about to cum.” you moaned. It was as if he didn’t hear you, his tongue showed no sign of slowing as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching. He continued as you rode out your climax, only stopping when you slumped back onto the mattress. Your breaths became uneven and pleasure flooded your body.

“God, Eddie…” you didn’t have words for how he’d made you feel. For what you were still feeling. He made his way up your body, capturing his mouth with yours before stepping off the bed and peeling off his leather jacket and throwing it across the room along with his faded Iron Maiden shirt. He caught your gaze as you admired his toned chest and smirked.

“If you keep looking at me like that princess, this’ll be over before it's even begun.”

He undid his belt and quickly slipped out of his jeans revealing a large bulge in his boxers. You felt your eyes widen. He followed your shocked gaze and chuckled.

“You sure about this?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus, Munson will you just fuck me already?”

He let out a surprised laugh, finally peeling off his boxers before jumping back onto the bed, caging you in once again with his arms. He pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths synching up as he carefully slid into you. You moaned, pleasure mixing with delicious pain, as his length stretched your tight walls. He rolled his hips, finding his rhythm and hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your head over and over again. As you felt your second orgasm approaching, Eddie suddenly pulled out. You opened your mouth to protest, when he pulled you onto his lap.

“C’mon cowgirl time to ride” he growled into your ear, hands on your hips, guiding down onto his cock. The intensity of this new sensation was almost too much for a moment. Your breath caught in your throat as you rasped back at him.

“Well you know what they say, pretty boy, save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

He opened his mouth to quip back at you, but you choose that moment to rock against him, forcing him deeper inside of you.

“Oh God,” Eddie moaned loudly, burying his soft curls into your shoulder. Your mind drifted to the partygoers outside and you wondered briefly if they could hear what was going on. You decided you didn’t care when you felt Eddie take one of your breasts in his mouth as you continued bouncing in his lap. The heat of his mouth sent chills down your spine.

“Eddie, I’m gonna…” you moaned, feeling your climax approaching once again.

“Me too” he said, moaning against your breasts. “Come on, baby.”

You bucked your hips against him and in seconds you felt your orgasm wash over you in waves. Eddie gripped your hips, riding out his own finish until you both collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. Eddie pulled you close, resting his head against your breasts as your hand stroked his soft curls.

“So, you wanna mud wrestle?” he said with a cheeky grin.

#eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie smut #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader smut

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otakween · 1 year

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Digimon Adventure V-Tamer 01 - Disc-2

Aww, no more full-color chapters this time around :'( it was fun while it lasted. I wonder why this manga never came out in America? I know Digimon didn't make it as big as Pokemon, but I would think it's big enough, no? Maybe they thought the alternate-world Taichi would be too confusing for kids which...fair.

Ch. 11

-This chapter was pretty creepy. The premise (a village going crazy and everyone killing each other) was already low key creepy pasta worthy, but the way the artist draws Zeromaru in crazy/brainwashed mode was pretty unsettling. Not to oversell it, in the end it's a pretty standard "teammates used against each other" plot.

-Something about an evil Patamon is pretty funny. He's too cute to be evil!

-I don't like Demon's design (didn't like his anime design either). The only part that's kinda cool is the "missing data" on his arm and mid-section.

-Seems kinda messed up that the digivice can make a digimon full instantly. Depriving your friend of the joys of eating :'(

Ch. 12

-Another Digimon World-like reference where Taichi talks about force feeding Zeromaru and not cleaning up his poop. Ah...so glad I never have to play that game again lol.

-Is Taichi wearing loose socks? Very 2000s of him. I miss that fad...

Ch. 13

-Digivice abilities so far: scan enemy digimon, transmit data to partner (commands, food, abilities). Seems pretty OP. I hope they don't over rely on it.

-There's a lot of Engrish in this manga ("deep saver," "wake up combination"). I wonder if the random "cool" English in manga motivates kids to learn at all...

Ch. 14

-This chapter was basically all gags and no tags. Just as useless as the Starmon episode in the anime!

-New digivice ability: it can scan books and then upload that info to your partner's brain. Again...kinda OP. Of course, they nerfed it by making Taichi's doodles cause trouble, so I guess it's fine.

Ch. 15

-Edgy rival guy appears! He kinda looks like a discount Killua. He doesn't appear to be brainwashed like Ken? Who knows though...

-TWO digivices!?

No but really, what's the point in having two? That's stupid.

-Another OP power added to Taichi's digivice: It can unlock any electronic lock

-So Etemonkey was wholesome all along!? :'( poor guy. Rival dude said his lifespan is like 120 hours!? Geez I didn't know we were going by game logic THAT much.

-Wow, Jogress evolution! I'm glad I'm reading this after Digimon Adventure 02 or else I might be confused by some of the stuff they're throwing at me with zero explanation.

-Rival guy's name is...Neo Saiba. How am I supposed to take that seriously? Makes me think of Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh!

Ch. 16

-Well that got dark pretty quick. Neo sacrifices a Metal Greymon for the sake of collecting data. The fact that the Metal Greymon's only reason for existing was to prove himself to Neo was really sad. RIP.

-So I realize that "Neo Saiba" isn't a first name but a first and last name lol, Idk why I thought otherwise. I guess I'm just so used to hearing digimon with two names at this point.

-Another digivice ability. Apparently you can use it to straight up kill a digimon? (Or "delete," as they worded it). I wonder if it's a real kill or if MetalGreymon gets to turn back into a digi-egg...

Ch. 17

-This chapter got a little violent with Zero bleeding from the nose and mouth and then ripping off Skull Satamon's arms. I bet if you were an 8 year old reading this that would be really intense!

-Apparently anger can give digimon a power boost. I wonder if other emotions have any effect?

-The official release actually ends here for volume 2 which seems weird, but it's because there's a huge chunk of omake materials at the end including C'mon Digimon! I've been reading the scanlations, but I think I'll have to buy the real deal to get that sweet bonus content.

#digimon adventure v-tamer 01 #manga #digimon #this manga's name is too long #shoulda just been called Digimon V-Tamer

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hero-in-waiting · 2 years

Note

I must ask about Angst Fest, and I'm also v curious about Perpetual Feeling

Angst Fest:

Okay, the basic rundown is this is the fic I work on when I'm feeling like I want the world to burn?!?! So, John Sheppard has Abandonment issues and its set post-canon where Atlantis keeps getting picked clean and everyone is leaving, because they're leaving John behind and its just him, Radek, Amelia and Atlantis. bc Rodney went on a speaking tour to try and pave the way to declassification and John feels alone bc of an assortment of issues.

And at some point an AI is activated and the Lucian Alliance attacks but Atlantis saves them and peaces out like the dolphins @ the start of hitchhikers guide, taking John and no one else. So NATURALLY most of Atlantis residents are like fuck this no, and go after him bc just bc John feels alone doesn't mean he is.

“I’m going to go and fucking find him, whatever it takes. Because that’s what John would do for me, it’s what John would do for everyone and I’m not leaving him out there,” Rodney said, throwing his arm to the side. “If I have to build a fucking ship myself I will.”

And they find him eventually but he's all sorts of fucked up and that's about where I've gotten to the fic but I love it bc I'm also working on a John & Jennifer friendship where they're kinda assholes to each other but it works.

John clenched his jaw. “When did you find your spine?” “Right around the time you lost your mind,” Keller replied, glaring at him. “You’re not stupid. You know what’s at stake and so I’m willing to bet you want to argue with me right now because you don’t want to admit to the fact that you’re getting old. And since I’ve known you, you’ve always thrown yourself head first into danger without a care to yourself as long as everyone else is fine. And now that you can’t do that, I bet you’re wondering what good you are to anyone if you can’t die for them?”

Also Jennifer is letting her "ready for me to play with your insides" creep factor out and its fun.

Keller nodded, grabbing the folder she had been carrying and flipped it open, scanning the charts. “I wasn’t old enough to do surgeries when I graduated so I went into PT for two years,” she said before raising her head and smiling. “Ready to get articulated?”

Perpetual Feeling:

It's my HP Harry/Draco Soulmates fic. The basic premise is a red string of rate where red string means you've got a soulmate, gray means they've been kissed and broken means the soulmate is dead and Draco had a gray line, and then it broke but it's not broken anymore and its slowly turning red so he is Confused.

It's set way post canon and Draco is a history teacher because he's not allowed to do potions and no one in the magical world would teach him so he started his studies in the magical world and so he's better. So he gets a job at Hogwarts and Harry is there teaching charms bc he doesn't want to fight anymore and its just a super sweet slowish burn romance that I need to edit and figure out if I wanna post or not.

And Neville is basically just giggling like a madman the entire time

McGonagall paused then and then seemed to pin Draco and Potter with a gaze. “I am sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy would love to volunteer for that job.” Longbottom let out a snort which he covered with his hand quickly, but it didn’t hide the sound of his chuckles. Potter paused in the middle of taking a drink before he nodded. “Sure thing, sounds fun, right Malfoy?” Everyone turned to look at him, and Draco nodded. “Sure, it’ll be good to see the students. I always did love the carriage rides, and hopefully they do as well.”

#i enjoy talking about my fics:|#me #writing

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halfbloodsnowy · 2 years

Text

Penance: Chapter 1

Archive of Our Own: Penance <- additional chapters

9:29 DRAGON - Kinloch Hold

Cullen pulled on his helmet, having one last glance in the mirror to make sure his armor was polished and clean before he set off to the library.

It was the first break of the day, his favorite, and he wanted to enjoy it away from the boisterous training yard, or Bran’s shameless, self-aggrandized storytelling.

At least that’s what he told the others, when pressed.

The truth was far simpler.

He only wanted to see her.

If he had timed it right, and he usually did, he'd be reading a book by the time she arrived. It was right after the Grand Enchanter's lecture, and just before the next lesson, and she always, always, made time to come to the library.

He'd read a lot of books since he came to Kinloch Hold, the libraries were vast and contained knowledge on every topic.

He had convinced himself he wasn't being inappropriate, he only spent one break a day here when he could technically spend three. He'd assured his friends, and himself, it was good to be well read when they asked why.

Books were an enjoyment for him, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

There was a fascinating section dedicated to the flora and fauna of South Reach he'd been interested in exploring. Whenever he managed to see his family again, he thought going hunting with Branson might be a fun challenge. He was probably old enough to use a hunting bow by now.

The apprentices scuttled out of his way like startled cats as he made a beeline for the western most bookcase. It had the best view of the door Amell entered from, and was across from where she enjoyed reading most.

He scanned the shelf, and found a book on Ferelden rams, flipping it open to the chapter on breeds found wild in the Hinterlands.

He wondered if it would be strange to hunt a nice pelt for her, perhaps he’d just leave it at her bunk in secret. No one needed to know it came from him.

And then he saw the entrance swing open, and a few tired apprentices sauntered into the room. He absentmindedly thumbed through the book as he watched for her, his stomach filled with butterflies and his breath short.

She finally emerged, and thankfully without that greasy Jowan this time.

His heart began to hammer in his chest.

She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and scrunched up her eyes comically before shaking the exhaustion away. It was… so cute.

Everything she did was.

Speeding toward the usual bookcase, her eyes aimed straight for the third shelf, he knew what she intended to read this time.

A collection of fictions, romantic ones, he had checked before.

It tickled him, considering how studious she presented herself to be.

He felt sweat forming on his brow and was glad he decided to wear his helmet today.

"Rutherford."

"Hmm," he responded dreamily, lost in his watching. She pulled a red leather book off the shelf and sat at her usual small table.

"Cullen Rutherford."

He scratched his chin under his helmet, his brain buzzing with something.

Amell had just opened her book and was chewing on the inside of her thumb, her eyes darting to the Senior Enchanters as if she were nervous they’d see what she was reading. She pulled the book closer, and leaned toward the wall, hiding herself.

He was quite enraptured with the whole scene, what sort of story was it to make her blush so furiously? He made a note of the book's location, he'd have to read it himself later.

He had thumbed to the end of his book on rams and was now simply holding it against his chest, watching her, imagining that she would blush the same for him and…

"RUTHERFORD!"

He spun to the voice, losing his grip on the book and trying clumsily to catch it as it fell, "Maker!" he sputtered, finally catching the book and slamming it to his chest in a panic.

His gaze darted to Amell, but her face was buried deep in her book, none-the-wiser at his scolding.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Knight-Commander Greagoir stood with his arms crossed, the vein in his temple pounding visibly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," Cullen said pathetically.

"Maker, have you gone deaf boy?" the Knight-Commander said sarcastically.

A few of the mage apprentices next to them chuckled at his expense, but Greagoir's icy glare silenced them immediately.

Cullen burned with shame.

"Good morning, Knight-Commander," said Uldred in his nasally voice, approaching from behind.

“Morning, Uldred,” said Greagoir tersely.

“Good morning, Enchanter Uldred,” said Cullen.

Uldred smirked at him as he passed by.

"Follow me," said Greagoir.

Cullen clumsily shoved the book back onto the shelf and followed the Knight-Commander out of the library. He was quite certain he hadn't been that obvious, but accidentally ignoring a superior was a huge mistake.

He shouldn't allow himself to be so easily distracted in the future, he promised himself that he would do better next time.

To his surprise, Knight-Commander Greagoir led him straight to First Enchanter Irving's study.

"Ah, good morning Greagoir," said Irving from his chair, his voice even more gravely than usual, "and good morning, Ser Rutherford."

"Good morning, First Enchanter," said Cullen.

Greagoir took a seat across from Irving, and gestured for Cullen to take the seat beside him.

"Are all the measures in place and ready?" asked Irving, closing his ledger and setting it to the side.

"It is on schedule for tomorrow," said Greagoir, "it'll be after Uldred's departure to Ostagar."

Cullen was sweating in his helmet, and trying not to tap his foot incessantly.

"Take that damn thing off," said Greagoir.

Cullen did as he was told, certain his crimson face would give him away.

Greagoir angrily sniffed, "I've received a complaint from Uldred that you've been spending far too many of your breaks in the apprentice’s library.

"Well, I… I mean… I enjoy reading," he stuttered.

“Every day?” asked Greagoir incredulously.

"You wouldn't be the first templar to eye a mage," said Irving, and he gave Greagoir a funny look.

Greagoir rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t… I mean I didn’t…” he said, flustered, he was never very good at lying.

“It's not appropriate Mr. Rutherford,” said Irving sternly, “I cannot have you threatening the chastity of young Amell—"

“Nor Amell threatening the chastity of young Rutherford,” Greagoir snapped back.

"I—I would n-never!" Cullen stuttered, his voice comically high pitched. “I swear it!”

He wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.

“Right,” said Irving. “What book is it that had you so enraptured in the library just now, I wonder?”

“The Rams of Ferelden,” he said pathetically.

“Riveting,” said Irving sarcastically.

"Alright, you’ve had your fun, I'm sure the boy has suffered enough humiliation for today," said Greagoir, slamming Cullen on the back comfortingly. “However, that wasn’t the point of this discussion, now was it?”

“Oh, I could go on a bit more, but alas, you’re right,” said Irving.

Cullen squeezed his helmet hard in his lap, too ashamed to make eye contact with either of them.

Irving breathed in deeply through his nose, intertwining his fingers and resting his elbows on the desk, "Amell's Harrowing is tomorrow, and we have both decided you will strike the killing blow if she does not succeed."

"M-me?!" Cullen exclaimed, his head snapping up.

Irving and Greagoir raised their brows at him, and he paled, trying to act calm.

"I mean, ah, of course," he said.

"You’ve done well in the past assisting, now it’s time for you to strike the killing blow," said Greagoir.

“Only if she fails, Knight-Commander,” said Irving.

“Obviously that,” retorted Greagoir.

Cullen felt ill, did it have to be him?

How could he do it? How could he…

No.

He wouldn’t have to. She was an excellent mage, very talented, he’d seen her lessons, she weaved lightning and fire with more grace than some of the Senior Enchanters.

In his opinion, at least.

She’ll be fine.

Steeling himself, he sat straighter, squaring away his nerves as if preparing for battle.

He looked Irving and then Greagoir straight in the eyes.

"As the Maker wills, I will do as I am commanded," he said, his voice strong and clear.

Greagoir smiled proudly, and looked smugly at Irving, "I had no doubt you would."

9:38 DRAGON - Kirkwall

“Block! Block, Senna!” yelled Cullen.

“I’m tryin—” started Senna, but she took a strong hit under the chin and spun twice before hitting the ground.

“Oh shit! Senna!” screamed Paxley, dropping the training shield, “I didn’t mean to shove that hard!”

“Maker’s breath,” breathed Cullen.

Ruvena laughed.

“That’s enough for today, and get Senna to the healer, please,” he commanded.

The other recruits began shuffling out of the yard, a few hoisting Senna up and dragging her out.

“Poor Senna,” said Knight-Captain Ruvena, sharpening her blade under the shade of the Gallows’ archway. “You were distracting her, shouting all those commands.”

“That’s part of the training,” said Cullen, yawning and taking a seat far from her to sharpen his sword.

It had been over a year since Anders’ attack on Kirkwall, and things were still volatile, but there was some semblance of normalcy on days like this.

Ruvena lifted her blade up, studying it, and seemed satisfied, “Well, I’m done for the day, goodnight, Knight-Captain.”

“Night,” said Cullen, absorbed in his own sharpening.

The two Knight-Captain’s of Kirkwall, it was unheard of, it was ridiculous, but the Templar Order refused to promote him after the mage uprising, for failing to quell it and capture Hawke.

They were more than happy to continue piling on the responsibilities however, and he didn’t mind. He didn’t serve for titles, he served because he had to, because defending the people of Thedas against dark magic and demons was what he was meant to do, compelled to do.

His relationship with Ruvena had grown professional, and he was thankful. It felt better this way, no distractions, just the work.

Cullen pledged himself to duty, and nothing more.

He tested the edge of his blade carefully, he was tired, the dreams had returned to their normal levels of terror, but on some nights, like the one before, he woke with a lingering fear that just wouldn’t leave him.

Sheathing his sword, he’d need more than a soft bed to find sleep tonight, and so he set off for a drink.

Cullen took his drinks at the Hanged Man. It helped him avoid Ruvena, who preferred the tavern in Hightown now.

The free drinks for templars offer had long faded, and so he handed over his three coppers and took his watered down misery with him into the corner by the fire.

Varric had returned, but the conversation with him had been very quick, and pointless.

“Where is Hawke?” he asked.

“Don’t know, sorry Curly,” the dwarf laughed, exasperated. “I swear, I plan on wringing her neck myself the second she shows up, not telling her best friend where she’s run off to! Pah! It’s unconscionable!”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t arrest you now?” asked Cullen.

“Because I helped save Kirkwall from your insane Knight-Commander, and because you promised me immunity,” the dwarf quickly pulled out the letter, and upon reading closely, he had indeed stamped an indefinite agreement of immunity.

“That sneaky bastard,” Cullen muttered to himself, and chuckled at being outplayed. He had long given up on Hawke. He’d just have to bring order to Kirkwall himself.

He took a swig of the ale, and stared into the roaring fire. Tethras’ voice drifted down from the upstairs along with boisterous laughter, reminding him of better days with old friends long gone.

He chuckled to himself, remembering Beval’s laughter. He sometimes laughed so hard his drink would shoot out of his nose and all down his armor, at the most unfunny jokes too.

“Knight-Captain,” came a small voice behind him, and he turned to face a small boy.

“Yes?”

“My mama is sick, can you help?” the boy said, and held out a cup.

Who lets their child wander into a tavern in the dead of night?

He felt pity, and dropped the last of his coppers into the boy’s cup.

“Thank you!” the boy squeaked, and scurried to the next person.

Cullen sighed, feeling terrible about moping about a few nightmares when there were people starving and struggling to survive.

He finished his ale, and headed back to the Gallows. The walk through Lowtown’s streets had remained relatively quiet after the Guard and Hawke cleared out the worst of the gangs, but it was far from safe.

Cullen passed a group of people, whispering, and one of them was oddly familiar.

He walked a few more steps, his senses dulled by the ale, when his breath suddenly caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Him!

He spun on his heel and stormed over to the group, he saw black hair and grasped the man by the shoulder, yanking him around to face him.

“Knight-Captain!” the man exclaimed.

Not him!

“Oh,” said Cullen, “I’m sorry… I mistook you for someone.”

He let the man go, and rushed back to the Gallows.

You idiot, seeing things now?

He stormed straight to his quarters, ripping off his armor, and falling into the bed.

He was being ridiculous, perhaps the ale was stronger than he thought, what madness possessed him to think he’d seen Jowan? He groaned, and pulled a pillow over his head.

Would he never be free of the reminders?

The familiar scent of rose soap mixed with the sweat she worked up after her lessons teased his nose. He knew she must be on the other side of the book case. She had to be.

He pulled a book out quietly, and he could see her through the narrow space between the bindings. She chewed the inside of her thumb, focused intently on the book she held open with one hand.

Sneaking in reading between lessons, addicted to her words… it was one of the many reasons he loved her, and his heart fluttered.

Their eyes met, for just a moment, and then she burned red and crammed her book back, blocking him out.

A sadness washed over him, he needed to see her for just a moment longer, and unthinkingly his feet carried him around the bookcase.

“Amell,” he said. “Good m-morning!”

She stood facing him, illuminated by the mid-morning sun streaming in from the high windows, her hair was in a messy pile on her head and her hands clasped together below her waist, like the stone carvings of Andraste in the chapel.

He’d never seen a woman like her before, not that he’d seen many, and he felt dizzy.

“Good morning Cullen,” she said, smiling back.

Cullen.

He would replay the sweet sound of her voice, saying his name, over and over in his mind.

And when he’d forget what it sounded like, he’d come up with an excuse to hear her say it again.

Like right now.

Idiot, Rutherford.

“I, uh, heard you’ve been practicing fire spells,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, and she awkwardly scratched at her elbow, “same as always!”

“Right, of course!” he responded, laughing lightly.

They stood, silently facing one another for a moment.

“Oh, well then, uh, good luck, with that,” he finished, another awkward, small laugh escaping his lips.

“Thank you!” she said, “I’ve got lessons now, got to run,” she smiled and quickly rushed past him.

A fog of disappointment settled upon him, and he watched her leave, wishing he’d said something less stupid, something that could have kept her there just a moment more.

He turned to the bookshelf, finding the one she’d been holding.

Still warm, from her hands. He flipped it over to read the title.

Uldred’s Treatise on the Binding of a Templar.

His stomach went sour, and he flipped the book open.

Images, so many bloody drawings of his friends, of the walls covered in flesh filled sacs, bloody piles of offal, and her face at the center of it all.

He dropped the book, feeling bile rise into his throat.

“Not real, this is not real,” he started whispering to himself, turning to flee.

But she was there.

“Hi Cullen,” it said. Mimicking her voice, wearing her skin like an ill-fitted glove.

“Leave me, demon!” he yelled, reaching to draw his sword, but it was gone.

He fell to his knees, praying for the Maker’s strength, and guidance and then it laughed at him.

Like it always did.

“The Maker can’t help you, stupid boy!”

“LEAVE ME!”

Cullen’s eyes flew open, his body drenched in sweat and warm from the morning light.

He groaned, covering his eyes.

A memory, a real one, but turned into a nightmare.

He’d stopped taking his lyrium, as an experiment.

Stupid, so stupid.

It was just a few days in, and the nightmares were so much worse.

He rushed to the bathroom, hands shaking, muscles weak and sore, and he fished a prepared philter from the cabinet.

He downed it desperately, like a hungry pig.

The pain in his limbs slowly abated, and he felt less raw.

He angrily threw the empty philter into the basin, wanting to crush it into a thousand pieces.

If only he’d known what it meant to be a templar.

The Order was his life, and he was proud of that… once. He’d begun to have doubts, wondering if they were really doing all they could to contain the turmoil roiling across Thedas. Tensions were only increasing, more and more fights between templars and mages bursting into outright clashes at the other Circles. The rebellion in Kirkwall had frightened the templars, and their response had been to come down even harder on the mages.

As if that would help! He’d seen what happened when Meredith had done the same, and to say the Order’s response to the situation was disheartening was an understatement.

The loyalist mages in Kirkwall had begun to openly voice their disdain for the way things were going, and he was trying his best not to squash the little freedoms they had left, despite what the bitter, tortured voice in his heart screamed at him to do in the dark.

It wasn’t getting any better, and the Templar Order seemed perfectly content doubling down on cruelty to maintain the status quo.

It was becoming harder and harder to serve, when once he had felt compelled to.

But, with all that said, what had really prompted his stupid little experiment was a templar named Ser Ryan.

He had retired, a decade too late, according to Ruvena.

The man had suddenly failed to recall his own name in the middle of the party, confused why everyone was giving him congratulations and gifts as they sent him away with honors.

Cullen felt sick for a week after.

That was his fate, the fate of all templars, the last gift lyrium bestowed upon them all.

He shoved the fear down, and started his day feeling foul, as usual.

Training, reviewing performances, checking the lyrium stores and running issues by the Senior Enchanters. They wanted a First Enchanter chosen soon, he did too.

He found himself in Kirkwall’s modest library, driven by his need for quiet, or nostalgia, or an urge to cleanse the horrible nightmare from his mind.

Staring at a shelf filled with recreational novels, offered as a meager pastime for the mages, he pulled a red book off the shelf and flipped it over in his hand.

“The Mage’s Lover,” he read aloud to himself, and shoved it back, disturbed.

“Knight-Captain Cullen,” said Paxley, and he saluted him before holding out a small letter, “met a courier all turned around outside, said it was very urgent, for the Knight-Captain.”

“Thank you Paxley,” said Cullen, and he took the letter to his office.

Cullen poured himself a glass of water, still overly thirsty from his stupid experiment, and opened the letter:

“No major changes, Teyrn seems his normal self. Overheard elven ambassador call Lady Shayna by Kena—”

Cullen sucked in a bit of water too quickly and started coughing uncontrollably, his head throbbing each time, but he could not look away from the letter:

“—a possible pet name. No signs of magic or enchantment yet. All safe.

In Loyalty to the Maker,

C.”

Who was C.? His mind ran wild. Ruvena assured him everything was fine in regards to the situation in Highever.

So why spy on him?

He read the letter again.

Kena.

Heart pumping, his ears rushing with blood, he couldn’t fathom what it was he was reading.

Kena.

Her name written in ink, black ink, real ink. Not a dream. Not a nightmare.

Feels like a nightmare.

He exhaled, his body finally remembering to breath.

Lady Shayna Amell was called Kena, as a pet name? It made no sense.

He remembered the conversation with Ruvena, after her return from Highever. She’d been compliant, oddly kind, asking about his dreams.

No, asking about Kena Amell.

The fire in Denerim, the fire in the phylactery storage, he suddenly remembered the warning from so long ago.

Kena was supposed to be dead, killed at Aeonar, her body ash and gone. He’d made peace with that, at least he thought he did.

He read the letter again, body itching with adrenaline. Real. Not just in his head, not a faded memory.

But no one escaped Aeonar, it couldn’t possibly be her. He was getting ahead of himself. There was no proof, and he was riling himself up for nothing.

Except, it wasn’t nothing, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. What other explanation could explain this… coincidence. Were there two Kena Amells with magic? He’d only ever met one Kena in his life, and it was just far too…

“Amell,” he murmured, his heart battering against his ribcage, staring, unblinking, until the words went blurry.

He made her real, saying the name aloud.

Closing his eyes, he saw her, happy, then afraid, and finally dragged away.

Her voice, Cullen, fresh in his mind from the nightmare, and then he saw the demon wearing her face, and he felt as much fear as he did longing.

Squeezing the letter tight in his shaking hand, biting the inside of his cheek hard to quell the incoherent thoughts, his world was blurring, and he tasted blood.

Amell.

#amell x cullen #cullen rutherford #dragon age fanfiction #angst #romance #star crossed lovers #amell is not a warden au #all warnings apply just in case

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zenyukifanficblogs · 2 years

Text

Jennifer’s Adventures; The Start Of A New Life Chapter 25: Hospital Affairs Credits: @Aesthetics__

Junghwa’s POV

I was lying down in the hospital for close to a day already, going through all the scans, even a MRI scan which is seriously not fun at all. I am also wondering at the same time if the McForbes family will be worried about my disappearance.

I remember having Alicia’s number so I called her. But it was Mrs McForbes at the call. “Alicia is still sleeping.” She says. “It’s me…Jennifer…I have a headache again and my friend took me to the hospital.” I explained weakly.

“Oh my gosh!! JENNIFER!! GUYS GUYS!!”

It was a mess and everybody is snatching around to speak to me. “You scared us. We almost wanted to go to the cops but forgetting that we kinda took you so we just pray you’re alright or your friend might have taken you out for some fun.” Alicia says excitedly despite she just woke up.

Jungkook’s POV

“I’m visiting Junghwa after this. What should I do?”

I asked the rest as we are practicing Boy With Luv. “Tell her everything about why was she taken by her dear ex-boss’ twin kids and get her stay away from them for a good while?” Suga suggests

“Or don’t stress her out.” Jin says. “I agree about not stressing her about her ex-boss.” Jimin says agreeing with Jin

“Or just dont stress her out in general. let her ask herself.” He says.

We all agreed. “Let’s just get her some of her favourite stuff.” V suggests. We agree and went to the restaurant nearby buying some of her favourites

Once brought we take them to her, the hospital allows it to be brought in. She was quietly watching some shows when we came in with the food

“Knock Knock.” i say. “How’s practice guys?” She smiles a little asking us

“Good, just wanted to come by and visit you” I say as we walk in with her favourite things.

“I am only here for a day and it feels like I’ve been here for many days.” She says as she tries getting up

“Need help?” i ask. She nods her head and I help her get the bed adjusted.

“How’s your day?” I asked her. “Okay. A few friends called me and I just watch some shows” She says with a smile

“Good. Hungry?” i ask holding up one of her favourite dishes. She nods her head looking at the food.

I hand it to her. “Eat up.” I tell her as she slowly eats the food up. “Did you guys buy for yourselves also?” She asks us

I nod and we also get some food to eat. “Also did the MRI, they will only tell me tomorrow how it went. I am also thinking of Bora and Inhye giving them bonuses for putting them through such a hell week.” Junghwa then tells us the events happened to her earlier in the day

“People went out looking for you. Blake was the one that took you to hospital.” I say. “Some people also interfere in when they are in no place to.” Suga adds on.

“How so?” She asks him. “Have you heard of ignorant teenagers trying to be smart alec?” He continues. “You mean Christine right?” Junghwa asks him biting her food

We all nod. “Did she get into contact with you today?” I asked her and she shook her head.

“Good.” i say. “I was shown a press conference at the cafe a few days ago. Just wondering, will the CEO just let reporters in like that?” She then asks us.

“No clue.” Namjoon says. She was getting a little suspicious at first until I heard a water sound, we all went to find RM make a mess of the restroom and the tap is broken with water all over the place

“I’m going to find someone to fix that.” Jin says leaving the room. I just see Junghwa just giggling at the mess made.

I smile as she giggles. After a while of the mess going on, the tap is fixed and everything is cleaned up. Junghwa and I are the only ones left in the ward.

“Having something in mind?” She then asks me. “Besides giving you food and sending you to bed.” i say.

Junghwa’s POV

“And I want you promise me something.” My brother soon adds on.

“Such as?” i ask. “Don’t...i forgot...mingle too much with those people you’ve worked for before.” He says. “You mean as in my ex-boss?” I asked him

He nods. I think for a while especially after discovering who was behind the crazy conference Bora and Inhye are on.

“I just don’t want them on you all the time, not to mention you already left the FBI.” My brother explains. “You know this need time too right?” I then asks him

I nod my head agreeing even though he agree i need time for that. “Now, let’s forget about all this and bed time~” He cheers

“I’m not a 8 year old” I pouted at what he said

He just pouts as well. “Fine WE will be getting some sleep” I sigh giving him emphasizing the ‘WE’ more

“Okaie~” he sings before he puts me on the bed and we both get some sleep

#bts fanfic #fanfiction #zendayayukiko #jenniferadventures #kpop fanfiction #zenyukikpopfanfic #zenyuki

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henningsenbank58 · 2 years

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If you had a hard time purchasing vehicles before, it is time for you to educate yourself. It's about time you take in some information that helps you get the best deal. You don't simply have to accept the sticker price. Instead of fixating on the monthly payments, keep your eye on the total price. Dealers will do anything and everything to get you that monthly price, even if it means saddling you with higher expenses and interest over the years. Negotiate the best price total you can for the car. After doing that, you can work out the monthly payments. Get a third-party mechanic involved in your analysis of the car. If they refuse, go elsewhere. Mechanics provide you with a neutral opinion on the quality of the vehicle. Purchasing a vehicle from private parties is a great choice, but have a mechanic give it a once over. If the owners don't allow this, then it is best that you do not buy it. There may be extensive problems the owner is trying to hide. Do not purchase a car without knowing about possible mechanical problems. Bring a friend on your shopping trip. They can help discern the situation, and they can fill in whichever gaps aren't your strong points. They can be anyone from your Mom to a coworker. MPG plays a huge role in a car purchase. As an example, a V-8 that has the towing package might at first seem like a wise choice. But think about how often you truly require the additional horsepower provided by a V-8 engine and how frequently you will use the towing feature. When overbearing salespeople are difficult for you to handle, take someone with you when you shop. A friend or family member can offer negotiation help and remind you of important information you will need to know. Tell them exactly what you're looking to buy and how much you have to spend before you go. Never show up at cleaning services dallas driving a luxury vehicle. The sales staff will see that car and decline your rock bottom offers, unless the car is one you plan to use as a trade-in. Consider purchasing outside of a dealership. In fact, you may be able to buy a car from a used lot or private seller. Make sure you scan the local papers and social networking sites so you're able to make your search as effective as possible. You need to test drive any car you are interested in buying. Don't be so pressed for time that you skip this part. You need to feel the wheel under your hands and the road under your tires. During the test drive you may find that you either love or hate the car. Purchasing a car is a lot of fun, but it can also wear you out. It is possible to realize great savings of money and time by shopping for cars online. There are places on the Internet that have tools to help you find the car you need and want. This can help you narrow down the choices, which may save time and money. When you shop for a car, try taking a friend with you that does not wish to purchase a car. They ensure you don't get sucked into a deal which isn't what you want or need. They can even go on the test drive with you to point out issues they notice. Try the Internet when looking for a used car. This can give you the advantage of convenience. Try Craigslist, eBay and your local classifieds. This is a good way to save money and stay away from the salespeople you will find in dealerships. The goal of a salesperson is making top dollar. It seems to go without saying, but it is easy to forget with a charismatic salesman. Beware the extras and add-ons that can get tacked on at the end of a sale. Good deals can quickly become bad deals in this way. The next time you go car shopping, will you feel more confident? The advice located above will help you get the most out of your car shopping. You don't have to accept the first deal that comes along. You now know what you need to do to take control to find the deal that works best for you.

#apartment cleaning services dallas

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misora-msby · 4 years

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embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together.

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying!

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!”

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?”

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side.

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.”

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.”

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.”

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #money talk #hurt/ comfort #angst #argument #sheets

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