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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds.

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagine #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung fluff #ateez fanfic #wooyoung imagines

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader wc; 2.2k tags; fluff, coworkers to lovers? a/n: quick fic for my bby lol happy birthday tsukki <33

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tsukishima Kei was tired.

Stepping out into the cold, autumn evening, he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm his frozen fingers. He thinks the blister he feels forming on his pinky toe was a sign for him to get a new pair of shoes, and this fact was solidified by the ache in his arch with each step he took towards the bus stop.

The day had been longer than most. Maybe if he hadn’t let his brother drag him to the gym and play pick-up games last night, then perhaps his body wouldn’t have felt so sore this morning. And if his body hadn’t been so sore in the morning, then he might have had the energy to grab coffee before work, possibly even pack himself a quick lunch. His mood would have presumably been at least mildly better throughout the day, and he had no doubt that he would have been able to continue on with his work swiftly, and efficiently.

But Tsukishima had learned at a young age that things don’t always work out for him the way he wants them to.

He wasn’t trying to be rude when you came to ask him about his tour schedule, but did you have to burst through his office door so loudly? He felt bad for 2.3 seconds as he watched your smile slowly melt into a frown, but he was way too irked when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked you to knock.

And it wasn’t his fault that he bought the last tuna onigiri from the food stand outside the museum. He forgot to pack lunch, and he was hungry, too. He probably shouldn’t have unwrapped and eaten it right in front of your face, but he doesn’t appreciate getting dirty looks for ordering a meal.

You’re newer to the museum, he knows that. As someone with seniority, he should be a little more helpful, and he could probably work on improving his sociability just a tiny bit, but his patience could only run so thin. It’s not like you ever listened to him anyway.

Should he have told you to figure out the volunteer’s schedule on your own because ‘even a monkey with a banana could do it on their own’? Okay, maybe not.

But did you have to snap at him to ‘keep the stick up his own ass and leave yours alone’ when he warned your tours took too long, and you’d end up leaving late? No, and that’s the last time Tsukishima will ever try to offer advice to a newbie.

Tsukishima sighed. He was tired.

His stomach growled out loud as he pressed the button for the crosswalk, slowly moving to rub his palm along his belly. He’s wondering if he has anything he could make at his apartment. When an image of a rotting bunch of scallions and moldy tomatoes dying in his refrigerator drawer comes to mind, he thinks he’s probably better off grabbing a bento from the convenience store down the street.

The light switches from red to green, and just before Tsukishima steps down from the curb, he feels an arm delicately wrap around his own.

“Hey, babe,” a familiar, annoyingly cheery voice greets him, and he has to stop himself from grimacing when he looks down and his eyes meet yours.

Tsukishima doesn’t think you’ve ever touched him once — not in the last six months since you’ve become his coworker. He had bowed when you were first introduced, and Tsukishima had never been one to hand out hugs or high fives.

He attributes the deep blush that spread across his cheeks to this fact, and not to the feeling of your chest pressed tightly against his side.

“What the —“

“You almost left without me,” you pouted, and Tsukishima nearly tripped over his feet when you swing your body around to switch positions with him, “You’re so silly!”

“Uh,” Tsukishima stammers at the situation at hand, but he stills when he feels your grip tighten painfully around his bicep, and your eyes narrow and widen.

From behind your shoulder, Tsukishima sees it.

The streets were not too crowded, but they weren’t empty. From both sides of the sidewalk, Tsukishima watched as people silently walked past each other in a valiant effort to get home.

This was why Tsukishima almost didn’t notice the man standing beside the lamp post just fifteen feet back, his face half covered by a mask, hoodie pulled all the way over his head with the bill of a black hat just peeking out.

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold when he realized the man is watching you clutch onto him, and Tsukishima does not react when he can feel your nails dig through the material of his sweater.

A look of panic briefly flashes in your eyes when Tsukishima places his hand on top of yours and gently pulls your grip off his sleeve.

“You’re going to ruin my sweater,” Tsukishima mumbles as he drags his hand down the length of your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your mouth drops open in shock when he gives your hand a tight squeeze, “Sweetie.”

He doesn’t wait for you to regain your composure before he drags you across the street. As soon as Tsukishima’s foot lands on the other curb, he glances back at the direction from which you came.

The capped-man was now slowly walking forward, reaching the crosswalk just as the light turned red once more.

Tsukishima quickened his pace down the silent sidewalk, globes of orange light shining down each lamp post you walked past. You said nothing of the sweat that accumulated between both of your nervous palms, still gripping onto Tsukishima’s hand tightly. The size of it nearly engulfs your own, and your hold on him was the only thing allowing you to somewhat keep up with the pace of his strides.

“My bus stop is right over there,” you mumble quietly, and Tsukishima silently thanked the gods you were going the same direction.

He could feel your fingers trembling against his, and Tsukishima gives you a light squeeze.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He was never one to comfort another, and he had never really been in a situation before. But something akin to an ember of rage had been stoked within him as soon as he saw some strange man’s greedy little eyes stuck on you.

The bus arrived just five minutes later, and Tsukishima stayed close behind as you climbed inside. You were lucky enough to find two vacant seats, and you slid into the one beside the window. Tsukishima occupies the aisle seat, stretching his legs out slightly as he watches the stream of people entering and leaving the bus.

It was after an old woman carrying groceries clambered into a seat behind the bus driver did Tsukishima notice him.

He sat by the very front while the two of you occupied seats in the back. A pair of sunglasses now completely masked all of his features, but Tsukishima didn’t need to see his eyes to know who they were trained on.

When you look up at him, dazed and slightly terrified, he gives you a tight-lipped smile. He lets go of your hand, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your eyes dart around in panic. Wordlessly, he reaches over and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side.

You had always been so hot-headed — loud, and passionate, and animated about everything that you do. Tsukishima had known you were trouble from the moment you rearranged one of his displays without even thinking about consulting him, and you had honestly been a headache ever since. You challenged him at every turn, corrected him when he didn’t ask for it, and it was obvious to Tsukishima that you were much too big for him to handle.

But at the moment, feeling so small as you trembled tucked beneath his arm, Tsukishima could only think that he never wanted to see you like this ever again.

His heart crumbles a little when you rest your head against his shoulder.

“So,” Tsukishima’s voice vibrated against your cheek, “The tours ran a bit too long today, didn’t they?”

Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when you turn your head to face him, an incredulous expression decorating your features.

“Is now really an appropriate time for an ‘I told you so’,” You hissed, “You never miss a chance, do you?”

Now, a smug smile has fully settled onto his lips, “Never have, never will.”

You land a punch on Tsukishima’s wide open ribs, and he flinches to the side with a slight ‘oof’. But he tightens his arm around you even more. Swirls of pine and citrus began to calm your nerves, and it took you too long to realize you were inhaling Tsukishima’s cologne. He smelled as clean as he looked, and even after a full day of work, not a single hair of his was out of place.

Your stop was four after Tsukishima’s. He carried your bag from your shoulders as you climbed out of your seat. He stepped aside to allow you to lead the way, but Tsukishima’s chest was nearly pressed against your back with how closely he followed behind.

You hadn’t expected Tsukishima to follow you this far, and as you walked a few steps towards the direction of your apartment, you turned to thank Tsukishima for his aid.

You whip your head side to side when you find that he was no longer walking behind you, curious to see that he was waiting two feet away from the bus’ exit.

You briefly wondered what he was waiting for, and your heart shattered down to the ground when you see the familiar stranger that had been following you since you exited your office building slowly step out.

You didn’t even notice him climb onto the bus. Had he really been there the entire time? Oh god, was he planning to follow you all the way home? Your head begins to spin at the dangerous possibilities that could have unfolded.

“Are you lost?” Tsukishima’s voice was cold and stern, and you could hear it clearly from where you stood.

You watched as the hooded man jolted, clearly shocked at the question directed to him. His face still remained perfectly hidden, but you could tell from his body language that he was not expecting to be addressed.

Tsukishima towered over him, but his six foot five stature had towered nearly everyone. The eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses were narrowed in a glare, and Tsukishima stayed planted in front of your intruder.

“Oh — uh, i— no, just —“

“It’s that way,” Tsukishima didn’t wait for the man to finish his stammering, pointing a long finger towards the opposite direction of your home.

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He twirled on his heels, looking over his shoulders only to see Tsukishima watch as he walked away into the night.

You were frozen, mouth hung so wide open, you were pretty sure bugs had flown in. Tsukishima makes his way back to you, stopping to wrap his arms around your shoulders once again. He tilts his head down at you, looking softly as he asks, “Which way?”

You were at a loss for words, choosing instead to simply lead the way. Tsukishima remained draped over you, like a blanket of protection warding off all evil.

The silence that engulfed the two of you felt comfortable, and on any other day, you might have been appalled to be in such close contact with Tsukishima Kei.

But today, you felt safe. You felt comfort, and relief, and you relax against him, perfectly protected under Tsukishima’s wing.

You sneak a glance up at him, biting your lip as you turn the words you want to say over in your head.

“Tsukishima,” you start, chewing on your lips, “Thank yo—“

“My last tour is usually at 4:45,” he interrupts you, squeezing his hand on your shoulder, “I try to catch up on some paperwork before leaving but…”

He trails off, and you stay silent in fear of ruining what he’s trying to tell you.

He shifts his head away from you as he says, “If you wait for me, I could walk you home.”

You stop in your tracks, looking up at him with a smile. Tsukishima pointedly avoids your gaze, but it’s difficult when he’s keeping you pinned beside him.

“I’d like that,” you mumble before pointing back at the apartment building he hadn’t noticed, “This is my place.”

Tsukishima finally deigns to let you go, stepping back and brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Shorten your tours,” he grumbles out, turning his body back the direction from where he came, “And don’t forget to itemize each piece that comes in for the Date Masumane exhibit tomorrow.”

You stare at him dumbfounded before bursting out in giggles, bringing your hand up in a mock salute.

“I owe you one,” you call out, watching him retreat back from where he came.

He waves you off.

“I like black coffee,” he calls back over his shoulder, “Do what you will with that information.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

rbs v appreciated <33

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima kei drabbles #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader

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howaboutleeches · 3 years

Note

Ive never sent an ask before so im not sure if it will work but how about the Arcana main 6 with a seamstress Mc :)

How would the Main Six React to a seamstress MC!

Asra:

🔮 Asra could go hours and hours just watching you sewing, putting pieces together, and working on your machine. He found it mesmerizing how skilled you were, his eyes focused on every hand movement of yours.

🔮 The sound of your machine calmed him down, and he could fall asleep on a couch next to your working space, the one he had prepared specially for you and your craft. Enough lightening to make your job easier, any materials you may need and a comfortable chair to keep you comfortable.

🔮 Once you started working, Faust paid attention to you as well. She would slither up your desk or your back and watch closely, her big eyes shining as she watched you working. "Friend, work hard!"

🔮 Asra didn't want to ask for it, but if you made something for him, he would keep it around him all the time. Wearing, wrapping around his neck, around his waist, he wouldn't let it go.

🔮 Even better if you made something for Faust as well. Maybe something matching for the three of you? It would definitely put a smile on his face and make Faust's tail wiggle in excitement.

Nadia:

👑 No matter how she came to know about your skill, either you telling her or she figuring it out on her own, she became very excited about it. "I've always admired seamstresses! I tried sewing once but I just didn't have enough skill to seek it further", she would say as she grabbed your hands, caressing them as if trying to feel the power coming from them.

👑 Not even a week later, she grabbed you by the arm and led you across the halls of the palace, until she stopped in front of a room, a bright smile on her face. She opened the door to reveal a room filled with fabrics, sewing machines, mannequins, and many other items that made your heart skip a bit.

👑 That was her way of showing how much she appreciated your work. Contributing with her money to help you have the best environment (and products) to pursue your sewing career.

👑 She would ask you to make her outfits and brag to other royals and her own family about how good you were. It didn't take long for you to start receiving requests from other kingdoms and from her relatives as well.

👑 She just wants to see you happy, and knowing she helped you with it also fills up her sense of pride. Don't get me wrong, she didn't do it so she could brag about it, but she likes to know her help took part in your happiness.

Julian:

♠️ When he came to know about what you did, he was beyond thrilled. He started to bombard you with the most various questions regarding your profession, how long you have been doing that, who taught you, and what kind of things you could make.

♠️ Although he felt a little embarrassed to ask for it, he would gather enough courage to do some stuff for him, if you wanted to and had the time, of course. Custom eyepatches would be his top request.

♠️ Eventually, he also started asking for costume capes. He got so excited when you would walk into the room waving a brand new cape, almost like a child receiving a Christmas gift.

♠️ He would often bring you books about sewing, and beautiful fabrics he bought with a discount, calling it his "contribution". The thing is, he felt guilty for asking you to do eyepatches and capes for him, but he felt so good wearing something you made, he couldn't help it!

♠️ Whenever your machine would have any sort of issue, he would rush to your aid and try to fix the situation, even if you knew how to do it yourself. He just loved being useful and getting a kiss on the cheek as a reward for his good deeds.

Muriel:

🌿 He and Inanna were curious regarding your machine. When it started to make noises, Inanna growled a little at it, but seeing it was harmless, she decided to approach and sniff. Soon, she started to enjoy the noises.

🌿 Muriel on the other hand had a frown on his face, saying he didn't like it. He actually didn't have anything against the machine itself, but he started feeling jealous of it. You spent so much time working on it, he felt left out.

🌿 You ended up noticing that and decided to set up a corner next to your working table where he could rest close to you and the fireplace as well. After that, his complaints stropped.

🌿 He sometimes went out to gather some flowers he found in the forest, hoping you could use them when sewing. He always tried to get the brightest and best smelling ones, saying they would look good on you.

🌿 If you made something for Inanna, he would think about proposing to you on the spot. Inanna has been his companion for a long time, and if you cared about her enough to do something nice for her out of genuine kindness, he would know you're the right one.

Portia:

🐈 After finding out about you being a seamstress, she bothered Mazelinka for days so she could give her an old sewing machine she had in her house and other sewing materials that were buried deep into her house. Even if they were there for a long time, they were still very good quality.

🐈 She loved to watch you sewing, finding the sound of the machine extremely relaxing. She also pulled Pepi into her lap to watch you, which she did with wide eyes, following every movement of your hand with her gaze.

🐈 Portia one day asked if you could make something for Pepi, which you agreed to. As a surprise, you made matching sweaters for Pepi and Portia, which made her tear up in joy.

🐈She always bragged about your work to Nadia, saying you were, without a doubt, the best seamstress in the entire city of Vesuvia, the whole world even! She was extremely proud of you and wasn't afraid to show it to anyone.

Lucio:

🐐At first, he tried to convince you to pursue another career path. He said you were royalty now, and royalty didn't have to sew, they had other people to do that for them. It slightly annoyed him that you were doing something that someone else could take off your shoulders.

🐐As he watched you work though, his opinion started to slowly change. He saw the effort and love you put into it, and the beautiful pieces you created. He slowly started to fall in love with it.

🐐He secretly ordered a sewing machine for himself, thinking that it should be easy to sew. Then, he would show you his final work and you would awe and praise him. At least that was his plan, but after twenty minutes of trying to get the machine to work, he gave up.

🐐 He swallowed his pride, something he has only done three times in his life (he kept count of it), and went to you, asking you to teach him how to sew. The smile on his face when he made a scarf was priceless. He paraded it around the castle, making sure that everyone knew he had done it himself. And that you, his amazing and talented partner, had taught him how.

-----------------------------------------------

Well, I've been absent for a good while now, I'm not even sure no one reads my stuff anymore, but if someone still does, here ya go! I hope you enjoy this (◠‿◠✿)

I plan on being more active, maybe posting once a week.

tag list

@the-chaos-siblings @angelyuji @diamondlight301 @antipositiva @alliespec @euphorically-bisexual @v--o-i--d @llavender-tae @iarychachy @sonofahell @sluttiestestablishment @esdtvbjikmkkjbvvh @mycomancer @spinehoarder @blackrose8425 @prettyorangepineapple @anjhope1 @updatedautopsyrep0rt

If you want to be added to the tag list, go interact on my pinned post so I can know 😉 💖

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Necklace

A/n: I knooooooow I said I'll post it tomorrow but I couldn't wait. Eren is really something so I hope you all enjoy this. Feel free to look ✨disrespectfully✨ I don't know if I'm embarrassed or not by this pls

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Summary: sometimes the backseat of a car is the ideal place to find yourself in, so long as it's with Eren Yeager

Tags/ Warnings: NSFW, 18+, car sex

"Aw fuck!"

The drizzling cold enticed any of the skin that you had exposed, piercing through teeny molecules of flesh with what felt like severely dangerous needles. The loud, panting breaths that escaped both you and your partner merged in sheer fog, yet they clattered with the windows around you, staining the transparent material of glass like heavy curtains.

A mewl like sound reached your ears, ringing through your head for the upteenth time this evening only as if to reward you for your hard work.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Eren's hand shot off of your head so fast that it felt like he had been burnt only to land to the window next to him. A big hand print was plastered onto the foggy window, letting a few droplets of moisture run onto the rubber frames of the car.

The kitten like lick you placed onto his head, picking up the much dreaded drop of precum sent his head colliding in such force with the head of the backseat that the hard foam inside its industrial cover bounced his head to the front.

A bold hand cupped onto his balls, kneading the smooth skin in a manner that was firm in all the right ways. Eren bit his lip at that, a low grunting moan leaving his throat after scratching onto his vocal chords. Leaning further down you accommodated more of him in your mouth, trapping his shaft on to your pallette with your tongue before letting him off with a loud pop, only to repeat the action again.

Eren couldn't help himself, his digits run through your hair, despite being frozen, locked into place, stroked your scalp tenderly as if he found it in him to move even an inch. But when his lower stomach was churching beyond a sane point he only found it fitting to gather all of his remaining energy to treat you with a kiss.

In a heartbeat, the flats of his palms came to your cheeks tagging towards his face until he managed to open his eyes into yours. Teal orbs that were so beautifully decorated with gray specs started back into yours, hazed with lust to the maximum. You spoke no word, instead, you plopped his member off your hot mouth with a loud pop, revealing your swollen, slick with his own lust lips to him before curling the line of your mouth into a small smirk.

The cold air licked over his shaft, sending shivers across his spine yet you acted as if you knew that it was bound to happen. Carefully you wrapped both of your hands around his member, giving firm squeezes across his length with your right while twirling your left onto his base, eager to trap as much blood as you could into his erection.

"Oh fuck that feels so fucking good."

"Mhm baby"

Eren clenched his teeth as he tugged on your face again, much more forcefully this time and you couldn't help but comply to his unspoken request.

Instantly, your lips were clashed onto his, your teeth colliding from the action but you chose to ignore it as you moved your mouth on his in your own accord. Eren pushed further into the kiss, his tongue darting out towards your bottom lip to order you to open your mouth for him, to which you simply complied without teasing back.

"Fuck!" Eren said for the thousandth time "you're killing me tonight princess!"

In response your thumb circled his slit, collecting all of his slick, gushing precum, playing with how tender or soft you pressed onto him with every circle.

His tongue danced inside your mouth again, exploring the salty spots of taste he had left behind, his nose sniffing as much air as he could managed to make his lungs function halfway decently.

"As much as I like kissing you," you said, pulling back from his lips before delving into them again "I want to fucking devour you right now."

The words spiralled into Eren's brain, sending a whirlpool of desire to his lower abdomen. With wide eyes he nodded, swallowing any remaining saliva into his mouth hard enough to fill the small space of his car with the sound.

"Look at you being such a whore for my cock." He whined.

In reality, he didn't know how he could find it in himself to stand tall to his usual nature of dominance, or rather, how he managed to put any effort into it. His hands eagerly let go of your face and rested between your messy (h/c) locks once again.

Hungrily, you returned to his member, running the flat of your tongue teasingly over his head before licking the rest of his underside. When Eren hissed, you rubbed his tip sloppily over your lips and gathered your sweet saliva in your mouth, deciding that it was time to warm him up once again.

The premative sound of his voice enticed you, causing a strangle series of bubbles to form into your abdomen at the thought of what affect you could have at him. You were so hitched over the fact that you could make him melt and mewl under your touch that it excited you to no end.

As your heart sped up though, your jaw remained restless, opening eagerly to accommodate him once again. Your tongue flattened as you grabbed the base of his member right under his balls, bobbing him slowly into your mouth.

Eren's eyes watered as he watched you, his teeth digging into the chapped flesh of his lips so hard that he thought he could taste the piercing iron taste of blood, but he paid it no mind; how could he? How could he, when he felt so hang up on your total conquer of his body.

After a few thrusts you popped him out of your mouth, a longing haze in your eyes as you fixated them into his. You felt him burning holes into your orbs, your heart spreading up at the sight of him unravelling before you in such way. Your legs almost rubbed together to relieve some of the tention you yourself were feeling.

Eren seemed to notice, despite the vertigo that was written into his rich orbs, because a hand came to slightly squeeze onto your panty clad buttock. Four long digits wiggled there way under the line of your underwear, working vigorously to simply shove the clothe to the side as you finally decided to take a smooth ball into your mouth, giving it a little suck and a simultaneous long lick.

"More" Eren panted. "Take the other one too, don't stop jerking me baby."

While you were pleased with the loud sound Eren let out you wanted to stay victorious over your affect on him before delving into your own pleasure, though Eren begged for the opposite. Finally a frozen finger that had found its way through your folds managed to launch onto your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, leaving you vulnerable to let out a mewl of satisfaction.

With much determination focused on the movements in your hands you began to stroke him in a swirling motion, once again flattening your tongue as you felt him thrusting his hips slightly into your open mouth.

Eren's hand wiggled further against you, pushing your bottom into the air as he laid his palm flat against you. The sweet friction left your hips shaking, urging you to rub yourself just to prompt the slightest increase of pressure from his hand. Eren eagerly gave into your neediness, delving his middle finger just in the opening of your entrance while his thumb came to press onto your clit steadily.

When it happened, you shrieked, your chest heaving as your knees dug into the wide seat of the car with force, immediately sending a smirk of triumph onto Eren's face. Your moans were muffled by his member, the deep grunt you had wanted to let out transforming into a pleasuring vibration that spread all over him.

"Don't stop baby, I'm gonna come!" Eren's breath hitched in his throat as he spoke, his voice barely audible as it struggled to reach your ears.

You pressed on him, skillfully maneuvering the screw of your hands on him as you rubbed just below his tip, sending numerous hisses to come out of his mouth. His grip on your hair tightened while his hand momentarily stopped it's torment over you. Happy that you realised he was focusing on his release, you bobbed your head faster on him, reaching out two fingers to press just underneath his balls.

The pressure on the spot made Eren moan and widen his eyes, an inaudible curse leaving his mouth as he pushed his hips towards you further. With fast movements you stroked him up and down, your own hand colliding with your mouth, merely spreading the slickness of your drool over his whole length.

"Keep going like that and I'm going to come in your mouth."

"Mhm" you chuckled.

"That's it" Eren squirmed "Im gonna-"

Eren's thighs turned into stone, his whole body frozen as a strong ribbon of his release exploded into your mouth in spurts. His breath paced, his heart heaped into his chest, his eyes dilated as his head started feeling lighter that usual.

You got off of him, bringing a soft hand on his thigh to brush upon his hot skin, tenderly caressing pools of skin here and there. You leaned in softly, placing mellow kisses on places where your fingers couldn't caress, eliciting wondrous sounds off of Eren.

Finally, your eyes were fixed on his again, gleaming in unshed specs tears. Even though Eren's eyebrows were raised in agonising pleasure they furrowed dangerously as he kept staring at you. You felt your stomach tighten upon his gaze, a new, intense shock of arousal washing through you.

A needy gaze was all he needed to send him growling like a wild animal against you. Eren pushed past your face, bringing his face impossibly close to your ear. His breath ghosted over the spot, sending ripping shivers on your nape as he dragged his tongue in the tormentous manner across your lobe.

Nevertheless, in a moment where you felt your heart start speaking again you brought your forehead to Eren's forearm, eager to finally allow yourself to catch your breath. Looking around, you noticed how that hand print on the window had been covered with fog once again, your hand giving a small squeeze on Eren's bicep as you rubbed your lips over his silky smooth skin. His thumb rubbed a single soothing circle on your back before giving your butt a small prompting slap and, for a moment, you were sure you heard him chuckle with his own antics

"Time to get your shirt off babe." You heard Eren call as you cooed into his arm further.

You simply smiled knowingly in response. This was definitely going to be a long night.

Taglist: @thethyri @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @berrijam

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them.

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?”

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself.

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts.

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar.

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep.

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing.

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like.

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift.

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu.

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

taglist: @honestly-shite @booksarekindaneat @wonderless-screwup @pinkninja200 @captain-jebi @ajeff855 @leias-rebelion

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #college!din #college!mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal x reader #mandocrasis fic #sessions

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Math Problems

Summary: Logan gets frustrated when he doesn’t understand or get things right, and Patton always knows just what he needs.

Notes: This is a fic for the band au by @underdog-arts based on this post! I'm also gonna tag their other blog, @tsbandau

Thank you so much for letting me turn your idea into a fic, I really loved writing for your characters <3

TWs: panic attack/meltdown

Logan frowned down at his notebook, glancing once more at the screen of their laptop to the answer key for the problems before turning back to his own writing. Their answer didn’t match. It wasn’t even close, despite how he’d been certain he was doing the equation right.

That was fine- the homework assignment was to help him understand the material before the test next week- and he wasn’t in any rush to get it done. He’d try again, fix the mistake, and move on to the next one.

He took a breath to ease his frustration, the tension fading almost immediately when he glanced up at Patton seated right across the table, nails clicking against the keyboard as he focused on the paper Logan had encouraged them to work on while he did his math.

It was incredible how fast Patton could calm them down without even trying. Logan had never felt this safe with anyone else.

Logan erased his work, the equation taking up over half the page, brushing off the paper and flexing their hand before starting again.

He took it slow this time, checking and double checking each step as he progressed. It felt right, just like it had the first time he’d tried. He had this, they’d done countless problems like this in class, and he’d been fine in then, fine when taking notes, fine with the other problems, so obviously he’d just made a silly mistake the first time without noticing, and they’d get it right on their second attempt.

They had it this time. They just had to keep going, carry the numbers, check their math and then—

It was wrong. Again.

What? It wasn’t supposed to be wrong, he’d done everything right. It was the same as all the other ones and he knew how to do those, so why?

The logical part of Logan’s brain told them that they should just skip it and move on, it was one tricky problem and he wasn’t nearly done with the worksheet. He could come back to it when he was ready.

They immediately ignored their own logic, frustration rising all over again as they erased their work, the faded image of both failed attempts now staining the notebook paper staring back at him.

He did the problem again, leg bouncing incessantly against his will as they worked. His pencil scratched furiously against the paper as they glanced between their work and their notes.

He knew how to do this. He did. He’d done countless problems just like this one all week long. It was easy.

So why was he suddenly so stupid?

They finished the equation, hand shaking as he gripped his pencil, his leg bouncing fast enough to make the table tremble. He’d gotten a different answer this time, but it was still wrong and he didn’t understand why.

He tried again, but the hand holding the pencil was starting to tremble. The paper ripped slightly when they erased their work again, and Logan grit his teeth when his vision blurred with hot tears.

This was stupid.

His leg bouncing was definitely bothering Patton by now, the table shaking with each movement, Logan’s free hand tapping furiously against the wood as he studied the problem again.

They didn’t get it. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong.

He tried again, squinting at the screen and back at their paper, but it was like all the words and numbers were jumbled, blurring together into one indecipherable puddle of math homework.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t-

“Logan?” Patton was staring at them now, their voice full of honest concern, but Logan couldn’t even look up, eyes still flying from his screen to his notes. “What’s wrong?”

Logan couldn’t even read the material now. He couldn’t understand what was wrong, he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t...even remember where to start. It had been so simple in class and now he couldn’t even get one problem right.

“Logan,” Patton said again, and Logan tightened his hold on the pencil, nails digging into his palm. “Are you ok?”

Logan’s vision was swimming, and the hand that wasn’t gripping the pencil like his life depended on it reached up to shakily wipe at the stupid tears pooling in his eyes.

They tried to respond, tried to tell Patton that everything was fine, but all that came out was a choked, “I can’t do this.”

“Do you want to take a break?”

“I can’t do this,” they said again, the stream of words falling from his mouth without his permission. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t—”

The answer key was suddenly gone, Patton’s worried face replacing the screen, her hand on top of the now closed laptop.

“You’re ok,” they assured, and Logan could only watch as she reached over to close the notebook too. “We’re gonna take a break, ok?”

Logan’s breath hitched and he shook his head, hands tightening into fists. “I can’t, I—”

“You can take a break.” Patton smiled, gentle and warm, carefully taking Logan’s hands in theirs. “You’re ok. I promise, you’re ok. We can step away for a minute.”

Logan couldn’t breathe, and with Patton holding his hands he couldn’t even wipe away the tears steadily escaping, streaming down his cheeks. “I- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“That’s ok,” Patton said, squeezing Logan’s hands. “You can take a break and come back to it later. I’ll help you with whatever you’re stuck on.”

Logan didn’t even get a chance to argue, their brain too muddled and frantic to form anymore words right now, before Patton was guiding him out of the chair and across the room.

He settled them both down on the couch, shushing Logan gently as his breathing got quicker, their brain still stuck on that one stupid math problem—

“You’re ok,” Patton said, gently pulling Logan forward until his head was rested on his partner’s chest. “Focus on your breathing, baby. I’m right here.”

“I’m...I can’t—”

“Copy mine,” Patton said, arms wrapped around Logan’s middle, her heart beating in his ears. Logan’s breath hitched again, and he clutched desperately at the material of Patton’s shirt. “Nice and slow, Logan. It’s okay.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut and buried their face in Patton’s chest, desperately trying to do what he was told- to do one thing right today.

He felt lightheaded and dizzy, his body out of his control, but after a few attempts he was able to take a slow- albeit shaky- breath. And then another, and another, gently encouraged by Patton to keep going.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said once they found their voice again. “I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Patton said, never loosening their hold. Fingers started carding through Logan’s hair, and they let out another shaky breath. “English was giving me a headache, anyway.”

Logan wanted to push himself up and let go of Patton, his brain screaming at him to hurry up and finish, to figure out what he did wrong before it drove him crazy.

But he couldn’t move, bones like lead and head heavy with a thick fog. They made a pathetic noise in the back of their throat, holding onto Patton tighter.

“I have to finish.”

“You can finish later,” Patton said, planting a kiss to Logan’s hair. “I’ll help you with whatever you’re stuck on, and you can look over my paper. Deal?”

Logan hesitated, still stuck on that problem, running the numbers through his head over and over again, desperately wanting to go back and try again.

But Patton’s hold was stronger, her steady heartbeat loud in Logan’s ear, warm and safe. It felt like home.

“Deal,” he muttered, barely audible with the way his face was still buried in Patton’s shirt. Another kiss was placed on his head, and Logan practically melted into their embrace. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Patton said, gently guiding them both back until they were laying down on the couch, Logan sprawled out comfortably on top. “Anytime, Logan. I’m here.”

Logan let out another breath, their desperate hold on Patton loosening just a little as they started absently playing with his hair.

His eyes slipped shut, finally letting himself relax as Patton’s quiet breathing lulled them to sleep.

#haha I do that #band au #i really saw under's post and went #stimming #panic attack #crying #patton is so sweet we love her #logan uses he/they in this au #patton uses all pronouns #go check out the band au if you haven't its the best thing ever #writing #fanfiction #logicality #sanders sides

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 8: City Adventures & Bedroom Ardor

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Your adventures in the city are a whirlwind, a dream, full of unbridled affection, teasing and laughter and it all feels so right. There’s still the matter of the talk the three of you need to have looming in the very near future. You and Jack are ready to make the jump and go all-in, to put in the work to make things work. All that’s left is for Frankie to make his decision.

Rating: Explicit - No Minors

Warnings: M/M, MMF, oral (M & F receiving), unprotected PIV sex, dirty talk, food mentions, alcohol mentions, clothes shopping, mentions of prior drug use, mentions of prior trauma, I think that’s it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: FRIENDS IT’S HERE! Alrighty, I originally promised the return of the OT3 smut last chapter but rather than drop a 12k monstrosity, I decided to break it up and here it is! But first, we need to get through the fluff of their adventures in Manhattan and the angst/feelings during their overdue conversation.

A HUGE THANKS to mi esposa, @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for beta-ing as well as their encouragement and patience with this. This series would not be where it is without their help.

Also, a shout out to @ezrasbirdie the little tidbit of an ice cream scene is just for you sweetie!

WC: ~7.8k ← He’s big, I know ;)

It was a gorgeous day out, and Frankie’s hand hadn’t left yours since the three of you left the deli after lunch. Jack had taken your other hand, and the two of them spent your walk down 5th Avenue stealing kisses on your cheek whenever they could. Occasionally, when you were stopped for a traffic light, they’d lean in front of you and get in a quick kiss of their own.

Even though you were sure Frankie hadn’t been to Manhattan before, you noticed the way his eyes narrowed as the passing stores seemed to become increasingly more extravagant. You knew the storefronts were well outside of his comfort zone, and you found yourself tugging him along more than you had been.

“C’mon, Fish, we’re almost there.”

Jack looked at you suspiciously. He had noticed Frankie’s change in behavior as well and wanted to make sure you didn’t scare Frankie off or cheat your bet. He was met with your innocently batting eyes.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Frankie grumped and sighed as he followed you and Jack. You all paused in front of Trump Tower to give it the middle finger, then moved on towards the giant, pale stone building with Bergdorf Goodman emblazoned on it, just across the street from the ugly, phallic tower that was a stain on the skyline. Jack held the doors open, and you ushered Frankie through, mostly to make sure he didn’t bolt, then you followed behind him.

Frankie walked through the entrance, scanning the clothes on display, and immediately felt out of place. His gaze fell on a jacket that looked somewhat similar to the one he owned. He took a few steps closer, then noticed the intentionally distressed material and price tag. He came to a stop suddenly, and you almost bumped into him.

“Nope, absolutely not.”

Jack moved past you and took in Frankie’s comical look of horror.

“What’re you talking about, Flyboy?”

“I said I’d do this, but I… I am not doing this.” Frankie hissed and motioned around the store, ending at a mannequin clad in a “work jacket” with a price tag of $500.

Jack opened and closed his mouth and cocked his head as he took a closer look at the jacket, scrunching his nose in disgust. You couldn’t help but laugh, already bringing your phone out to text the Statesman driver you and Whiskey shared to come and pick the three of you up.

“C’mon, boys there’s an REI in SoHo that I think will be more Fish’s speed.”

You led the way back outside of the people milling about, then leaned over and whispered in Jack’s ear.

“Pay up, cowboy.”

Jack grumbled and fished out his wallet, pulling a fifty out to put in your outstretched hand. Frankie raised his eyebrows questioningly and crossed his arms as you pocketed the bill in your hand.

“I bet Jack you wouldn’t last five minutes inside Bergdorf Goodman.”

Frankie snorted, then shook his head with a smile. “I saw another jacket on the way out that cost two months of my rent!”

Jack let out a huff and smoothed out his mustache, then put a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Hey, I said I was buying, Flyboy. You don’t have to worry about that today.”

Frankie twisted his lips and shifted somewhat uncomfortably. For as long as you had known him, he struggled to accept any sort of help, especially that of the monetary variety.

Your Statesman driver, Stan, pulled up a lot quicker than you thought he would considering the traffic, and you all piled in. It was about as roomy as the backseat of a car could get for three people, but you made it work with Frankie in the middle.

“Hey Stan, thanks for getting over here so fast. Could you take us to Duncan Quinn? Champ wants us to get Fish fitted.”

“Sure thing, Bourbon, sounds like fun.” Stan winked and smiled at Frankie, then pulled out of his spot and into the sea of traffic.

Jack slung his arm around the back of Frankie’s shoulders.

“Fitted?” Frankie asked, eyeing you suspiciously as your hand rested on his thigh. He was sure you were doing it on purpose to distract him. “That doesn’t sound like REI…”

“Don’t you worry, Flyboy. Duncan Quinn has been working for Statesman for years now. They’re the best at what they do, but don’t let the agents in the London office hear that.”

That gets a smile and another small grumble from Frankie. “Ok, but my hat stays on.”

Jack blinked in disbelief, and you laughed knowing Frankie was dead serious. You squeezed his thigh reassuringly and kissed his cheek.

“I don’t think you’d get away with that if you were with anyone but us, but I think they’ll let it slide.”

Sure enough, when you arrived, you were greeted by an associate who looked incredibly apprehensive until you introduced yourselves.

“Hi there, we’re with Statesman, and we need to get our friend here measured and fitted.”

Upon hearing the word ‘Statesman’, the associate’s demeanor did a complete 180.

“We’ll be lookin’ at getting him a tux and one of your Bespoke Tweed suits as well, bowtie, tie, and pocket square to match,”Jack drawled. The edge in his voice told you he had also seen the associate’s apprehension at working with Frankie, and he wasn’t going to stand for it. You both eyed the man expectantly until he cleared his throat and put his hand out to Frankie.

“Hello, and welcome in, sir. My name is Aaron, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I offer you any refreshments?”

Frankie allowed Aaron to guide him over to an alcove surrounded by three mirrors. Jack took a seat in the green leather high back armchair behind Frankie, and you took a seat in Jack’s lap.

“I’ll have your rosé, thank you.”

Aaron nodded and scurried off to get your drink.

“Relax, Fish, you’re going to be just fine. You looked great in your other suit. I can’t wait to see how handsome you look in one of these.”

Frankie fidgeted but smiled at your reflection in the mirror, standing up just a bit straighter at your praise.

Aaron returned and handed you a glass of their house rosé. Then, he turned to Frankie.

“Is this your first time getting fitted, sir?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, you’re in good hands, here at Duncan Quinn...”

You tuned out the man’s spiel and leaned back into Jack’s chest, enjoying just having his arms around you. Jack held you tight and moved to sit up a bit more, careful not to dislodge you or spill your wine. He sighed contentedly, then he rested his chin on your shoulder while you both watched Aaron work on getting Frankie’s measurements.

“I’m looking forward to dinner tonight, darlin’. Looking forward to finally having the both of you in bed tonight, too.”

A shudder ran down your spine as Jack murmured in your ear, his lips and mustache grazing your earlobe, and you squirmed in his lap.

“Me too, but we’ve got a lot to talk about first.”

He hummed. “We sure do, sweetheart, but it’ll work out. He had a lot rolling around inside that pretty little head of his.”

“Let me guess, you helped ‘quiet it’ for a bit?”

You raised an eyebrow at Jack teasingly, then leaned back and tilted your head to kiss him. You knew very well how good Jack was at that sort of thing.

Once the measurements had been taken, Aaron brought out a tux, pulling and pinning the fabric to be better suited to Frankie’s figure. You made an appreciative sound in your throat as your eyes raked over Frankie.

“Damn, Frankie.”

That was all you could manage for a moment. You could see the tux coming together, accentuating his broad shoulders, muscular back, and arms.

What was it that people said about a man in a suit?

“Our handsome little Flyboy is gonna knock ‘em dead in his tux, isn’t he, Bourbon?”

Jack said it loud enough that Frankie could hear him, and he struggled to stay still, Jack’s words igniting a warmth in his chest. Frankie had already forgone trying to keep from blushing, especially since he had known there was no way he’d be able to not blush when Aaron went to measure his inseam.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed in agreement and smiled at Frankie, noticing the way his eyes hardly ever left yours. “Damn Fish, even on base in your PT gear you turned heads, and in this, you’d fit in at any gala.”

His eyes were dark as he watched you, and when Aaron left to go get more pins, you took your chance to get up and whisper in Frankie’s ear.

“You look incredible Frankie.” Your eyes found his in the mirror as he preened, and you smiled. “Am I going to get a turn with our handsome Flyboy tonight?”

He clenched his fists and took in a sharp breath as he worked to restrain himself. You smiled, then turned to move back to your spot in Jack’s lap just as Aaron came back. Jack chuckled. You had a talent for being a tease when you wanted to be.

The next suit that Aaron went to work with was a gorgeous tweed navy pinstripe suit that made your mouth water and Jack’s fingers dig into your thigh a bit. The both of you were thinking about not only how amazing the final product would look on Frankie, but also how much fun it would be to take it off of him.

It seemed like Frankie was finally starting to relax a bit as well, and you caught him eyeing the way he looked in it appreciatively. Good, the man deserves to know he looks damn good.

Even though he was starting to feel slightly more at ease, Frankie still breathed a sigh of relief when Aaron let him know he was finished, and that the two suits would be delivered to the Statesman building.

You and Jack didn’t give Frankie a chance to be or feel awkward about paying as the both of you got up. You straightened the collar on Frankie’s shirt while Jack paid at the front. Lacing your fingers with Frankie’s, you led him back outside where Stan was waiting.

“How’d it go?” Stan asked, looking at Frankie.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” he chuckled, “I’m Catfish or Frankie, by the way.”

Stan nodded and shook Frankie’s hand, then Jack emerged from the shop.

“Alright Stan, we’re off to REI now. Time to reward Frankie for letting us drag him around.”

“Sounds good, Bourbon.”

The three of you piled in again, Frankie’s hand rested on your knee and rubbed small circles while he leaned back, using Jack’s arm as a headrest. Whatever lingering tension from the past week evaporated with each little touch you shared.

Frankie was like a kid in a candy store at REI. He was still hesitant at first, but after Jack threatened to buy him a kayak if he didn’t get going and find some clothes, Frankie took off and started loading a cart with an assortment of button downs, v-neck t-shirts, cargo pants and jeans.

“A kayak, Jack? Really?”

He leaned in and kissed your temple, his hand wrapping around your back and coming to rest on your hip.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? It was the most ridiculous thing I could think of him trying to get back up to my place.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, and well, he was right.

After you and Jack felt like Frankie had picked out and tried on enough clothes, with no small amount of ogling on your part, the three of you decided to tackle what potential gear you’d need for Colombia. Frankie led you and Jack down his mental checklist of things you’d need: a rain jacket, boots, new clothes for while you were there, several packets of hand warmers, rope and so on. You raised an eyebrow at the rope and hand warmers. Frankie shrugged in response.

“We shouldn’t need them but if I get stuck on in the fucking Andes or if we have to cold camp again, I’m not gonna freeze. Always a good idea to have some rope on hand too.”

A flicker of melancholy threatened to take hold of the moment as you thought about Frankie, your team cold camping and stuck in the mountains… of coming home one fewer than they had set out. Jack was quick to usher you and Frankie along with him.

“Come along now Honeybees! We still have to fit all of this in Stan’s car. Bless that man, we’ll need to get him something real nice for driving us around and offering to put all of our bags up at my place while we’re at dinner.”

You smiled and tugged Frankie along with you, he was still in a stupor and red in the ears at the nickname Jack had used for them.

Frankie was still antsy about Jack paying, but he had to admit, there was something… nice about having Jack spoil him a bit.

You still had a bit before you all needed to leave to make your reservation, and you knew just the thing to do to kill some time. Stan helped load up the bags of clothes that the three of you had gotten, and you leaned in to whisper the directions of where you wanted to go next. He smiled then nodded.

“Let’s go, boys, one more stop before dinner!”

You were practically giddy with excitement as you all clambered out, and Stan promised to be back in time to take you to dinner. Jack’s eyes lit up when he saw the sign, and Frankie joined him when he breathed in the smell of sugar and waffle cones that filled the street outside of the building.

“I thought some ice cream after a long day would be nice, so long as we don’t spoil our dinner.”

You said the last bit as a joke, but it fell on deaf ears. Jack and Frankie were already on their way inside. Your heart swelled as you watched them examine all of the flavors. Your boys had a sweet tooth that neither would readily admit to anyone but you. You also knew that the hemming and hawing over flavors was all just for show and free samples. In the end, you all got the same flavor: cookie dough.

The ice cream parlor wasn’t too busy, and you were able to find a small table for the three of you to share. It was almost sickeningly sweet for anyone else to watch you and your boys act like love drunk teens, your legs entangled below the table while you teased, kissed, and put ice cream on each other’s noses, then roared with laughter. None of you cared what anyone else thought. Your hearts were too busy soaring, riding the high of the care, affection and ease of being together, to even notice anyone else.

When it was just about time to leave for your reservation, the three of you wrapped up and went out to meet Stan. The car ride was quiet but comfortable. Jack played with the hair that poked out from under Frankie’s hat while your fingers were laced together with Frankie’s, resting in his lap.

The three of you arrived right on time, and the maître d saw you to a cozy half-circle booth in a dimly lit section. It was secluded enough that you didn’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on your conversations. This was a nice restaurant with amazing food, but didn’t go so far as to have a strict dress code as some others in the city did. You sat down first, scooting to the middle of the booth, and Jack and Frankie hung their hats on the booth’s hooks before taking a seat on either side of you.

A waiter appeared with a smile to take your drink order. You ordered an Old Fashioned while both Whiskey and Frankie opted for Whiskey’s namesake. The waiter left, and Frankie and Jack both dived into the menu. You felt Frankie’s thigh stiffen as he perused, no doubt in shock at the Manhattan prices.

“The ribeye here is delicious. So is their grilled salmon, and their rack of lamb is amazing.”

Frankie blanched a bit at the cost of each of the items you rattled off, thinking about how much money had already been spent on him, but nodded along at your suggestions. The server came back with your drinks and took your orders. Then, a silence bursting with anticipation fell over the table. Jack was the first to break it.

“So, what do you do when you’re not freelancing for Santiago? Private tours?”

Frankie swallowed thickly then nodded.“Yeah. At least, I used to.” He sighed, still feeling a tinge of shame at having lost his job, then took a sip of his whiskey. “I, uh, I actually got fired a couple of days ago.” Frankie’s gaze flickered to the table, his brow furrowed and his tongue peeked out over his bottom lip for just a moment. “It’s not a big deal.”

Frankie sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than he was the two of you. Both you and Jack shared a glance before turning back to Frankie. In all the years you’d known Frankie, through thick and thin, if he ever said something “wasn’t a big deal”, it was, in fact, a big fucking deal.

“What happened? Y’know, Statesman will give them a call if it’s about missing a drug test or somethin’. Ginger can get it sorted right out for you, Flyboy.”

Frankie shook his head and pressed down on the small bullseye tattoo on his left hand.

“It wasn’t a drug test.” His voice instinctually lowered to a whisper. “I thought I’d only be gone a day or two max and my boss was already pissed that I only gave him five day’s notice to do the gala job. I couldn’t guarantee when I’d be back, and he couldn’t find anyone to cover for me, so he let me go.”

He looked up at the two of you, eyebrows raised and he shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but the fear that tugged at the corners of his eyes betrayed him.

“Actually, it is kind of a big deal.” Frankie admitted while he fiddled with his glass and frowned. “As long as I can fly, I don’t really care what I do, but not many places are willing to look past my record.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the blossoming shame that stuck to his throat like molasses. “Benny’s been trying to get me to do a fight, might take him up on it to tide me over in between jobs with Pope.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Benny’s trying to get you to fight?”

“Yeah, I’ve been going to the gym to work out and help Benny train. Keeps me decent for when Pope needs me.” Frankie gave you a slight smile and barked out a little laugh. “You know me though, Halcón, I don’t like showing off or putting on a show. Besides, it’s fucking hard to ignore our training when it comes to sparring.”

You chuckled, remembering how he had put Davis in his place the day before.

“After yesterday, I think it’s safe to say you’re more than decent, Frankie.”

Frankie couldn’t help the smug grin that curled his lips. It was infectious, and your own smile quickly came to life. Jack’s did too, but one look at him told you that he hadn’t so easily forgotten about Frankie’s recent unemployment.

The waiter came out with your food and to check on your drinks. The three of you decided on another round.

“It works out since we have the mission to tend to, but you gotta tell us these kinds of things, Flyboy. Keeping it locked up inside your head isn’t gonna do anybody a lick of good. If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that nothing good comes from not communicating.”

Frankie nodded and adjusted in his seat. “It’s an adjustment, but it’s something I’m working on, that I want to work on.”

The waiter came back with your drinks then, and you could tell by the way Frankie was studying the ice cube in his glass that he was mentally preparing for what he was about to say.

“So… uh, speaking of communication, back at the safehouse, you tried talking to me about what had happened between us, and I’m sorry for mentally bailing on you both.” His gaze flitted over to Jack then back to you. “I was scared, and I know it’s a bullshit excuse. At first, I didn’t want you to regret what had happened, Halcón, and then lose you after just getting you back. But then sitting down and eating breakfast with you guys was… amazing.” Frankie’s eyes were far away and his voice wistful. He was recalling the domesticity of it all and how he had felt like it was something he would be content to do with you both for the rest of his life. “I know it was just breakfast, but it felt right, and as scared as I was and still am, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You noticed Frankie toying with his tattoo again before he continued.

“When I realized what you were starting to bring up, I panicked because as good as everything else felt, I tried a... thing with a couple up until six months ago and it... didn’t work out.”

You frowned and noticed the way Jack’s grip on his whiskey glass tightened. There was clearly more to that story, but that would be for another time.

“I shouldn’t have run away from you two though. I want to know what you want and expect. You know I’m shit at these things, Halcón, but I’m ready to put the work in.”

He was fidgeting with the silverware that sat next to his hand, and you gently placed your hand over his and squeezed his fingers comfortingly.

“It definitely wasn’t how we wanted to bring it up to you either, Frankie,” You chuckled a little, trying to ease his nerves. “I know it was a lot to try to take in, even under normal circumstances. We’ve been talking about adding a third person to our relationship for a while now,” Jack’s gaze was heavy on you and Frankie, a small smirk mirroring the hungry glint in his eyes. “With what we do, and the… things we like, it’s hard to find someone we trust. We want someone we can be ourselves around.” Your reassuring smile soothed Frankie, as you smoothed over his gun calloused hand with your thumb. “Above all else, we want someone we care about, who cares about us too.”

You paused to take a sip of your drink and make sure Frankie’s eyes weren’t glazed over in panic, but you were pleased to find he was listening intently.

“Jack already knows this, but I’ve had feelings for you, I’ve loved you for a while now, Fish, and I think you know that too. Things just never worked out.”

Frankie looked down and fought back the shame he felt rising. He knew a lot of ‘things not working out’ had to do with his addiction. Jack leaned forward and reached out, his finger lifting Frankie’s chin and forcing their gaze to meet.

“Now listen here, son, it ain’t just been you. We’ve been figuring ourselves out, too. Hell, I told you how I almost cost us millions of lives ‘cause of my own demons.” Jack’s eyes and lips were twisted by an empathetic pain he felt deep in his chest. He had an intimate understanding of the self-hatred and shame that echoed in Frankie’s eyes and he wanted nothing more than to assuage it. “We had planned on going down to Texas for your friend’s fight.” His thumb brushed over Frankie’s cheek soothingly. “The idea was that you and Bourbon could reconnect and we could see if you and I had chemistry.”

Frankie broke eye contact and swallowed thickly, a burning filled his chest as he breathed in Jack’s comforting scent mixed with the whiskey on his breath. Your heart swelled as you watched them. It wasn’t often that you saw Jack’s grounding, gentle yet firm side come out with other people, but it seemed to come naturally with Frankie.

“If I’m honest, I wanted you that first night after the gala.” Whiskey continued, his gaze falling to Frankie’s lips.“All I could think about was everything we’d done, how easy it was, and how good it felt.”

Regardless of whether or not they were drugged by Agent Red then, Jack’s husky, thick tone now reaffirmed that he still felt that way.

“That night after, I was stunned to be the person you called, but I’m glad I was able to be there for you.” Jack’s voice was tinged with disbelief and you felt an overwhelming emotion wash over you. While Frankie’s trust in Jack had been unexpected, a blind person could have seen it in the way they were together. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of Jack’s lips and he scoffed as he remembered that night. “Yeah, I was scared as all hell, but waking up with you in my arms that morning… well, the only thing better would have been if Bourbon was there with us.”

Frankie nodded and inhaled, as he tried to ground himself from the shame he had almost spiraled into. His own lips quirking to mirror Jack’s nervous smile. You set down your silverware and cupped Frankie’s jaw.

“As for what we want and are expecting, well, we want you, Frankie,” Your gaze searched over his eyes and face, looking for any sign of his fight or flight instincts kicking in like they had the other morning. “We’re all going to have to communicate, but you would be just as important to me as Jack is, and just as important to Jack as I am. It’s simple, but not easy.” It was an oversimplification but at the end of the day, that’s what it amounted to. You bit your lip nervously, you were unsure of how Frankie would react to this part, especially now that you knew that he had a bad experience with a previous couple. “We would all care for, love, and support each other, which will take work, but you’re the only person I could see us doing that with, Frankie.”

“I want this,” Frankie’s voice was soft at first. “Part of me has felt like the last few days have been too good to be true. I didn’t expect...” Frankie paused and gestured in the space between him and Jack, “this or trust to be so… easy with you, Jack.”

Jack scooted closer to you then brought his hand to cup Frankie’s cheek and smiled when he leaned into the touch, the unspoken mutual feeling radiating off of them both. After a moment, Jack let his hand drop to your thigh as he kissed your temple. Frankie moved closer to you, and you took the opportunity to lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“And you know I- I love you too Halcón, I’ve… I’ve always had feelings for you.” His eyes shone with emotion as he carded his fingers through his hair nervously. After years of tamping down the words, he had finally said them out loud and he couldn’t help the grin they brought to his face “Hell, I dropped our helo a few feet to get Tom to stop staring at you when you had to change that one time.”

There was a wistful tone in the way he recounted the memory, and you let out a hearty chuckle, then slapped his arm.

“Fish, you still dropped the helo and scared the shit out of everyone!”

“You know, even then, I didn’t like people staring too long, hermosa. Tom was with Molly, and she was expecting. I just wanted to give the captain a little reminder, cariño.”

Frankie was the spitting image of the Cheshire Cat, and Jack chuckled into his whiskey glass at the sight.

“Now, I gotta side with Flyboy on this one, sweetheart, that’s fair.”

The three of you laughed, the heavy feeling at the table long gone, excitement filling its place. You all returned your attention to your respective dishes, the savory flavors pulling soft contented moans from all of you.

Your food had been devoured and your drinks were just about gone when you felt a shift in Frankie’s demeanor. His fingers trailed along your thigh under the table and his lips lingered on your neck in between kisses as he nuzzled you. A moan escaped your lips when his teeth grazed your tender skin, and you were grateful for the seclusion of the booth.

“I wanted you all day, Halcón,” Frankie murmured as he breathed you in, and Jack chuckled, then gave the waiter his card. You hadn’t even realized the waiter had returned.

“Easy, Flyboy, we should at least make it out of here before you make a mess of our girl. We can save that for another dinner.”

Jack smirked at Frankie while he pouted his lip out a bit, and your head spun when you realized what Jack was referring to. You and Jack had fooled around a bit in restaurants before, but the thought of both of them on you, teasing you, was torture.

The waiter came back with Jack’s card blessedly fast. He must have understood that the three of you had urgent plans to attend to after seeing Frankie attempting to practically devour you.

“C’mon, honey, if we don’t leave soon, I think our Flyboy is going to try to have you right here.”

Jack slid out of the booth and held his hand out for you, then chuckled while Frankie clambered out of the booth and adjusted himself as discreetly as he could.

Stan was leaning against the car, waiting with a smile on his face at the sight of the three of you, huddled close, both Jack and Frankie holding your hands.

Frankie barely restrained himself in the car. The three of you refused to send someone up to sit in the passenger seat, but the proximity meant that it was tantalizing how easy it would be to tease you.

Any remnants of self-control Frankie had disappeared after the three of you bid Stan a good night, and they had you in the elevator.

Frankie descended on you hungrily, crowding you against the elevator wall, his hand cradled your neck and jaw as he kissed you deeply. Your moans echoed off of the walls and it was like Frankie was trying to replace your oxygen with his need for you.

“Easy, Flyboy, take your time.” Jack growled as he came up behind Frankie and kissed his neck, making him shudder.

“I was in charge this morning, but tonight, we’ll follow your lead, Flyboy.”

Jack’s words pulled a moan and then a growled “fuck” from Frankie as he reached around and palmed the bulge in Frankie’s slacks. Your hand brushed against Jack’s as you brought your hands to start unbuttoning Frankie’s shirt. The elevator doors dinged before you could get further than a few buttons. Frankie’s kisses were ruinous on your fine motor control.

The three of you were a mess of tangled limbs and need as you made your way from the elevator and into Jack’s condo.

You barely made it inside before Frankie was on you again, his hands just as greedy in their exploration of your body as his tongue was of your mouth. Everything was new, yet familiar.

You had already felt his touch, heard his moans, and come undone for him, but it was like you were experiencing it all for the first time again. Unfiltered and unadulterated, it was somehow even better than when you were under the haze of Agent Red.

Frankie rested his forehead against yours, your shared breath hot and heavy against each other. Jack grunted, and Frankie smiled as he turned to kiss Jack with just as much passion and enthusiasm as he had you.

You took advantage of their distracted state and resumed unbuttoning Frankie’s shirt, the need to feel more of his hot skin beneath your fingertips driving your movements. Jack’s whine brought your attention back to them just in time to see Frankie thread his fingers through Jack’s hair. He tugged back sharply, exposing his neck where you finally saw more of the hickey you had caught glimpses of throughout the day. The sight of Frankie adding another to Jack’s neck, bending your cowboy to his will, sent heady arousal straight to your belly.

You sank to your knees, the last button of Frankie’s shirt undone, and you pushed it out of your way so you could kiss your way over his soft tummy.

Jack’s hand found your hair and pushed you down further. Smirking, and taking the less than subtle hint, you mouthed Frankie’s hard cock, still trapped in his slacks.

“Shit!” Frankie choked out from above you, making you preen and moan into the wet spot that outlined his arousal. Frankie’s hand joined Jack’s in your hair, gripping it while he ground the rough fabric of his trousers against your tongue and cheek.

A whimper left your lips. As much as you loved this, the feeling of their hands in your hair, Frankie’s self-control hanging by a thread. You needed more. You looked up to see Frankie and Jack staring down at you. Both of their gazes were hungry and dark.

Frankie’s grip on your hair tightened then slackened and he took a step back. “Bedroom, cariño, now.” His voice was raw with need, and you loved the authority in his tone.

You stood up and made your way to Jack’s room, looking back to see Frankie and Jack, hand-in-hand, not far behind you. The change in scenery refocused Frankie. His movements were no longer feverish as he let go of Jack’s hand and shrugged his shirt off. Jack steadied you from behind, hands cupping your hips while Frankie went about unbuttoning your blouse with deft fingers.

The moment Frankie tugged your blouse off, Jack kissed and nibbled on the newly exposed skin of your shoulder. Jack’s hands ghosted around to your back and undid your black lace bra, tossing it to the side. Frankie moaned appreciatively and cupped your breast. His mouth teased your nipple while Jack tweaked the other with his fingers. The sensations of Jack’s lips, his fingers, and Frankie’s mouth were simultaneously overwhelming yet comforting, and you felt like you were floating.

“Lay down on the bed, sweetheart,” Jack murmured. His honeyed voice sang through your bliss and into your awareness. Your eyes fluttered open, and you hummed in acknowledgment, then laid down towards the middle of the bed. Frankie tsked and gripped your thighs, then tugged you closer to the edge with one strong pull so that your legs dangled off the side.

You yelped in surprise, and your boys smiled adoringly down at you.

Jack quickly unbuttoned your pants, then tugged them down your legs and off, along with your panties. The soft kisses he planted from the tops of your thighs down to your knees paired deliciously with the coarseness of his mustache as he took his time, showing his adoration of you. You sighed contentedly, then looked down at him and found his eyes shining back at you in awe, a breath-taking, loving smile on his lips. He’s gorgeous, and you’re made painfully aware of the fact that he’s wearing the most of the three of you.

“You’re overdressed, cowboy,” you tease.

Frankie had shucked the rest of his clothes while Jack was tending to you, your eyes flickered to him when he took Jack’s hand in his own and tugged Jack to face him. He kissed Jack tenderly as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of Jack’s trousers and palmed him greedily. Jack’s breath hitched, and Frankie held him close with a firm hand at the back of his neck. The room was heavy with sexual tension and you ran a finger through your folds in an attempt to relieve the ache there. You were surprised at how wet you were already.

“She’s right, get undressed. I want your cock in our girl’s mouth while I fuck her tonight.”

A fresh wave of arousal hit you and went straight to your cunt when you heard Jack’s sharp intake of breath. The contrast between the tender kiss he and Frankie shared and the way sinful commands and promises rolled off of Frankie’s tongue with ease and authority made him moan.

Your whine brought their attention back to you, and Frankie took Jack’s place between your legs with a small smirk.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Halcón?”

Your fingers halted in their movements and fell to your sides, intertwining in the sheets.

“Patience, mi amor.” Frankie murmured as he sank to his knees while his fingers ghosted over your thighs, following the same trail Jack had kissed his way down. He nuzzled your curls, drinking in your scent, his hot breath tantalizingly close to where you wanted him.

“I’ve wanted this, wanted you for so long, Halcón.”

You squirmed, needing more than just the whisper of a promise of his touch. Your sharp gasp and Jack's moan filled the air when Frankie gave your cunt a quick slap.

“Stay still, you’ll take what we give you, hermosa.”

Frankie looked up at you with a mischievous light in his eyes, then glanced to his side where Jack stood, and jerked his chin.

“Jack, get behind her and make sure she behaves.”

Jack smiled and sat behind you, framing your thighs with his own. His cock twitched against your back, one of his hands splayed over your stomach and the other cupped your breast possessively as he held you against his chest.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Frankie’s voice was thick with emotion as his eyes met yours, and you both moaned when he dragged a finger through your slick.

“Damn, baby, you’re so fucking wet already.”

Frankie dipped his finger inside of you, then flattened his tongue against your clit, and you cried out, sweet desperate relief to finally feel his mouth on your core. You desperately wanted to grip Frankie’s hair and hold him to you, to take your pleasure from him as his tongue replaced his finger and delved inside of you. His moan was a low guttural thing as he tasted you, and Jack chuckled, knowing what was going through Frankie’s mind.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Halcón.”

“Sweeter than a Georgia peach, and damn if she ain’t the best I’ve ever tasted, Flyboy.”

Frankie hummed in agreement and pumped his finger back inside you, adding a second, then he surged forward to kiss Jack. Their moans as Jack tasted you on Frankie’s lips glistening with your arousal made the coil in your belly tighten impossibly further. Frankie kissed you, letting you taste yourself too, then kissed his way back down your body until he was on his knees before you. Each kiss was reverent as he silently worshipped you and your body.

Frankie and Jack seemed to be on the same wavelength as Jack’s fingers teased your nipples in tandem with Frankie’s mouth and fingers.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?”

Jack’s voice was husky in your ear as you strained against his grip on your hip. You were very nearly beyond forming words, but managed to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes!”

“I’ll bet if you ask him real nice, our Flyboy might let you cum.”

Your moan was sinful, and a rambling fountain of words spilled from your mouth.

“Please, Frankie! Please, I need-”

“Please what? ¿Qué quieres? Dime.”

“You, Frankie! Need you both to fuck me!”

Your pleading was music to Jack and Frankie’s ears.

“Mmm, that’s it darlin’, begging for us all pretty like a good girl.” Jack’s mustache teased at your ear as he nipped at your earlobe.

“Soon, baby,” Frankie promised, then kissed your thigh. “I’m gonna make you cum on my tongue first.”

Jack and Frankie’s words were like liquid fire in your veins. Frankie’s fingers drew another moan from you and stoked the fire that was consuming you even higher.

“Listen to yourself, Halcón. All of those pretty little noises you’re making, your gorgeous cunt, they’re ours. Just for me and Jack, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes! Both of yours!”

Frankie’s fingers found the spot inside you that tugged at your soul, and made you see stars. Your own supernova.

“That’s it, querida. C’mon, cum for us, soak my fingers. Wanna taste you when you cum.”

The three of you were absolutely drunk on the sexual energy in the room, and Frankie’s words were your undoing. Jack’s mouth captured yours and devoured your cry of pleasure when you came. Frankie’s moan was obscene as you soaked him, and he drank as much of you as he could while he coaxed you through your high. He didn’t stop until you whined, oversensitive and limp in Jack’s strong, comforting arms. Jack cooed praises in your ear and nuzzled your cheek. Frankie stood up with a bit of a groan and took your face in his hands gently.

“Are you okay, baby?”

The love and adoration in Frankie’s eyes made your heart sing. You were more than ok. The essence of your heart was pressed firmly against your back and cupping your cheeks. It was as if you were soaring, and there, in that moment, with your heart, your boys, on either side of you, you felt whole, complete.

“I’m more than okay, Frankie.” You sighed then tugged on his shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss with a bliss-drunk smile.

“Can we have you?”

There was a deep tenderness in his eyes, and you sighed when Jack kissed your temple. It made you fall in love with both of them all over again.

“Please,” you murmured, and Jack scooted back further on the bed until his back rested against the headboard. He moaned as he gave his neglected cock a few quick strokes.

“C’mere sweetheart, been thinking about that pretty mouth all day.”

You turned and crawled over to him, and heard Frankie mutter behind you.

“Mierda, you’re beautiful, baby.”

“Our beautiful baby girl,” Jack echoed as you took him in your mouth, tongue fluttering around the head of his cock and teasing the weeping slit.

The bed dipped as Frankie knelt and positioned himself behind you. He ran the head of his cock along your folds, lubricating himself with your cum before he slowly started to inch inside of you. Your moan vibrated around Jack’s cock, wrenching a curse from Jack’s lips.

Frankie leaned over your back and enveloped you with his presence while he waited for you to adjust to his size. Your velvet warmth gripped him tight as he rested his forehead on your shoulder and began to slowly grind into you. Jack grunted, then moaned when you started to bob up and down his cock.

“Do you know how long I waited, how much I wanted you… fuck, how much I want you, Halcón? How scared I was after that night?” Frankie wrapped an arm underneath you, his forearm braced against your chest and gripped your shoulder to support you and hold you in place.

“And somehow, you’re ours, but fuck, I’m yours too, baby. Yours and Jack’s… Shit.”

His voice was a raspy moan, thick with need, devotion, and love. He slides in and out of you slowly, trying to make it last, but after all of his teasing and edging you, neither he nor Jack were going to make it for much longer.

It felt like Frankie was trying to plant himself deep in your soul with each slow, powerful snap of his hips; as if he didn’t already have a permanent place there.

To anyone else it might have looked obscene, Frankie clinging to your frame as he slowly rutted into you while his love drunk gaze was locked with Jack’s. Your throat accommodated Jack’s girth, and your tongue swirled around him while you cradled his balls in your hand. Jack moaned while he cupped Frankie’s cheek, his chest wound tight with the emotion that hung above the three of you and connected you.

To anyone else, it was vulgar, but to you, to the three of you, it was like finally finding home.

Whiskey came with a muttered curse and a low groan. You swallowed as much of his load as you could as Jack rode out his high, his eyes rolled back, brow furrowed and lip pulled in between his teeth.

Frankie was desperate to make you cum again before he did. His fingers found your clit, and he set a pace slightly faster than his thrusts. He turned your head so that your lips could meet and he licked and kissed away what you missed of Jack’s cum.

The salty taste on your lips, still sweet from your drinks at dinner, were what finally pushed Frankie over the edge. He came with a guttural cry and bit your shoulder. The bite caught you by surprise and sent you hurtling off the ledge with him, his hips continuing to thrust lightly into you as he filled you.

You pulsed around his oversensitive cock in the aftershocks of your orgasm and pulled soft, pained whimpers from his lips, but he did his best to stay inside you so you could ride out your high.

Frankie slipped out of you with a quiet groan, and you flopped to one side of Jack while Frankie took the other, the three of you completely spent. With a groan you rolled out of bed, ignoring the displeased grunts of your boys, and mumbled that you needed to go to the bathroom.

When you walked back into the room you couldn’t help but smile. Frankie looked like he was fast asleep, tucked under Jack’s arm, and Jack’s heavy lidded eyes looked like they were losing the battle against sleep as he turned off the other condo lights with his phone. You turned your bedside lamp off, then took your spot on Jack’s free side and sighed.

“Love you both.”

Your voice was a whisper in the darkness, met by Jack’s own soft echo. There was quiet for a moment, and you figured Frankie had fallen asleep, only to hear his own mumbled response before you fell asleep.

“Les amo.”

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amxriyaa · 3 years

Text

sweater weather.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem Reader black reader imagined, but anyone can read

summary: Steve comes home after being away for a bit. He’s missed you. Based off “Sweater Weather” by The NBH

word count: 2,568

warnings / tags: 18+, Smut, Mild Exhibitionism, Sleepy Sex, Face Fucking (with a hand), Creampie, Dirty Talk, Biting, Desperation, Kinda Fluffy. this is basically just porn.

Please do not interact with this post unless you are 18+!!

A/N: i’ve never posted anything here before, so let’s pray i actually did this right. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

Steve’s never said it out loud before - only because he’s never been prompted - but the transition from fall into winter is his favorite time of year. Losing his family so young proves for harsh memories, but when Thanksgiving turns into a small event spent watching heist movies - he’s really grown a liking for Ocean’s Eleven and Tower Heist - and preparing mac n cheese and stuffing with you in his arms, he can only see the upsides. You. His girl.

It’s probably your favorite, too, if you’re honest… Something about the cold weather in New York seems to discourage criminals. You can’t complain. Wouldn’t even dare, because it means more time spent with him.

He came home around seven last night with a new VHS tape (something he learned about and just won’t let go) and two bottles of Chateau Montelena - pronounced ‘Sha-Too Mon-Tell-A-Nuh’ as a terrible, terrible joke he won’t let go - in which you, with a smile on your face, caught the implications of the ruby liquid he clutched for dear life:

“Red wine is slutty, Steven.”

“Color me slutty, then.”

It was the first time you’d had your hands on him in a month, and now that you’re watching him sleep, mesmerized by the little sounds he makes - those soft, tiny noises akin to those of a cat’s purrs - and the way he bunches up the blankets when he flips over those few times throughout the night, burying himself like an adorable little groundhog - you think, ‘I wish I could have you to myself all the time.’

(It’s selfish, but whatever.)

You wrap your arms around him, pull him in close to feel his warmth. He always smells good, even when he’s just come home all sweaty, you’ve found, and you still don’t know how it’s possible for someone to smell like comfort. Warmth.

Cinnamon and bonfires. Cinnamon from the soap he’s fallen in love with, and bonfires from… somethin’. You don’t know, and neither does he.

You run your nails over his scalp, smelling his shampoo, desperate to have your hands all over. Fingertips meet carved marble - his pecs, abs - and you rake, rubbing your thumbs in slow circles to wake him easy. Maybe it’s selfish again - he’s probably tired, but you can’t resist. Refuse to, even, with the way the moonlight makes him glow, pale skin brought to life with glimmering, bluish light. Blue’s always been his color.

He groans, still sleepy before he rolls over to face you, nudging your hip to flip you over. “Hey, doll.” His words, groggy, rumble against the back of your neck, arm sliding down to clutch the space just under your breasts. He hooks, possessive. “Time is it?”

“Three A.M.”

You rut your ass back into his hips, his cock, already half-hard, and he gets the memo, knows you’re wanting. He hums, and the sound sends chills up your spine as he slips a hand to the space just below your ear and strokes gently, moving any errant hairs out of the way with a hazy, rough whisper of, “Needy baby.”

Kisses to that spot right below your earlobe make you tremble, your body lighting up with that familiar feeling he never fails to provide, his hands heavy and warm, his touches electricity. He guides your hand back to his boxers before pulling down your panties just enough for access. “You want it slow, doll?” he says, reclaiming his cock with his own hand, sluicing up the tip with the slick gushing from your pussy.

A weak nod is all he needs before he maneuvers your legs and slides inside, slow, so, so slow, lowly moaning in your ear with every inch engulfed. He sighs when buried, stroking your hip before another languid stroke, admiring your perfect body - all his - in the dreary moonlight.

Soft whines, gentle moans, broken whispers of his name… He likes you like this - all… fragile from his touch, that slight rocking of your hips into his when he hits a spot that makes your toes curl - right there, Stevie - and that way you turn to pieces with every movement, every word. “You smell so good… Just like me…”

And then there’s a lazy rhythm, the occasional smack of his thighs against your ass, wet kisses pressed to your back, all while he tells you just how much he adores you, how much he missed you, with his hand nestled loosely underneath your chin, almost as if to say, Mine.

All mine again.

✾ ✾ ✾

A new day.

The midday sun creeps through the windows, illuminating tangled bodies and depleted wine bottles, crimson red morphed into emerald green. The yellow and orange rays swirl into a symphony, adorn his cut body, make him look so pretty.

Golden God. Beautiful.

You unwrap yourself from him after brief adoration, your mind already set on other tasks.

On the ottoman at the end of the bed, already unwrapped, lies the brand new sweater you just purchased, pre-distressed because you thought it’d be cute on him… but more importantly, you thought it’d be cute on you, too.

You slip it on, despite it being way too big for you - but that’s kind of the point - and head out onto the balcony that overlooks the backyard, adorned with a lemon and orange tree, both covered in a thin layer of frost from last night’s harsher weather. Today, though, it’s a cool fifty degrees, perfect for sitting and scrolling Instagram while in his sweater and sweats.

The door creaks as he slides out in a pair of plaid pajama pants, lifting his arm over his head to scratch his bicep, eyes squinted, still looking sleepy. You peer up at him over your phone with a smile, free hand reaching out to grasp for his, which he takes gently before pulling you out of your seat.

It’s almost instinctual, the way he guides you to the edge of the balcony and settles behind you, arms tucked under yours and wrapped around your stomach. The lemon tree is where he sets his sights, chin finding the nook of your shoulder and neck, the warmth from his chest pressing against your back. He hums, the vibrations ripple down your spine. “I love that tree.”

“I prefer the orange. She’s cuter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pauses to press a kiss into your jaw, “yeah…” Warmth meets your collarbones, his lips travelling your upper body as he strokes your hips, depriving you of the much appreciated heat across your stomach. You make a noise, a sort of… delighted disappointment - happy with the attention, missing his warmth - but then his hips drag forward, and that’s when you feel his cock, a hard line against his thin pants, rubbing deliciously against the globe of your ass -

Your stomach jumps when he does it again and nestles his body up to yours.

“Stevie…” you whisper, chills cascading down your back as he nudges your head to the side, carves out a place for his lips to land against the column of your throat. He bites lightly, and you immediately know what he’s feeling: lust, desire, need -

He wants to fuck. Now.

The thought gets lost in the press of his hand between your thighs, and any remaining sense packs up and leaves, no warning, no hesitation. He murmurs your name, and there’s some sort of… yearning about it, almost like he didn’t see you last night… “You should wear my stuff more often.” Your breath hitches when his hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers rolling over your clit in slow, hypnotic circles… “Looks good on you… Me.”

“Please.”

It’s intoxicating - him, his desperation, and it makes the synapses in your brain fizzle out, send electric shocks down to your toes and right back up to the tip of your head, and, yeah, it’s a different kind of heat, but one that burns in the same way, and then you realize - “Wait - We’re… It’s…”

You’re still outside.

“Hmm?” he says, slipping both waistbands off your actual waist, shimmying them below the curve of your ass before fondling with little groans, and, God, you’d kill to hear that sound more often, to hear his sounds more often -

You’re still outside.

“It’s cold.”

“What a shitty reason.”

Maybe it is.

(It is.)

There’s a bit more maneuvering - your hips are pulled back to fit against his better, his pajama pants are shimmied down below his cock, and he’s rubbing the tip, dripping with precum, against your holes, which is making it so much fucking harder to focus on the fact that -

You’re still outside, and Steve fucking Rogers should not be trying to fuck you on your patio in the middle of fucking autumn because someone might fucking see - “But… you…” you take a deep breath, “…you don’t have a shirt on.” Another shitty reason. A prod at your entrance makes your legs weak, a little shake that clearly betrays how wrong you know this is -

“I’ll hold my hands in the holes of your sweater.”

“Oh, God - ” you sigh, all concerns temporarily fleeting when you feel him press past, slowly eating away at your resolve, warm, calloused hands rubbing at your skin.

“Good, baby?” he mutters, inhaling deeply when he brings his nose to the crook of your neck, letting your scent warm his chest. He wiggles his hips ever so slightly, lets you adjust to those few inches as he waits for a response, imprinting kisses into your throat, hands pawing your breasts through the soft material of the sweater.

You nod, get a few muffled words out, your grip tightening on the railing as he buries himself to the hilt, stretching tender skin taut, still slow, still holding you steady, so fucking deep. “What if someone sees?” you breathe, words getting caught in the back of your throat - God, you’re so full - as you peer over your shoulder at him, noticing his frosty eyes have been completely devoured by the onyx of his pupils, lids hooded, hair mussed. He’s hungry.

An open-mouthed kiss finds your neck. “Don’t care. Want you here,” he whispers.

Dirty boy.

You nod again, too… blissed out to do anything else but let him have you here - of all places, here - and you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit the faint thought of someone seeing makes your body thrum something awful. He rocks, just a bit, humming in your ear when your walls flutter around him, then again, and again, until he starts up a lusty rhythm, hips rolling into your ass, eyes fixed on the way your mouth stutters open every time he nudges that sweet spot inside. “Still my babydoll, aren’t ya?”

He leans down, hunches over you, hand sliding up your chest. It settles beneath your chin, strong, large, and two fingers slip under your tongue as he fucks. “Missed it. Missed you.” An errant bead of sweat catches between his teeth, licked from your neck, and his warmth sends little pricks through your skin. Knuckles turn white when he grazes your shoulder in a bite, sinking his teeth, and there will likely be a mark tomorrow, but the thought sends you reeling. “Tell me you missed me, baby.” His desperate tone is decorated with a shaky breath.

You whine, manage to get a few words out, muffled by his fingers thrusting gently, hand holding a loose grip on your jaw - his.

“Gonna make you sloppy, huh?” Tender, bruises on your insides, you feel him pounding, gripping, pawing, hand hooked in your mouth in greed, in possession, claiming you and embedding himself. He wants it all. “Gonna fuck you open, right here for everyone to see, sweetheart… see how much I missed ya…” He wraps himself around you, possesses you, makes you feel him everywhere, in every nerve, and your body thrums with excitement, head lolling back onto his shoulder, mouth drenching his fingers in spit.

How does he do it?

He slips a hand through one of the holes in the sweater, clutching your stomach, nails clawing your sensitive skin, begging to be everywhere at once, begging to feel himself everywhere at once - You’re mine, baby. -

The sounds keep getting caught in your throat as that sinful, obscene noise of his skin slapping against yours makes your stomach do flips, your sweetness swimming in the air from the wetness between your legs. His fingers dip down between your thighs, spreading your wetness around your clit in frantic, taunting circles, pressing, and rubbing, and rolling, and the coil in your stomach can’t stop tightening with the dirty words mumbled into your shoulder - Squeezin’ me good, yeah… Yeah, what if someone sees, doll? Sees you takin’ my cock so good? -

You moan, a wretched sound that pulls a little laugh from him when he discovers that, yeah, you actually like this, like the faint chance someone might see how needy Steve Rogers gets for you after he’s been away for too long, too depraved to even think straight without making sure his cock still fits the way he remembers, that you still feel the way he remembers, the way he dreams about when he has to spend nights at the Avengers compound. Like a glove one size too small - tight, and snug, and so, so perfect -

“My baby likes it, huh? Gonna leave you a mess for everyone to see, doll… You want that?”

“Please, Stevie - ”

“Come on,” he pants, fingers smearing your drool across your chin before turning your head over your shoulder. “Need my best girl to come for me - Make my cock filthy with it sweetheart - ”

His teeth graze your shoulder just as he bites one more time, and you fall apart, moaning his name like a bitch in heat, all sensations from the cold muted as you jerk your hips back into his, your pussy like a vise around his cock as he keeps slamming into that sweet spot -

“Gonna give it to you, baby… Gonna give it all to you - Been too long, y’know? Can’t - Can’t keep my fuckin’ hands offa you - Gonna fill you nice ‘n full, doll - ”

And with a strangled groan, he buries himself deep, hips rutting and painting your bruised insides with thick ribbons of white, the remainder of his thrusts absolutely deranged, grunts broken up by stuttering pulses, hands forcing your hips back into his with a bruising grip.

The two of you sit there for a while, you desperately trying to catch your breath, collar wicked with sweat, him panting and whispering nonsense into your ear - You’re so good to me - and decorating your cheek and neck with sloppy, wet kisses. He pulls out after you feel like you can stand, and feels his chest tighten at the way his seed looks spilling out of you, adorning the insides of your thighs with his mark. Wrong for Captain America to be turned on by that, isn’t it?

Oh, God, how he’s missed you.

He pets the inside of your thighs with a few fingers before gathering the juices, then bringing slickened fingertips up to your lips.

You whine at the taste, sending the vibrations through his hand as you clean him with a smile on your face, licking your lips, He growls before kissing you hard, gripping the back of your head harshly, craning your neck backward to have you the way he wants you, until he sighs into your mouth.

“S’little bit cold, isn’t it?”

divider from the lovely @stargazingfangirl18! thank you so much!

A/N: okay, so, first post down, hopefully many more to come. i still have a lot of things to figure out!! likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated! <333

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #fanfiction #smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Late night call (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,7 k

Summary: Claire gets fed up with Bloom when he interrupts her evening alone with Ethan.

Warnings: Some heavy flirting, nothing explicit.

A/N: My two idiots in love spend most of their nights and mornings together and you can’t convince me otherwise.

With a heavy sigh, Ethan closed the door behind him, letting his bag fall to the ground with a thud. It was well into the evening when he managed to finish up his tasks at the hospital and go home, traffic adding another hour to his driving time. His shoulders fell in relief at the peaceful sight of his home.

Claire turned her head to the side slightly, acknowledging that she heard him coming through the door. The rest of her body remained positioned towards the window, seated on the bar stool, a cup of tea held between her hands, close to her face. It was dark outside, and the lights of the apartment were creating a stark contrast that turned the windows into mirrors, allowing her to observe him without much movement in his direction.

Anticipation buzzed right beneath her skin as she watched him make his way towards her, the distance diminishing with each passing second. She could see the exact moment they would touch, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Her breath got caught in her throat when Ethan slipped his arms around her, hugging her warmly from behind. He nuzzled her neck with his nose, humming softly at the faint scent of his shower gel that lingered on her skin.

“I see that you took full advantage of your day off.” He muttered, pushing the barely hanging on fabric of his shirt off her shoulder, exposing her skin to his ministrations. Paired with a pair of shorts, she looked like she was just waiting for him to come home and do very specific things to her. Which, for the record, was absolutely true.

She almost managed to convince him to stay in that morning, her kisses entirely too enticing, but alas, he went to work. It was her day off, and Ethan openly encouraged her to stay at his apartment, with a vision of coming home to her. With a very wide and very much knowing look, she agreed.

“I would take even more advantages if I had someone to enjoy all those luxuries with.” Claire winked at him through her reflection, successfully bringing color to his cheeks. He shook his head at her antics, tightening his hold on her. “How was your day?”

“About what you’d expect out of the day under Bloom’s thumb. Tiring and entirely too long.” he sighed, rubbing her arms absentmindedly. “He kept shoving his ridiculous ideas down my throat – I almost punched him.”

Claire smiled slyly, turning around in her seat to face him. She stroked his cheek with the back of her finger. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m glad you didn’t punch him, though, you’d damage your hands.” He smirked at her words, dropping his hands to her hips. “Yes.” She nodded at the feeling of him squeezing them alluringly. “Those hands.”

Ethan pushed on her legs gently, creating space for him to stand in. This close to her, he could see very clearly the playful sparks in her eyes and the slight dilation of her pupils. His hands remained placed on her thighs, skin on skin.

“Your texts kept me alive and going today.” he admitted, trying to keep a straight face despite they way her eyebrow shot up teasingly. Before she had the chance to ask, he continued. “Especially that photo of you in my bed.”

Feigning shock, she skimmed her fingers along the seams of his shirt, a smirk blooming on her face. “Ethan Ramsey, did you just admit that you like our suggestive texting?”

“Baby, there’s nothing suggestive about that photo. Or your texts. Your intent is very much clear.” He dropped his voice to a sultry whisper. With his lips against the skin of her neck, he added. “And welcomed.” Her breath caught in her throat, heart pumping blood faster. She gripped his sides, scratching the skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. Right as she was about to pull him onto her, he straightened his back with a knowing look. “You’re a master of distraction.”

“You’re not that bad yourself.” Claire grinned, placing her hands on his arms, squeezing them lightly. “The things you said in those texts, I have to say… “ trailing off, she leaned up to kiss his jaw. “You made me want to request a house visit.”

“Well, you’ve got me. What do you say we make good on those things you said you wanted to do?”

“You read my mind.”

Eyes locked, they leaned onto one another, like two magnets, unable to resist the pull. Lips touched, first gently, then with more pressure, smiling like a pair of fools. Hands began their exploration, tracing every curve of each other’s bodies, as though they didn’t already know them. As though he didn’t make good on his promise to use every surface of his apartment to have her.

Claire’s fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, pausing after reaching the fourth one in favor of rolling down his sleeves. “You drive me to distraction when you wear them like that.”

“Why do you think I do it?”

The impatient sound she gave him was almost enough for him to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the bedroom. He didn’t have much time to focus on it, though, because moments later, her lips pressed to his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she worked the rest of the buttons.

Right as she was about to strip him of the offending material, his phone rang, cutting the air in the room that otherwise was silent, save for their fast breathing and heavy sighs they pulled from each other.

“It’s Bloom.” Ethan groaned in annoyance, wondering how much crap he would get from his boss the next day if he ignored the call like he wanted to and went back to kissing his girlfriend.

“Tell him to go to hell.” Claire muttered, not once stopping the kisses on his skin. He choked on air, surprised at her words, but he couldn’t deny that he was getting more and more convinced to shoot down the call. And then the rational side of him chimed in and told him that if he didn’t pick up, he’d have to listen to even more nonsense the next day.

“It could be important.”

Claire stopped what she was doing, hesitation evident in her posture for a fraction of a second. Determination flashed across her face and in the next moment, she took the phone out of his hands. “Okay, fine.”

Before Ethan could react, she hopped off the stool and moved away from him, picking up and raising the phone to her ear. “Mr. Bloom, what can we do for you this evening?”

She could almost hear the surprise on the other end of the line, imagining the confusion on Leland’s face. “Dr. Herondale?” he asked, followed by another moment of silence. “Can you pass Dr. Ramsey to the phone?”

“Is this a matter of life or death?” She didn’t let him continue his request, instead going for the information she needed before proceeding.

“Well- no, it isn’t, but I asked to talk to Dr. Ramsey.” Bloom steeled his tone, losing his patience at the lack of expected outcome of the call.

“Well, Ethan is at home with his girlfriend on his evening off, so I’m sorry to inform you, but whatever this is about will have to wait. Will that be all?”

Claire could practically feel the warmth of Ethan’s stare at her, but she didn’t let that distract her. Bloom has been pulling the strings at work in whichever direction he wanted and she was getting tired of having to comply with his whims – she’d be damned if she let him dictate how their personal life ran too.

Leland, on the other end of the line, felt a strange pang. Caroline, who was sitting on the other end of the room, looked at her husband’s face with a curious expression. It seemed as though a crack in his otherwise hard exterior has been created by the single sentence from the resident, for reasons entirely too obvious – the affection between the two doctors reminded him of when he could be around his own wife without a single care in the world. Evidently, he was impacted, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it.

“Yes, I apologize for interrupting. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

The call ended as quickly as it began, and as soon as it did, Claire silenced his phone, then hers, after which she threw them onto the loveseat at the other end of the room. “There, no distractions.”

“I can’t believe you just did that.” Ethan breathed out, walking over to her side slowly. Claire shrugged, grinning mischievously.

“In his own words, my house, my rules.” Realizing what she said, she blushed and immediately rushed to correct herself. “Well, your house, your rules, really, but-“

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his hands fall to her backside, gripping the fabric of her shorts as he pressed her closer to him.

“You’re so attractive when you get bossy like that.” Ethan muttered against her lips, their eyes locked in an intense stare. She kissed him possessively, biting on his lower lip and pulling. His grip shifted to her hips, using them as leverage to twist them around, then fall backwards onto the couch, pulling her along with him in the process. She made herself comfortable on top of him, straddling him through the fabric of their clothes. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I left you in my bed this morning.” Ethan panted, his voice low and rich, courtesy of the way she moved on top of him. “And I’m about to prove just how much.”

Notes

And then he proved it. Multiple times.

The whole situation with Tobias and Bloom is making me nervous. Not to mention spoilers.

Kudos to @justanotherrookie for encouraging me to post early (remember when Sara @genevievemd said that we got her into E calling MC ‘baby’? Yeah, you’re welcome, both of you :D)

Thank you so much for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #fic #playchoices

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

Text

Our Girl

J2 x Reader

Word Count: 1,419

Summary: Jensen and Jared treat the reader to an exciting birthday.

Warnings: Smut (P in V, Anal sex, protected sex and unprotected sex, Oral Fem Receiving, fingering, double penetration, overstimulation, threesome.)

Masterlist

a/n: Could be a teaser for a possible J2 Series, still in the brainstorming works.

a/n#2: Originally a Birthday Girl rewrite, but just so there’s no doubles on here, and not an attempt at a Re-entry on Jen’s SPN Tell me a Story Bingo.

She laid between Jared and Jensen as they slept through the night. She had snuggled against Jensen, laying her head on his chest while Jared snuggled in behind her.

As the sun began to rise over the horizon, and the world slowly waking up, she tossed onto her back, Jared being long awake.

Jensen woke up, admiring the beauty he woke up to. Brushing her hair from her face. She looked so peaceful as she slept.

He realized the day as he laid there. It was her birthday. She has turned 30 today. Originally, they didn’t plan on doing anything for her birthday, she didn’t ask for anything. But Jared and Jensen wanted to treat her to a day she won’t soon forget.

He laid a gentle kiss just below her jaw, traveling down her neck. Sucking at her pulse point. Drawing out a moan from her sleepy lips.

His hand hiked up her shirt, palming her breast, pinching the hardening bud between his fingers. He was slowly pulling her out of a deep slumber, feeling her squirm under his touch in her sleepy state.

His kisses traveled down her torso, up her thigh as he worked her panties off of her. Seeing a wet streak from her heat. Making him smirk.

His kisses got higher up her thighs to her soaking mound. And he placed a kiss on her sensitive clit. Her hips jerked up at the warmth his lips offered.

The covers were pulled off over his head, seeing her darkened eyes looking back at him.

He worked her legs over his shoulders as he made himself at home and went to work. Lapping his tongue over the sensitive bud.

She threw her head back with desire as a moan escaped her throat.

He pinned her hips when they jerked again wanting more friction. His lips locked on as his tongue worked around and around her clit, building her up.

“Fuck Jay,” she moans. Her hands running through his hair, holding him in place.

She felt his thick fingers enter her aching heat; her breath hitched in the back of her throat.

His finger rubbing against her g-spot ever so gingerly, driving her nuts.

“Oh lookie here.” Jared says entering their room.

Making a B line for their bed, his lips latching on to her neck, kissing and sucking her sensitive spots. Driving her ever crazier.

She felt the heat in her belly grow, and grow with each lap of Jensen’s tongue, every thrust of his fingers, every suck of Jared’s kisses. Until it, snapped in a nuclear explosion of pleasure.

Her back arched off of the bed as she came on Jensen’s mouth. His fingers thrust slowly to a stop, and eventually once she calmed down, he pulled his mouth off of her mound, his beard soaked in her arousal.

“Happy Birthday Y/N.” He says with a dark smirk.

“I’m loving what you got planned so far.” She pants.

“I can think of something, because seeing you two like that, I gotten so hard, I want some of this.”

“Sam here.” Jensen says.

“Then why not come get it,” she says wiggling her hips.

They discard their clothes like they were on fire. And they weren’t joking at how hard they’ve gotten.

“Fuck me.” She groans at the sight of them.

“We plan on it baby.” Jared says.

She was sandwiched between the two giant Texans, Jared delivered a passionate, hungry kiss to her lips. Jensen behind her kissing the nap of her neck.

“How do you want us baby?” Jensen asked.

“I want Jared behind me, and you on top of me.”

“And do you want me in your ass, of do you think you can handle both of us in that tight little pussy of yours?” Jared asked.

“Oh god, so tempting. Let’s try both.” She smirks.

“One at a time baby.” Jensen says.

Jared hopped up to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube, Jensen taking his place on top of her, kissing her ever so passionately. Their tongues dancing across each other’s mouths. Sucking his lip, driving him crazy.

Jared settled behind her, his hands traveling down her shoulders to her back, then sliding between her cheeks. Her hips bucked into his hand; Jared smirked.

“Very impatient little birthday girl you are.” Jared says in her ear. Before kissing behind her ear, bringing her ear lobe between his teeth gently.

Pulling away slightly, he lubed up his fingers, prepping her tight hole.

The distraction was enough for Jensen to drive his cock balls deep into her core. Her jaw drops, letting a wanton moan escape from her throat.

And that distraction was enough for Jared to scissor his fingers in her hold, prepping her for him.

Pulling his fingers free, Jared slides on a condom before lubing up one more time and inches his way into her.

A low, pleasured moan escapes her lips into Jensen’s shoulder. Feeling her holes fill up with her two favorite men in her life.

“You love that feeling? Feeling how full you are of our cocks?” Jensen says lowly into her ear. Making her whine and grind her hips against them.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jensen adds.

“And I’ll even take that as, someone move.” Jared chuckles.

“Well lets not keep her waiting.” Jensen says as he pulls out before slamming back in. the sensation causing a yelp escape from her mouth.

Jared slightly pulling out, the head not even escaping from the opening, before slamming back in, his balls smacking against her.

And then they started a pace that had a rhythm when one pulls out someone thrusts in and rinse and repeat.

Y/N bounced up and down against Jared at the force of which they were delivering.

Her breathing was catching up as the coil in her abdomen built up in intensity. Each moan escaping with each breath.

“Sounds like she’s close again,” Jared growled.

“Lets give it to her.”

“God, I’m…” She moaned.

Her walls clamped down hard without warning around them, she could feel a warm, wet ooze spill inside her womb as Jensen’s thrust slow.

Her back arched off of Jared’s chest, the back of her head nuzzled in the crook of Jared’s neck as she came with a strangled wanton moan.

“Got one more left in you Stacks?”

“Damn right I do, lets see how stretched she can get.”

“Fuck me.” She pants.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get there.”

Jared slowly pulled out, he smiled proud at how stretched open she was from him.

Jensen stilled inside her as Jared guided his still hard cock to her soaking heat.

“Focus on me sweetheart, he’s gonna go slow. Just holler if you can’t take it.”

She nods against Jared. Jensen held her close giving Jared enough room to maneuver close to her so he could inch his way in.

She could feel her walls stretch to accommodate not only Jensen but now Jared, as he inched his way further in, until he was balls deep.

“What a trooper.” Jensen congratulated, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Oh god, someone start moving.” She moans.

They moved at the same time, nearly pulling out before thrusting back in.

“Oh god!” she moans.

Their pace starts slow as they worked her back up with each, full, thrust.

Her heart spiked into her throat as her coil slowly built up, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Their paced quickened as they felt their end coming to a head.

“Oh, guys,” she moans. Her legs quivering and shaking as her orgasm draws near.

“Almost,” Jensen growls.

“There,” Jared adds, as his hips buckled against her, the used condom filling up with more of his seed.

Jensen’s hips buckled and spasmed not long after Jared, spilling more into her as her walls clamped shut around them nearly milking them dry, as she came with a scream, their names on her tongue.

She saw pure white, heated pleasure as they worked her through her high. Getting them through their own.

She woke up, to Jensen and Jared passed out, sandwiching her between them. She noticed a certain glow on them as they slept, they noticed the same glow before sleep to them.

She snuggled more into them as best as she could, feeling their release slowly oozing out of her as she adjusted herself. Smiling, content with what she did with her two loves of her life.

A birthday present she will never forget, but she does have to think of something for them.

Tags:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @evansrogerskitten, @akshi8278, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/9/2021

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phoenixtakaramono · 3 years

Text

Character Design Thoughts for Shen Yuan & Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky in ‘The Untold Tale’

(This is a Follow Up to This Post)

Hello, @averydrearydiana! Loved reading through your tags! I’m excited that you’re excited! Since I’m also seeing comments on AO3 speculating about how our transmigrators are going to appear as in The Untold Tale, I might as well give my current thoughts and have this archived on tumblr for future reference.

A fun fact about TUT is that a lot of the imagery in the story is inspired by Chinese PVs and popular C-dramas and literature. Since TUT is conceived as a lovestory to SVSSS, one element that I’d wanted to incorporate is playful attempts at satirical genre deconstruction. With that comes with me playfully poking fun at some clichés or things I’ve noticed in Chinese works.

Shen Yuan’s Celestial Design

Before I talk about his mortal appearance, I have to give a lil context about his celestial design in the story. We already know what he looks like as the celestial fortuneteller in TUT’s cover art that I’ve already posted on tumblr. As everyone knows, I was heavily inspired by this Chinese PV:

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(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)

Among the things I’ve noticed are the fictional characters with white hair. We have a whole subculture of fans liking male character designs with white hair in anime and animation. Taking that a step further, they’ve even shown up in C-dramas, i.e. Teng She from Love and Redemption (technically more blond than platinum white, but shhhhh, just let me have this), Dong Hua Dijun from Eternal Love of Dream aka Three Lives Three Worlds, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (rest assured, I’m aware of the source material’s controversy, but let’s not get into that here), etc. One of the tags for TUT is Opposites Attract. Luo Binghe’s color coordination is aligned with black and red mostly. Now, visually speaking, what’s the opposite of that?

The yin yang symbol.

Fun fact, besides black vs white, green (SY) is the complementary color of red (LBG) on the color wheel. Now taking everything I’ve said, to take it even one step further, my thought process at the time was, “why not go the extra mile then and just have SY be albino? Within context of the Heavenly Realm, that character design makes sense.” TUT is me subtly riffing off what I can (for the good ol’ meta humor), but making the content come across as a legitimate story experience. As Protagonist A and Protagonist B, LBG and SY have to look visually striking together. With all that said, let’s talk about....

(In reference to the original tumblr post)

Shen Yuan (Mortal)

I’ll keep some elements of his albinism from his celestial form (light sensitivity and pale skin mostly), but SY’s mortal form is essentially SY pre-transmigration but within context of the xianxia genre.

For his appearance, let’s just keep this Author’s Note^ and TUT’s summary in the back of our brains. This is the fanvid I was originally inspired by for SY’s mortal appearance:

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(TUT Summary - Excerpt)

For what he wears, I’m currently feeling very heavily inspired by this PV:

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His mortal appearance wouldn’t be considered as “strange” or “otherworldly” compared to the “ethereal fairy-like beauty” SY retains in the Heavenly Realm, but as a side-effect of the 【PROTAGONIST’S HALO】 and his +20 CHARISMA stat, he would still be considered attractive to people even when he takes on a mortal appearance. (Mainly, I like the idea of Bing gē taking large shots of vinegar seeing SY turning heads no matter which appearance SY takes on, and Luo Binghe glaring at these “insects” for even “daring to lay their unworthy eyes on his fated person.” The thought of it just makes me laugh.)

What I mean by how SY’s mortal form being very much based on how SY appeared pre-transmigration but in the xianxia genre context, I mean he’ll have his dark hair (but longer), a “scholarly air” (as a nod to his novelist background), dark eyes, and even his glasses technically (the divine monocle mentioned in ch3, which is also a subtle nod to Sha Po Lang and a riff on men wearing monocles in other Chinese works andit’salsoforeshadowingbutshhhh).

(TUT ch3 - Excerpt)

Shen Yuan originally was an author in his forties pre-transmigration, so I like the idea him having a mature air about him in the Cultivation World as well. So for both our Protagonist B’s celestial and mortal appearances, the idea is that you can look at him and immediately recognize him as a protagonist of the danmei setting. My only two prerequisites are that his appearance screams “hello, I’m Protagonist B” and that he appears in “scholarly” attire.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky (Mortal)

Keeping in mind the original tumblr post where I wrote my thoughts on who I’m transmigrating him as, currently I’m thinking it’s a combination of these two PVs for his mortal form:

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As a nod to him being a successful novelist, I wanted him to also appear scholarly. A scholarly crown prince, if you will. For his attire, imagine all the C-drama clothing you’ve seen actors wear in period dramas, and you already have a good idea already of the direction I’m heading down.

As the prince of the cannon fodder emperor, I very much like the idea of Airplane perhaps having a baby face and brown hair (as a small nod to fanon!SQH from SVSSS) but with a great body (a huge source of inspiration are clothing worn by Prince Yu and Prince Jing of the three princes from the C-drama Nirvana in Fire). Since Airplane will also be able to select his Character Creation stats like Shen Yuan had, one thing I’m fairly certain is that he will max out his CONSTITUTION—because “game logic” and not wanting to die. (For those who don’t know, the CON stat in tabletop RPs essentially indicates a person’s overall health, wellbeing, and vigor checks...so him maxing it out is equivalent to him being as invulnerable as a cockroach. A high CON means overall healthiness, which means your character probably is full of energy and vitality, can heal rapidly, and will rarely get sick—if ever. Low CON usually means a higher susceptibility to sickness and disease, wounds that fester and linger, and a general fatigue would haunt you, etc.) Like how SY zeroed in on his CHA, Airplane would have prioritized +20 CON (+5 modifier), especially knowing the fate that’d await him as a prince and the vicious environment that is expected for palace intrigue plots (the harem is a big factor, with concubines and consorts and even the empress sabotaging each other—just to win the favor of one man). Against poison or whatnot which is a cliché in palace intrigue plots, rather than relying on luck, you typically stand a better chance of passing the CON check if you have a high modifier aiding your checks. He’s basically become impervious to illnesses, most poisons (probably being able to spring back quickly), and is considered the healthiest prince in all the mortal imperial line. <- This could be taken both seriously and humorously simultaneously.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky (Deity/ Celestial)

For Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī’s “actual divine body” that is currently asleep and won’t be awakened until Airplane completes his mortal trial to “regain his cultivation powers,” the face should obviously be similar but, as Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī, he would appear regal and dignified as a god of this world:

Imagine something along the lines of mortal Airplane as the man on the right, celestial Shen Yuan in the center, and deity/ celestial Airplane as the man on the left. I envision a respectable appearance that would knock the air out of Mobei jūn and make him recognize Airplane despite any visual dissimilarities, and in a way we have the Four Beauties of China: Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan, Mobei jūn, and Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī.

I will say I currently have an idea of making Airplane have “golden” eyes in both his celestial and mortal forms. (Spoiler alert: in my notes, I’d written down to give Airplane yellow eyes as an Easter egg to Yanxi Palace, I believe, where there was an episode where someone of the imperial harem schemed against the empress and almost had the newborn baby killed because that and the yellow skin was an inauspicious omen. We later find out through a timely intervention that the true reason was due to jaundice—because of the diet/ pregnancy cravings she ate for a period of time which resulted in her son’s symptoms. With Airplane’s high CON and another trope I’m bringing in which’ll have to do with the Medicine King’s Valley/ Valley of the Medicine King, his yellow eyes are the only side effect that lingered from that traumatic event which would have killed him had they gotten away with their scheme. A lot of palace dramas have to do with the vicious harem plots, so this would potentially be one such example.) The reason being that this is the identifying marker for MBJ to clue in that they’re the same man he will have loved. And I think that has romantic potential.

Misc.

Now addressing the other tags, yes, essentially speaking, Mobei jūn might just very well experience his very own Big Damn Reunion trope that Bing mèi had suffered from SVSSS. Poor MBJ. He’s in a tumultuous ride of his own with him considering Airplane as his own fated person, hahaha. But for the Moshang dynamic, I want him—a demon—to find himself taken with Airplane in his mortal guise—and subsequently his true celestial appearance once he finds out. I very much also want SY to jokingly snark to his fellow transmigrator-and-writing-colleague about him getting in a relationship with his own “creation” (MBJ). And Airplane would jokingly snark back about SY “ruining his ‘first son’ as well” (LBG). If you can read between the lines of that, then kudos. I’m glad to hear you’re looking forward to the palace intrigue.

I’m especially very happy to hear you’re looking forward to the descriptions! I personally love worldbuilding in the stories I consume I’m an interior designer and realtor irl, so I’m glad my love of house details and landscape, etc shows in TUT. For the pseudohistorical vibe, in the Mortal Realm, I will be referencing the Forbidden City of our Chinese history and a couple popular period C-dramas. Take the settings of period C-dramas like Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace, Yanxi Palace, and Nirvana in Fire as examples for what will be awaiting us when we finally meet Airplane in his mortal body. In the Heavenly Realm, the descriptions will be heavily referencing shows that contain aesthetics such as those of Ashes of Love, Love and Redemption, and Eternal Dream.

Take this with a grain of salt just in case I change my mind later on, but in the chapter when we meet Airplane for the first time, I probably won’t say which character he is in the first scene. I’ll give plenty of hints in the first scene so that you all can make your guesses before the big reveal, but I’m fairly confident you all or most of you will be able to pinpoint who he is among the cannon fodders. We’ll meet the emperor, who is discussing with his sons about the matter regarding the approaching calamity that is Luo Binghe. Then when we transition into the second scene, we’ll know exactly which “royal prince OC” it is that our beloved Airplane has transmigrated into, hahaha.

(*Keep in mind, for everything written above, some details are subject to change. Nothing is official until it appears in the story, or I’ve actually drawn my ideas out and posted online to both my tumblr and twitter. These are just my current thoughts.)

A goal of mine for TUT is to make the story widely accessible, meaning it doesn’t matter if the reader is new to the SVSSS fandom or aren’t familiar with the Easter egg references or meta jokes or subtext or even the Chinese culture, or even if English is not their first language. Having knowledge beforehand might help someone notice more hidden details in TUT, yes, but it is a humble wish of this writer for her esteemed readers to be able to dive into the story and get the enjoyable feeling like they’re reading a genuine danmei novel. It really makes me smile whenever I hear feedback that I am able to emulate that experience.

Very exciting developments indeed are in store!

#svsss #bingyuan #moshang #mobei jun #bingqiu #the scum villain's self saving system #the untold tale #phoenixtakaramono #phoenix talks #ask #averydrearydiana #technically not an ask #but i like to categorize it there #it’s very much like we have 2 forbidden romances ay?#There is so much I wanted to reply back to #so just know I read them all #and treasured everything you wrote in your tags #there will indeed be a transmigrator reveal bt SY and Airplane #to their bfs they can only come so close #SY will come REALLY close but of course the System will filter his words #so SPOILER ALERT an example would be SY saying I remember things in my past life clearly #In Chinese reincarnation mythos you don’t typically keep memories of any of your past lives #in some tales and C-dramas you basically drink a potion/ cup of forgetfulness to wipe your memory #before you are allowed to reincarnate into your next life etc #ah yes war strategist SY will make plenty more appearances in TUT lololol #I love your tag about LBH showing off the pelt and being like LoOk At WhAt My Bf GaVe Me aka My Bf iS BeTtEr ThAn YoUr Bf/Gf #the scene when Airplane finds out his fellow transmigrator has screwed him over will be one for the history books #meaning I will derive so much amusement from it but we will be nice and help him escape the brunt of LBH’s malice #MBJ connecting through dots will be fun too bc HeY tHiS iS mY bAe JuNsHaNg #Jūnshàng meaning the Great Exalted One aka replacing Huangshang aka emperor

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an-actual-angel · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.” You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, either dm or reply to this post <3)

Previous Chapter | AO3 | Next Chapter

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Chapter 36 - Running away is easy, Its the leaving that's hard

It had almost been two weeks since you last saw Connor and Collin. It had been tough, to say the least, you missed them like crazy. You would constantly check your phone for messages that would never come. Perhaps it didn’t take them long at all to forget about you. You couldn’t let yourself get too upset about it though, this was your decision. Maybe it was easier for them to keep their distance. It would probably work out better this way in the end.

Danny was right when he said that life in the settlement wasn't going to be glamorous, it was hard work, something you weren’t used to, coming from living cushy in a penthouse. You mostly helped out with farming the land and tending to the chickens, feeding them, cleaning out their coop, collecting eggs, etc. You also got stuck with the job of babysitting some kids from time to time. It was good to keep busy though, to keep your mind away from androids.

When you had free time, you spent it mostly with Emily, catching up, attempting to look after her, although insisted she didn’t need the fuss.

You had been staying in Emily’s shack, it was just you her and her cat Pepper, but you made a good little family. You wondered whatever happened to the father of Emily’s child, she didn’t want to talk about him too much, whoever he was. She’d just say he was away.

You didn’t want to push her but your overbearing curiosity would not sit at peace. Some other ladies around the settlement had told you he had been taken by androids.

What Emily did tell you about the child’s father was that his name was James and he was the one that saved her from the adoption centre. Well, he’d been one of the humans in the midst of the one of the riots in the city who also happened to help some of the humans escape the centre.

“Took down two androids right in front of my eyes, that how I knew he was the one.” She laughed.

“He took down two androids? On his own?” You spluttered out, not believing her.

“Yeah, with one of these,” Emily smirked handing you over a baton.

Taking it in your hand you examine it, slightly confused until you see a button near the bottom. “Is this one of the electric ones the cops use?”

“Yep, can take out an android with a few quick buzzes.” She points her chin at you and smiles. “That’s my man, always got the good weapons.”

“I’m quite surprised you settled on a man honestly.” You smirked, “Last time I saw you, you were giving puppy dog eyes to Olivia.” You cock your head to the side, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I did have a thing for her, until she got adopted and you know. Kinda couldn’t see her anymore.”

“Liv got adopted?”

“Yeah.” Emily shrugged plainly and looked away.

“I’m sorry Emily.” You reach out your hand to touch hers.

“Why are you sorry?” She shakes her head, pulling her hand away from yours to rest on her baby bump.

“It just must have been lonely for you, without me and Liv.” You bite at the broken skin on your bottom lip.

“Yeah it was a bit, but then I met James.” She smiled a little but it faded fast. “He’ll come back you know.” She said quickly, more telling it as a way to convince herself, rather than you.

You nod back to her, not wanting to hurt your friend. “Of course Emily.”

Her hand wipes at her eye a little. “Best be getting to bed.” She stands to her feet. “You should as well” she smiles placing her hand on your shoulder.

“That’s probably a good idea.” You nod. “Big day tomorrow.”

___

You woke to the sun shining through the thin material of your makeshift curtain, with a rub of your eyes and a quick stretch you were up to start your day. Making breakfast for yourself and Emily was first on the list and then feeding Emily’s cat Pepper was second. The next few hours would be spent outside on the farm tending to some of the plants and vegetables, you would do this until lunchtime when you would have a quick bite to eat and then on to the ‘town’ meeting, a quick impromptu one that had been called by Danny.

They had received word from another settlement, one not too far from them that they would aid them in their next city raid.

“City raid?” You whispered to Emily, not understanding what he had meant.

“Yeah, we’d been planning this one for a while.” She whispers back quickly. “It’s how we get more weapons, people, stuff like that.”

“Does Connor know you guys have been doing this?” You ask.

“No. but he doesn’t need to know.” She shrugs. “We send our doughboys out with masks anyway.”

“Doughboys?” You asked even more confused than before.

“Yeah, our fighters.” She snaps as she furrows her brows. “Don’t you listen?” realising how quick she was with you she apologises “Sorry, I forgot that you’re still new around here. We call our ‘recruits’” she says with parenthesis. “Doughboys, and they get shit done. I was one before, well before y’know.” She rubs her bump.

“Never pegged you as a fighter.”

“Well, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me then.” She laughs.

“Ladies,” Danny calls Emily and your attention back to him.

“This time it’s going to be the big one.” Danny looks around at everyone’s faces. “There are people from other settlements in the city as we speak. It’s almost our time to join them. Three days. Three more days!” His weathered hand hits the table he was standing in front of. “And we're getting our boys back.”

You notice Emily nod to Danny, her lip wobbles as she turns to you.

“James.” she half-smiles half whimpers as her hand grabs yours.

You give her hand a tight squeeze and whisper a silent prayer that they will indeed find him alive and well.

As the day goes on most of the camp seems in a mixture of excitement and fear about the upcoming raid.

The ‘Doughboys’ as Emily called them, coordinating their plan of attack, parents ensuring their children that everything will work out, farmers, bakers, and medics in a tizzy to prepare the needed supplies.

As the evening settles in you begin to worry for Emily, what if they can’t find James? what if he’s not even alive?

Poor Emily has been through so much. She doesn’t deserve any more grief.

A part of you wants to tell her to not get her hopes up but saying that would be cruel. You just nod along and try to keep her comfortable. After dinner Emily ends up falling asleep on the recliner chair she had been sitting on. As you wrap a blanket over her shoulders you realise that you're almost out of firewood and the fire its self is beginning to dwindle down.

Grabbing one of Emily’s cloaks from a hanger, you drape it over your shoulders before heading out on your quest to seek out more wood.

Wooden logs were usually kept in an area just west of the settlement, it was a little walk through the trees but not too far. You usually preferred going out when it was brighter. The light from your phone only made the place look creepier. The quietness of the area didn’t help either, if it wasn’t for the noises made by nearby animals the place would be downright eerie. At least you could still see the warm glow of the settlement in the distance through the trees.

You knelt down on dry dirt to pick up some of the logs from the bottom of the pile to put in the wicker basket that you had brought with you. After you make your selection you stand back to your feet and dust off the dirt of your clothes. Just as you are about to reach down for your basket again you are abruptly stopped by a large hand being placed over your mouth as well as an arm wrapping around your front holding both your arms in place so that you cannot struggle from the grasp. You try to wrestle your way out of the grasp in a fit of fear but a familiar voice sends you into shock.

“Please calm down.”

Is that?

Your body is frozen.

“I only grabbed you like this in case you screamed. Sorry, it was a bit abrupt, I know.”

Your heart begins to thump harder in your chest but this time not from fear.

“When I let go, please don’t scream.” The voice pleads.

You manage to nod your head, still, in your state of shock, the hands and arm loosen from you and you try to steady yourself on your feet before turning around.

You take a deep breath as you slowly move on your feet towards the person whose grip you had just been in.

“Richard.” You exhale deeply.

His tongue wets his lip before he attempts to speak, however, you cut him off.

“What are you doing here!? If anyone sees you!” You shout in a whisper at him.

“Look, I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “I was just lucky that you happened to be out here so I didn't have to go in there.” He gestures his head towards the settlement.

“Don’t dare step foot in there.” Your eyes widen as if he’s gone mad.

“I won’t, I won’t… If you come back.”

“What? No.” You shake your head.

“No?”

“I can’t Richard. I belong here.”

“Y/N, Look at this place. It’s disgusting.” He shakes his head as he scans his eyes across the poorly put together ‘town’. “Surviving on scraps, like an animal. You have a nice home, come back.” He reaches out to hold your hands.

You lift your brows to look up at him, your mouth becoming straight as you shake your head and slowly pull your hands away.

“I can’t, I just can’t.” You pick your basket off the ground and turn to walk away from the android.

“I’ll give you anything!” He shouts out. You turn your head to him.

“I’ll do anything.” He moves towards you again. “Just say the word. Please.”

He reaches his hand towards yours once more, his other caressing your cheek.

“I’ll even help with the rebellion.” He whispers.

“The rebellion?” You look up at him, your face plagued with even more confusion.

“Whatever it is the humans are planning. I can help, I can be of use just, please come back.” He begs his forehead now resting against yours.

“Wha- I don't understand. Why?” You whisper to him, closing your eyes as you press your forehead back against his.

“Because I love you.”

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 37 - Alrighty Aphrodite

You had entered the settlement on your own again. Going back to your shack, you had to explain the situation to Emily.

“If he can get James back.” She stopped for a minute to steady her breath. “Then I’m on board.”

After a quick hug and farewell, you had a bag packed and you were off.

“I’ll be back.” You said once more to Emily before leaving.

“I know.” She nods.

Richard had been waiting for you just outside the gateway, you had told him to wait there so he wouldn’t spook the residents.

“I can carry that” Richard insist, taking your bag from your hands, before you could say anything he had it thrown over his shoulder. You bite at your lips not really knowing what to say but walking through the forested area with him in silence.

“It’s not too far of a walk to the car,” He said. “I did try to park as close as I could.”

You just nod and continue to walk. After another while of insufferable silence, you finally speak up to him.

“So, is it true?” You turn towards the Android. “Do you really love me?”

His eyes fall to the ground for a moment as he continues on. “Yes.” He fell quiet again for a moment before continuing on. “I think I first began to realise when Collin got in that accident. You stayed with him.” He let out an artificial sigh. “I started to think about if something had happened to you and-” He shrugged.

“It took me a long time to come to grips with my feelings as you could probably tell. I never experience this type of emotion before.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You tilt your head attempting to make eye contact, his gaze still avoiding yours as he trudged forward.

“I was an idiot. A scared fool.”

“You are an idiot.” You stop for a minute causing Richard to stop as well, he moves closer to you, to see if you are alright. Taking him by surprise you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. Richard hums for a second moving away slowly, he looks into your eyes before he tries to kiss your lips.

You however hold your hand out and say “I can't do that, I have boyfriends.” Before walking on.

“Yeah, ones that left you behind.” Richard sighs moving again to walk beside you.

“They did that to protect me.”

“Connor in his twisted reasoning. He probably did it more to protect himself. He is selfish. You have no idea what your leaving has done to Collin.” Richard grumbles.

“So you’re guilt-tripping me now?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying.” Richard grunts, re-adjusting your bag against his back. “Why’d you not bring your suitcase?”

“This is just temporary.” You shrug.

“I see.”

“How’s Connor doing?” You change the subject before Richard tries to convince you to stay forever.

“He’s stressed about all of the attacks that have been happening in the city and he’s stressed because Collins current mental stability is not too fun. I think it would cheer him up to see you.”

“Yeah and he might murder you for bringing me.” You quip back.

“True. I guess we’ll just have to see.” He retorts as you notice Richard’s car parked in the distance. He did park quite close. Something Connor would also be pissed about.

“How did you find me anyway?” You ask the question that’s been on your mind since you first saw him.

“I’m afraid the truth of the matter might unsettle you a little.” He explains as his car beeps at his arrival.

“Go on.” You encourage him. “You can’t stop now.”

“I am one of the most advanced androids in existence.” He explains whilst throwing your bag in the back of his car. He then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. When you do he leans down to your ear to whisper, “I’m everywhere.” And with that, he closes the door.

You sit for a moment in contemplation as he gets into his side of the car to sit down. As he puts his seat belt on you turn to him with confusion on your face. “Did you hack my phone?”

Richard rolls his eyes as he starts up the car. “I was able to tap into the journey history of Connor's vehicle. I knew he was behind all of this.” He begins to explain as his own car sets out.

“When I got to the location of the factory I was able to scan for signs of nearby technology. Your settlement stood out like a beacon. Didn’t take too long for me to tap into some phones that were being used yes, and then I saw you.”

“Can other androids do all that?”

“Not a lot can. And definitely not to the extent that I can. As I say, I’m everywhere. Any piece of technology, I can tap into if I desire so.” Richard explains proudly.

“So, do you ever use it to spy on people?”

“Only if necessary.”

“You ever watch people naked?” You smirk a little.

Richard’s brows furrow as he blushes slightly. “No, I would not do that.”

You burst out in laughter at his defensiveness. “I’m just teasing.”

Richard adjusts his shirt collar in discomfort. “Indeed.” He replies dryly.

You smile and rest your head against the back of the seat.

“You know you can lie in the back if you want, it’s a long drive and you could do with some sleep.”

You swivel your seat around to look at the back seat, assessing it. Swapping your seat with your bag that had been put in the back and lay down on the cool leather.

“You don’t have any blankets do you?” You ask Richard as you attempt to find some level of comfort on the cold seat.

“No, sorry. I can turn the heat up if you like?”

“hmmpf.” You think for a minute. “Isn’t this car self-driving?”

“Yes,” Richard replies, not really sure at what you’re getting at.

“Why don’t you just put in the destination and then come back here and lie with me?”

His LED begins flashing red. “I think Connor would definitely try and kill me if we sleep with each other again.” Richard stammers.

“I wasn’t suggesting we have sex, oh my god!” You smack your hand over your mouth to not laugh.

Richard's face began to turn in cringe, “oh I just thought-”

“I meant so we could cuddle.” You explain, smirk still present on your face.

“Do you think Collin and Connor would be okay with that?”

“I think they’d be angrier if you let me get sick from the cold.” You tease.

“That is a fair point.” Richard raises a brow as he puts in the location for the car to self-drive. When he has it tapped in, he too swivels around in his seat to move to the back with you.

Richard is a little awkward at first as he clumsily shifted to lay down in the backseat with you, eventually pulling you into his chest. The thrum of his thirium pump makes you grin in triumph as he settles his head to rest on top of yours. Richard then changes his body temperature to a comfortable setting so that he could be your personal radiator for the next few hours.

Was this weird? Absolutely. Was this wrong? Maybe. Was this comfortable? YES.

But you allowed yourself the brief comfort of being in Richard's arms, even if it was just for this one night. Maybe you felt like you deserved it, you were entitled to some amount of comfort after all the crap you’ve been through.

A part of you was angry and Collin and Connor for not reaching out, even to send a measly little text message. Your more rational mind told you to drop it, something might have come up, you didn’t know the full story, and maybe it was too hard for them. Although that didn’t stop it from stinging your ego any less.

You managed to drift off to sleep rather quickly, that was one of the benefits from all the hard work you had been up to at the settlement, sleep found you a whole lot quicker. Richard had stayed beside you for the majority of the journey as well, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms once again. Deciding to himself to never be without this feeling anymore. His face snuck its way between your neck and collar bone to take in your scent and to delicately place his lips against your skin just for a sweet moment of indulgence. He had to wiggle his hips away from yours so you would not awake with his growing hardness against your ass.

Feeling a little guilty for his body’s response he decided to give you some space, sliding his form out from the side, slowly as not to wake you. He couldn’t help but smiling down at how comfortable you seemed as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, the seat still swivelled around to face the back.

Richard did eventually wake you up as the car pulled into the private garage area for the RK’s apartment building.

“We're here, little dove.” He coos to you, brushing his knuckles down the length of your arm.

Your eyes squinted open, feeling blinded by the violently bright fluorescent lights of the garage you had found yourself in. Looking down you had noticed one of Richard's coats had been draped over you. You rubbed your eyes briefly before reaching down to it to hand it over to Richard.

“You put it on.” He insisted, pushing it back towards you. “At least until we get inside. It gets cold in the garage, at least that’s what my sensors tell me.”

You didn’t object you just nodded in silence, still in that groggy half sleep-like state. Throwing the oversized coat onto yourself you open the car door and hop out, Richard grabbing your bag soon follows behind, hand on your shoulder as he directs you towards the elevator.

It felt strange being back in the city, even stranger to see the apartment building again.

When you entered back into your old home, it had felt different somehow, a little bit eerie even. Suppose it didn’t help that most of the lights were off.

“Collin and Connor are both out at the moment.” Richard finally spoke up again, leading you by the shoulder into the dark living room, with a flash of his LED the lights were on.

You squinted again at the harshness of them before Richard had dimmed them to a more pleasing brightness level.

“Why don’t you go and get a nice hot bath and I can put your stuff away.” He awkwardly half-smiles over at you.

“Are you sure?” You ask skittishly.

“Of course.” He tilts his head in confusion, it’s not like having YOU here was any bother to him, he was bloody delighted. “After that, I can go get my brothers?”

“Right now?” You stuttered out the question, fidgeting with the large sleeves of Richard’s coat that you had forgotten to take off.

“Do you want some time before?” Richard asked, head tilting once more, exposing his pale neck to you.

You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. “I don’t know, maybe. It’s not that I don’t want to see them. This is all just a little overwhelming.”

“I understand.” Richard nods. “Just one thing at a time.”

You look up at him once more, catching his cool eyes in a stare, you nod. “A hot bath sounds good.”

________________________________________________________________

Notes: I lowkey called Emily's love interest James after Bucky Barnes (cause for some reason I imaging him looking like Bucky lol)

Sorry I'd been gone for a while, just been really busy with work and general life stuff.

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