#the ao3 tags didn’t lie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notjustjavierpena · 4 months

Text

Panties

A/N: Well look who are back. I didn’t think dbf!joel still existed in my brain but it seems that he is actually thriving. A little treat for you all while I polish some hubby stuff. This one absolutely goes out to @sugadolly 💖💅🫶

Summary: You show off your cute little underwear. Joel wants to fuck you but you want to try something else.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dbf!joel, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, reader is a good little girl, outside sex (idk what is to call it), clit stim, overstim, reader is cockdrunk af, they’re actually very much in love for real, cum!!!!

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52857010

Panties

“Lemme see them,” Joel says with a gentle tone as he admires you only in your jeans. He is hovering above you, kisses your lips a few times, and cups your tits as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment.

You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his chest against your breasts as you embrace each other. You giggle softly, “They’re silly, Daddy.”

“Never thought in a million years that my baby would be silly,” he says with obvious sarcasm, nudging your nose with his own, “Show Daddy your pretty little panties. I’m gonna see ‘em eventually.”

You remove yourself from him to step back. You roll your eyes, and he raises a brow but then you follow through.

“Fine,” you tut as you lie down on his bed. His eyes lock on your buttoned jeans, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes deeply with anticipation hanging in the air.

You undo your jeans and pull down the zipper, wiggling your hips as you pull the denim down over them, and into view comes your pink cotton briefs. They’re cute, not silly, but you already know this, sporting a little bow on the front and a pattern of chibi-style cats.

“Well?” You kick off your jeans, throwing them onto the floor.

Joel kneels on the bed, admiring them thoroughly, “Pussy panties?”

You snort, covering your mouth and nose as you do, “Shut up.”

“Am I wrong, baby?” He crawls closer to you, lifts your legs up to bend them, and spreads them until his thighs hit the back of yours. He reaches up to peel his shirt off and throws it into your arms so you can hug it close and get drunk on his scent.

“No,” you say as you contemplate crawling into the piece of clothing that he has given you. God, you want him everywhere on you. That masculine smell has you wet in moments.

“Makes ya look real pretty, lovebug,” he compliments, just about to peel the underwear off of you. He stops himself as you scrunch your nose up at the new pet name.

Joel laughs heartily, “Don’t like it?”

“Say it again,” you grin up at him.

“Love. Bug,” he repeats, yanks one of your legs at a time over his hips.

“Hmm,” you tap your chin, “Maybe you should call me it as I come, just to make me associate it with something nice.”

“Cheeky,” he says as he pulls down his own underwear. They are in no way as thrilling as yours; black briefs that can barely contain his hard cock and with a little logo on the waistband. He settles them around his thighs, and whilst he does, you reach down to pull your colorful panties to the side.

“Joel?” You say his name. He makes a movement as if his ears have perked up at hearing his actual name.

“What is it?” He asks, rubbing your legs soothingly. His eyes are locked on your cunt.

“When— when you’re,” you trail off, suddenly shy, “Uh, when you…”

“Yes?” He drags the word out, looks up.

“I want you to come on them,” your heart beats in your chest and ears but out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Joel’s cock twitching in the air upon hearing those words.

“Was that so hard to ask for?” He digs his thumbs into your thighs, causing you to squirm underneath him, “You just lie back and let Daddy treat ya right.”

You wait in anticipation. And then, oh.

Ohh.

“Ah,” you mewl, looking down between you to see what he is doing. The thick head of his cock lays heavily against your clit, and when you tell him how good it feels, he holds the base of his shaft and slaps the tip against the small nub a few times.

You shudder, clenching around nothing and flexing your thighs as you shift a little. Joel’s cock hangs between his legs again, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, thumbs reaching inwards to spread you open and watch your pulsing cunt.

“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Make you come so hard that your little clit won’t stop twitchin’ until you get all teary-eyed?” He reaches for your clit to circle it with the pad of his thumb, and you can feel slick drip down between your ass cheeks. You moan helplessly and nod repeatedly, already heaving for breath, and Joel beams with pride, “Already cockdrunk? My my. I haven’t even fucked ya yet.”

“I don’t want you to f— I don’t want that,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself. You reach down for Joel’s cock, pulling it against your cunt but not dipping the head into you. Instead, you rub him against your clit, “This, Daddy, I want to come like this.”

“I can make that happen,” he reassures, batting your hand away to replace it and grabbing at the base of his cock himself. He resumes what you were doing, dipping the head down to catch some of your wetness before adding pressure to your clit. He slides back and forth a few times, “Like that?”

“Mhm,” you hum softly, furrowing your brow in concentration. You hold still to let him rub his whole length through your folds until he is sticky with your arousal. His left hand is still grabbing your hip, and he uses it for leverage as he leans a little weight into you.

When he grows impatient after a few minutes of you crying quietly for him, he tries to enter you. You catch his wrist and shake your head, “No! No… you promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he clicks his tongue at you.

You pout up at him, “But…”

“Oh, don’t make that face,” he groans, “You know I can’t do anythin’ when you make that face.”

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll come so hard for you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah,” you blink your eyes prettily, “This feels so good. I’ll cream all over your cock, Daddy.”

“Now how can I say no to that?” He moves a little before guiding his cockhead back to where you want it. He rubs the blunt head in circles over your clit for a moment, slaps it against the sensitive spot too, until you can hear the squelching sound of your wetness coating you. It makes him glide over your cunt easier.

You curl your toes and bite your lip as you look down at what he is doing, “Ahh… Keep going.”

He does, building up a rhythm that has you whining pathetically. This shouldn’t be that intense but it is, making your pussy flutter and seek out more.

“Let me try something,” you say, and he stops as you reach down, “One second.”

With both hands, you take hold of the seam of the leg of your underwear, holding tightly at the very top of it and the very bottom. You yank it down to sit tightly over the girth of Joel’s cock, essentially trapping it underneath your panties so it drags along the shaft with each of his thrusts. He sits so tightly against you now.

“Try now,” you don’t even have to say please for Joel to know you are begging.

“Jesus Christ,” he growls at the new sensation, spurred on to make himself feel it even more. He fucks himself against you with a sudden quickened breath.

The bed starts shaking. You start trembling.

You’re not able to take your eyes off of your sinful act, chewing on your bottom lip as he works his cock back and forth over and over again underneath the seam of your panties.

“Please,” your sound is weak, “Fuck!”

“Careful with that,” he scolds, “Eyes on me.”

You quickly look up at his face, barely able to focus with how much he shakes your whole frame with every push of his lower body.

“Say sorry,” he commands, referring to your use of a swear word. He doesn’t relent one bit, rolling his hips again and again.

“S-sorry,” you apologize, too focused on how your orgasm is already approaching, “Please.”

“Hold on,” he slows down, and you nearly sob with how close you are, but he only does it to remove his shirt and uncover your chest again. Then he goes back to his frantic thrusts, eyes fixated on the way that your tits bounce with every push of his hips.

“‘M close, Daddy,” you hiccup, feeling your heartbeat in all parts of your body. You throw your head back and groan loudly at the head of the bed, “I’m so close.”

If you weren’t holding onto your underwear, you would be clutching the bed frame so hard that your knuckles were white. Instead, the fabric is pulled so taut by your fingers that it hurts when it digs into your skin. You probably don’t have to do it so roughly but the pleasure racking up your spine makes you need it.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he encourages with ragged breathing. Confident that you won’t let go as you orgasm, he lets go of himself and grabs both of your hips. He hoists you up a little, leans forward a little further, and then drives his hips back and forth, cockhead sliding over your clit repeatedly.

“I’m gonna— Oh my God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you say it like you’re almost in a panic, almost too overwhelmed to embrace the intensity you’re about to experience. You want to push him away and pull him in at the same time but he holds you so roughly in place that you just have to take it. Your eyes find his as you let it happen, “I’m coming! Daddy, oh f— I’m coming!”

“Yeah? My love bug’s coming?” He nods as encouragement, “Come for me, darlin’ baby.”

And my God, you do. You can feel your whole pelvic floor erupt into beautiful spasms of pleasure, your clit pulsing so fast and strongly that you are sure that Joel can feel it against his dick. You thank God that he is holding onto you because you are twitching and moving involuntarily as he continues his sweet torment, and tears stream down your face.

“That’s it, baby doll, you just cry all ya want,” Joel manages to coo between his own moans. You sob as your orgasm peaks, even more when you slip into a state of oversensitivity. Joel doesn’t relent, “Oh, baby. I know, baby, I know.”

It isn’t until your panties start to tear that he draws back, precome beading at the slit of his cock from how turned on he is. He is smeared with your arousal too, pearly white, and he seems to have put all the strength he has into holding back so you don’t pass out.

You shiver, trying to make sense of why your body chose to make you come so hard from a simple clit orgasm. The sweat on your body suddenly feels cold, and you reach for him until he leans down and kisses your lips. You whimper into his mouth. He wipes away a few tears.

“You okay?” He asks softly, pulling back slightly to look you in the eyes as you reply.

“Yes, sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” he tuts, “You were gorgeous. God, I am so crazy about you.”

“Now you,” you insist, looking down between the two of you to see the red tip of his weeping cock, “You promised.”

“That I did,” he draws back until he is on his knees again. He grabs the base of his dick, strokes it a few times, and then lays it against the crotch of your underwear.

Joel rubs the head fast against the soft fabric. He holds onto your thighs, neck muscles straining as he seeks out his own pleasure. You watch him whilst delirious with post-orgasmic bliss, occasionally whimpering when he unintentionally slides over your swollen clit.

A moment later, after one of your particularly high whines, he comes with a short breath of relief. He stains the fabric, lays his cock heavy against the front of the underwear, and pulses until he has no more to give. It’s intense to see him like this, and you find yourself grabbing his wrist to keep him in the moment with you.

“Christ, sweetheart,” he pants. He slumps a little.

“I thought it was love bug,” you say with irresistible charm.

“Don’t make me tell you to lick ‘em clean, young lady,” he smirks, already crawling forward to lay down on top of you. He crushes you so heavenly with his weight, pretending-biting your cheek and causing you to snicker, “Are we clear?”

You hold him close, relishing in everything that he is, “We’re clear. I’ll behave. Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He nuzzles into your neck and presses a kiss.

“Well, I don’t think I’m quite satisfied,” you say dramatically.

Joel pulls back to glare at you, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I need you inside me too,” you pout even more dramatically, “Pussy feels so lonely, Daddy. Needs something.”

“Well, we can’t starve this insatiable pussy, can we?” Joel catches on quickly, and soon, he has you screaming on three of his fingers.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #my writing #the last of us #joel x you #dbf!joel

2K notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

2K notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 7 months

Text

Day 1: Pegging - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: Steve had once instructed Bucky how to pleasure you, but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

(this is basically part 2.5 to my fic 'Steve's Birthday Wish') Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome f/m/m, polyamorous, pegging, strap-on, size kink, dom/sub, pet names, scratching, kissing, handjob, blowjob, anal fingering, anal, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

Steve Rogers, the leader of the Rogers Mafia, the most renowned organisation throughout Brooklyn, was a highly inquisitive gang member. He had to be in his line of work to continue deceiving the cops or work with people who were so dangerous he didn’t dare to even blink more than necessary whilst in their presence.

Due to the threatening line of work, Steve had to be prepared for anything, making quick decisions to protect his friends, family and business in the heat of the moment. Over time, this could strain him, verging on feeling burnt out; therefore, he needed others to cling to and help unwind, where you and Bucky would always thrive.

However, it wasn’t so much that Steve would lie down and expect the two of you to care or pleasure him; it was quite the opposite. His ideas usually consisted of kinky scenarios you would never even dream of thinking about. For example, the only reason Bucky was in the relationship now was that Steve had suggested that his second-in-command fuck his girlfriend whilst following his instructions with where to touch you. Never would the thought have crossed your mind to include Bucky in a sexual situation as not only was he your bodyguard but Steve’s best friend, but now, the three of you were inseparable, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

This all leads to a dark autumn night, the leaves covering the ground in a sea of burnt orange and brown shades, the sun having set hours ago over the tall Brooklyn buildings as the weather changes. These earlier nights, however, did nothing to stop Steve with his intense working schedule, and neither did it for Bucky, as they both had been in the office at your home for hours on end. Even as you wished them a good night did neither man stop to have a break; only when Bucky glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearing midnight did he mutter that he was going to join you in bed, kissing Steve’s temple tenderly and murmuring for him not to be long. He all but collapsed into bed, only just managing to strip down to his boxers before wrapping his body around yours, his metal arm sliding beneath your head as the other cocooned around your chest and hand resting over your heart, his face nuzzling into the back of your neck as the feeling of your heartbeat lulled him into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, you found yourself waking, detecting warmth behind you but not in front, which felt unnerving and like something was missing, which happened to be Steve. Carefully reaching across the bed, you grasped your phone and clicked the button to see the time was nearing 3 a.m. and still no sign of your blonde boyfriend.

“Is he still working?” Bucky’s voice croaked, startling you, having not realised he had woken from your slight movement.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go and find him”, you respond whilst untangling your limbs from his. Bucky sighed away, the sleep still settled heavily in his body, before following you, not bothering to pull on any clothes as you’d stolen his oversized shirt from where it lay on the floor. It took only seconds to walk across the hall and find Steve in the same position as hours ago. Your voice was soft as you explained, “Steve, you can’t work 24 hours a day; you must sleep at some point. The bed’s getting so cold without you.” Your bottom lip pouted dramatically as you stood on the other side of his desk, looking at him with wide, sad eyes and fingers teasingly stroking the edge of the oak surface.

The corner of Steve’s lips turned up as he took in your sleepy appearance and then over to his just as tired boyfriend over your shoulder. “Is Bucky not keeping you warm?” he asked, his voice deep and full of jest.

Bucky rushed up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him as you squealed in surprise, “I’m doing a perfect job, actually”. You melted into the embrace, tilting your head to the side so he could dramatically kiss your cheek with an audible smooch noise.

The brunette man dropped into the leather chair behind him, pulling you with him. You laughed at the sudden movement but quickly righted your position to feel more comfortable, turning slightly so that your legs were slung over his lap, hands resting against his toned shoulder and face resting on his chest.

Steve watched you curiously, especially the skin of your bare legs as he rested his chin on his closed fist, the material of his black button-up shirt straining to keep his muscles contained. You noticed the look and gave him a flirtatious smile whilst reaching up to scratch your nails through Bucky’s buzzcut hair. “What’s going on that’s keeping you up for so long and can’t wait for the morning?”

Steve sighed and leaned back in his bulky leather chair, causing it to squeak under the strain of his massive muscular body. For once, Steve looked to be contemplating something and being careful how to phrase his words before explaining, “I’ve actually been thinking about you two and distracting myself with work”.

You could feel Bucky adjusting his position as he frowned, “What about us, Stevie?” His tone was calm, but you became more aware, fingers pausing with their idle distractions as your attention fixed completely on Steve.

“I’ve bought you both a present”, Steve simply explained, offering no further description and leaving you both with more questions than answers.

“Are you going to tell us, or will we forever remain in suspense?” Bucky drawled tiredly, his hand beginning to stroke a swirling pattern against your ticklish thigh.

You yawned from the comforting touch, leaning further into Bucky again, eyes feeling increasingly heavier with each passing second as you struggled to stay awake.

Steve’s ocean-blue eyes flicked between his two lovers as he continued to be careful with his wording. “I’m not being upfront about the gift because I’m unsure if you’d be into it. Wait, let me rephrase that, Bucky, I know you’d be into it, and I sure as hell would be, but little miss Sleepy head over there is the one I’m not sure about”.

Your posture straightened as you pushed off Bucky’s chest to give Steve a toothy grin, “I’d be up for whatever you have bought us!” you say happily, being a people pleaser and automatically agreeing to it.

Steve smiled, knowing you’d already give this sort of response. “You don’t even know what it is yet, baby”, he laughs under his breath before reaching next to his chair and lifting the gift onto the desk.

A confused frown settled on your expression as you visually inspected the boxed gift. “You want to fuck me with a dildo? But you’ve both done that in the past anyway-” Steve’s shake of his head stopped your words.

The man then looked away from you towards Bucky and asked, “Do you remember the first time Bucky touched you? I want to do something similar, but I want you to touch Bucky while I tell you what to do. How does that sound?” His eyes flicked back to you, waiting for your answer.

“Good. It sounds good.” Your words came out with a rushed, warmed breath as your body heated from head to toe; all lingering exhaustion suddenly disappeared. You thought more on it; you were always the submissive one in the relationship, so at least Steve was still technically in charge of the fucking, but the thought of Bucky lying down with you pleasuring him in such an intimate and dominant way, him allowing you to fuck his body, would he even want that? Sitting in Bucky’s embrace, you turned your full attention to him. “How do you feel about it?”

The handsome smirk already displayed across his face was answer enough, but then he readjusted in his seat so that his half-hardening cock brushed against your lap. Bucky leaned his face closer to yours, confidently stating, “I’d want anything you’re willing to give me, mama”.

And this was how Steve’s latest idea had you standing in your bathroom at 3:30 am, completely naked and stepping into a harness as Steve crouched down to help you into it, tightening the straps until comfortable. You were surprised just how cosy it was as the straps wrapped around your hips and between your legs, resting over your cunt without irritation.

Looking down, you couldn’t help but giggle at seeing the dildo pointing out from between your legs. It was thick, probably the same thickness as Steve, which you had a secret suspicion was on purpose; it even had veins along the shafts and balls beneath. Almost on instinct, you gripped it, running your hand up and down just to feel what it was like, but then the searing gaze of Steve’s caught your eye as his hands rested on your thighs.

“Why does that turn me on so much?” Steve mumbled as he stood, dipping to kiss the pulse point on your neck. You lean into the touch, especially as his hands grasp your waist and pull you closer to his naked body, his cock already hard and flush against your abdomen. “I’m half tempted to just ask you to use it on me”, Steve suggested, leaning back to look down at your body to stare at the toy that rested against his thigh.

Before you could ponder over his words, he gently directed you back towards the bedroom where Bucky was naked and lying in the middle of the giant bed, his metal arm casually under his head as he waited for you both to return.

Bucky’s cock was already hard with anticipation and resting against his abdomen, red and visibly pulsing with desire. His eyes darted from your fake cock to Steve’s real one, a smile brightening his handsome face as he sat up on his elbows, announcing, “I can’t fucking wait for this”.

The warmth behind your back disappeared as Steve dragged a cushioned chair to the side of the bed, extending his arm towards Bucky to encourage you to approach your boyfriend. Bucky licked his lips, sitting up fully to help you climb onto the bed and straddle his lap, hands resting on his shoulders and the dildo awkwardly hitting Bucky’s chest as you hadn’t been careful where it was positioned.

You giggled, flustered, hiding your face behind your hair to avoid ruining the moment, but Bucky tilted your chin up so your eyes met his bright blue orbs. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, Doll”.

The tension that you hadn’t realised was thick in your shoulders loosened as you relaxed further into his touch, fingers caressing his cheeks and gliding over his stubble as his cold and warm hand smoothed over your hips, pulling you closer over his thighs as your dildo brushed his cock. The two of you simultaneously turned towards Steve, waiting for instructions. Still, all he was doing was looking happily and lovingly at you both before he decided, “Kiss each other, make sure you tease him real good, Baby”.

You looked from one man to another and didn’t waste another second before pulling Bucky in for a heated kiss. Lips slid and massaged against each other as he tilted his head first, deepening and thrusting his tongue into your mouth to taste you, moaning as he did so. It was an automatic response to roll your hips and then brush your breasts against his chest, your nipples pebbling at the contact.

Then there were your fingers; you didn’t know where to touch him first because you wanted to touch him everywhere. But you remained on his face for a moment, over his cheek, his jaw, pulling him closer and holding him there before moving to other areas. Your nails scratched over his shoulders, careful not to irate the joining between his flesh and metal arm before running your fingers down each of his muscled arms, enjoying the contrast of the metal components and then the warmth from his muscles on the other arm.

You were loving every hitch of his breath against your mouth, the throb of his cock that brushed against your thigh, but then, Bucky was doing his own teasing. His large hands cupped your arse, massaging the cheeks and pulling you closer until there wasn’t a gap between your fronts. Both of you were grinding against each other, releasing sweet little moans to show how much you were adoring the other.

In fact, the two of you were getting so into it that the whole notion of the strap-on was a distant memory until Steve’s voice interrupted as he instructed, “Bucky, why don’t you touch her cock”.

You couldn’t feel anything at first because it was a sex toy, but then the harness straps tightened around your hips and between your legs, as Bucky's metal hand moved up and down your thick shaft. You broke the kiss, desperate to see the sight as you looked down between your bodies as he even brushed his thumb over the tip as if he was spreading the precum over the dildo. You were mesmerised, moving your hips in a way that the cock brushed into his circled fist.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and then scraping his sharp, straight teeth against your pulse point, making your moans deepen in pitch, more wetness forming between your legs and soaking the harness strap.

It was a new form of erotism to see Bucky jerking off your fake cock, as if it was a real one; even though you had seen him doing the same movements to Steve, it still made you feel hot under the skin. Especially when you could see how much he was being turned on by it all, his precum coating your thigh from where you were grinding against his shaft.

Steve was leaning forward in the chair, his hands clasped together as he rested them on his knees, his eyes moving up and down your bodies as he tried to not touch his cock for as long as possible, playing his own erotic game. “Think he needs some stretching now; why don’t you lie Bucky back and work your magic. Remember, don’t listen to his whining; just listen to me, Baby Girl”, Steve continued to instruct.

You pushed lightly against Bucky’s shoulders, and he lay back against the soft sheets; you took a moment to take in the beauty of his swollen lips, glazed-over bright eyes and his chest broad and decorated with red lines from where you’d been scratching him.

Trying to maintain confidence, you smiled seductively down at him before beginning a taunting crawl backwards down his body, not keeping your eyes off of his as you stroked the tip of your cock along his lean muscles as you moved.

Settling between his heavy thighs, you didn’t start immediately stretching him, instead continuing to arouse him further by starting with your tongue licking up the entire length of his cock, feeling the soft yet hard member as it throbbed. Bucky gasped, looking down his body to you on your knees, sucking him off, starting slow, tasting the salty clear juices bubbling at the tip before letting the tip rest heavily against your tongue. You sucked him gently at first, the mushroom head of his cock sensitive from the gasps and groans coming from the man beneath you. Further, you took him into your mouth until he tickled the back of your throat.

Only you didn’t stop there as you pulled off the tip with an audible pop before delving south, sucking his balls into your mouth, a move that you knew drove him insane, and you were greeted by his hips thrusting into the air, his cock throbbing, begging to be touched again.

“You’re doing so well teasing him, Sweetheart”, Steve suddenly mumbled from beside you, still on the chair but finally giving in to his internal game as he was stroking his own cock slowly, his hand squeezing and tugging on the end and then down the length.

Seeing the glorious sight beside you of Steve masturbating and Bucky led out in front of you, the ache between your legs was now becoming nearly painful. You were absent-mindedly rutting your hips onto the mattress, letting the strap of the black harness push against your cunt, trying to relieve some of the need.

Reaching over Bucky’s hairy thighs, you fumbled around on the bed from where you’d caught sight of the bottle of lube hidden within the sheets. Finally, you found it and quickly squirted some on your index finger.

Bucky heard the cap of the lube opening and immediately opened his legs to give you a little more room and better access to your finger's intended goal. Releasing your mouth’s grip on his balls, you licked his inner thighs, teasing him further before stroking the lube around his asshole, ensuring it was thoroughly covered before applying some pressure.

Quickly you could breach through the ringed muscle, and simultaneously, you sucked his length back into your mouth. You worked your digit in and out for a minute before adding another finger, angling and curling them until you massaged his prostate.

“Fuck, that feels so good, Doll, don’t fucking stop; you’re doing so well”, Bucky praised, which pulled a smile to your lips as you were still sucking him off. You moan to add more stimulation before adding a third finger. Bucky almost whimpered at the intrusion, more precum leaking onto your tongue as he begged, “More, I want more”.

Steve’s chair creaked as he leaned forward again, and his voice drew your attention to him as he demanded, “Remember, don’t listen to him. Just listen to me”. So this is what you did, as you didn’t rush to do anything further to Bucky, making sure his hole relaxed around your fingers. Bucky sometimes liked to rush moments like this to get to the main event, not caring about the burn from the stretch or any discomfort as he only needed and wanted to be fucked so Steve usually had to be firm with him to make sure he was thoroughly prepped before continuing any further.

You were thankful for Steve’s directions, even though you did all the movements. It was nice that Steve could still tell you when and how to touch Bucky, and now you had a slight inclining as to how Bucky felt all that time ago when he’d first touched you with Steve’s instructions.

“Add another finger”, Steve encouraged, his hand returning to his own cock, never taking his eyes off of every little gasp that Bucky whimpered. Your fourth finger inserted into Bucky as your mouth continued to tease and tempt Bucky closer to the orgasm that you knew he was dangerously close to. You were shocked to have so many fingers into his hole, having never usually been the one to stretch him out, but then you remembered just how big Steve’s fingers were, and he usually prepped Bucky with more force than your dainty fingers were doing.

The mafia leader finally stands up from his perched position, but only so that he can sit next to Bucky’s head, his hard soothing over the man's throat and forcing him to look up at him. “How does she feel?”

“So fucking good”, Bucky groaned as he began to rock his hips to push your fingers deeper. “But”, he continued, “if she keeps sucking me off like that, I’m going to cum before we even get started”.

You pull off with a sheepish smile, looking between your two boyfriends, but you keep your fingers inside. Steve smirked at you briefly before dipping his face to kiss Bucky, holding his hand around his throat and forcing his tongue into the other's mouth. You watched, all hot breaths and swapping saliva, battling for dominance that both wanted and neither would be willing to succumb to. Only as you removed your fingers from Bucky did the man force his head away from Steve to look down at you.

“Please, fuck me already, hot mama”.

You looked towards Steve, waiting for him to tell you to do as Bucky wished verbally but instead, he moved off the bed and came up behind you, kneeling on the bed. Without a word, he helped you to your knees, pushing back Bucky’s legs even further so that you had better access to move forward. With further lube coating the dildo between your legs, Steve pointed the toy towards Bucky’s prepped and begging hole.

Gently, Steve nudged you forward, slowly and watching Bucky’s expressions over your shoulders as inch after inch of your cock stretched the man’s asshole. You were in awe at seeing Bucky’s reaction, the way his fists gripped the sheets beside him, his cock dribbled with his juices and was red and aching against his abdomen. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth gaped open so that all his gasps were unfiltered.

The man behind you moved his hands to your hips, where they rested warm and heavy against your skin, pushing you further and further until your hips were flush against Bucky and the length of the blue dildo was penetrated within him.

It took a couple of thrusts to know how you were supposed to move, finding the right rhyme that felt good for you and Bucky, who was an absolute mess beneath you. You started slow and shallow, knowing that the dildo was moving deep and stretching areas your fingers couldn’t reach.

You were also distracted by Steve, who had begun to kiss along your bare shoulder, up the length of your sensitive neck and to the shell of your ear, where he nibbled on the lobe. “Do you like seeing Bucky like this beneath you? Do you see why we both love being dominant? There’s nothing better than seeing your lover sprawled beneath you, responding so well to your touches, until they're sobbing with need, their thoughts only of you and nothing else. I love it so much, making you feel good and seeing you make Bucky feel good”.

You’d begun thrusting harder, driven by Steve’s words and moaning yourself at his explanation. But then you’re halting as Steve starts to move your thighs apart so that he can slip his fingers from your hips, over your mouth and between your legs, pressing on the harness directly over your clit.

“Let me just move these out of the way. I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you, baby?” Steve mumbled against your neck as he moved the straps to the side to caress his fingers through your drenched folds. He chuckled as he confirmed his suspicions, “Always so wet for us; you’re just such a good girl. I think it’s about time to treat our good girl; what do you think, Buck?”

“If you don’t fuck her, I will”, Bucky decided as his hands released their grip on the sheets to begin fondling your tits, twisting and flicking on your nipples and making your hips snap forward harshly.

Steve shifted once again behind you, and before you could even moan his name, his cock slid between your legs and pushed into your soaked, aching pussy. Your hands reached out to grab onto anything and ended up grasping Bucky’s wrists, your eyes shutting and hips pausing as you thrived at the stretching from the Blonde’s cock.

Bucky readjusted his hands so that both of your fingers were linked together, holding you up as you took a moment to get used to the size of Steve as he kissed along your neck to help soothe you. “Feeling good, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, smugness evident in his tone.

“So-... So good”, you stuttered over your words as you tried to accommodate his length, groaning as he finally bottomed out and his tip pushed into your cervix.

“Now the real fun begins”, Steve grunted as he pulled out and pushed back in, causing your hips to snap forward and fuck into Bucky. The two of you gasped at the movement, and then you truly realised Steve’s plan. In this position, as Steve fucked into you, it caused you to thrust into Bucky so effectively; Steve was fucking both of you at the same time, which was probably why he had found a dildo that was similar in size to his own cock.

“Holy shit!” Bucky groaned, his back arching as his hands gripped tightly around yours as Steve began to move faster, the wet sounds echoing around the bedroom as the morning sun began to seep through the gap in the curtains.

Steve rested one hand against your hip, and the other reached around your body to grab your hand, pulling it out of Bucky’s grasp but only so that he could move it down to the man’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then covering your hand in his. Matching his thrust, Steve used your hand to jerk off Bucky, and this only made your walls tighten around Steve at seeing the man beneath you crying out.

You knew Bucky was trying not to cum, Steve knew Bucky was trying not to cum, and Bucky was desperately in his own world of attempting to prolong the pleasure. He never wanted it to end. Even as his shaft hardened and his moans became more urgent, he still tried to will his body to not orgasm.

However, this all went out of the window as you had the sudden confidence to say, “I want you to cum for us, Bucky; I know you want to”.

It was almost instantaneous. Bucky’s eyes shut as his back arched further, his hands falling back to his side as long streaks of hot cum lathered up his chest as he came hard, his hips thrusting around your dildo and his cock into your hand.

Steve grunted over your shoulder, his movements quickening as he reached his peak, but he, like Bucky, tried to hold it back. Releasing the grip on Bucky’s spent cock, he reached between your thighs and stroked against your clit, pressing harshly and snapping his hips into yours.

It was like a burst of warmth and tingles spread from your abdomen, over your pussy and down your thighs as you came, slumping forward against Bucky’s chest as you lost any energy you had. Your pussy spasmed around Steve and he heaved a finally harsh thrust into you before he was pouring his seed into your hole, seeping out of the edges and pooling onto the sheets below.

The three of you tried to catch your breaths, not rushing to move as you each kissed random body parts lovingly, not quite having the energy to express how much you loved each other, but the touches conveyed the message thoroughly enough.

Steve was the first to move, kissing between your shoulder blades once before pulling out and then carefully beginning to help you ease out of Bucky, who gasped at the loss of the dildo. Next, Steve helped you stand on wobbly knees, only briefly so that he could clean between your legs with a warm washcloth and remove the harness from your body.

You then turned to Bucky and helped to clean all the cum and lube off of his body and then collapsed onto his chest, cuddling close as his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head. Steve did the same on Bucky’s other side, kissing your head and then Bucky wrapping his big arms around the man's abdomen and laying his hand over yours. No further words needed to be said; Steve finally found the calm that came from being with you and Bucky, the ideas and thoughts quietening in his mind as he found the peace he’d been craving all night.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel smut #mine*#kinktober #stucky x reader #stucky

1K notes · View notes

lilac-5ky · 8 months

Note

TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

Masterlist | AO3 | Requests

For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

#Toji x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #toji <3 #toji headcanons #toji fic #toji x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

2K notes · View notes

zanarkandskylines · 3 months

Text

Behind Closed Doors

『♡』 fem!reader x bakudeku ╰➤ ꒰ lovers (bf/gf) | aged to 21 ꒱

♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist | izuku midoriya masterlist ♡

summary: reader comes home to a surprise when she finds bakugo and midoriya making out in their bedroom. tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - dirty talk, praise, threesome, oral (f!give/receive), fingering, facial, creampie | porn-with-plot, lovers (bf/gf), friends to lovers (bf/gf/bf) a/n: who knew a kiss could kickstart a whole new experience?? ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,057꒱

The lock on the door clicks open to your shared apartment with Katsuki as you shuffle inside.

“Hey babe, I’m home!” You call as you close the door, but don’t receive a response.

“Kats?” You can smell the aroma of the dinner he prepared as it floats throughout the apartment, but there's nothing in the kitchen.

You waltz into the living room and it’s empty, the TV off and no sign of your boyfriend. Wandering down the hall, you push the door open to the bedroom to a sight you didn’t expect.

Katsuki and Izuku are bare chested in your bed, intertwined as their tongues visibly swiped into each other’s mouths. They hadn’t noticed you and for sure didn’t hear you come in the door.

You decide to lean against the doorframe, completely visible to them if they were to glance your way, but they’re too oblivious in their heated make out to notice.

You won’t lie, this is hot as fuck. Seeing your boyfriend devouring his best friend with such fervor was sending waves of heat to your center as you bit your lip.

Well, it had to come to an end eventually.

“Hey boys.”

The two of them rocket apart, scrambling to the opposite ends of the bed as they’re still panting with swollen lips.

“H-hey baby,” Katsuki says anxiously. “Didn’t hear ya come in.”

“H-hi y/n,” Izuku chirps as he fiddles with his fingers.

Silence fills the room, both of them nervously anticipating your reaction as you uncross your arms and push yourself off doorframe.

You can’t help but laugh, their terrified faces melting into confusion.

“Kat, baby, we talked about this,” you hum, making your way over to the bed. His neck and face are speckled with patches of a pink flush as his brow furrows.

“I told you to wait for me if you decided to ask him.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Izuku asked, his interest peaked.

You turn to face Izuku, crawling onto the bed between them.

“Guessing he didn’t ask you directly. If you’re open to it, Izuku, we’d like to have you be our third.”

“T-third?” He questions, his face turning every shade of red.

“Meanin’ we wanna fuck you, nerd,” Katsuki quips, getting straight to the point, a grin plastered on his lips.

You expected Izuku to be flustered beyond belief over Katsuki’s directness. Before you knew it, Izuku was crawling over you and back into Katsuki's lap.

───

“Ah! F-fuck,” you moan as Katsuki’s two fingers deep into your aching center, your arousal coating his fingers as he’s slipping in and out of you at a steady pace. He dives in to steal your lips in a sloppy kiss as you’re squirming under him, ecstasy creeping through your body as you ride the waves of white-hot pleasure.

Izuku watches your bodies move in tandem, a magnetic force between the two of you as he lazily paws at his growing hard on. He can’t take his eyes off how your tits bounce along with Katsuki’s thrusts as he finger-fucks you. The way he kisses you, how his bicep flexes with each movement, your muffled whines and how the intensity of his lust melts into your body - it’s magical to witness. Izuku barely watched porn, let alone two of his closest friends fuck in front of him. It was a whole new sensation and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Katsuki breaks your kiss and lowers himself to your ear, his tone dripping with desire.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. Come for me, baby.”

He curls his fingers against your walls, a mewl escaping your puffy lips as the hot and searing pressure that’s been building inside you comes crashing down. Your soaked cunt clenched around his fingers as you release, coating the rest of his hand and your inner thighs with your spend as his last few gestures audibly squish inside you.

"Mm, good girl," Katsuki sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck lovingly.

He plants wet kisses on your forehead, cheek, neck and collarbone before biting playfully at your nipple, a soft groan escaping you as you let your head fall in Izuku’s direction.

“Do you wanna touch me, Izuku?” You purr, eyes half-lidded from your orgasm a moment ago. Katsuki’s eyes dart to Izuku’s, lit with a fiery gleam, daring him to say ‘yes.’

"Yes!" Izuku squeaks, removing his hands from his lap and crawling toward you.

“C’mere,” Katsuki orders, grabbing Izuku and pushing him on his back. He grabs your wrists, pulling you to sit up as he shifts to the other side of Izuku’s body.

“Go ahead sweetheart, get on.”

“You okay with that?” You pat Izuku’s chest to sooth his nerves.

His voice is barely a whisper as he nods eagerly. “Y-yeah.”

You straddle Izuku’s face gracefully as Katsuki cups your breasts in his feverish palms. He scoffs as he looks down at your legs, removing his hands from your chest.

“Grab her ass or hold her thighs, idiot,” he scolds, placing Izuku’s hands on the outside of your thighs. “Y’better not disappoint her.”

Katsuki then moves behind you, straddling over Izuku’s chest as he rolls his fingers over your taut nipples. The texture of his calloused finger pads enhances the sensation running through every nerve in your body, arching your back into him while simultaneously riding Izuku’s face with vigor.

”You have such perfect tits, baby…I can’t get enough of ‘em,” Katsuki growls as he pushes his chest into your shoulders, teasingly tracing your hip with his twitching cock as he gropes you from behind.

Izuku is exploring every inch of your sticky center with his tongue, lazily collecting all of your previous arousal while occasionally sucking on your clit with a soft pop of his lips. His hands roam freely as Katsuki commanded him to, rotating between the plush of your ass and gripping onto your thighs.

“S-shit, ah…hah,” you try to speak, but your moans keep swallowing your words. “F-fuck, this i-is incredib-ah-le.”

“Try not drown him, sweets,” Katsuki teases, tongue traveling from behind your ear to your collarbone before he sinks his teeth into your supple flesh. You rock your hips forward violently from the bite, eliciting a groan from Izuku from below. The vibrations are sent right into your core, pulling on the tight thread that’s ready to snap in your belly for a second time.

Your hands frantically shoot in opposite directions, fisting a ball of hair down to the roots on each of them. You tugged down on Katsuki’s locks as you tilt back into his chest and pulled forward on Izuku’s to deepen his tongue in your sweltering center. Both of them grunt in tandem, coaxing you rapidly toward your climax.

"Kat-Izu-fff-fuck!" your brain stutters on who's name to whine as it's short circuiting from pleasure.

Colors start to flash behind your eyes as your second release spills out of you at full force, covering Izuku’s lips and jaw in a glistening display of affection. He gasps when your saturated lips lift away from his mouth, a string of saliva and slick connecting the two of you. His pants are hot against your mound as you stare down at him between your legs, slack jawed and attempting catching your breath.

With no hesitation, Katsuki grabs you by the hips and slides you down between Izuku’s thighs. As he lifts you, he glides your slit teasingly over Izuku’s shaft on the way down. He whimpers as a sticky trail is left behind, leaving a sheen of your cum along his cock.

”Slide up,” Katsuki huffs in Izuku's direction as he’s pushing you over between them, ass in the air.

You know where this is going.

Katsuki situates himself behind you, aligning his cock with your dripping entrance. Even as drenched as you were, you could still feel the slickness of the pre-spend dribbling from him as he swiped the tip through your folds. He laughs, euphoric with how wet you were for him.

“I wanna see ya work that magic fuckin’ tongue of yours all over Izuku’s dick while I fuck your pretty cunt,” Katsuki snarls, his grip on your hips tightening in anticipation.

His crimson stare settles with Izuku’s emerald gaze.

All Izuku can do in response is nod, the words dying in his throat as he yelps at the contact of your tongue running over his slit, catching all of his pre-spend in one go. He watches as you continue to work up and down his whole shaft, flicking your eyes up at him every chance you get. He’s twitching like mad against your lips, analyzing every sinful movement of your tongue and hot breath against his skin.

“Hah, exactly like that, baby,” Katsuki murmurs as he slams to the hilt into you, jolting you forward and bouncing Izuku’s cock off your cheek. The sudden fullness has you cry out in bliss, begging for friction as you rock back in to him.

"F-fuck, you're so fuckin'....ti-ah-ght," he moans, slurring his words as he's snapping his hips into you at a tantalizing tempo. He keeps mumbling but all you can make out are a few colorful curses and your name, his fingers indented in your hips as he watches his cock disappear into your weeping cunt repeatedly. You know Katsuki's not gonna last much longer by his pacing, and honestly? Neither will you, drunk on the heat-ridden spell he's cast upon you.

Izuku's breath is labored, his chest heaving as his thighs tremble when you begin to take him into your mouth - sucking to the rhythm of Katsuki's thrusts as he pumps in and out of you from behind. You hum with delight around Izuku's shaft with each jerk of Katsuki's hips, his entire body ablaze as he approached his breaking point.

"Hah, fff-y/n...I'm!" Izuku moans as he clumsily grabs a section of your hair, pulling you off as he spurts hot ropes of cum - haphazardly splattering across your cheeks, mouth and neck.

Like a chain reaction, Izuku's surprise facial mixed with Katsuki's cock repeatedly kissing your cervix sends you into delirium, your walls constricting around him as your eyes screw shut, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth. The thread in your core pulls taut, threatening to snap at any moment as incoherent noises are falling from your pursed lips.

"Fu-fuck Katsuki!" you scream, panting out his name again and again as you unravel beneath him, your orgasm wildly wracking your body.

"Shit-sh-oh fuck!" Katsuki hisses through gritted teeth as your abdomen floods with warmth, his seed seeping out of you and down your thighs as he rides out his release, a squelch with every additional thrust. Breathless, he pulls out of you and sits back on his knees. You can't help but sway, falling onto the bed lifelessly.

“Fuck, baby. You’re a mess,” he chuckles, a smile settling on his lips as he drinks in the sight of your wrecked body. Seeing your face covered in Izuku’s spend mixed with his own leaking out of your pulsing center is enough to get him hard again.

"Hah, sorry y/n, that wasn't my intention," Izuku says, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"'S fine...Kat does it to me all the time," you joke to the best of your ability, struggling to find energy to even move.

Katsuki leaves the room for a moment, returning with a warm wash cloth. He delicately wipes away all of the sticky messes on your body, tossing the cloth into the laundry basket in your bedroom. He climbs back onto the bed, snatching you into an embrace against him.

"Y'doin' okay, sweets?" Katsuki asked, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"Mm, mhm," you mutter, closing your eyes as you snuggle into his chest.

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, Kats," you trail off as you begin to drift off into a slumber.

Katsuki glances over to Izuku, grinning from ear to ear.

"Get your ass over here, I've got two arms."

Izuku's face flushes before scooting over to Katsuki, placing a tender kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Kacchan."

Katsuki turned Izuku's chin up toward him, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. "Yeah yeah."

couldn't stop thinking about bakugo talking with reader about potentially having a threesome, getting too flustered asking midoriya and just ending up making out with him instead. he's not good with words hehe

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugo x y/n #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bakudeku x reader #bakudeku #bakudeku smut #bkdk #☆.rei writes

426 notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Prisoner of the Mind

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You couldn't join March, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus on their trip to Jarilo-VI after Gepard and Sampo informed them of an issue in Belobog. The Astral Express is under attack, putting you and Pom-Pom in a dangerous situation, leading to you sacrificing yourself to save the train's conductor. Needless to say, the Aeon of Destruction was not too pleased about it.

Note: I have officially written the first hurt/comfort fic for the HSR one-shot series! I hope you all like this fic because I enjoyed typing it out, and it got me tearing up a little, not gonna lie! I have officially made a taglist for my Honkai Star Rail fics and series! It will be linked down below for those who want to be tagged in future fics (and along with past fics if you choose that option) ^^ Man, now I have to start planning this upcoming week's fic. I wonder what it will be 🤔 I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets attacked, mentions of blood

Word Count: 7.4k

Mr. Yang, March, Caelus, and Dan Heng is off the Astral Express, leaving you with Himeko and Pom-Pom. You usually tag along with them when they go trailblazing or when they’re exploring other ships and planets. But unfortunately, you can’t tag along with them this time because they’re going on a dangerous mission, and having you tag along with them can put your safety at risk. You didn’t want to get in their way by getting hurt or putting a target on your back just by being there. Actually, that was a lie because you offered to tag along with them, and they didn’t want you to go with them.

“There’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N],” Himeko says, ruffling your hair.

You sigh and lean back on the chair, looking out the window of the Astral Express. The stars are shining, and Jarlio-VI looks the same as it has always been. Iced over and devoid of life. There’s something nagging at you, but you can’t put your finger on it. It doesn’t feel pleasant, and you’re constantly looking out the window to see what’s going on, even though you can’t see what’s going on down there on Jarlio-VI.

A few days ago, while traversing through space in the Astral Express, Caelus received a text from Gepard and Sampo. Something was going on in Belobog, and they needed help as soon as possible. You offered to tag along, but of course, your offer was shot down almost immediately by the three men.

“You’re not going with us,” Mr. Yang states, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widen with disbelief. “What?! Why not? This isn’t the first time I’m tagging along with you guys!” You exclaimed, frowning at the older man.

Mr. Yang looks at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March as if he’s asking them to help him. The three stare in return before looking at you. You had this big frown on your face, and your eyebrows were furrowed with confusion and maybe anger. You were more confused than angry because why would you get upset over them not wanting you to tag along?

Dan Heng sighs. “Caelus received a text from Sampo and Gepard about the situation in Belobog. It won’t be safe if you come with us,” Dan Heng says.

You opened your mouth to retort but only to let out an apprehensive sigh. Caelus walks to you, grabs you by the shoulders, and gazes into your eyes while squatting down to your eye level. You turned your head to avoid his eyes, but Caelus grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

Caelus sighs and gives you a weak smile. “I know you want to come along with us, but we can’t have you come with us for your safety. The situation in Belobog is a safety risk for you, and we don’t want you to get hurt or caught in the middle of it all,” Caelus says.

How was it a safety risk for you when it’s also a safety risk for them? The only thing that’s different between you and them is that they have weapons, and you don’t. And you’re not from their world, but you’ve been adjusting to their universe just fine! With the help of your dear friends from the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI, you’re doing great at getting used to your new environments.

Caelus continues to stare at you with his honey-gold eyes. You sigh and close your eyes, turning your head away from Caelus. Caelus frowns and releases your chin from his grasp, turning to look at March, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng helplessly. March clears her throat, approaching you and Caelus with a faint smile.

“Oh, cheer up, [Y/N]! I know you want to tag along with us, but maybe you can stay back on the Astral Express just this once! Plus, it’s going to be somewhere freezing in Jarilo-VI, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be somewhere freezing while the four of us are out and about!” March says, propping her hands on her hips.

Damn, March isn’t wrong about that. You’re not a huge fan of the weather on Jarilo-VI, and standing in the blizzard while March, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus help Gepard and Sampo with the problems in Belobog is something you don’t want to do. An idea suddenly pops up in your head, and your eyes brighten. Since it’s Sampo and Gepard that contacted Caelus about the problem, you might as well hang out with Luka at Boulder Town Super League while they’re dealing with the situation.

You clear your throat. “Since the four of you, along with Sampo and Gepard, are going to be busy, can I hang out with Luka at the Boulder Town Super League?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Mr. Yang gives you a sympathetic smile and chuckles. “Sweetheart, Luka is going to be coming along with us as well. While we don’t have his phone number like you, Sampo mentioned bringing a friend with him for this situation,” said Mr. Yang.

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus’ heads snap toward Mr. Yang’s direction after hearing Mr. Yang’s slip up. Mr. Yang didn’t seem to notice it, and neither have you. Instead of throwing a fit or insisting that you tag along with them, you sighed in defeat and nodded. It looks like your chances of visiting Jarilo-VI are nonexistent at this point.

Caelus looks at Dan Heng, mouthing, ‘Sweetheart?’ only to earn a shrug from the black-haired man. Caelus clears his throat and nods. “Right, uh, Sampo mentioned a friend he’s bringing with him. As much as we would love to bring you along, we don’t want to give you a babysitter. Remember what happened last time?” Caelus asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

You pursed your lips and rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. Of course, you remembered what happened the last time you were assigned a babysitter. You got a golf ball-sized bump on your face with a bruise accompanying the bump. It wasn’t pretty, but you certainly met someone pretty that day. That person happened to be the friend of Sampo Koski himself, who is tagging along with your Astral Express and Belobog friends to the site of the issue.

“That’s beside the point. As harsh as it sounds, you’re not leaving the Astral Express. You can join us when we’re heading to the Xianzhou Luofu, alright?” Dan Heng said.

You nodded glumly. You can’t help but feel like you’re being grounded for something you didn’t do. But you will do as they say and stay on the train. March ruffled your hair before draping her arms over your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug.

You hugged March tightly. “When are you guys leaving?” You ask, peeking from March’s shoulders.

Mr. Yang replied almost immediately after you asked, “The Astral Express is heading there right now.”

“And how long will you five be gone for?” You ask.

“We don’t know how long we’ll be on Jarilo-VI. It can be a few days, a few hours, or longer than that, depending on the situation,” replied Dan Heng.

You frowned and pulled away from the hug, and sighed. There’s not much for you to do now. All you could do was hope for the best and that everyone involved came out unscathed and safe.

The conversation you had with your traveling companions was a few days ago, and they have yet to return to the Astral Express. You’re on edge and constantly check your phone to make sure they’re okay and alive. Luckily, they respond to your messages fast in the Astral Express group chat. The only time they won’t respond to your message is when they’re in the middle of something they can’t disclose. Of course, they let you know that ahead of time. And now you’re here, sitting on the Astral Express, looking out the window with zero interest.

Himeko sighs. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my cabin, alright? Feel free to stop by,” says Himeko, smiling at you before walking off after you nod.

Once you’re finally alone, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. No matter how many times you zoned out, time seems to be going slower than it is. You crack your eyes open and check your phone for the umpteenth time, only to see no notifications. Not even from Blade, Luocha, or Jing Yuan. Everyone is busy but you. Maybe a nap will take your mind off what’s going on, and maybe Nanook can keep you company.

After arriving at your bedroom, you plug your phone into the charger before collapsing on your bed and closing your eyes. You blindly reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch the light off. Exhaustion soon overcomes you, your eyelids feel heavy, and you slowly drift to sleep. You didn’t know how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, everything was pitch black.

You’re miffed that you didn’t see Nanook. You weren’t sure if Nanook was busy, but whenever you go to sleep, you always see Nanook. You didn’t think you did anything to make him upset, plus none of you have gotten off on the wrong foot. Something was wrong, and you don’t know what it is. You reach for the nightstand to turn the lights on, but it doesn’t turn on. You flip the switch repeatedly, but the room remains pitch-dark.

“Dammit. Is the lamp dead?” You sit up and blindly search for your phone in the darkness of your room. You turn your phone on to see that you got a message from Himeko.

1 Message from Himeko („• ֊ •„)

Himeko: “Hey, sleepy head! I got an urgent message from the gang, and they needed my assistance. Sorry to leave the Express without informing you about it. Remember to stay on the ship and do not leave! See you soon!”

You stare at the message that was sent forty-five minutes ago. You’re not sure if you should respond to Himeko’s message. But you didn’t want to leave her on read, so you typed out a message to the redhead.

Y/N: “Urgent message? Are they okay? I didn’t get a notification about it in the group chat…. Did they send the message to you separately?”

Message failed to send.

You furrow your eyebrows. That’s strange.

Y/N: “Himeko?”

Message failed to send.

You kick your blankets off your legs and run to the door. You swing the door open and freeze when you’re met with nothing but darkness. The only source of light was the starry skies shining from the window of the Astral Express. You clutch on your phone tightly, stepping into the pitch-black hallways, swallowing your fears. You turn your phone flashlight, shining it into the darkness that is the Astral Express. Is there a power outage? What happened to Pom-Pom? The thought of Pom-Pom hiding somewhere in the train makes you sprint out of the Passenger Cabins to the Parlor Car, mentally praying to yourself that Pom-Pom is at least safe.

The door to the Parlor Car slams open, and you run into the darkness, shining your phone flashlight while searching for the conductor. Despite there being windows in the train, it doesn’t make the train any brighter. You can’t hear anything else other than blood pounding in your ears. The silence is deafening.

You whimper out, “Pom-Pom? Are you there?”

You’re met with silence. Not even a peep from the conductor of the Astral Express. You hear something shuffling behind you, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the sound. There, hiding behind the chair, is Pom-Pom. Pom-Pom peeks from the chair, shivering with fear.

You sigh in relief. “There you are, Pom-Pom! I was so worried about you!” You said, jogging toward Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom’s eyes widen, pointing behind you. “Watch out!” Pom-Pom shrieks.

Without thinking, you dive to the ground. You roll over to your knees and turn to look at the thing Pom-Pom pointed at. Right behind you was the Voidranger Reaver, preparing to strike again. You gulp and slowly take a step back, grabbing onto Pom-Pom and pulling the conductor into your arms. There’s no way you and Pom-Pom will be able to escape without getting a couple of cuts.

There are so many questions you want to ask Pom-Pom, but your mind is racing and is all over the place. Your main objective is to try to escape with Pom-Pom and seek help. The Astral Express is no longer safe for you and Pom-Pom. Who knows what else is going to show up on the train.

“Help is on the way! I managed to send out an SOS signal to Himeko and Welt. They should be back soon,” Pom-Pom says, tugging on your shirt.

“How soon?” You whisper, eyes scanning the darkness, searching for an exit.

You’re fucked. You and Pom-Pom are doomed. There’s no escape. There’s no way for you to escape, and you’re fucking terrified. You want to cry. You’re shaking, but you’re trying your best to put on a brave face, but you’re not sure how long it’ll last. Whatever Pom-Pom was saying, it went in one ear and out the other. You grit your teeth, hugging Pom-Pom tightly to your chest before sprinting past the Voidranger Reaver.

The only safe place is your bedroom. You’re not sure if your bedroom door will be able to hold the Voidranger Reaver back. You’re not skilled in any weapon, it’s dark, and you don’t think Himeko and Mr. Yang will make it on time before something happens. You’re fucked. You’re fucked. You run to the Passenger Cabin, hearing the Voidranger Reaver sprinting after you.

You’re so close to your room. So close. You’re so close. Your feet hit the ground, Pom-Pom whimpering in fear, and the vicious growls from the Voidranger Reaver ring in your ears.

You’re so close to your bedroom. Before you can reach your bedroom, you come to a complete stop, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Two more Voidranger Reavers step out from the shadows, ready to attack you and Pom-Pom.

“[Y/N]....” Pom-Pom whimpers, tugging on your shirt.

You pat Pom-Pom’s back with shaky hands. “We’ll be okay, Pom-Pom. I promise,” you whisper. An idea pops up in your head. “Please forgive me, Conductor.”

“H-Hey! Why are you apologizing?!” Pom-Pom exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

You didn’t respond. You lift Pom-Pom and throw him over the two Voidranger Reavers and toward your bedroom. When Pom-Pom lands on the floor of your room, the three Voidranger Reavers start attacking you. Slicing your body to shreds. The sounds of your scream echo throughout the pitch-black train.

Your vision blurs, blood pours from every cut on your body, your ears ring, and your legs give out from underneath you. The last thing you see before darkness consumes your vision is the lights turning on in the Astral Express.

Nothing can prepare Welt, Himeko, Caelus, March, and Dan Heng when they arrive at the Astral Express. Sampo, Luka, and Gepard offered to come and help after the five Astral Express crew members were able to help the trio with the issue on Belobog. The Astral Express was under attack by a couple of Voidranger Reavers, but luckily it was only a small number. However, they weren’t prepared to see the damages the Voidranger Reavers caused when they stepped onto the Astral Express.

Furniture was thrown around, and objects were thrown around and askew. There were no signs of Pom-Pom on board, and there were no signs of you in the Parlor Car. Everyone was hoping you and Pom-Pom were safe somewhere on the Astral Express, but the moment they stepped into the Passenger Cabin, time seemed to have stood still from there.

You were lying lifeless on the ground while three Voidranger Reavers continuously slashed your body. Blood pooled from beneath you, painting the floors crimson red as the smell of copper filled the air. The door to your bedroom is wide open, letting the others get a glimpse of the shaking and sobbing train conductor. Dan Heng was the first to attack the Voidranger Reavers, and others soon followed after.

Once the three Voidranger Reavers were defeated and they all evaporated into thin air, Welt was immediately by your side, pressing his hand against your neck. There’s a pulse, but it’s faint. So faint that he can barely feel it with his gloves on— making him take his glove off and place his index and middle fingers on your neck to the side of your windpipe.

“Someone, contact the Xianzhou Luofu. We need all of the help we can get,” Caelus barks, covering your shredded and bleeding body with his jacket, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Caelus, Welt, and Dan Heng carefully lift you from the ground. March rushes over to a sobbing Pom-Pom, comforting the train conductor while rushing Pom-Pom out of the Passenger Cabin. Gepard, Sampo, and Luka look at one another, not saying a word.

Sampo runs his trembling hands through his hair. “They’re not going to die, are they? Please tell me they’ll be okay,” Sampo whispers, biting on his bottom lip.

“They’ll be okay. They have to be! There’s no way any of us will let them slip from our fingers,” Gepard replies, his hands shaking.

“How can you be so sure? [Y/N] lost so much blood! The floors are literally painted with their blood,” Luka mutters, his eyes never leaving the pool of blood on the once pristine floors of the Astral Express.

The only thing they can do is wait to arrive. While Dan Heng, Welt, and Caelus are trying to put pressure on your wounds to stop the bleeding, Himeko struts through the hallways of the Astral Express with Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade following close behind. While Himeko mainly contacted Luocha about the situation, Luocha was quick to inform Jing Yuan and Blade of the state you’re in.

“Hand them to me,” Luocha states, holding his arms out.

Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus carefully lower your body in Luocha’s arms before watching the blond man disappear to your bedroom to tend your wounds. Jing Yuan and Blade stare at the bloodied floor. There were bloody handprints on the walls and floors of the Astral Express. You tried to put up a fight, but you were outnumbered and were brutally injured by the Voidrangers Reavers.

Jing Yuan sighs, rubbing his temples. “How did this happen?”

Blade chuckles humorlessly. “And I thought the Astral Express was safe for [Y/N] to stay at, but I was wrong,” Blade mutters.

“I understand we’re all tensed and worried about [Y/N], but now is not the time to start an argument. I don’t care who you are or what you mean to [Y/N]. They’re in their room, fighting for their life right now, and you think it’s a good time to start something?” Gepard demands, glaring at the long, dark-haired man before him.

Blade’s red eyes flicker to Gepard’s face, staring at the Captain of the Silvermane Guards wordlessly. Blade clenches his jaws, walking over to the closed door of your room. He leans against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to listen to any sound that comes from your room. He hears nothing.

“Cheer up, everyone! On the bright side, Mr. Yang was able to feel a pulse. The downside is waiting for them to recover,” Sampo says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Luka sighs, closing his eyes. “While we wait for Luocha to treat [Y/N]’s injuries, we should organize and clean up the Astral Express while we wait,” Luka comments.

Everyone was reluctant to leave the Passenger Cabin to organize the furniture of the Parlor Car. The Parlor Car took less damage and wasn’t nearly as horrendous as the Passenger Cabin. Pom-Pom had a hard time trying to resume his duties as the conductor of the Astral Express. All Pom-Pom wanted to do was to check and see if you were okay. Still, the others prevented him from entering the Passenger Cabin because the Passenger Cabin was going under a deep clean.

“[Y/N] will be okay, Pom-Pom. You have nothing to worry about. Luocha is tending [Y/N]’s wounds right now, and he should be finished soon,” Jing Yuan reassures Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom sniffles, blinking at the General while his bottom lips tremble. The others don’t know what else to say to console the conductor. Pom-Pom witnessed you get attacked mercilessly. You willingly sacrifice yourself to make sure Pom-Pom is safe and out of harm’s way. While scared shitless and fearing for your life, you put someone else before you because you would rather take the hit than have someone take the hit for you.

“I’m going to make sure there aren’t any breaches on the train,” Blade mutters, walking away from the group.

After what feels like days, Luocha steps into the Parlor Car, looking visibly relieved. Everyone immediately stands up, walking to the blond man. Luocha rubs his temples, letting out a deep breath.

“After five hours of treating [Y/N]’s injuries, [Y/N] is now in a stable condition. If any of you are going to stop by and make sure they’re okay, please keep your voices down while they rest,” Luocha instructs.

Luocha turns around and walks to your bedroom, with everyone following. The Passenger Cabin is clean, and there aren’t any traces of your blood left behind. The smell of cleaning solution and air freshener wafts through the air, drowning the smell of your blood that barely lingers in the air. Luocha grabs the handle to your room and slides the door open. One by one, each person steps into your dimly lit bedroom. You lay on your bed, sound asleep. Bandages wrap around your body from the neck down, while small bandaids patch up the smallest cuts on your face.

“How long will it take for them to recover?” Sampo whispers, turning to look at Luocha.

Luocha shrugs, sighing. “That’s the issue. I don’t know how long it’ll take for them to recover. [Y/N] is in stable conditions, but now it’s up to them on when they will regain their consciousness,” Luocha replies.

Gepard takes a step toward your bed, grabbing your frail hands and brushing his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your hands. To any other person, you look like you’re asleep, dreaming about anything. But to the others, it seems like you’re lying on your deathbed with one foot in the grave. It’s terrifying. To see you in such a state scares everyone.

Gepard clears his throat. “And you said they’re in stable condition, correct?” Gepard asks, keeping his eyes on you.

Luka clears his throat. “I believe Luocha mentioned that a few times already, Gepard,” Luka comments, approaching the blond man and standing by his side.

Poor sweet Gepard. The once cool, calm, and collected Captain of the Silvermane Guard has a hard time trying to digest the image before him. Gepard is trying everything in his power not to break down in tears in front of everyone around him. You almost died. You were standing in front of death’s doorsteps, ready to walk through the doors, leaving him and the others for good.

But you didn’t walk through those doors. Luocha managed to heal you and patch your wounds, preventing you from taking your last breath.

Jing Yuan sits at the edge of your bed, tucking you in your bed and brushing your hair away from your face. Jing Yuan sighs, caressing your cheek. “What horrors did you face before your unfortunate fate?” Jing Yuan whispers, scanning your unconscious face.

Everyone remains silent in your room, staring at your unconscious body. Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus can’t help but drown in guilt. You wanted to join them, and they wouldn’t let you tag along with them due to safety concerns. But look where that landed you in. You’re injured, you were so close to death, but Luocha was able to save you and prevent that from happening.

Everyone starts to slowly and reluctantly leave your bedroom. Before they leave, they would squeeze your unconscious hand and whisper apologies for not arriving on time and for failing to protect you. Everyone is ridden with guilt. Soon enough, you’re left alone in the comfort of your bedroom.

You jerk up with a gasp, only to find yourself in someone’s muscular arms. You look up to see Nanook. The Aeon stares down at you while cradling you in his arms. You blink at him and rub your eyes sleepily, looking around the void. You freeze when you realize you’re not your regular height. You’re almost the same height as Nanook. You and Nanook are covering the sun and the sky.

Nanook tucks your hair behind your ears, kissing the shell of your ears, sighing. “How are you feeling, little one?” Nanook whispers.

“I’m tired, but I’m also confused,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

You and Nanook sit in silence. Nanook runs his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back and holding you close to his chest. There’s no space between you two, but you didn’t mind it. It feels nice to be in someone’s arms. It feels nice to be held. You’ve been yearning for someone to touch and hold you. You can’t help but notice your entire body feels tingly. You shift around in Nanook’s arms, opening your eyes to look down at your body. When you did that, you let out a choked gasp and jolted in Nanook’s grasp, startling the Aeon of Destruction.

You hold out your arm, looking up at Nanook. “Nanook... What’s going on!?” You whisper.

There are stars decorating your skin from head to toe. The stars glitter on your skin like diamonds and precious gems. It’s all over your body, and you don’t know what to do, nor do you know how it got there. You try to wipe it off your skin, only for it not to budge. It’s like you have an entire galaxy scattering across your body.

Nanook grabs your chin and tilts your head up. “The stars are healing you, little one. You were gravely injured back on the train. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer,” Nanook whispers.

You swallow the lump in your throat. The Astral Express. The attack. Pom-Pom. You sacrifice yourself to save Pom-Pom. All of it happened so fast that you could barely process the thought of it. Wait a minute, you’re not dead, are you? Sure, Nanook said the stars are healing you, but what about your physical body outside of your mind? Outside of the void?

“I’m not dead, am I?” You whisper.

Nanook snorts, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart. You’re not dead, little one. Your physical body is currently recovering. That blond man was able to heal your injured body,” Nanook says, kissing your forehead.

You close your eyes, sighing in relief. You’re so glad you’re not dead.

“Besides, I wouldn’t let you die. Not on my watch,” Nanook mutters.

You smile, wrapping your arms around Nanook’s torso and sighing with contentment. It’s just you and Nanook in the void. No dangers lurking in the corner, no one to bother you. It’s just you and Nanook surrounded by the glittering stars of the abyss, enjoying each other’s presence in silence.

While you’re with Nanook, your physical body has healed back to its original form before the attack. No scars are left on your body, and there are no bruises and small cuts. You look good as new. Luocha did a fantastic job at healing your body, and he would like to pat himself on the back for that. Despite your body being fully healed and in perfect condition, you did not wake up.

You’re still unconscious, but it’s like you’re sleeping instead of being in a coma. You move around in your sleep and react to the sounds around you, but you have yet to open your eyes since the attack.

“I thought they would regain their consciousness by now,” Blade mutters, sitting at the end of your bed while staring at your unconscious body.

Luocha sighs, getting up from your bed and crossing his arms over his chest. “While [Y/N] is physically healed of their injuries, it’s up to them to decide when to wake up from their unconsciousness,” says Luocha.

“But it's been days since the attack! How much longer are they going to be unconscious? Are you sure [Y/N]’s okay?” Sampo asks, looking at Luocha pleadingly.

Yes, it’s been days since the incident, and there are no signs of you waking up any time soon. Yes, you react to the noises around you, and yes, you’re physically okay and have healed from your injuries, but you’re still not awake. March wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up and then go back to sleep to play tricks on everyone, so she would check up on you every other hour (if she wasn’t asleep).

Everyone has decided to stop by your room to visit you every day, making sure you’re still breathing. Luocha even took that chance to make sure there weren’t any internal injuries or bleeding, and thankfully, there were none. You’re physically okay, but mentally…. They’re not sure about that.

“They must’ve been so scared in their final moments,” March whispers.

Caelus gives March a look. “March, why are you putting it that way? It’s like you’re implying [Y/N]’s dead!” Caelus scolds the pink-haired girl.

March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s been days since we last saw [Y/N] open their eyes! Not being able to text them, talk to them, hang out with them feels like an eternity!” March exclaims.

While unconscious, you still managed to pick up every noise around you. You flinch and whimper in your unconscious state, eyebrows furrowing. Mr. Yang looks at March and Caelus, shaking his head with disapproval.

“March, I understand you miss them, but you need to remember that we can’t control when they can regain consciousness,” says Mr. Yang.

Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose before approaching your bed. He sits at the edge of your bed and stares at your unconscious face. The longer Dan Heng stares at your face, the more he realizes something is off.

“What’s that?” Dan Heng asks.

Gepard walks over to where Dan Heng is standing, watching the black-haired man gently grab your face and tilt your head to the side. The others crowd behind Dan Heng and Gepard, staring at your face while trying to see what Dan Heng is looking at. If anyone were to blink, they would’ve missed it because it was quick to appear and disappear.

Gold runs through your veins across your face. The pattern reminds them of thunder. It starts at the base of your neck, slithering up and across your face before disappearing. Gepard gently nudges Dan Heng to caress your head. Gepard pulls your eyelids up, and alas, the color of your eyes changes from your original eye color to gold.

“Could it be….?” Gepard trails off, furrowing his eyebrows with concentration.

Gepard blinks, and your eyes return to their original color. Blade turns to look at the other men, his chest puffing with anger while gritting his teeth. He clenches his hands into tight fists until they turn white underneath his gloves.

“Is it possible for Nanook, the Aeon of Destruction, to hold [Y/N] as a prisoner in their mind?” Blade asks.

Jing Yuan chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t be certain that Nanook is holding [Y/N] a prisoner in their mind. It’s possible that the Aeon is doing that, but [Y/N] sustained many injuries, and it’s possible their body is keeping them in a comatose state for them to fully heal mentally and physically,” Jing Yuan explains.

Luka hums, shrugging his shoulders. While Luka may have known you for a short time compared to the other men, he doubts Nanook is going to harm you. Before meeting you, Sampo and Gepard would describe you as “Nanook’s chosen one” to Luka. It’s a ridiculous title, but it’s the best they can do to describe how important you are to Nanook. They would praise your beauty and mention the strong connection they feel to you when they’re with you and when they meet you for the first time.

“What if Nanook is keeping [Y/N] asleep because he’s worried about their safety? Like Blade said, it’s possible for Nanook to keep them as a prisoner. I don’t think prisoner isn’t the best way to describe the situation, but Nanook has never hurt [Y/N], has he?” Luka asks, turning to look at the eight men.

Mr. Yang sighs, shaking his head. “[Y/N] never mentioned anything about Nanook hurting them in any way. The only thing we know is that Nanook is very fond of [Y/N], hence why they’re in our world in the first place. Nanook would communicate with [Y/N] through their dreams every time they fall asleep,” Mr. Yang explains, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

While the men are discussing the situation and what they all have witnessed, in your unconscious mind, you’re lying against Nanook. You don’t know how long you’ve been with Nanook, but you like the peace and quiet. While you love being in the void with Nanook, basking in his presence, light touches, and affections, you can’t help but find the void a little bit dull and boring.

How does Nanook deal with this alone? Maybe Nanook is used to it because he’s been around for thousands of years compared to you, a newcomer. You move away from Nanook, grabbing the Aeon’s attention. You sigh, looking around at the sparkling stars in the night sky. Nanook peeks at you, gazing at you worriedly when you let out an apprehensive sigh. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his bare chest against your back.

Nanook presses his lips against the shell of your ear. “What’s wrong? Why are you sighing like that?” Nanook murmurs, massaging your hip bones while resting his chin on your shoulders.

How do you tell Nanook that you know he’s keeping you in your “dreams” for a long time? You tried to wake up, but you can’t. You have tried many methods of trying to wake yourself up from this never-ending dream, only to fail in the end. You love being with Nanook, and you don’t mind being in the void with the Aeon, but you can’t possibly stay here forever, can you?

“I know you’re keeping me here, and you’re not letting me leave,” you said hesitantly.

Crap that sounds bad. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Think, [Y/N], think! You turn to look at the Aeon of Destruction, who gazes at you blankly. Even though Nanook is gazing at you emotionlessly, you can’t help but feel intimidated by the look he’s giving you. You gulp and grab Nanook’s hands, squeezing them.

You smile at him. “I’m not upset with you for wanting to keep me here. I want to know why you’re keeping me here and refusing to let me wake up,” you murmur.

Nanook sighs, releasing your hand before backing away from you. You let your hands fall to your side as you watch him grow in size. It took you a few seconds to realize you’re back to your original size, and Nanook is now towering over you, still covering the sun and the sky. Fuck, Nanook is not upset with you, is he?

“That is none of your concern, little one,” Nanook states, crossing his arms over his chest.

You frown. “It is very much my business, Nanook. You’re keeping me here with you when my physical body is lying on my bed, unconscious, while my friends are probably wondering why I’m still not awake!” You exclaim.

You wince when your voice echoes in the abyss. Nanook stares at you with a deep frown. You sigh, turning away from Nanook and walking away. You didn’t get far. A hand grabs your wrist, turning you around to face the hand that belongs to a certain Aeon. Nanook, now standing before you, is frowning at you. While he’s the size of a regular person, he continues to tower over you like the men you call your very friends. You assume Nanook is the same height as Jing Yuan but maybe slightly taller than the white-haired General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

“Your friends failed to keep you safe. They left you alone on that train, and what happened? The Astral Express was under attack, and it nearly cost your life!” Nanook growls. “You’re safer here with me than you are with them! Why should I trust them to be around you when they failed at something they were supposed to do in the first place?!”

Tears blur your vision, and you look away from Nanook. Nanook sighs and caresses your face, wiping the tears that slowly make their way down your cheeks. He pulls you into his arms, wrapping both arms around your shoulders while caressing the back of your head and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, my precious gem. Witnessing you getting attacked and not being able to do something about it hurts me deeply. I thought I could trust your traveling companions to protect you, but I was wrong,” Nanook murmurs.

You tighten your grip around Nanook, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s not Nanook’s fault for not being able to protect you, nor is it your friends’ fault either. They wanted you to stay on the Astral Express to protect you, and it was going smoothly until the Astral Express was under attack. It wasn’t like they could predict what was going to happen to the train while they were away.

You swallow the lump in your throat, rubbing Nanook’s back. “It’s no one’s fault, Nanook. My friends were trying to protect me from the dangers on Jarilo-VI, but they didn’t think the Astral Express was going to be under attack. Please don’t blame them or yourself. It’s no one’s fault,” you whisper, pulling away from the hug.

Nanook stares at you. A deep frown remains on Nanook’s face while his eyebrows are furrowing with frustration. You gingerly reach up to Nanook’s face, rubbing his eyebrows, causing the Aeon to stare at you with confusion. Nanook grabs your wrist, raising an eyebrow at you. You and Nanook stare at each other in silence.

“What are you doing?” Nanook mutters, tilting his head to the side.

You clear your throat, lowering your hands awkwardly. “You were furrowing your eyebrows. I thought I should smooth the scrunch away,” you reply.

Nanook smiles with amusement, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “Stars, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” Nanook thinks, squeezing you so tight you swear your back might pop. “Why can’t I have you for myself?”

Nanook snaps out of his thoughts when you call his name softly.

“Are you alright?” You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft, luscious hair.

Nanook exhales deeply through his nostrils, nodding in response. Nanook doesn’t want you to regain your consciousness outside of the void. He can keep you here for eternity for all he’d like, but that would be selfish of him to do so. But why does it matter? Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe in the first place! Why do other people have to interfere and develop feelings for you too? It’s simply not fair. Nanook wants you for himself, and he doesn’t want to share you with anyone.

POP!

You groan and pat Nanook’s biceps to grab his attention. “You just popped my back, Nanook. Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, lightly pushing him away to get a clear look at his face.

Nanook quickly apologizes and peppers your face with small kisses. You sigh and lean into his arms while he sways side to side with you. Your eyelids begin to get heavy as you slowly fall asleep, your vision turning black, and the last thing you feel is Nanook kissing your forehead.

The voices around you are muffled, almost like you’re underwater, and they’re above the surface. As you regain consciousness, you realize the voices around you are bickering. You groan and smack the nearest thing, earning a loud yelp.

“Ouch! Gumdrop, why did you hit me?!” Sampo whines.

You crack your eyes open to see nine faces peering down at you. Dear Aeons, you did not expect to see nine faces staring at you while you were unconscious. You rub your eyes and try to sit up. Sampo tackles you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You groan when you feel your back pop. Gepard and Luocha grab Sampo by the shoulders and pull the indigo-haired man back.

“Be careful! [Y/N] is still recovering from their injury,” Gepard says, shaking his head with disapproval.

Luocha kneels beside you and brushes your hair from your face. “How are you feeling, Stardust? Any aches and pains?” Luocha asks, eyeing you closely.

You move your arms, move and stretch your legs. So far, you feel fine as ever! “I feel okay. Nothing is hurting, but I do feel like I need to go to a chiropractor,” you say, rubbing the knot in your back.

“[Y/N]. We’re so sorry this happened to you. You wanted to join us, and we didn’t let you accompany us to Jarilo-VI because we wanted to keep you safe from danger. Instead, the Astral Express was under attack, and you were gravely injured,” Caelus says, grabbing your hands and squeezing them.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew this was going to happen, Caelus. No one is at fault,” you whisper.

“We feel guilty for what happened. We’re not leaving you on the Astral Express alone next time. You’re safer with us than you are alone. Whether you’re on the Astral Express or not,” says Dan Heng.

You open your mouth to respond, but the lights in your room flicker on and off. The men standing around your bed tense up and form a barrier around you, drawing their weapons. The silence in your room was loud, so loud that everyone in the room could hear heavy footsteps approaching your room. The door swings open and enters a towering figure.

You peek between Jing Yuan and Blade’s shoulders, eyes widening when you see…

“Nanook. What are you doing here?” You whisper, getting up from your bed.

You’re about to walk toward Nanook, but Blade and Jing Yuan block your way, glaring at the Aeon of Destruction. Nanook raises his eyebrows at Blade and Jing Yuan, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Nanook clears his throat, watching the nine men stand around you while gazing at the Aeon warily.

Nanook sighs. “Since your…. Friends…. Can barely protect the one I find most precious and hold dear to my heart, I might as well join you on your journey across the universe,” says Nanook.

Blade clenches his jaws. “Oh? The Aeon of Destruction is joining us in our journey?” Blade sneers, tightening his grip around the sword.

“Should we trust him?” Luka whispers, not taking his eyes off the Aeon of Destruction.

Nanook merely rolls his eyes and walks toward the group, reaching over Blade and Jing Yuan to grab you. Nanook wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you forward. Nanook wraps his arms around your waist and kisses the side of your head, refusing to take his eyes off the group behind you.

Jing Yuan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Keep your guard up at all times,” Jing Yuan instructs, keeping his eyes on the Aeon.

Perhaps you should’ve stayed a prisoner in your mind. The tension between your traveling companions and Nanook is so thick and awkward. You don’t know what to do other than be caught in the middle of the ten men. Nine of the men are glaring at the Aeon while the Aeon is running his fingers through your hair, gazing at the fuming nine men with mirth. Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Note: I hope you all like this fic! Nanook is officially physically in the fic! >:D I wonder what's going to happen now that Nanook is physically in the fic with everyone now! Also, I hope you Luocha wanters have Luocha now! I have Luocha after spending money because Welt ended up coming home instead of Luocha 🥹 Got me spending all of my stellar jades too 😔 anyway! For those who want to be tagged in upcoming HSR fics, I have finally made a taglist form right [HERE]! Oh, and for those who want to, my discord is officially opened! This link is temporary and will expire after seven days. If you want to join, here is the link to [Zhongli's Abode]! If you like the server, you can stay! If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever you want! Please make sure to read the server rules when you join the server ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR fics: Will be tagging people when the taglist form is filled out :)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #Luka x reader #genshinluvr

2K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

651 notes · View notes

charmandabear · 4 months

Text

Yule

Summary:

While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too

Read it on AO3.

Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break.

You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it.

You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find.

You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.

You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were.

As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not.

He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey.

“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core.

“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away.

“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell.

Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you.

You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.

He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.

He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.

“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl.

“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.

“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.

“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.

“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver.

He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.

Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.

He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.

“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.

The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.

“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.

You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.

You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.

You nipped at his earlobe.

Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.

You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.

Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.

“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.

“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion fluff #fluff and smut #baldurs gate smut #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion

452 notes · View notes

steddie-island · 4 months

Text

Maybe it's not so obvious

@steddiemas day 16 - Angst themed sentence starters | WC: 996 | Rating: M (for language) | CW for light angst See full list of tags on ao3

“Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.”

Steve looked like he’d been kicked, and Eddie regretted his words immediately. Still, he had to put how he felt out there. He had to let Steve know that he was doing a terrible goddamn job of concealing the fact that he was miserable here. “Stop looking at me like that, like I just grew a second head. It’s true, and you know it.”

“No it isn’t.” Steve was still frowning, and Eddie had the urge to reach out and smooth a thumb over his brow. He was going to get wrinkles if he kept doing that– not that Eddie had a problem with that, but the hundreds of dollars of skincare shit in Steve’s bathroom probably didn’t appreciate him making the problem worse. Eddie shifted where he stood and carefully made his way past the boxes of Christmas decorations scattered around the living room. The crutches made it easier for him to get around, but he’d proven a few times now that he could still fall while he was using them. “Just– stop lying, Steve. I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting, man. You– you’ve barely touched me, you won’t look at me. Just– stop pretending, all right? Do us both a favor and– go.” He fell onto the couch with a grunt, spent several long moments getting comfortable before he finally looked up at Steve.

Steve, whose eyes were wide and wet. “Eddie, you don’t– you don’t really think I don’t want to be here, do you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m pretty goddamn sure I just made it obvious that I know you don’t want to be,” he said. His voice was soft, despite the heat he meant to be behind his words. “You don’t want to be here, and maybe– maybe I don’t want you here, either.” Lie. That was a lie. Eddie wanted Steve here so bad that it made him ache, which made Steve’s wanting to be gone so bad hurt that much more.

“You don’t… want me here?” Steve whispered. It was different if Eddie thought he didn’t want to be here, but if Eddie didn’t want him here…

Eddie couldn’t answer, though, was suddenly very interested in the hole in the knee of his jeans. He’d barely gotten the lie out once, if Steve poked and prodded it was all going to come spilling out.

“Eddie.” Steve took a second to move two boxes of decorations out of the way so Eddie could get around better later– always so goddamn thoughtful, even when he was being yelled at. “Eddie. Do… do you really not want me here?”

Eddie made a soft sound but didn’t look away from his knee. Why would Steve want to be here? Why would Steve choose to be in their shitty government bought trailer– which was less shitty than the trailer they’d lived in before, to be sure, but it was still a shitty trailer. Why would he want to be with Eddie when he had that big beautiful house, that he was sure was just dripping with decorations put up by some overpriced professional who carried a fucking chihuahua in her purse, even here in fucking Hawkins. His parents might not be there, but he could have Robin there, and the kids. Steve had no fucking reason to want to be here. With him.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was small, quiet, and when Eddie looked over at him and saw the hurt on his face, he wanted to kick his own ass.

“C’mon, Steve. I mean– why would you want to be here?” he asked, voicing some of his feelings finally. “I’ve seen you. The last few days you’ve walked around looking like you want to puke. I touch you, you pull away like you can catch something from me. If you’re tired of me–” He was cut off with a kiss, with Steve simultaneously pulling him in and surging forward himself, until their lips met in a kiss that was messy and clumsy.

It certainly did the job, though, and when they broke apart Eddie’s eyes were wide.

“I didn’t realize– I wasn’t trying to tell you that I don’t want to be here.” Steve swallowed hard. “I’ve been– trying not to let it out that I’m– these past few months, since you got out of the hospital… they’ve meant the world to me. Getting to know you, and your uncle… Fuck, Eddie. How could I want to be anywhere but here with you?” He swallowed. “I’ve been trying not to be a creep. I mean– I’ve helped you in the bath. What kind of pervert does that make me? And then the other day– you made a joke about mistletoe and I let myself hope for just a moment that maybe you could want me, too, but if you don’t–”

It was Steve’s turn to get cut off as Eddie gripped the lapels of his stupid fucking polo and pulled him in close. This kiss was clumsy, too, but as Steve wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and slipped closer, as Eddie leaned back into the corner of the couch and pulled Steve into his lap, it melted into something better, something warm and soft and so fucking tender.

“I want you here,” Eddie whispered. “I’ve wanted you here the whole time, Stevie baby.”

“And I want to be here,” Steve murmured back. He lifted a hand to comb through Eddie’s hair, like he’d done a dozen times before, only this time he wasn’t just trying to help Eddie keep it untangled after a bath. “I’ve wanted to be here the whole time. Since before you woke up.”

“I’m a fucking idiot.” Eddie shook his head and pulled Steve closer, until the other boy was practically lying on top of him. “Forgive me?” Steve bumped their noses together. “Only if you kiss me again.”

Eddie grinned, and was more than happy to comply.

#Steddiemas #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #Steddie #Steddie drabble #Steve x Eddie #Holiday drabble #My fic #My writing

430 notes · View notes

everparanoid · 5 months

Text

Make me lose my breath, make me water ┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , NSFW

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: Cunnilingus, consent is hot, Reader is from Natlan, cuffs used inappropriately, Body Worship, My First Smut, Fontaine is France but it's not but it is, PWF, PWP, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), Creampie, biting kink, Written After 4.1 Update, Minor spoilers for 4.0 quest, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, light orgasm denial

wordcount: 6.1k

synopsis: The notorious Duke of the fortress of Meropide hasn't been on his A-game lately, and it shows.

Originally posted: 25.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: 'Water' by Tyla.

Three quick knocks rattled the door to his large office. The sound echoed up to the second floor where his desk resided.

“Come in,” Wriothesley said not looking up from his papers.

Wriothesley was a busy man. Well, being the Duke of the self-running, man-powered Fortress of Meropide wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t exhausting either, but that was beside the point.

He took a slow prolonged sip from his teacup. The second sip in the last hour; the flavoured water had long since cooled from the general chill in the office. Not that he could feel anything beyond the normal chill of the underwater Fortress; and with the added benefit of his cryo vision he considered himself well-suited for the climate. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the sun. Although, he could see the sun whenever he found a reason to leave the fortress, which he often didn’t.

He sighed for the fifth time that hour.

“I hear you’ve been doing that a lot,” You said ascending the spiralled staircase.

He paused and lowered his teacup, placing it on the small pile of report papers he was using as a mat. One side of his lips raised threatening to become a half smile. He quickly wiped it away.

“Oh? Have I now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice smooth and confident. “I think I’m going to have to report you to Sigewinne.”

“Am I to assume she isn’t the one who sent you?”

His eyes met yours as you arrived atop the stairs, a hand on your hip and that sassy look in your eyes that he had grown fond of. He realised now why he had been so distracted.

He missed you.

You often frequented the fortress. First as a commissioned messenger between Wriothesley and Neuvillette, then a ‘convict’, and after that a friend and now… he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain about the company. It was nice having someone as into tea as he was. Not that he would admit it, but it got lonely in the Fortress sometimes. More so since he met you.

“What? You afraid of a couple of stickers?”

“You know about that?” he grumbled, glancing at the pile of crumpled Melusine stickers littering the side of his desk, freshly pulled off the back of his coat.

“I have ears everywhere, Your Grace,” you smirk, withholding the crucial fact that you were the culprit providing the stickers for Sigewinne and her Melusine friends. They paid you back in giggles and smiles, and just the joy on their small faces was enough for you.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably know more about what’s happening in my humble home than me,” he said. Only a half lie on his part. You had an aptitude for making tough things bend to your will. Him being the toughest of things in question. He dismissed the thought of you flashing that blinding smile at anyone other than him.

Your shoulders rose and fell as a melodic laugh left your lips and graced his ears. If he could keep your voice in a bottle, he would.

You shook your head and pushed off the railing. His attention remained on you as you took a seat on the settee a bit away from his desk. His throat—as if he hadn’t just taken a sip of his cold tea— felt overwhelmingly dry. He cleared it gently and picked up his teacup.

“How’s the Traveler and Paimon?” he asked, taking a sip.

The flavoured water was colder. He needed to calm down lest he froze the entire thing. He imagined you would be the only one to find amusement in him sipping ice.

You crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up. He looked away respectfully, much to his dismay and the favour of his quickly deteriorating will. He didn’t remember when it happened. When he started seeing you as more than just the middle woman between Neuvillette and himself; more than just a pawn in this game against the fatui, but now he found himself knowing the way your cheek dimpled slightly only on your right cheek when you laugh; how the skin around your eyes crow when you yawn or squint; how you change to fix your posture every thirty minutes when you’re lost in a book, and your neck starts to get sore, and your lower back begs to be stretched out. He pulled himself out of his thoughts before they had a chance to spiral further.

“They send their regards and a thank you for your help with ‘the situation,’” you said making air quotes. You didn’t mention how you didn’t plan to return to them for a while, but some things were best left unsaid with Wriothesley.

Wriothesley nodded and gestured for you to join him in for some tea.

“If you have some time, of course,” he finished.

“Of course, If you are offering,” you responded.

You went to stand but Wriothesley beat you to it. Thankful for the excuse to busy himself with something other than your smouldering presence. If he was an icy avalanche, then you were like a raging inferno, melting him into warm water. Perhaps it had something to do with the pyro vision dangling from your hip. He glanced at the vision and caught a glimpse of your bare legs. He froze, curious about what colour you might be wearing underneath your skirt: black, white, blue, red? Instead, he was beyond relieved when he saw black shorts. He breathed a sigh. That’s so you.

“I can heat the pot, you know?” you say, growing increasingly more tired of his strange mood and equally as obscure silence. Never had Wriothesley sighed so much. Honestly, you never would have considered him a sigher; more a hmpher or a quiet snickering type.

You and everyone in Fontaine who had the pleasure or misfortune—mostly the misfortune—of knowing the Duke, knew that recently he had been off. In truth, your visit hadn’t been to express Neuvillette’s message (though that made a great cover). No, you were there because of a chain of strange letters from Sigewinne, given to you by an equally as annoyed Clorinde, telling you of the Duke’s bizarre behaviour. According to these letters, he was more attentive than usual. He had appeared around the fortress checking in on the production zones and the inmates an alarming number of four times in the last month, nearly causing several heart attacks amongst the inmates, which as a result caused Sigewinne to be on high alert from all the overworking; he hasn’t been partaking in as many fights in the ring, and he hasn’t been drinking as much tea.

It was the last two on the list that shocked you the most and was most of the reason why you were there now. Wriothesley not drinking tea? Was Fontaine’s archon a fraud?

Uncrossing your legs, you stood and approached him. Placing a hand on the teapot, you heated the water with your vision.

“Let me do that," you said.

You sounded more breathless than you had intended to, but being so close to him does that to you. He always managed to take your breath away, but you had stupidly thought that with time those senseless reactions would die upon learning more about the mysterious brutish duke. The way all crushes faded when the mystic i.e., the lack of information and the delusions of projection, disappeared. Instead, it seemed to have only worsened. A butterfly somersaulted in your stomach when you accidentally brushed your hand against his.

Wriothesley stiffened. The touch went straight to his gut.

“Why are you here?” he responded smoothly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not that he was concerned about why you were here—he couldn’t be happier—but you were supposed to be away for the next six months on a quest with the traveler to your home region, Natlan. Had Sigewinne called you back out of concern for him? He had to be more careful around the small nurse in the future.

“Your tea collection isn’t as depleted as usual,” you observed, staring into the box filled with other miniature boxes of tea, skilfully deflecting the question.

“An interrogation. You’re making me nervous,” he joked. “I am a busy man, I don’t always have time for tea.”

The look you fixed him with was not amused.

“You always drink at least three cups a day,” you said putting stress on the ‘at least.’ If it wasn’t tea, it would be a terrible addiction.

“Wow, you’re counting? I’m impressed.”

“Which flavour do you want?” you said, ignoring him.

“The special blend.”

Without a second thought, you plopped the tea bag into the teapot and left it to brew.

It was your favourite, and that is why he chose it. He was more of a black tea or green tea kind of person, but the special blend he had made specifically for you. You didn’t know that though; you didn’t have to, he enjoyed hearing your quiet hums of happiness with each sip. It was great fodder for his late-night thoughts.

His heart warmed, as the skin around your eyes crowed the way he loved. Loved? He cleared his throat.

“You aren’t booking yourself as many fights. Which I would be happy about if I thought it didn’t directly correlate to why you’re acting so strange,” you lectured, and to him, you sounded like a particular short blue-haired Melusine.

“I can’t help but feel that you are worried about me,” he jested.

“As anyone would be about a friend,” you said.

Friend? Yes, that was what you were. Friends.

“Friends. Yes,” he agreed albeit stiffly.

You gave him a cautious side-eye unsure as to why his tone hurt you.

The word left a bitter taste in Wriothesley’s mouth and when you offered to fill his cup again, he accepted. Suddenly needing the soothing numbing effects of his tea more than ever. You topped up his cup before you poured the heated water into the teacup that had unintentionally become yours.

Wriothesley didn’t let anyone else use it. It was superstitious really, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious person. However, he worried that if he let anyone else use it you suddenly won’t come back one day. Not that you would be able to tell the difference if he did let someone else use the cup; all the teacups he owned looked exactly alike, but yours was different. It was a cup with a little chip on the rim near the handle from when you decided to have your tea with Neuvillette, Clorinde, the traveler and himself after the recent troubles with the Fatui. Your cup had chipped due to the heat of your hand; he could recall the horror on your face when he informed you how much each cup cost after letting you ramble on about owing him another cup.

You eventually fell into a comfortable silence sitting together on the settee.

“Clorinde has been visiting you a lot recently,” you said from behind your teacup. You took another sip.

Wriothesley recalled his earlier meeting with the champion dualist.

“Yes, we had some tea.”

“Really?”

“Jealous?”

You turned away.

“There is no need to be, I assure you,” he said, feeling a deep sense of relief at the way you seemed so bothered by his meeting with your mutual friend. The same friend who had been lecturing him about his ‘mutual’ feelings for you. Perhaps it was because of your reaction, that he realised that Clorinde might have been right. Or he was delusional? Maybe it was both.

Wriothesley placed his mug down on the coffee table. His hand brushed your bare thigh and you both jolt.

“Who says I am jealous?” You snapped, your lip twitching.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because your lip twitches when you’re upset, and your pyro vision makes you heat the things around you without abandon. Your eyes lose that spark which makes them look like the spotlights guarding Meropide, and you refuse to look at me because you know I’ll see right through you. And I do. I see you.”

He took another sip from his tea, pretending to not notice your tea bubbling in your hand, and the crack growing on the side of the teacup.

“It’s not nice to make jokes like that, Your Grace,” you said nervously.

Your eyes darted about the office settling on anything but him. The bookshelves looked fuller than usual. Has he been reading more books?

“Indeed. It is not but come on you should know me better than that by now. I never joke about things like this,” he said. His voice was clear and sincere. “Is it so strange that I would want to give a few words of praise out of genuine adoration?”

Especially since he saw the way you’re reacting; he knew that it was real and not a fantasy from his misguided thoughts. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity to make his feelings clear. He was a straightforward guy, after all. When he knew what he wanted was within his reach he wouldn’t simply pass it up. It would be unjust. He wanted to watch you smile, to be the one that caused that smile; he wanted to be the first person you went to when something good happened in your life; he wanted to feel your skin and not just in passing touches; he wanted to let it scold him, to embrace the flames.

“Ah, it seems I have ruined the mood,” he said smoothly.

He stood.

You went to stand too, but when you did the boiling liquid in your teacup splashed your hand. You hissed and dropped it. The porcelain shattered against the metal ground; the liquid spilt everywhere.

Wriothesley sat back down on the settee and took your warm hand in his immediately not sparing a second to glance down at his soaked boots. They encased yours and worked to chill the burn; one of the many benefits of having a cryo vision. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Fire and ice co-exist? Impossible. Unimaginable. Dangerous. The tenderness in which he held your hand sets your heart ablaze as if it wasn’t already. Had he been telling the truth? You knew the Duke better than most, and with that knowledge you know he wasn’t the type to lie about that, but did he mean it? Could he mean it?

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Wriothesley’s attention remained on the forming boil on your soft skin. He soothed it gently, trying not to give you frost-burn. Thankfully the natural heat of your skin stopped his cryo from hurting you further.

“For what?” he responded softly, bringing your hand up to his lips and breathing out cool frosty air. You felt like mush, and if it weren’t for the dull ache in your hand you would have snatched up the opportunity to run said hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. It always looked so soft and maybe he would allow you to touch it.

You pulled a face between flustered and self-loathing.

“That was one of your expensive teacups,” you managed to choke out.

He continued to blow cool air onto your hand.

“There will be other teacups,” he says, his lips barely an inch from your skin.

You wanted to melt on the spot.

“But—“

He sighed and said your name sternly looking up at you through the haze of dark lashes.

“Why would I worry about a teacup when you are hurt?” he asked and lowered your hand from his lips. “In any case, I should apologise for ruining a perfectly good meeting. If you have said all you need to say then—”

You waved your hands, flabbergasting him as you snatched them from his cool encasing, momentarily forgetting about the burn, and cutting him off mid-speech.

“No, you didn’t,” you yelped.

He half smiled at the scarlet tint of your ears, and taking your burnt hand back into his, he proceeded to gently apply cryo to the festering burn.

“Ah, is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright then, how will you pay me back?”

“Huh?”

“You broke my favourite teacup, after all. So—“ he said your name with a hint of mischief in his smooth voice. “How will you pay me back?”

“That’s not fair!” You straightened in your seat. “How can that be your favourite teacup when they all look the same? Are you just saying that to make me feel worse than I already do?”

He cocked a brow and tugged you forward. You fell into him, your free hand coming to rest on his lower abdominal. Your nose brushed his, and you felt his cool breath against your cheeks. His breathe smelt of spearmint. Your lips twitched and you tried to focus on the scar under his eye (the one you’ve always wanted to trace with the tips of your fingers) so as to not meet his icy blue stare, or to glance down at the obvious smirk on his lips. You wanted to kiss him; you could kiss him; would he let you kiss him?

Wriothesley watched your tongue dart out to swipe across your lips; he wanted to bite it; but he had more control than that. He had an image to uphold. The Duke was supposed to be fair and reasonable; he was supposed to lead by example and be a neutral figure of respect and reverence, not a brute without self-control. He pushed you back gently, hoping beyond hope that in your shock you haven’t noticed how hard he was.

“Kidding, of course,” he drawled.

Anger coloured your face and you punched his shoulder, half seriously. You hissed and shake your still very much wounded hand. You had been duelling partners for a while when you had spent a significant amount of time in the Fortress pretending to be a convict back when you were neither friend nor whatever you were now. He’d only agreed to it at the time because you managed to beat everyone and nearly him.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come on let’s get you to Sigewinne.”

He stood and offered you his hand.

Your heart stuttered. Even though you weren’t native to Fontaine you were well-versed in their mother language, but even then, you didn’t believe your ears.

“What?” you asked.

He chuckled again, a deep and hearty sound.

“When will I stop doubting the ears of a seasoned traveler,” he said out loud although it was meant for his ears alone. He must have been mentioning your mutual friend, the blond traveler, and their small pixie pie companion, Paimon. You have been accompanying them on a few commissions and quests here and there, especially through Natlan. Which kept you away from Fontaine for significant periods of time, much to Wriothesley’s silent dismay.

However, he would never keep something so precious away from the light. He tried to keep a pet once—not that you were a pet—but he soon realised that it was wrong to keep something meant to be in the sun away from it. And if he couldn’t do it to a small animal then he definitely couldn’t do that to you. You were a traveller, not even native to Fontaine. Although you have made it clear countless amounts of times that Fontaine is your favourite region; he can’t help but feel like you weren’t meant to be chained to one place. He won’t be your administrator, the fortress won’t be your prison, and he couldn’t imagine keeping you in this cage with him. He refused to, even if his more selfish desires would have you cuffed to his desk where he could gaze upon you forever till you hated him and wished him gone.

“No, I want to talk first,” you said.

“I assure you we can talk after your hand has been seen too.”

“Wriothesley.”

Your tone went straight to his cock. You have never said his name, at least not his face. Even when you’re both around your mutual ‘friends’ you still have only ever called him ‘your grace.’ He wanted to hear you say his name again. He wanted to hear you say his name breathlessly, desperately, whilst you crumbled into each other. He cleared his throat and walked across his office hoping that the distance would stop you from noticing the obvious tent in trousers. He fiddled with the cuffs on his hips to distract himself and pulled at his tie.

“You really should go…to Sigewinne,” he said.

You approached him. He turned away from you facing a bookshelf. You brushed your fingertips to his forearm feeling the chilling aura around his skin. You expected him to pull away, for him to stop you from going past the point of no return, but he didn’t.

“Wriothesley,” you said his name again, this time with a wistful air. You don’t even realise you’re saying it. You never said it; not to him, only to the crisp cold darkness when your back arched on your sheets late into the night.

“Say it again,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

Your eyes widened as you realised your mistake. You have always tried not to say his name to separate your lustful fantasies from the real man.

He faced you, capturing your gaze and with it your heart too in his glacial eyes that looked so warm. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but obey. His name slipped out in a hushed prayer: “Wriothesley.”

In turn, he said yours; just as quiet, just as wanting.

“You really should go to Sigewinne,” he said and ghosts his thumb along your jaw.

“What if I don’t want to?” you stepped closer. “What if I want to stay right here?”

His expression darkened.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with no bite behind it.

You didn’t budge.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, sounding way more desperate than you intended. Before you could cringe at yourself, he had you caged in his arms, mouth cold against yours. He groaned when you bit down on this bottom lip, and for the first time, you felt his thick erection brush against your stomach.

None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of kissing Wriothesley and any pain in your hand disappeared altogether. He kissed you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth; like you were his last gulp of air before he dissolved into primordial water.

He tugged on your shirt.

“If you don’t take this thing off right now I’m going to rip it,” he said, his breath laboured.

You reached under your shirt, and he helped you slip it over your head. He threw it away and pulled you into another kiss. His hand wrapped in your hair.

You took off his tie and his waistcoat, his usual fur coat was already draped on the back of his large red chair. He stopped you unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head, trailing kisses along your jaw, and down your neck as he walked you backwards to his desk. He unclasped your bra. He watched it slide down your arms and then tossed it somewhere that was going to be your future you’s problem.

“Up,” he ordered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grasped the underside of your thighs and placed you down on the free space of his grand desk.

He bit your shoulder, and you moaned out his name in a way that had him almost feral. He lapped at the wound and kissed it. You threw your head back biting down on your lip. He continued leaving kisses and nibbles along your collarbone, slowly lowering until your breasts were under his hungry gaze. You suddenly felt nervous. You wouldn’t say you were insecure in your looks. You knew that your looks were something to behold and of which you were very proud. They’ve come in handy in your many jobs as many times as they have caused unnecessary issues but being under the watchful gaze of Wriothesley felt different… intimate. You tried to bring your hands up to cover yourself. Wriothesley caught your wrists, looking up at you from his crouched position.

“Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

“Wriothesley,” you said.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we can stop,” he assured you, although the words pained him and his dick, consent was king—always. If you weren’t comfortable, he could always sort himself out later. You were the most important thing to him. He let go of your wrists and you dropped them, letting him feast his eyes on your breasts.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop,” he said. “Give me a safe word.”

“Cake,” you instantly responded.

“Cake?” He cocked a brow. “Cake, it is.”

Without a moment spared, he grasped your breasts and planted a kiss there, dragging his lips over your nipples in a way that made you shiver. He smiled to himself at the occasional whimpers that left you; even more pleased that he was the one causing them.

“I love the noises you make. I love your voice. I’m obsessed with it. I wish to capture it and listen to it whenever you’re away,” he groaned.

He dragged his tongue down, further, and further until he was on his knees, he pushed up your skirt that had been bothering him since you crossed your gorgeous legs earlier. He was tempted to have you keep it on when he fucked you, for no other reason than the thought that the next time you decided to wear that poor excuse of a skirt he knew all you would be able to think about was how he messed you up in it. The thought brought him immense pleasure.

He slid his hands into your shorts, squeezing your thighs. The flimsy piece of black material and whatever surprise underwear beneath it were the only things keeping him from what he wanted. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel how you’ll curl on his tongue; he wanted to feel you gripping his hair and screaming his name as he brought you to a high only he could give you.

“These damn shorts,” he grumbled.

“I climb mountains. How else am I going to keep myself comfortable?” you asked.

He tutted and tore them open; the fabric did not put up much of a fight at all.

“I guess you won’t be climbing mountains anytime soon,” he said guiding the torn fabric down your legs.

“Those were my favourites, you brute.”

He winked up at you.

“Ah, I suppose that makes us even,” he drawled.

Was he thinking about that damn teacup right now?

“How are you?” He said, checking in on you.

“Good.”

He smiled and your heart melted a little.

He froze when he took in the sight of your lingerie.

“Were you thinking of me when you bought these?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you said.

“Too late.”

You bit your lip. It hadn’t been intentional, your underwear matching the colour of his eyes. He trailed his nose up the soaked fabric brushing your clit. You grabbed his hair at the stimulation. You felt the beginnings of the scruff threatening to break out of his chin tickling you as he guided your lingerie aside and gave your clit an ardent lick. Wriothesley wasn’t big on savoury treats, but you weren’t savoury, you tasted like you, and you were fast becoming his favourite dessert.

“You taste divine,” he said.

“Oh Archons,” you muttered.

“They won’t hear you down here,” he said.

It didn’t take long before your toes were curling, and you were chanting his name. Wriothesley gripped your thigh with one hand and fingered you with the other, stretching you out in preparation for him; because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were going to cum around him. He was going to feel the way you would clench around him; he was going to watch your blissed-out face twist as he fucked you hard into his desk. Although he would love to feel you climax on his face there would be time for that. He’d be damned if this was the first and only time he had you. You were his. Morals and reputation be damned, he wanted—no, needed to be inside you. He didn’t care if the entirety of Meropide could hear you; in fact, he got off on the thought.

Just when you felt like you were about to climax, he pulled away and licked his lips. You glared at him as he stood and bent over you kissing you softer than before. You could taste yourself on his lips, and instead of it turning you off it spurred you on. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, grinding against his clothed erection.

“Do you trust me?” he asked between heated kisses.

Everything felt wet like you both were melting, and you probably were. If so, you didn’t care, becoming water wasn’t half bad if it was with him. You heard his cuffs before you saw them spinning around the two fingers that had been inside you.

“Right now, no,” you lied.

He half smiled.

“I suppose I deserve that. I guess I’ll just have to persuade you then.”

You untangled from around him. He stepped back unbuttoning his shirt and revealing lean scar-littered skin. You wanted to reach out and so you did, tracing the long jagged discoloured scars, slightly keloid. Some looked fresher than others. He shivered and breathed out a low groan when you grazed over his nipple. He raised his signature cuffs.

“Give me your wrists,” he said.

It clinked when it secured around both wrists. The spiked metal looked so beautiful against your skin; he was almost tempted to throw away the key.

“Oh no, you’ve caught me, your grace,” you teased. Something you shouldn’t have done because the way he looked at you after told you that you had triggered something in him.

“You did break my favourite teacup after all,” he said.

“I thought we were even.”

You watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and step between your legs. There would be time for savouring the moment later, many moments if he could help it but not then. You felt his erection only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers press against your vagina, he leans over you caging you between his arms and the desk.

“Indeed, we are for breaking.” He nibbled on your ear, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. That was an expensive cup you know some flimsy shorts won’t cover the costs. You should know I only play fair, and you got some of the tea on my freshly shined boots.”

Your cuffed hands resting on your stomach fiddled with the lining of his boxers. You lost your breath when he nuzzled into the base of your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he grunted.

You manage to slip his cock out.

“Says the man who denied me my orgasm.”

You felt his smile on your neck.

He rubbed his cock along your folds but didn’t push in. He wanted to be sure that you’re sure.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he said as he continued to edge your hole.

“Just fuck me already,” you sassed.

He thrust into you, filling you completely. He was thicker than you expected, thicker than you had had before. You couldn’t be more thankful for the earlier foreplay because without it he wouldn’t have fit. He remained still for a while, and you slowly adjusted to his size. The dull ache of the intrusion quickly turned from discomfort to bliss.

“Wriothesley.”

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed. “Don’t stop saying my name.”

You didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said.

The desk jutted, the papers shook, and books slid off the desk smacking the floor in their wake, but the sound was lost to you both. Despite his strong persona, and much to your delight, he didn’t hold back his occasional whimpers, and grunts. The sound blessed your ears like a symphony. Sometime after your first orgasm, he took off the cuffs and threw them to his settee.

He left the occasional bites and kisses on the underside of your jaw, and down to your breasts. You, in turn, added to the long scars down his back, your nails clawing into the flesh. He would treasure those when they scarred.

You guided his face up from your neck, where he had been breathing you in as if he couldn’t get enough of you into his system. In truth, he couldn’t. You kissed him deeply, filling it with all the words you hadn’t yet been able to say. You felt your third climax on the horizon as he hit the same spot that made your back arch.

“Wriothesley,” you said against his mouth. “There.”

He chased your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, rolling his hips. He slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and rubbed your swollen clit. You let out a needy moan.

“I’ve got you,” he said as you clenched around him.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of primordial water. He held you to him, as he continued to thrust towards his own high, encasing you in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groaned.

Wriothesley felt like he was on cloud nine. Being with you was entirely different from what he imagined in the best way possible. It felt like a dream having you here, in his arms, pliant to his every desire. In each kiss, he pretended that you felt the same way; that you wanted the same things. He pretended that this moment wasn’t just a moment but forever—because he wanted you forever.

He slowed down prolonging the experience and straightened up looking down at the fucked-out expression on your face. He knew he didn’t look any better. Swiping a hand through his hair, he continued to roll his hip slowly. He placed a hand on your pelvis steadying you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat which glistened under the light of the office. He felt like he was melting into you—like you were melting into each other.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered opening your arms for him, beckoning him home. And truly, to him, you felt like home.

He pushed his damp hair back once again, before leaning over you. With a final grunt and a spam of your walls around him, he came. He didn’t pull out right away, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

Your thighs were sticky from your combined releases, and your body felt like it had been sitting in a sauna for hours but seeing the rare, satisfied look on his face made it all worth it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“You owe me new shorts,” you said.

“I’ll buy you as many shorts as your heart desires,” he uttered, tiredly.

“Really?”

He hummed and nodded slowly.

“Good because I think I’m going to need a lot of them if you’re going to rip them off every time,” you said causing him to perk up. “You know to repay for the teacup.”

“Oh?”

“Unless this was a one-time thing then—“you hesitated.

He kissed you again, unable to hide his smile.

“Next time let’s use my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

He tried to intertwine your hands, but you winced when he brushed against the forming boil.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and to Sigewinne, for real this time.”

“First, can we have a cup of tea?” you asked.

He laughed. Of course, you wanted to have tea. He could do with some tea too; he was famished after all. He laid a kiss on your forehead and made a mental note to send Clorinde an extra box of his finest tea.

“Of course, first let's clean up and then we'll have tea. I promise, but don’t spill it this time.”

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

#wriothesley imagines #Genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #wriothesley #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley x you #genshin drabbles #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley thirst #genshin smut #i am unhealthily obsessed with this man

501 notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Note

Hi hi! I saw your requests are open and I really love your writing. There's a scene I saw on yt from bg3 where Raphael just magics Astarion's clothes off and I was wondering if you could write something where Tav covers him up or snaps at Raphael over the invasion of his privacy. Here's the clip btw

https://youtube.com/shorts/RJyurXglAHM?si=YNBC5POkV0j2Zns4

OH MY GOD I saw this prompt and literally could not stop writing until I was finished

Warnings: non-consensual undressing (by Raphael), slight arguing, swearing, trauma

Word Count: 1,139

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Now, let’s talk about you.” Raphael turns his burning attention to Astarion. “I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”

“I do. I have a… proposal for you.”

“A proposal? If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”

You can feel Astarion’s whole body tense beside you with agitation. “This is serious business… devil.” The anger fades into discomfort. “My old - well, a long time ago, someone carved some runes into my back. I’d like to know what they say.”

Raphael hums as he contemplates the deal before him. You turn to your companion, confused. “What are you talking about, Astarion? What scars?” It’s not as upset as the spawn expects it to be. Truly, he was fully prepared for you to round on him for hiding something from you for so long.

He never got the chance to be… intimate with you. He tried, of course, he was uncomfortably desperate for the safety it would bring him. But, somehow, you saw past him. Through him. You saw the seduction for the act it was. And, somehow, you stayed with him anyway. He just, well, forgot to tell you about them. He told you of Cazador, of course. Just, not what he did to him.

Raphael was all too pleased with your confusion, smirking. “You haven’t told them? And you’ve kept your clothes on this whole time? How unlike you.” You stare sharply at the devil. He was enjoying teasing Astarion too much. But then it really went too far. With a lilting, “Why not let them see? Don’t be shy,” he snaps his fingers and Astarion’s clothes disappear in an orange glow.

You don’t even think as you immediately unclasp your cloak and wrap it around his shoulders. He’s more surprised you covered him up than Raphael un-covering him. You act as a barrier between the two, holding Astarion’s shoulders to keep the cloak covering him and glaring venomously over your shoulder at the devil.

Before you can spit vitriol at him, he’s trying to soothe the tension. “Don’t worry - I’m motivated to help you.” His teeth show as he smirks wider. “Scars often tell such wonderful stories - I think yours might be truly exquisite. I’ll see you soon.”

And just like that, in a puff of flame and smoke, he’s gone. You turn back to Astarion.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes widen, shocked. “I’ve been keeping a secret as wide as my back - literally - from you all this time, and you’re worried about me? Aren’t you, I don’t know, angry? Betrayed? Ready to kick me out of our little group?”

You frown. “No, of course not.”

He can’t wrap his head around it. Your face says you're upset, but your eyes shine with sympathy and worry. You mean it. Why?

“But I lied to you!”

“You didn’t tell me - it’s different.”

He scoffs bitterly. “A lie of omission is still a lie, darling.”

“Did you do it out of malicious intent?”

His face scrunches up. “Why should that matter?”

“Well, did you?”

“No! Not on purpose, anyway. There may have been some… selfishness.”

“Then you were doing it to protect yourself?”

“What are you-”

“I’m not angry, Astarion.” His mouth lingers open, but the words die in his throat. You squeeze his shoulders. “You kept a secret to protect yourself, not to trick me. You had your reasons for not telling me, and that’s okay. I’m not angry.”

He’s quiet. Shadowheart and Gale had backed away some time ago, giving you as much privacy as they could while you fought. Not that it was much of a fight. You’re grateful for it, nonetheless. Astarion has a hard time being genuine when it’s just you two; he almost never lets his guard down around anyone else.

He sighs. It’s shaky and quiet, but you can feel the shudder in his shoulders. He looks down at himself. He’s in nothing but his underwear and your cloak. His stomach is still largely exposed, and he grabs the edges of the fabric to close it the rest of the way. It feels… safe. He’s terrified, of course - he’s in his skivvies out in the open. But the way you immediately covered him up. He’d never dreamed of anything like it.

“I’ll find you some clothes. I should have something tucked away.”

You’re slow to release him. You pull the cloak to wrap more evenly around him, and then you’re kneeling on the floor, rifling through your stuff. Your face is set in determination. Your eyes are keenly focused on your search. A warmth fills his chest.

When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

You don’t turn from your task, but he can see your soft smile. It eases him even more. Soon enough, you’ve pulled out a loose shirt, some pants, and a spare pair of boots. He has no idea how or why you carry spare clothes around, but he really shouldn’t be questioning it when they’re suddenly the most important thing in the world.

“Here. They may be a bit big, but they’ll do until I can threaten Raphael to give your armor back.” He chuckles and takes the clothes you offer him. “I’ll go talk to the others and start working out a plan.”

“Wait.” He grabs your wrist before you can even start to turn away. He opens his mouth like he wants to speak. Thank you again, apologize for creating this mess, something. But he can’t find the words. You wait, ever patient. And, gods damn it all, your expression is so open and kind - he can’t help cupping your face in his hands and drawing you in for a kiss.

It’s soft at the same time it’s passionate. A quiet thank you for everything. For your kindness, your patience, your protection. You don’t know where to put your hands. You touch his shoulder hesitantly, wanting to pull him close but not wishing to touch him where he’d be uncomfortable. It makes his undead heart ache even more.

His hands leave your face to slide down your arms, guiding your hands underneath the cloak and around his back. Even with his guidance, you’re reluctant to touch him, but then your hands, warm and gentle, glide across the raised skin. You press into him, kissing him harder as thanks for his trust.

When you pull away, you press your forehead to his, breaths fanning over his face as you catch your breath. He leaves one last kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you.”

You smile. He watches fascinated as your eyes become filled to the brim with fondness. You squeeze his waist and slide your arms from under the cloak, stepping back carefully. “Get dressed,” you say. “I’ll be just around the corner.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis

@hypopxia

@flsalazar

@beverlybeav

@angelofthorr

@emiemiemiii

@marina-and-the-memes

@lynnlovesloki

#request #requested #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

850 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

I Don’t Care // Mafia!Stuck x fem!reader

Summary: Request on AO3: 'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, fluff/comfort, period sex, mentions of blood, description of cramps, daddy kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, intense, cockwarming, overprotective, possessive behaviour, size different, praise kink

Words: 5.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Mother nature had decided to curse your life today. Every 28 days without fail, your period would be an inconvenience but never to this extent, praying to whatever god was listening to save you from the excruciating waves of pain ripping through your uterus. Not only this, but it was affecting your entire body, feeling drained with fatigue, nauseous and a migraine slowly creeping through your temple.

You were mentally officially done with the day, and thankfully the anticipated meeting with Johann Schmidt was finished and successfully had gone according to plan, which meant no murders and happy handshakes to new beginnings. There were a few relaxed moments after waving them off and you were rushing to the toilet, needing to just sit and mentally process how you were going to survive the rest of the day.

Even though everyone was preparing to leave, there was still food shopping that needed to be completed which was a chore in of itself. Having to buy food for two grown men that ate triple the amount of any normal person was energy draining but now only this, in the evening, to celebrate the new partnership, Steve was taking the two groups to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Groaning, you doubled over in pain as you sat on the toilet, wishing to stay here instead or maybe, cuddled up on the sofa with Bucky and Steve but no, life wasn’t this simple, you’d need to suck it up and get on with the day and hoped it passed by quickly and at least the meeting was over.

Deciding to face the music, you finished using the bathroom, splashing some cool water on your face before exiting, only to come face to face with Bucky who was leaning against the wall, staring at the watch on his wrist.

“Good timing mama, another 30 seconds and I would have been coming in there. Didn’t think it was appropriate to be rushing into the female toilets but you’ve been a while”. Smiling softly at him, you walked over, watching as he extended his arms to pull your body against his chest.

“Overprotective Oaf, can’t a girl go to the toilet anymore without being timed”, you sarcastically mumbled into his shirt, taking a deep breath of his expensive cologne, and leaning into his unnaturally warm body.

“Wow oaf is a new one, thanks Doll”, he retorted but could feel his smile as he rested his mouth against the top of your head, his arms circling your shoulders. “I don’t usually time you in the toilet either, just worried was all, no offence but you’re looking a little peaky today”.

You could have stayed in that one spot all day, his gigantic body just completely dwarfing yours, like a boyfriend cocoon. This was until another cramp ripped through your abdomen, causing you to tense and scrunch your face to stop from audibly shouting. Bucky felt the change, his arms squeezing you tighter before easing himself back so he was able to cup your face, thumb stroking against your cheek.

“That bad, huh?”

“A little yeah. It’s fine, I’m due some pain relief now anyway, I’ll be ok”, it was a lie of course but you didn’t want to worry him or Steve, if it wasn’t obvious, they could be a little dramatic when it came to your welfare. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it was only food shopping and a meal then tomorrow, you could all stay in bed if that was what you wanted.

“You’re a bad liar”, he remarked, tilting your face up, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that had you momentarily forgetting about the pain, until a burning hot pain sparked through your head. It almost took your breath away more than the kiss, so much so you had to pull back and take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you could do this.

“Come on Buckaroo, let’s get going”. Bucky didn’t say another word but kept his cool metal hand around yours, leading back to the car where Steve was waiting in the back. Bucky held the door open for you and then climbed into the passenger seat, next to Sam who was driving.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked you softly as you fastened your seat belt, his hand resting against your thigh which was only an invitation for you to cuddle into his muscular arm, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah”, you responded softly, trying to keep your composure and not flinch as dizziness rocked your body as the car began to drive.

Bucky shifted in his seat before turning, offering you a bottle of water and some pain relief. Offering your thanks, you swallowed the pills with half of the bottle of water, hoping it would also settle the nauseous sensation in your stomach. Leaning back into Steve’s arm, he turned to kiss your temple.

“Where to Boss?” Sam asked Steve.

“Home please, Wilson”.

“Wait no, Sam could you please take us to the store, we still need to go shopping, remember?”

Your eyes flicked between Steve and Sam as the latter looked back at Steve in the rear-view mirror, waiting for confirmation. “Baby, let’s just go home, you need to get some rest”.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to play it off, “I’m fine, and we need to go today we have absolutely nothing in the cupboard, it won’t take us long”. The last part of your sentence was more a hope for you and even though you’d love nothing more than to go home if you didn’t go food shopping today then you’d be forced to go tomorrow and there was no way you were leaving the house tomorrow.

Steve didn’t say anything, only nodded at Sam for him to continue to the shop, the hand against your thigh squeezed but you weren’t paying attention, closing your eyes to stop the nauseous sensation.

It didn’t take long to get to the store and once inside, you gave Bucky the duty of drink refills and Steve fresh fruit and vegetables whilst you’d go to the tin aisle and load up the shopping cart there.

Whilst walking up the second aisle, one of the worst cramps you’d ever experienced destroyed your insides. You could feel the contraction of your uterus, the pain so much that you had to double over and lean against the shelves, biting your lower lip to refrain from moaning in pain, aware that there were still other people shopping and didn’t want too many odd looks.

Trying to concentrate on your breathing, you’d squeezed your eyes so tight that now you were beginning to feel even dizzier, it was an endless cycle of pain.

A warm hand was suddenly easing under your head and shoulder, helping to turn your body until it was leaning into the much bigger and more comforting body of Bucky. You could smell his aftershave before he was even touching you. “Shh that’s it, lean into my body, I’ve got you. Keep taking those deep breaths, the pain will fade”. His words were softly whispered into your ear as he held his metal hand against the back of your head and the other massaged your lower back.

Even though you were hoping to keep up the strong exterior and play off that your period cramps were not as bad as they were, you could not deny the way Bucky and Steve treated you had the butterflies flying in your stomach.

Bucky was right, the pain did begin to fade to a dull ache that left you feeling uncomfortable but able to stand back up and resume shopping. “Sor-” you began but your boyfriend was quick to cut off your words.

“Don’t apologise, never apologise to me”, his sincerity was pulling at your heartstrings, and unsure why tears were suddenly springing to your eyes so you quickly looked to the floor to hide them.

“I hate being on my period, messing with my emotions, do you have to be so nice?” you tried to joke, causing Bucky to chuckle softly and kiss your temple once more, always so affectionate.

Another hand joined your spine, rubbing up and down as Steve stepped behind you, his breath fanning across your cheek as he gave you a quick peck before his spare hand lifted to capture the tears that were dripping down your cheeks.

“Go back to the car baby girl, we’ll finish this” Steve encouraged, keeping his voice low. With your position between the two mafia members, you’d momentarily forgotten that you were in the middle of a store, and not in a little private bubble but with the size of their bodies, you basically were.

Hastily wiping away the remaining tears, you tried to regain some energy, “no it’s ok, I can carry on and neither of you knows what we need to buy anyway”.

Steve smirked down at you, “I’m sure we can manage and if we forget anything major, we’ll just send Sam to come and get it for us”.

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! Now please go back to the car”, Bucky gave you a little nudge in the direction of the exit. You laughed at them both, they always managed to make you smile, even if it was for a brief second.

“Everything ok, boss lady?” Sam asked nicely as you climbed into the car as he sat waiting in it.

You were exhausted, lying across the back of the seats, automatically pulling your knees up to your chest like a ball, finding the position that helped most with the cramps, facing the back seat so Sam couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, just need a little break”.

It seemed your ordeal wasn’t over just yet as the next wave of cramps continued, and now in the comfort of the car, even with Sam, you couldn’t hold back gasps of agony.

Unaware of how much time had passed but soon the car was being filled with shopping bags and Steve was helping you to sit up, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again. “Let’s get you home”, he nodded to Sam as you fell back into the same position as before, but instead of resting his hand on your thigh, he lifted your top, unbuttoning your jeans to give him access to your abdomen.

Steve and Bucky, as well as being able to eat the same amount as a small village, ran at unnatural temperatures so as his warm fingers began to massage to pained area, you couldn't help but release a relieved groan.

As you returned home, you felt completely drained, limping to the toilet to try and feel refreshed as the boys emptied the car of the groceries which you were thankful for, even going as far as to empty the bags.

It was Steve’s turn to stand guard outside the toilet but unlike Bucky, he didn’t wait for you to be in there for a specific amount of time before knocking. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you want to see this right now”, you shouted softly to him, cleaning yourself up quickly before flushing the toilet. After washing your hands and splashing some more cool water onto your face, you exited the toilet to find him smiling kindly down at you, waiting patiently.

“You know I don’t care about those kinds of things”, he reminded you, holding out a hand for you to hold.

You accepted it, loving the feeling of his rough large fingers compared to yours as he slowly pulled you in the direction of the couch in the living room. “Yes I know that but it’s particularly bad today” you referred to your heavy flow. Neither Steve nor Bucky was at all phased by your period, reminding you on countless occasions that they are surrounded by blood a lot for their job and this was different, it was you, it was natural and all they wanted to do was help you.

“Again, I don’t care, honey”, he gently eased the two of you down, making sure that your legs were thrown over his two muscular thighs, head on his shoulder so that he could rest his cheek against you, his facial hair tickling your forehead slightly. Not that you cared as his arms encircled you, one supporting around your back, keeping your body against his, and the other rested on your abdomen again, continuing with the massaging.

Groaning with relief, your face nuzzled into him closer, hand gripping his crisp white shirt, creasing it slightly but neither of you cared. “That feels so good”, you praised him.

“Close your eyes, get some rest”.

This was exactly what you then proceeded to do. Only taking a matter of seconds of being in his heated embrace to fall into a deep sleep. A few hours later you naturally awoke, finding Steve with his eyes closed, for a second you’d suspected he had also fallen asleep but his fingers were still massaging away at your abdomen, even after all this time, surprised that he hadn’t got a hand cramp yet.

Kissing his chin to show that you were awake, your fingers gripped around the arm supporting your body, lifting to look at the time on his watch, seeing that it was nearly the evening.

Pushing on his arm, you attempted to stand but were stopped by his grip tightening, keeping you in his lap. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get changed, we’re leaving soon”, your voice cracked from having just woken up, fingers brushing your eyes to wipe some of the tiredness away.

“That’s not happening anymore”, he casually remarked, undoing his top button.

“What do you mean it’s not happening? It needs to happen, Johann made it very clear earlier that this needed to happen.”

Steve casually shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll deal with it, now relax, I was comfortable”.

You were dumbfounded by his confidence, your anxiety couldn’t cope when he was like this, it was much easier to just go for this meal than to try and sweet talk Johann around again. Trying and failing again to stand, you released a heavy sigh. “Steve please, I’ll be fine, it won’t take us long”.

It was at this time that Bucky returned, a towel around his neck and nothing on but his sneakers and a pair of training shorts, having come from the gym in the basement. You couldn’t help but look over his toned abs, littered with contrasting scars from his time in the Rogers mafia. “How are you feeling now?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“Better thank you. Can you tell him that we need to start getting ready soon? He’s come up with the disastrous plan to cancel dinner with Johann”.

Bucky sat back casually, the muscles in his abs flexing slightly, once again drawing your attention before you looked back into his smug blue eyes. “Firstly, I can’t tell the boss to do anything and you know that and secondly, I’ve already sent the message to cancel, so no changing it now”.

You moved around on Steve’s lap so that you could properly face the blonde who was watching you with casual arrogance knowing he had got his way or no way at all. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why I did that”, his voice remained calm as his eyes searched your face so you sat further back onto his knees and that’s when you felt it, something hadn’t felt right since waking up and this was it.

Glancing down, you noticed a dark patch on his navy dress trousers from where you’d been sitting. In your rush to leave the bathroom, you must have placed the pad in at the wrong angle on your underwear, and now you’d leaked onto your boyfriend's lap. Steve looked down, his face remaining the same, calm and confident.

“It’s ok”, his hands lifted to stroke your upper arms but you brushed them off. Your entire body seemed to heat up as the embarrassment set in.

“I’m..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s fine”, his casualness about the situation didn’t help your panic as you pushed off of his chest to stand, knees wobbling slightly as the inkling of another wave of cramps threatened to start from the sudden movement.

“Be careful mama, it’s ok-”, Bucky tried to reach for you now but you were so embarrassed, needing to get away from both of them for a minute, racing up the stairs as your heart pounding in your chest. Finally getting to the master bedroom, you were able to lock yourself in the ensuite toilet, taking off your now blood-stained jeans and underwear, cursing again at mother nature for letting her add to the list of bad things that had happened that day.

Now you were in the bathroom, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You didn’t have a change of clothes and you couldn’t go back out there because, by the sounds of it, both men had followed you up the stairs and probably getting changed. Your cheeks burst with heat at the thought of Steve’s ruined trousers.

Maybe you could take a bath or a shower, which sometimes helped with the pain but you weren’t able to decide as your uterus contracted with another cramp and it was probably the worst one yet. A deep groan slipped from your lips as you doubled over, leaning your forehead against the countertop, knees straining to keep you from collapsing to the floor and crawling into a ball.

The door handle turned as you made the pained noise, but seeing as you had locked the door, it didn’t open and therefore was swiftly followed by a knock. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking it down.”

Rolling your eyes at the possessive tone in Steve’s voice, you hobbled over to the bathroom door, clicked the lock and walked back to face your shame, standing in nothing but your shirt and bra.

What you hadn’t anticipated was Steve walking over the threshold and within one step was cupping your jaw, tilting your head back and kissing you fiercely enough that it took your breath away. It took a moment of shock to wear off before your hands gripped onto his wrists, holding him close, kissing him back with as much passion. Even trying to reach onto your tip toes to get closer.

Steve was quick to discard your shirt and bra, so fast you hadn’t even realised he was undoing the buttons until the cool air coated your skin. Pulling back from the kiss as his tongue teased, you pushed against his chest, “Steve wait-”

The mafia boss did not wait. No, he had his own idea in mind as his mouth was back onto yours, body pushing back until your lower back found the cool countertop behind. In another second, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you until your bare arse was sitting on the side.

This truly snapped you out of the lust-filled trance he had captured you within. Pushing once more against his chest, your face dropped down so he couldn’t distract you with his devilish tongue. “Steve stop, I’m not wearing any underwear, I need to put a pad on or something.”

It wasn’t Steve who responded but Bucky who was watching at the door, now in a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt, casually leaning against the door frame. He was chuckling as he admired your body. “When are you going to get it Doll, we really and I mean, REALLY, don’t care about that stuff”.

Steve moved his seduction tour to your neck, leaving open-mouth kisses sending shivers through your spine as he inched his way up to the shell of your ear. “What am I going to have to do to make you understand that I don’t care about a little bit of blood, my love”.

You glanced down at the patch on his trousers, biting your lip before reminding him, “but I’ve ruined your trousers, and you’ve had to cancel the dinner because of me”.

Steve finally leaned back, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your thighs as his own blue eyes flicked between yours. “I’ve cancelled the dinner today because you’re in pain and I’m not going to force you to dress up in clothes that won’t make you feel comfortable or leave the comfort of your own home just for a fucking meal with Johann Schmidt. My trousers, they’re replaceable, they don’t mean shit to me, but you know what does? You. So please explain to me what I need to do for you to get into that beautiful brain of yours, what I can do to show that I really couldn’t give a shit about a little bit of blood”.

He always knew the right things to say, enough that you had to once again hide your face to hide the tears.

Your boyfriend had other ideas however as his hand teased up the sensitive part of your inner thighs. You knew his intended destination and reached out quickly to grip his wrist, stopping him, looking up with wide eyes, his words already forgotten about.

“Steve wait, I’m bleeding-”

He tilted his head in a knowing look, pushing easily against your grip until his fingers delved into your folds, brushing against your clit. You gasped, bodily jolting slightly. Steve lifted his other hand, wrapping it around your throat, pushing back until your body rested against the wall-length mirror.

“What did I say? I don’t care about a little bit of blood, now. Open”.

His tone went straight to your core, he rarely ordered things from you as your submissive tendencies meant you were rushing to do them anyway but with your anxiety holding you back, he decided to use his authority which instantly sent you into a horny mess.

“Yes sir”, you responded a moment later, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that he undoubtedly felt beneath his fingertips at your throat, as you opened your legs wider to him, giving him better access.

“Good girl”, the praise was like music to your ears as you were forced to watch his face as his fingers began slipping further down until at your entrance, not wasting any time to slip two fingers in. You moaned loudly, swapping to hold onto the wrist that was holding your neck, not choking, just making sure you didn’t look away from him. His movements were slow, inching in and out, making sure not to hurt you.

You had to admit, that it felt odd, knowing that the wetness that could be felt wasn’t your normal juices but in face period blood and with the cramping, it wasn’t the most comfortable but as his fingers began to curl, increasing your pleasure, the pain reduced.

“Listen to me closely”, he continued. “You are going to watch as I fuck you with my fingers until you’re cumming. Then as I’m fucking you, Bucky over there is going to heat the shower and all three of us are getting in and he can then decide what he’d like to do with you there, do you understand?”

Your cunt was clenching violently around his fingers at his demands, of which every single one you wanted, too lost in the thought of his fingers curling into that beautiful spot within. “Yes sir!”

“That’s my girl”, he praised with a small smile now etched on his face as his thumb began stroking gently against your eagerly awaiting clit. There was now only a jumble of moans and mewls leaving your mouth now as your hips began rolling against his hand, chasing your high. As stated before, with each passing minute, as the pleasure increased, all the cramping began to cease until it was a recent memory.

“Open a little wider baby,” he encouraged and your legs spread automatically giving him more room to add a third finger. Your eyes dropped to his wrist, the sight scaring you for a minute as a dribble of blood was nearly the white sleeve of his shirt but with a quick squeeze to your throat, you glanced up as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, riding his hand harder, gripping his wrist tighter, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. The addition of his third finger made your walls stretch to their limit, feeling full of his long, thick fingers and his thumb pressed harder.

You were about to open your mouth and ask if you could cum but Steve could already feel the tightening grip of your cunt, “cum for me, that’s it, good girl”.

Steve’s praises were always the most perfect sounding words from his gruff voice and your orgasm was suddenly pulsing through your entire body. If it wasn’t for his grip around your throat, you were sure you’d fall into his chest but he held you there firmly, not restricting your airways but just having control over your body.

He didn’t waste a second, using his blood-soaked hands to undo his belt and zipper, easing his cock out and then dragging your hips towards the edge of the countertop. Lifting your legs to rest on his hips, Steve’s cock pulsed as he eased it between your slit, breathing your entrance slowly.

“Please, please daddy!” you gasped out, losing all sense of control, needing to feel him now. Steve chuckled at the nickname, knowing your horniness was bringing out your submissiveness. To treat you well, he pushed his cock into your cunt in one quick thrust, causing your body to jolt to the side.

He held that position and in the background, you could just make out the sound of the shower being turned on by Bucky. Not that you were focused on that right now as Steve adjusted his position. With his red-stained hand, he gripped your hip in place whilst the other hand still held onto your throat, his mouth dipping so he could wrap his lips around your left nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, biting on it gently before releasing.

At the same time, he began to ease his cock out of you, nice and slowly so that your walls dragged around him before slapping back in again. Steve teased both of your nipples, licking around the areola before sucking them back into his mouth.

Your entire body was alight with warmth and pleasure, every thrust was powerful and breathtaking and his wicked tongue had you almost seeing stars with how hard it was making your cunt clench.

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Steve complimented as he swapped breasts, the nipples now being slightly puffy from being sucked on. “Seeing you this desperate, I don’t think I’m going to last very long”, he admitted, but you didn’t care, you were already sensing the change in your body as the tautness in your abdomen increased.

Steve did too and released your nipple, only to kiss you fiercely, it was mostly tongue and teeth, trying to dominate your mouth leaving you even more breathless and dizzy. Just as you were able to orgasm, your hand gripped around the bigger hand holding your neck, squeezing it slightly and he understood the message.

His fingers gripped ever so slightly harder, making it a little bit more difficult to breathe, just as you came hard. Your walls clamped down around his cock so strongly that he too came, surprising himself as he shouted your name, hunching over your body and releasing your throat just as the waves began to calm down. You sucked in the air greedily, body almost completely limp from being fucked so hard and being in the same position for so long.

Your eyes felt heavy as Steve kissed along your throat where his fingers had been, softly caressing the area, distracting you from his cock slipping out of your sensitive entrance. Risking a glance down, it was a mess, where his hands had been were red hand prints and his clothes were ruined but at that moment, you couldn’t care at all.

Steve stood back, catching your eye, “I love you”, he whispered, sweetly kissing your lips delicately, almost like he was scared to hurt you even though he’d just been fucking the life out of you.

“I love you too” you responded softly, tiredness evident in your tone.

Steve finally moved away, unbuttoning his ruined shirt which allowed Bucky to take his place, now standing completely naked, his cock proudly hard between his legs. Gently, he lifted both of your legs around his waist, locking your ankles before moving your arms around his neck, his metal arm easing beneath your arse and his flesh arm around your back as he lifted you.

“Feel like another round?” Bucky’s jokingly asked with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and you mewled in response, trying to slip further down his body so that his tip bumped into your cunt. “Hold on, mama”, and with that, he gently eased his veined cock into your warm pussy, before walking into the warm shower that had you melting into his embrace.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, he didn’t thrust, knowing that’s not what you needed right now, just letting you feel full up at the warmth from the water to ease your used muscles, it was perfect.

“Want you”, your voice oozed desperation as you lazily kissed up his neck, clenching slightly around his member as your arousal began to peak, needing to feel the drag of his cock..

“I want you to but I think someone tired you out”. You groaned, frowning at his words but putting no effort into moving, feeling too lazy and fucked out of your mind so decided on a different tactic.

“But I’d feel so much better if you fucked me too”.

Bucky laughed as Steve joined the two of you in the shower, luckily it was purposefully built so that the overhead shower covered all three of you.

“Are you trying to manipulate me into fucking you, sweet mama?” Bucky asked against your shoulder.

Smiling against his skin, you tried to act nonchalant, “no I’d never do that”.

As you finished your sentence, your back eased against the shower wall as Bucky held you there, readjusting his arms slightly to grip your hips, his face now hovering over yours, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you would never do that”, he sarcastically responded as he began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock very slowly in and out of you.

Once again, these men knew you so well, thankful for the slow speed as your cunt constricted harshly around him with how sensitive it was. It felt so good as he took his time, holding you close, every part of your body touching his as Steve washed behind him, smiling at the sound of your desperate noises.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky asked, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Yes sir, you feel so good”.

Bucky kept up those long slow paces for a while, Steve even began to grow hard again and found himself wanking off watching the two of you. Every thrust of Bucky’s cock had a pathetic mewl or moan escaping you, it was perfect as you held desperately to his shoulders, lazily kissing him until the sensation changed.

“I need to cum sir” you quickly breathed out but Bucky had other plans.

“Not just yet mama, you’ve got to hold it for me”. Your eyes filled with panic, looking at his as your brow furrowed, mouth gaping open.

“I- I can’t”.

“Yes you can, you’re a good girl and only good girls cum when they’re supposed to, just a little bit longer”. You could have cried as you gripped harder to his muscles, probably painfully so but he never said anything, just continued with the same slow fucking. You tried to relax your muscles and distract yourself from him but his cock was hitting all the right spots and it didn’t help matters when Steve suddenly grunted from behind Bucky as he came, his cum spurting out and into the water.

“Please!” you had to plead now, closing your eyes as the feeling of orgasm was so overwhelming.

Bucky grunted loudly and you could feel his cock pumping inside of you as he finally agreed, “yes, cum for me!” and at the same time snapped his hips hard into you. Your whole body went rigid, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him in waves of utter perfection.

It took a couple of seconds to calm down, Bucky’s half-limp dick sliding out and a gush of Steve and Bucky’s cum followed, now tainted pink by your period but you definitely didn’t care anymore.

Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t just ready to put you down but you would have most likely just sat on the floor, not trusting that your legs were strong enough to hold your weight. So both Ssteve and Bucky helped to wash your body with soap, being careful of the sensitive area between your legs before turning off the water and stepping out.

Whilst Bucky and you were first in the shower, Steve had cleaned up the mess on the countertop and had prepared a fresh pad, underwear and pyjamas for you to get into afterwards. As the three of you climbed into bed, you could honestly say you’d never felt this cosy before on your period.

Laying your head against Bucky’s chest, Steve sat beside you and scrolled through his phone, reading to order some takeout. The second-in-command kissed along your hairline, his fingers locking with yours as he asked, “how's the pain now?”

“It still aches but it’s a lot better than it was, thank you”.

Steve leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder, “good, I think we should make this a monthly occasion”.

Your used cunt clenched at that thought and you had to bite your lip from moaning, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him, “me too”.

#ngl i loved writing this one #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky oneshot #stucky smut #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mafia au #mine*

3K notes · View notes

burntheedges · 25 days

Text

Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3 chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left.

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene.

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.”

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take.

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop.

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless.

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look.

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.”

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile.

He smiled back. “When are you free?”

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together.

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach.

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.”

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner.

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around.

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him.

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed.

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.”

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her.

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him.

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking.

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–”

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough.

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him.

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch.

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you.

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this.

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.”

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled.

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand.

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat.

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together.

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered.

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked.

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.”

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned.

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night.

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant.

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date.

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard.

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better.

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.”

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table.

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.”

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.”

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last.

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner.

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door.

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful.

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again.

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch.

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.”

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you.

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words.

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes.

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.”

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself.

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them.

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there.

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched.

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.”

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled.

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.”

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.”

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed.

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.”

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss.

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation.

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.”

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again.

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

#frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #x reader #here we go #ts drabble challenge

262 notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

Text

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry.

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep.

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside.

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea?

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate.

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me.

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings.

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him.

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app.

— Thank ye, lassie.

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party.

The driver is chatty.

Really fucking chatty.

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour.

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now.

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up?

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels.

— Don’t have any.

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely.

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone.

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing.

— I’m focusing on my career.

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed.

— Career? How does that work out for ye?

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar.

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver.

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit?

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before.

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to, you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least.

— Um, sir?

— Aye, lassie?

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible.

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side.

— Didnae think I did.

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold.

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in.

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”.

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment.

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass.

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand.

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself – he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth.

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one.

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row.

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver.

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine.

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble.

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers.

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance.

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway.

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable.

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye?

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth.

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress.

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough.

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home.

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now.

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you.

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips.

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke.

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off.

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this?

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl.

He loves his team – and they will love you as much.

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone.

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe.

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye.

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride.

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes.

— And you aren’t?

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though.

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it.

— Goin’ bring her home?

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed.

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob.

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny.

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me.

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls.

— Too tight for my dick.

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky.

— Never intended to, sir.

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold.

— How is her mouth?

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt.

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny.

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after.

— Selfish, Mactavish.

— We all deserve to be selfish.

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention.

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team.

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise.

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again.

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #yandere #ghoap x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

859 notes · View notes

wildlife4life · 20 days

Text

Fuck-It Friday Coda

Tagged by the amazing @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @wikiangela and @tizniz (who dropped a whole new fic!) Thank you so much! Hope you all are just as hyped for bi-buck as I am!!!!!!! Not much to say than what's being said everywhere for 7x04. Here is my coda this historic episode and it can be read on ao3 as well. Enjoy!

It’s never really a surprise anymore whenever Buck runs into Tommy at the 118’s favorite hook and ladder bar. Hell, before they broke up, Tommy took him to this bar on a couple dates. Awkward dates but dates all the same.

Buck is waiting for the latest rounds of drinks at the bar when a familiar hand lands on his shoulder, “Hey Evan.”

He whirls around and comes face to face with the very man that opened Buck up to whole new world. “H-h-hey Tommy.” He greets nervously, gaze flickering over to where his team, Maddie, Athena, and some friends from dispatch sat.

Tommy catches it and smirks, “Here with the entire crew huh? What’s the cause for this meet up? Didn’t see or hear about any big Buckley heroics over the radio waves.”

Buck finally catches Eddie attention, and his partner stiffens slightly at the sight of Tommy. They were all still friends, mostly, but after the pilot ended things with Buck, sides were taken… in more ways than one.

“You lied back then. In your loft, before I kissed you.” Tommy stated, staring out the hanger doors, hands shoved deep into his flight suit’s pockets.

Wretchedness gripped Buck’s throat tightly. He knew where this was headed, and for just the briefest moment he wanted to fight it. Fight for what he and Tommy had. “I didn’t lie. I wanted to get to know you, I thought-I still think you are cool, and I just wanted you see that.” His voice was high and tight with the brittle lie.

Tommy shook his head and Buck caught his grimacing smile, “Buck you need to stop lying to yourself and open your damn eyes. I have and you want to know what I saw?” His voice cracked with anguish.

Buck’s lower lip trembled, and he could feel the prickle of tears. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to face it. Because if he opened his eyes to what Tommy is seeing, the despair would be 10 times worse than what he’s facing at the time.

Always the bravest of two of them, Tommy scoffed at Buck’s silence and pushed on, “You weren’t vying for my attention. You never have. Evan you never did any sort of chasing in this relationship, I did. I so was blinded by how endearing and open you were about your best friend, that I failed to see you misplacing you’re confused emotions onto the nearest person showing you affection. Me.”

The tears began to flow when Buck shook his head, “No Tommy. I liked you; I just didn’t know about that part of myself until you showed it to me.” He tried defending.

His boyfriend snorted, “Liked. Past. Not present.”

And Buck’s heart dropped into his gut.

Finally, Tommy looked at him and everything in his stomach becomes rancid at the utter heartbreak on the older man’s face, “I’m glad I could help you embrace your bisexuality. Truly I am. I know how freeing it can be. But Evan, those feelings you’ve have for men, for that one special man have always been there and instead of facing them, you took the easy way out with me. And fuck man, it hurts. It really does.”

“Tommy…” Buck started, but Tommy’s hand gripping his wrist silenced him.

“Evan-Buck. Its-well it’s not entirely okay, but you didn’t know or see and neither did I. At least not until you came back from Chim’s bachelor party. You two couldn’t even look each other in the eye and you’ve been off since.”

That’s because he and Eddie got into the biggest fight of their lives during Chimney’s bachelor weekend. Because Eddie had been acting off since Buck came out, even though he promised nothing would change. Because Buck once again became enviously green when Eddie kept his attention on the private bar tender. Because Eddie looked Buck in the eye and asked, ‘Why does he get that part of you?’ in the middle of their screaming match that Buck still has no idea how it started but ended there. Because they both walked away, too scared to confront any of those feelings. Because Buck knew deep down, he wanted to give everything he was giving to Tommy, to Eddie and so much more.

“You are such a wonderful man Buck and I know it was never your intention to hurt anyone. But us being together, it’s destroying me and you and...” Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, “And Eddie.”

And there it was. Everything that Buck has been denying since Tommy confronted him in his loft. The person who was really behind Buck’s complex and confused emotions those few months ago. It was time Buck accepted it. It was time to open his eyes. It was time to let Tommy go.

Buck let out a sob and tugged Tommy into a tight embrace, “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Tommy sniffled, “You have nothing to apologize for Evan.” He pulled back and put Buck at arm’s length, giving him a wet smile, “I was more than honored to be your queer awakening and guru.”

Buck barked out a soggy laugh, “You turned my entire world on its axis man, but in the best way possible.”

“You’re a special one Evan and Eddie… god what you two have and what it can be.” Tommy shook his head chuckling, “I can’t stand in the way of that anymore.”

The younger firefighter stuttered out a breath, “I think that’s more on me than you.” And gets a hum of agreement from his now ex-boyfriend. He stuck a hand out, “Friends?”

Tommy didn’t even hesitate and slapped his own hand into Buck’s, squeezing tight, “Absolutely. Just give me some time, and yourself as well.”

Buck took two days after the break-up to mourn what had been his best relationship to date, to wallow in his unknown carelessness, and to confront those mixed emotions that drew him to Tommy in the first place. Then he packed his duffle and went to work.

Chimney was the first to confront him since Tommy turned down a night out at the karaoke bar and explained that he and Buck broke up. Hen followed because those two paramedics tell each other everything. Bobby reminded Buck that he was willing to listen before giving his shoulder a squeeze. Ravi seemed, relieved, but sympathetic. And Eddie pulled him into the tightest embrace asking, “Why?”

Buck didn’t give him the entire answer. Simply stated, “It wasn’t working.”

Months later Buck gave him the entire truth by taking a page out Tommy’s book and kissing Eddie senseless with a firm grip on his chin. Eddie, who was babbling away in his kitchen about not seeing what was in front of him and desperate to know if Buck is willing to give Eddie every part of himself, kissed Buck back with ferocity. When they pulled apart Buck finally told him why Tommy ended things, “He saw what we were all too scared to look at.”

That was almost a month ago and Buck is deliriously happy with his life, with his boyfriend, with Eddie. He doesn’t need to be weird or nervous around the man that helped lead him here. So, he winks at Eddie, telling him it’s all good, and gives his attention to Tommy. “No big newsworthy rescues. Though Chimney did rescue his 100th cat.”

Tommy shakes his head laughing, “An almost impossible feat.”

“Very much so.” Buck comments, “We’re here to celebrate Maddie’s promotion at dispatch. Officially a supervisor.”

“Hey good for her!” Tommy exclaims, “Honestly surprised it took this long. Her voice seems to be on all the major calls lately.”

Buck nods, “Yea. Would have been a different ending for all of us after the bridge collapse last year if it weren’t for my sister.”

“Man, you Buckley’s and your heroism.”

Buck blushes, Tommy Kinnard always the charmer. The other man smirks, knowing the effect he has on him still. “You look good Buck. Happy. Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain firefighter that’s all over your Instagram lately? Hm?”

As if summoned by Tommy’s mere mention of him, a red Henley covered arm snakes its away around Buck’s waist and warmth lines up along his back. “Hey Tommy, good to see yuh man.” Eddie greets smoothly before nuzzling close to Buck’s ear, “Get that drink order in yet babe?” He asks just loud enough to be overheard by certain people close by.

The pilot’s smirk broadens, but gives a friendly slap to Eddie’s back, “Good to see yuh too Diaz. Been a minute.”

Eddie nods and his nose moves along Buck’s jaw at the movement, making him tremble, “It has. Maybe we can meet up to spar sometime.”

Before his bisexual awakening and the admittance of his true feelings, hearing his boyfriend make plans with another man would have sent him on a downward spiral. Now, thanks in part to Tommy, Eddie, his sister, and the entirety of the 118, but mostly himself, Buck is secure and at peace with his place in their lives, in Eddie’s life.

But that still doesn’t stop his big hearted, ever thoughtful boyfriend from asking, “I know I’ve only taught you the basics, but you could join Evan.”

Buck leans back into Eddie’s embrace and brushes his lips against his partner’s cheek, “Hmm. I’d rather go for the title on more equal grounds, and I really want to save myself the embarrassment of Tommy seeing my ass get kicked.”

His ex snorts out a laugh, while Eddie’s cheeks pinken at Buck’s innuendo of the actual kind of sweaty, half naked situation they want to be in. “Still shameless as ever huh Evan?” Tommy comments.

Buck shrugs, “Nothing to be ashamed of. My boyfriend is hot and I prefer to have my ass handed to me in more intimate ways. But you two can kick, spin, and punch your little hearts out. I’ll enjoy some time with Christopher, maybe even take him to a field and play the much superior sport, football.”

“God you really do not like basketball huh?” Tommy retorts with a shake of his head, probably remembering the first and last time they played, ending with Buck almost breaking Eddie’s ankle in a confused jealous rage.

“I won’t let him near anything orange and spherical.” Eddie jokes giving Buck a tight squeeze. “But if you are up to it, I would love to come over and go a few rounds. You do have a pretty sweet set up.”

The LAFD piolet grins, “Bring the Chevelle too, we can give it a once over.”

Buck makes a mental reminder to give the back seat of said car a good cleaning because the last time he and Eddie drove it out, Buck took Eddie apart in back seat and a t-shirt wipe down definitely did not suffice as ‘clean up’.

Eddie clears his throat, and his blush deepens. Yea, he’s thinking the same. “Sounds good. I’ll shoot you text and set up a time.”

Knowing the conversation is coming to an end, Buck flags down the bar tender before looking over at Tommy, “You should join us. Drinks are on,” He pauses trying to remember who lost the credit card roulette and laughs when it comes to him, “Drinks are on Josh.”

Tommy softens at the invitation, “Drinks with the 118, haven’t done that in a while. I’m in. Miller lite to start.”

Buck laughs, “Yea I know. Go join the others, Eddie and I got this.”

“Yea, I know you do. BuckandEddie, the dream team. Happy for you both, truly.” Tommy kindly states, then gives a shoulder pat to the two of them before strolling away to join the 118 and dispatchers. They faintly hear loud cheers and greetings when he gets close, their friends and family always happy to see the man who put his life and career on the line for them.

Buck places their drink order and when the bar tender slides away, Eddie pulls him back into his chest and growls into his ear, “You may not be green with envy anymore, but I sort of am.”

A shiver runs down Buck’s spine at his boyfriend’s possessive tone and knew all too well that their time at the bar was going to be short lived…unless.

“It’s no Chevelle, but the jeep is parked pretty close.” Buck breathlessly tells him.

Eddie gives him a wicked grin, “You want to take me in the jeep?”

“Wanna go for another title?”

I put in so many references from the episode and previous episodes too, as mini celebration to the 100th episode. Hope you all enjoyed! If you want to know when I drop coda fic go interact with my pinned post. Tagging (no pressure): @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @bi-buckrights @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @bidisasterbuckdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @bi-buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @goforkinard @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @bibuckbuckley @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @bigfootsmom @911onabc @911-on-abc @homerforsure

219 notes · View notes