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#the fool was the one who made it all along
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I Love You, It's Ruining My Life
Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing
Work Count: 5.2k
You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”
Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”
“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”
“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.
You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.
“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 
“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”
Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 
Azriel arched a brow in question. 
“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”
Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”
He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”
You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 
Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 
“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 
He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 
You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.
---
A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.
Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”
“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”
The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”
Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”
That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”
You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”
He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.
“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 
It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 
He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 
Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.
Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.
---
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 
It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 
“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.
“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 
His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.
Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 
Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.
Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 
Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”
Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”
“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”
Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”
Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 
---
It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.
Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 
It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.
You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 
Cauldron, you were doomed. 
“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Nowhere,” you lied.
She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 
“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 
“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”
Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”
You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.
You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”
Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”
“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”
Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”
You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”
“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”
Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”
---
Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.
“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.
“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”
He smiled. “I love you, too.”
He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 
It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 
You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 
---
“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.
He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”
You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”
Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”
You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.
Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”
“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.
What the hell. 
Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?
He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?
It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 
And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?
His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?
It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 
Did he feel the same way?
He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 
Maybe he should be with you. 
He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.
Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.
You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.
“Az?” You asked.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.
Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.
The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 
You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.
He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.
You had a long night ahead of you.
---
It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.
It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.
He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.
“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.
“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.
Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.
“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.
“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.
“Settled?” Rhys offered.
Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”
“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.
“I do. Of course I love her.”
“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”
“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”
“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.
He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.
---
Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 
Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.
You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 
“You do not,” you smiled.
“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 
You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 
He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 
Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.
Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.
You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 
Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.
“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.
“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”
“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”
Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.
“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 
“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 
You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 
Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 
Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 
All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.
You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 
Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.
---
Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 
Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 
He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 
He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.
“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.
You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 
He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 
Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”
“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 
You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”
“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”
You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”
“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 
A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.
Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”
“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 
“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”
“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 
Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 
“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”
He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”
You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.
Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 
One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.
“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.
Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.
He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”
“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 
“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.
“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.
His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 
After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”
Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”
“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 
“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 
His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 
He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.
Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 
---
You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 
You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 
How could you ever be sure?
After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 
Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…
You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 
What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.
Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 
Whatever this ended up being.
Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 
“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.
Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 
“Hey,” he said quietly. 
“Hi,” you replied timidly.
His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 
He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 
You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”
His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 
It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 
On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”
Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 
You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 
Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 
You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 
I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 
Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 
---
Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 
He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 
He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 
He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 
You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 
“Hi,” you said, quietly. 
“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 
You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.
“I read it,” you whispered. 
He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 
Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 
He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 
“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”
Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”
“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.
You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”
Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 
You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 
“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”
“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 
“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.
Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 
---
After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”
Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”
You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.
“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 
After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”
You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”
Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much
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ellecdc · 2 days
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i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃
idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.
now i bid you good day my lady 🫡
I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for
poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat
Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.
“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.
“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.
“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”
Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”
The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.
Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.
The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.
“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.
“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 
“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 
“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.
“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”
Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.
“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.
“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 
“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 
“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”
It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”
They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”
Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 
And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.
You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”
Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 
“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 
You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.
“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.
You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 
“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”
“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”
“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 
Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 
Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”
You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.
“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.
“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.
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enwoso · 2 days
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COUPLE OF FOOLS! — alessia russo
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your cheek was pressed against the back of your hand as you slept on the plane. the afternoon air surrounding the plane was cool as you napped. you and the england squad were well under way on your journey half way across the world to australia.
and due to you having a rush of energy while everyone was asleep or being sent to sleep by your chattiness when you were wide awake but you now were the one in dreamland while everyone else was either playing card games or watching movies.
as you slept peacefully, your girlfriend, alessia and a few of the other team members: tooney, zel, roebuck and keira were sitting in the row next to you as they played cheat with the deck of cards that ellie had supplied, while a couple others like alex and mary watched.
alessia sat the closest to where you were sleeping as it was her close proximity that got you to sleep in the first place otherwise you would probably be slumped next to her right now watching them play cards. however when a particular loud groan or cheer would occur from one of the girls they would be first to earn a hard death stare from the striker.
ella was so close to winning when she was caught out on her bluff by katie resulting in a loud groan of annoyance from the brunette as she slammed her cards down on the table.
"ah man, for fuck sake!" she groaned out, throwing her cards onto the small airplane table in annoyance a little louder than alessia would have liked as she stared daggers at her best friend who sunk down a little in her seat peering over to you checking that you were still asleep, and luckily for ella's sake you were — for a now.
"oops" ella muttered, as she slowly turned to face her best friend shining an innocent smile at the blonde noticing out the corner of her eye that you were beginning to stir and mumble out some complaints about being woke up.
alessia turning to you as you rubbed your eyes adjusting to the bright lights on the plane taking all of the sleepy energy you hand in you to sit up. frowning as you stared at the tiny screen on the back on the back of the TV.
less came over and sat on the seat next to you which had your legs sprawled across it, as she lifted them placing them on top of hers rubbing her hand up and down them. smiling at the sight of you in her hoodie which was in fact a size or two, too big for you.
pulling yourself up and onto alessia's lap mumbling in the process how you were gonna take care of ella later earning a small laugh from the blonde. your movements were slow and almost zombie-like, your head hanging low as you placed your head on less' chest in hopes to get comfy again.
a few shuffles later, alessia watching in awe at your sleepy figure as you found home on her chest your arms hugging her lower body as the striker without hesitation wrapped her arms around you tracing small circles into your back.
"baby, your not going back to sleep are you?" alessia asked as she ran a few fingers through your head of hair, looking up at her you smiled and mumbled something along the lines of "mhm your comfy."
"i did tell you to sleep when everyone else was love" less poked at your side, you humming as you closed your eyes once again.
ella, keira, alex, ellie and now georgia watched the interaction between the couple from the row beside you and alessia, keira turning to the others, "i think that's the first time she's woke up and not been in a huff"
"yeah i mean she looks pretty content in less' arms!" ellie said making note of your peaceful demeanour. ella who was expecting you to wake up and have a strop, smiled "i mean look at them — they were made for each other." the others nodding there head as they began to restart the game of cards now with one less player.
your body began to relax once again, your breathing starting to slow. alessia feeling your change in movement as you practically melted into the blonde.
"i love you" alessia whispered as she placed a small kiss to your forehead as you mumbled back "i love you too"
lifting your head a little, "i'm not actually going back to sleep" you sighed as alessia scoffed "your eyes are betraying your mouth there love!" a small laughed escaped from her as she looked down to you with your eyes that were still screwed shut.
opening your eyes a little, as the blonde looked at you ad if you were the only person on the earth. feeling the measure of her stare you squinted right back at her
"i just haven't fully woken up from my nap yet!" you spoke as her eyebrows furrowed together, "nap? babe you were asleep for 4 hours!" this time it was your turn for your eyebrows to furrow.
"it weren't that long" you said as she nodded her head slowly at you as you turned your head a little to the screen mounted on the back of the chair squinting a little to read the numbers in the top corner and surely enough it was now 2, you having fell asleep at 10.
"oh" was all you said before alessia was leaning down placing a kiss on your nose causing your face to scrunch making you readjust yourself so that you were sat straighter in her hold moving your arms to be leaning on her chest.
bumping your nose with hers whispering over her lips, "kiss me then" alessia's lips turned upwards in a ghost of a smirk, before she placed them in yours.
one of alessia's hands moving up the side of your hoodie rubbing small circles into your skin as her other hand gripped your waist.
before the kiss could go any further, ella and georgia began to throw the deck of cards off you most of them landing beside you but many of them skimming the top of your head. there aim not being that accurate to hit you in the head.
"oi lovebirds! i know i said yous were cute but that weren’t a cue for yous to start and suck each others faces off!" ella fake gagged as your turned your head shooting daggers as the two as alessia carried on kissing you raising her middle finger towards ella and georgia the sound of snickering coming from the group.
"i'd like to remind you that your committing the crime of public displays of affection!" ella voiced as she directed the attention back to her best friend.
alessia raised her hands in defence, "my bad for showing my girlfriend some love, the PDA police got me!" you laughed at less and her antics . truth be told alessia would do anything to make you laugh and see your pretty smile.
she was in heaven with you grinning at her like that.
"your such a dork!" you smiled as she cupped your cheeks and planted a kiss on your lips. she then trailed up to your cheeks, kissing your nose twice before peppering more kisses on your forehead and chin. holding your face as you giggled and gasped out of breath. "love, stop please less-"
"what? if i'm committing a crime might as well go all out!" she rolled her eyes as she let up on peppering your face with kisses when as she left one last kiss on your lips not before going down to your neck and leaving a single kiss there.
"less." you warned as her breath fanned over your neck lingering where she had just kissed knowing her already what her next move was to do.
"don't" you pleaded, "later."
she reclined and became face to face with you and she whispered so only you could hear, "you'd let me commit a crime for a kiss on your pretty little lips, but won't let me give you a hickey in front of our best mates"
you looked at her twinkling eyes, and reciprocated the same tension she was giving you. you bit your lip still staring at her and nodded, "later, i promise" you whispered.
alessia cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, "right" she answered.
meanwhile, the others had averted their eyes back to the game they were playing it not being as tension filled as it had been before. giving each other an eyebrow raise and a double glance between you and alessia.
ella deciding to continue the topic of the couple eta seats away from them, "i love them honestly, there biggest supporter!"
"even when they get lovey dovey?" katie questioned seeing the comment the brunette had made jsut minutes ago.
"yeah! thought she were gonna come and chase after me of summit for waking her up" ella said as the other just laughed knowing it wasn't out of the realm of possibility however it would have made for a very short chase considering there was only a small amount of space to be chased in since you were on a plane.
"but instead she's made a beeline for less and look at her now, all calm and relaxed!" ella finished declaring her happiness to the small group of players
"even though it's a little strange walking in on them sucking each others faces, i've never seen them so happy other than when their together!" georgia said providing her input.
"couple of fools in love, as they say!" keira smiled looking over to her two friends. "it's hard to hate them when you hear the way y/n talks about alessia" keira added.
"what! really what does she say?" ella asked nosily wanting some info to be able to tease you about later.
"yeah half the time i forget its literally less she's talking about when we're having a conversation" keira says slightly exposing her friend.
"she's just deeply in love with the girl!”
the four of them glanced at you and alessia on the other row of the plane having your own conversation in your own little bubble, just the two of you.
your arms wrapped around her neck as you lay on her chest looking at her as she was speaking. while one of her hands rested on your back and the other on your waist keeping you in place.
alessia smiling as she talked to you. the blonde knew her friends were having their own conversation, probably about you two. however she didn't think to join in, maybe later.
right now she was with you. the only person she could ever need, ever love. her person. her girl.
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liked by keirawalsh and 621,047 others
alessia at least someone was comfy🙄
comments -
yourusername always comfy when i’m with you<3
41m 381 likes     reply
-> alessia aren’t you the charmer since you woke up!
-> yourusername i’m always a charmer😏
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theirishwolfhound · 2 days
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I do love the idea of an unhinged reader. Not like brutally unhinged but... like the kind that is harmlessly annoying and is just a brat to Task Force 141.
Like the mother fuckers nickname is Menace and they're somehow still alive after everything so they make it everyone's problem.
They're great at what they do, amazing even— but no team wants menaces like Menace, not even the heavens nor the hells want the damn person.
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This is the same Menace who wears a devilish half-mask, but only above their mouth so people can see their shit-eating grin (think similar to the ghoul mask above) as they leave small firecrackers under the lids of toilet seats, or so people notice the way their lips curl up in mock disgust when someone is talking.
Menace who only goes through with the SAS training to one up another soldier they despised, enough to have sicked a pack of squirrels on that they personally hand fed a few days after— they even bonded enough with the little fuckers that when they were finally transferred out to be someone else's problem, the squirrels would steal the remaining soldiers foods.
Laswell, whose grand idea of knocking the boys down a peg since she's tired of their shenanigans includes getting this Menace of a person to join 141 with faint threats of blackmail— to which Coporal Menace respects, leading Kate to being the only one who is not subjected to the dumpster fire that is about to happen, but is only encouraged by her wife.
Price, who in his right mind, nearly rejects the idea of this misfit joining because of their turnover rate but gives in when Laswell tells him it would be worth it— that her wife likes them and they're an excellent solider after all.
Immediately upon arrival, Menace lives up to their name— pissing on the side of the building as if to mark their new territory before deciding it would be a good idea to rile up the behemoth of a man by asking Price: "Didn't anyone tell the poor bastard that Halloween was four fuckin' months ago? Look at 'em he looks emo."
It wasn't until then that the poor Captain realized how much of an untamed brat his new corporal was— only to be further set in after the first two weeks on base.
Sure Menace got along with Soap, but they were far too alike for Menace's likings and Gaz, sweet sweet Gaz, gave them a few too man odd glances and playfully snide remarks for their liking— meanwhile Ghost had made them scrub the bathroom from top to bottom with a small sponge, and well they could already see the forming regret in Price's eyes.
So Menace did what they did best.
It started out simple: silently attaching balloons on strings to the back of their clothes without them noticing, flipping all of the furniture upside down during the middle of the night, purposefully mocking every single move of one of the operators for a full day, sugar in the salt shaker or salt in the sugar dish, you name it they did it.
Glitterbomb the captain? Oh yeah, and there's still glitter in his mustache.
Tied the two sergeants' doors together so that neither could open it? Done and done, they were locked in their rooms for a good hour until someone cut the rope.
Move the lieutenant’s furniture two inches to the right so that he would constantly stub his toe? Yeah, you can practically see him fuming after every trip to his office.
And what irked the lads the most? Menace kept getting away without being caught— managing to even out sneak Ghost, which the only reason for it is: Menace knowing they don't know what they look like without that mask. So obviously they take it off and blend in with the many other people on base.
They made a fool of their sergeants, their lieutenant, and their captain and it was time to get back at the cunning prankster— but Menace grew suspicious. Usually they would have been booted out by a normal team by then, but what Menace came to realize a bit too late was that Task Force 141 was not normal.
And reality came to a head when Menace was called to Price's office to collect something— only for that something to be a bucket of ice cold water falling onto their head and for the captain to tell their now soaking wet and cold Coporal: "Game's on, brat."
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noneorother · 3 days
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The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1
part 1 l part 2
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This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.
I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover
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Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great
2. The duelling US covers
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Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.
Tier: Blessed by God Herself
3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover
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How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF
4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers
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This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)
5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued
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I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.
Tier: Bad
6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover
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For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job
7. France, De bons présages cover
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Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)
8. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.
Tier: WTF
9. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad
10. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF
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END of round one. I need a nap.
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lynnsadventur · 2 days
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You finally finished your senior year of cheerleading. All the hard work you put in is starting to overtake you emotionally as you walk through the hallway towards the locker room for the last time. It's a bittersweet feeling.
Your eyes are a bit misty, and even though you've made this walk hundreds of times, the eerily quiet halls of the vacant school undistracting, you end up in the boys locker room. By the time you reach what should be your locker you realize what you did.
You turn around to try and leave but coming in the door are the three football coaches. A little buzzed from their celebratory end of season drinks...
*******************
*Shit, shit shit!*
I scramble quickly into the adjacent shower room to avoid the approaching football coaches. I silently chastise myself as I hear the laughing coaches enter the locker room.
*I made it four years!* I think to myself, with my back pressed against the community shower wall. *Four years without making a fool out of myself, now here I am, trapped in the boys locker room! How could I have been so stupid?*
*Maybe they'll leave. Just come in to drop things off, then they'll head home ... Vanessa, what were you thinking?*
Click! The sound of beer cans opening echo through the locker room as the coaches cheer to another successful season. They weren't leaving anytime soon, and there was no way out past them.
I silently stand there, wishing that my absurd situation would just go away. The coaches start talking about the last game, their favorite players, prospects for the next season, and their least favorite players. Time seemed to go on forever, as they reminisced about their former days of football glory.
"Hey Tim," one of the other coaches called out. "Tell George about that chick you fucked, back in our Senior year of varsity."
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I could hear him laugh loudly, clear his throat, and answer with a deep voice. "Who, Teresa? Come on, Steve. Alright, alright. Oh man, you won't believe this. So, it's homecoming, right? We're down 13 in the end of the second. Not the best for homecoming game, right? Well, half time rolls around and the homecoming procession is going to start in an hour. A lot of the candidates for queen were cheerleaders, so they had to be given some time to change into their dresses, all that. So, I head back to the locker room, figuring I'd freshen up, get my head back in the game. The other players stuck around the field. So, I get in there, and find, none other but Teresa, standing at the mirror!"
The coaches laugh, and George, the one who apparently was hearing this for the first time, says "What the fuck? What was she doing in there?"
"Well, see, apparently all the mirrors were taken in the ladies room. She figured that since all of the guys were out on the field, so she had it all to herself. So, here I am, football stud, standing alone in the locker room with the hottest girl in school, can you guess what happened?"
Steve starts to laugh as Tim pounds his fist rhythmically into his hand. "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmmm! Fuck yeah, bitch!" George joins the laughter as Tim mimics the girl's voice. "Yeah, T, give me that big black cock!"
I peek my head around to see Tim scooting along the benches, humping the air as if he was fucking the girl all over the place, as the other two coaches' chuckling erupts into roaring throes of laughter. My eyes get wide as I slip back behind the wall.
"Man," Tim adds as he opened another beer. "She went on to win homecoming queen, but me? Man, I was literally floating on that field! Won that game with MVP, and that night is when I got scouted by Stanford. So, I have Teresa's tight and white pussy to thank for my football successes!"
The three men continue laughing as a couple of beers are opened again. I silently sigh, roll my head back, and squeeze my eyes shut, as if I could just wish myself out of this room. I knew guys could be nasty, but I was surprised to hear the coaches raunchiness.
"Fuckin' cheerleaders, man." Steve interjects. "Have you seen the ones we got this year? The varsity? Holy fuck!"
George laughs and chimes in. "Yeah, man, girls today are something else. Maybe it's the outfits, but they just look ... fucking hot!"
"I know! And they're nasty as hell! You listen to the team in the locker room, and what some of those 'young, innocent girls' be doin'? They'd be putting that girl Teresa to shame!" Tim resumes his impression of fucking, while pretending to spank the air over and over again.
"Well, let's play a little game. Marry, fuck, kill. Cheerleading varsity squad." My eyes widen. My heart begins to race. I've already heard too much, and the coaches had no intention of leaving any time soon. *How am I going to get out of this?*
Steve goes first. "Okay. First, kill. Brittany." The men all simultaneously groan. "She's fat, ugly, and a bitch. I mean, you gotta choice on at least one of those things, damn!" The men laugh in agreement. "Ok, now for fuck. Part of me wants to say Megan, you know, word in the locker room is she gives great head, and her body is alright, but ... fuuuuuck, have you seen that blonde one? Vanessa?"
I let out a sharp gasp and hold my breath. I don't think they heard me.
"Yeah man, that girl is ... she's the whole fucking package. Full tits, nice ass, she's super lean, and God! She's got a nice camel toe. You guys seen it during those jumps? Those shorts under her skirt fit nice and snug over that juicy pussy!"
I cover my crotch with one hand and open my mouth in indignation. I hide behind the wall, silently, listening intently to their conversation.
"You know, word is she's still a virgin." George replies. "I know, that's why I'd fuck her! What if she's no good? I know Megan can give good head, so I'll just marry her. Great blowjobs for life! If Vanessa turned out to be a freak, I'd keep her as a side chick."
I can't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't quite true, but close enough. I had one guy, fairly small, who popped my cherry in sophomore year. It was over in a few seconds, and we broke up soon after when he moved away. No one since then.
George speaks up. "Okay, kill?" They all speak in unison. "Brittany."
George chuckles. "Yup, who else. Marry? That Asian chick. She's got a tight little body, great for tossing around. Plus, I love some good Chinese food."
Tim chuckles and retorts, "She's Japanese man."
"Alright fine, I'll buy her a fucking Chinese cookbook, are you happy?" They all laugh gregariously. "And fuck? That girl Vanessa. Man, she is hot! She's got a porn star's body. I love that short blonde hair, just long enough to grab but short enough to see her shoulders ... and I bet you that bitch has some pent up sexual tension in her. I'd like to fuck that out of her!"
"Alright, Tim, you're up." He sighs and thinks about it for a moment. "Okay, blowjob girl, what's her name? Megan? Okay. So, I marry Megan, right? Stay married for a while, keep getting that nasty head for a year or two. Then I fuck Vanessa." The other two groan at hearing the same choice for all three.
"Hold on, hold on now. I'm not done. So, I fuck Vanessa, right? Then, after I show Vanessa the ropes, I kill my wife, ehhh, what her name again? Blow job girl. Then I fucking marry Vanessa!"
They all erupt into loud laughter as Tim continues while laughing, "No way I can just fuck that tight white ass once! Fuck man, and those titties on that girl? She looks like a God damn model!"
I stand there, in the darkness of the showers, wide eyed with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Three grown men, objectifying my body. So many feelings were rushing through me; indignation, dread at being discovered, fear of losing my reputation ... and something else. I felt ... vibrant. My nipples felt swollen. My pussy felt an ache, a sort of unfamiliar yearning, that I couldn't quite explain.
The guys continue to talk, and I feel a chill as the sun disappears from the locker room window past the men. I was only wearing my cheerleading outfit; a top that ended above my belly button, and a skirt that ended just below the athletic booty shorts the coaches were leering about earlier. I slip off my tennis shoes to tiptoe around the shower room, see if I could devise another way out. I sneak further onwards along the wall -
The motion activated lights that had previously not detected me blasted on with a blinding florescent whiteness. I gasp loudly and reach for the wall as I inadvertently grab the shower handle ... which then turns on and blasts me with ice cold water! I scream loudly in shock.
"AHHHHHH! Oh God, no!" I slip on the slick floor and fall ungraciously onto my back, still under the jet of cold water. I lie there, gasping and sputtering as the shockingly frigid water blasts my face.
"What the fuck is that?!" One of the coaches yells out. I hear them all jump up to investigate as I whimper, mortified, sprawled out on the ground.
Steve pops his head into the shower room and whispers, "oh fuck." Tim and George appear at the entrance as well. "Hey, that's Vanessa, fuck." They murmur to each other. Tim steps up.
"Hey, are you okay?!" He calls out. He turns off the water as I pant, still in shock from the icy blast and the bright lights.
Steve crouches down next to me. "What in the hell are you doing here?! This is the -"
"Men's locker room, I know." I retort, with a fair amount of attitude in my tone. I slowly try to get up and slip back down onto my butt. Tim chuckles a bit and helps me up by the shoulders.
"How long have you been in here?" George asks, a hint of concern on his face. I shoot him a venomous scowl and reply, "Long enough." The other coaches exchange glances as I pick up my shoes. "I heard you, talking about looking up my skirt, being gross about my body, just ..." I sigh as I start for the door.
"Look, I just want to go. I just want to forget about everything I just heard and - woah!" I slip backwards again, this time Tim catches my fall, his strong arms wrapped around me.
"Nuh - uh, no way." Tim replies as he spins me around to face him. "We caught you sneaking around, off hours, in the men's locker room. There's a lot of expensive equipment in here ... pads, helmets; what, were you stealing?" The other coaches gives Tim a quizzical look, and he waves them off.
Indignantly, I push his arms off of me. "No! Why would I do that?! What could I possibly gain from some old smelly equipment?"
Steve chimes in, obviously understanding the angle Tim was working. "I don't know, you tell us. Were you looking for some old smelly equipment? Maybe some jock straps to smell. Sounds perverted, what if the student body found out about your ... fetish?" Steve smiled with a devilish grin. I stare at him incredulously.
George stood by the entrance to the shower, arms folded. He was looking at me, as if I was a piece of meat. I glance down at myself, and see my wet uniform plastered to my skin, showing more of my stomach and thighs than usual. I return his gaze.
"How old are you, Vanessa?" George asks, an ominous air about him. I nervously stroke a strand of hair and put it behind my ears. "Ermm... eighteen." I should've lied, but I didn't.
The men chuckle, as I glance around, shifting my feet nervously. "Oh yeah?" George says, pulling out his keys from his pocket. "When did you turn eighteen?"
I glare at him. "Day before yesterday." George looks at the other coaches, and with a knowing smirk, flips his keys in the air and starts to whistle cheerfully as he went to the entrance of the locker room. I hear the key enter the lock and click. That click seemed to echo through the locker room louder than anything else.
Tim steps closer behind me, much closer than what was comfortable. "You know, Vanessa, you might be in a lot of trouble." I feel his hand graze the back of my thigh, just below my cheek. I shudder, and begin to cry.
"There, there," Steve says as he approaches me from the front. "We can work this out. You don't have to cry. Here, let's help you relax, then we'll talk it over. Hey, George?"
"Already on it!" He calls out as he comes around the corner with a bottle of Jameson in hand. He pours some into a small Dixie cup and passes it to Steve.
He turns to me and offers the drink. I've never had whiskey before. In fact, I have never been drunk. The most I've had was a sip of champagne at a wedding, but other than that, nothing. Steve sensed my hesitation. "It will help you relax, V. Can i call you V? Take this and we'll come up with a solution to our predicament.
I stare at him, nostrils flared and my fists balled up. I see right through his charade. I yelp when Tim reaches down and roughly grabs a handful of my ass. "Drink it." He states with a serious tone.
He continues to squeeze my ass as I shakily reach for the cup. I swirl the contents nervously as Steve nods. I first take a sip and sputter and cough. "Ugghhh, woah! It's awful!" "That's because you have to down it, V! Try it again."
I take the cup and swill it back. It burns as it goes down my throat. Steve tops it off as I stare at him incredulously. "Just one more, Vanessa." I drink it all at once and throw down the Dixie cup, still glaring into Steve's eyes.
Tim releases his grip on my cheek and chuckles. George rejoins the group as the three grown men stand facing me, arms crossed. I try to match their intimidation, but start to shiver uncontrollably from the wetness of my clothes.
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Tim speaks up. "Where do you want to go to college, Vanessa?" I look at him, confused at the question. I start to feel a strange buzz in my head. "Uhm, I don't know. I'd like a UC ... but, that's expensive."
"What about cheer? You want to keep doing that?" Tim asks, pacing back and forth.
"Well, yeah. But it's hard to get in the better schools. Our cheer team doesn't place that high."
They laugh. "Girl, you have everything it takes to be a good cheerleader. You're gorgeous, you're athletic, you really have what it takes. And I have connections. Tell me, what do you think about Stanford?"
I gulp nervously. Stanford was my dream school, but I didn't have the money, grades, or cheer team status to get in. "I uhh ... I really like it."
Tim purses his lips and nods knowingly. "It's a good school. What if I told you, I could get you in? Full ride. Right into the cheer squad?"
My mouth opens. That sounded ... amazing! But I couldn't buy it. I continue to stare at him wordlessly.
"Because you see, my coach, back in my football days, is now the dean of the athletic department. And, he owes me a favor. I could call in that favor, guarantee your full ride scholarship ... but, the thing is, you've got to earn it."
I bite my lip, and draw my finger along it in thought. My lip felt funny, almost numb and tingly. In fact, my whole body felt that way. I couldn't think clearly. "My head, I ... feel funny."
The three men chuckle as they approach me. "She's a lightweight! Have you ever drank before?" Steve asks.
I shake my head no. George looks around and says, "wow, you really are a good girl."
Tim, who was standing directly in front of me, takes my chin in his fingers. "So, how about it, V? Want to earn that scholarship?" I weakly nod yes, a tear dripping down my face, mixing with the water droplets from the shower. "What do I have to do?"
George turns on the adjacent shower head. "First things first, Vanessa. You're cold. Get out of those wet clothes and take a nice hot shower."
I nod gratefully as Steve passes me a towel. I hook it on and walk to the shower. The water is already nice and warm. I turn around, halfway expecting to have some privacy. Then I realize; they want to watch me shower.
"Are ... are you going to watch me?" I ask sheepishly. The three of them laugh and tom says, "Yeah. Yeah, we're going to watch you."
*okay, this is not so bad* I think to myself. *i just strip down for them, they watch me take a shower, and they let me go.* The scholarship crosses my mind. I sincerely doubt it exists, but what other choice do I have? There was only one way out of this.
The three men confer with each other. I saw them gesturing to me, whispering under their breath. I stand there, arms crossed on my chest, shivering. I think about the three men just watching me as I shower. Leering at my butt, probably my breasts too. I want to get this over with.
"So, should I, like, start or something?" They turn to me, and George breaks from the group, nods to the other coaches, and stands by my shower head. "Be our guest!" He retorts.
I turn to face the other two men and bite my lip. I trace my thumbs along the waistband of my skirt and start to pull down.
"Nope." George says. He pulls me under the warm water. "You're already wet, undress under the water."
I stumble slightly, a little woozy from the whiskey. I resume pulling down my skirt, careful to leave my booty shorts on. As it slides over my hips, I let it fall down, and bracing against the wall, I kick it off with one foot.
"Good," says Tim. "Now, turn around, place your hands on the wall, look back at us, and shake your ass."
I do as he says. Standing straight up, I turn around and gently shake it. George laughs and very suddenly blasts the cold water from the shower. I jump and squeal!
"AHHH! Cold! Why?" I shiver under the water as he warms it back up.
"Like Tim said, you've got to earn this." Steve says. "Arch your back. Bend at the waist. Stick your ass out and sway it back and forth. Put on a show! I know you do it in the mirror at home." He winks at me.
He wasn't wrong. I know I'm beautiful. Even though I'm popular, I'm very shy with the guys. I'm much more conservative than most girls my age ... old fashioned, even. I always believed in the dream of finding a soul mate, and getting married. Every time I danced seductively in my mirror, I imagined doing it for him ... not these creeps.
I do as he says. I close my eyes as I sway back and forth. I gyrate my hips around in a circle, spread my legs then dip down low until my butt touches my ankles, before coming back up again. The men stare wordlessly at me as I continue to dance.
I feel so different. My buzz from the whiskey makes everything so hazy. I turn back around, and slowly remove my cheerleading top. All I'm wearing is my sports bra and booty shorts. I keep dancing, swaying back and forth. I try to imagine how a stripper would move.
*Is that all I am to them? Just a stripper?*
They continue to stare at me, and I reach up and grab at my sports bra. Turning red, I pull it off over my head, and let it fall to the ground.
The guys' mouth hung open. Tim whispers, "holy shit!" Greg comes around and stares at me. "Best. Rack. I've seen."
I blush and look down. He wasn't wrong. I knew I had amazing breasts. I was fortunate enough to develop early, and I developed perfect, shapely, full c cup breasts that caught many an eye. My nipples are small and perky, and I feel a rush of pride in the midst of my shame.
I look back up. The three man are staring at me expectantly. I continue my seductive dance as I run my hands up and down my wet body. Swaying my hips back and forth, I take my breasts into my hands and play with my nipples. They are perky and hard, and I let out a soft gasp as I surprise myself with the sensation. I continue with my show, crouching low again, lowering my hands over my abs. My knees are spread apart, pointing to the sides of me. I see their eyes drift down to the imprint of my pussy. They chuckle and start talking amongst one another.bite my lip nervously as I watch them conferring with one another. Tim looks at me and motions me over.
"Come here." I get up and timidly take a step backwards, towards the wall. I yelp as George blasts some more icy water on me and I fall to my knees. I sputter and shiver as the water cascades over my face. George slowly turns it off, as I kneel there, arms crossed under my chest, I notice that I am displaying my breasts even more fully than before by cradling them in my arms.
George comes up behind me and lifts me up under my arms. As I stumble to my feet and regain balance, I feel him slip his hands further in front of me. I gasp as he aggressively squeezes my breasts and pulls me into him from behind.
"Ahh, no! What are you doing?!" I cry out as he squeezes them together roughly. He laughs as I clasp my hands in protest over his. As I pull at his hands, he quickly reaches up and slaps me in the face! Not hard, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. I stand there in dazed amazement, nursing my slightly red cheek as he continues his barrage on my breasts.
"Mmmmfph! Ow! You're hurting me!" I squirm under his rough embrace as George pinches my nipples, rolling them in between his fingers. Thankfully, Tim calls out to George in a deep voice.
"Bring her here, man." Tim motions us over as George walks us to him. As George releases me, I look back and glare at him coldly, before a shudder runs through my body. Tim, standing in front of me, begins tracing his hands over the outline of my naked torso. First, he starts at my neck. There is a mixture of force and gentleness as he caresses my neck, gently wrapping his thumbs around. I whimper as he squeezes gently. Tim was much more intimidating than George, and i look away, tears in my eyes. Just as quickly, he releases my neck and rubs his hands down my shoulders. His strong hands push down, massaging my them. My eyes drift shut slightly as I let out a shaky sigh.
He runs his fingers along my spine, massaging my back muscles as he continues his journey of exploration lower. Almost enraptured, I lean back and softly place a hand on his chest, as he traces the small of my back. I close my eyes and -
"Whoa- uhhhm ... what are you doing?" Tim slips his fingers down under my waistband, his index finger following the line of my crack. I stutter shakily as I feel it press in between my cheeks. "I'm ... err, I - not ... not, I just - oh!" He presses more firmly, intruding further between my ass crack. I tense up. Sensing my hesitation, his hand slides to the side, squeezing my bare ass cheek underneath my shorts. "Ha-oh ... ahhhhh ..." I moan as he massages my cheek.
He slips his hand out and takes a step back. I stand there for a moment, shaking. I've been humiliated and groped by these men, and as Tim and George joined Steve at the bench along the wall, I breathe a sigh of relief. *They're done with me. The got what they wanted.* I turn back to the shower and take the towel, clasping it around me to hide my naked chest. I bend down to pick up my sports bra.
"Where do you think you are going?" Steve calls out. I turn back around and stammer, "I-I ... I thought you were, like, done, with me." The three of them chuckle, and Tim steps up and pulls the towel off. I instinctively cover up. "Put your hands at your sides." Steve orders. I do it, shifting nervously from side to side.
Tim, Steve, and Greg sit on the bench as I stand before them. "You know how to make out, right?" Tim asks, taking the bottle of Jameson. I nod. He takes a swig and doesn't swallow, and motions me over to him.
I step in front of him, and he pulls me in aggressively for a kiss. I moan as our lips meet. His strong arms wrap around me as I straddle him, knees on the bench. He pushes some of the whiskey into my mouth, which i swallowed. I felt his tongue exploring my mouth, and I let out an involuntary moan. My breathing quickens as his hands move from my back to my ass. He squeezes me like before, this time with both hands. It surprisingly feels good.
"Ohhhhhh ..." my voice trails off as Tim leans me back and sucks on one of my nipples. As soon as his tongue dances over it, I yelp. "AHHH! Ooohhhh, mmmmm."
It feels good. Really good. I've never felt like this before. Tim moved to my other nipple and sent a similar jolt through me. I find myself caressing his shaved head as I bask in the moment.
Just as quickly as it began, Tim let my nipple pop out of his mouth and he passed me to Steve.
I stood in front of him, waiting for direction. Steve was physically fit, like Tim, but a little bit more on the lean side. He turns me around and lowers my still clothed ass onto his lap. He reaches around and pulls me into him by holding my breasts. He cups each with his hand and whispers in my ear, "dance for me."
I've never done a lap dance before, but I try my best. I dance like I did under the water. He obviously wants a little more contact, and he pulls me fully onto his lap. I straddle my legs around his, and bracing myself with my arms on the bench, I lean forward and grind on his lap.
I can hear him panting as I gyrate my hips on him. I also feel a growing bulge as I continue to dance. I let out a slight gasp and pause as I glance back to him. He smiles knowingly and smacks my ass, eliciting a yelp from me. I worry that these men wanted more than groping.
George stands in front of me, whiskey in hand. "Here. Another sip." He feeds me the bottle and I try to take a small swig, but he keeps tilting it towards me. I take a solid two gulps before George pulls back. "Can't have you getting sick on us! How do you feel?"
I look up groggily into his face. "I, uhmmm, I feel ... mmmmstrange ..."
George squats down in front of me and looks me in the eye. He is slightly older than the other two, and not in as good of shape. He grabs me by the hair and kisses me deeply, almost desperately. I feel his tongue swirling around my mouth.
In the meantime, I'm still grinding on Steve. I can feel his groping hands pulling at my breasts as his bulge gets harder. I feel so violated.
George pulls back, and I feel Steve gently push me off of him to my knees. As George stands up, I can see a bulge in his pants as well.
"Tell me Vanessa," he asks. Have you ever seen a dick before?" My eyes close as I fully realize the direction the night was headed. Reluctantly, I nod. "Probably a boys penis, am I right?" I nod again. "So, what, how big do you think it was? Show me with your hands."
I think back to my one and only sexual experience. I knew from stories that he was smaller than average. I placed my hands about 3, maybe 4 inches apart and displayed my measurement to him.
"So, did you fuck him?" Groggily, I nod my head, then frown and shake it. "I uhhmm ... he entered me, and he uhmmm, he ..."
"He what? Say it." George became more stern.
"I, uh, I don't know how to put ..."
"Fucking say it!" He says forcefully, yanking on my hair a bit as I kneel in front of him.
"AHH!" I cry out, a tear dripping down my face. "Well?" He asks. I look up at him, defeated. My mouth hangs open, as I work up the courage to say the words.
"He popped my ... cherry."
"Oh, he did, did he? With what?"
"He popped my cherry with his dick." My lip quivers in embarrassment as I look down.
"How long did he last?"
"Uhmm, not long. He didn't even fully enter me -"
"That's not what I asked." George says, clicking his tongue in disappointment.
"Fifteen, maybe twenty seconds?"
Greg pulls back a bit and laughs. "That's it? And you haven't had anyone else?"
I lower my eyes further and shake my head back and forth. George shrugs and looks back at the other guys. "Virginal enough for me."
"So ... did you suck him off?" George asks, pulling at my hair enough for my to lift my eyes.
"Umm, what?"
"Blowjob. Did you give him a blowjob?"
I pause and answer. "Well, no ... not him."
George chuckles and looks at me inquiringly, tugging at my hair as if expecting an explanation.
"I mean, I've practiced before. You know, on, uhh, fruit and stuff. Carrots, uhmmm, my toothbrush ..." my voice trails off as I see George holding back laughter. He looks at the other guys, who were well behind my view, and they all chuckled.
"What did I tell you?" George reports. "Pent up sexual tension." With that, George begins to pull on his zipper. I stare wordlessly, in a state of shock and resignation, as he pulls his pants down and his dick springs free. Wide eyed, I stare at this grown man's dick swinging in front of my face. It wasn't much longer than my first partner's dick. In fact, it was pretty comparable. He had maybe an inch longer, perhaps just shy of five inches. It looked different. There was curly pubic hair, and a number of veins running up and down it. The head was a purple hue, and a drop of clear fluid was collecting at the tip.
"Well, what do you think?" George swings his member back and forth close to my face. A drop of the fluid swings off and lands on my shoulder.
I look up at him quizzically. He strokes his throbbing dick once, squeezing out some more fluid and smearing it on my forehead. I could smell his salty, masculine scent.
"What are you going to do right now?" Even in the whiskey induced fog, I know his game. And I have to play along. I resign to my fate, as I take my finger, swipe off some of the fluid on his cock, and taste it with my tongue.
"I'm going to suck your hard cock."
A gleeful cheer comes from the two behind me. "There she is!" Exclaims Tim, as him and Steve exchange a high five.
George takes the base of his dick and guides it to my lips. I close my eyes tightly as my mouth makes contact with the tip. I slowly slide forward as his head fully parts my lips. He leans back his head and moans.
It tastes salty. I tilt my head back and pull backwards, running my tongue on the underside of his dick. I feel a shudder as it runs along the edge of the head.
*Okay, the head is the most sensitive. I'll focus on that.*
I twirl my tongue around him, while slightly bobbing my head. I thought of how sexy I looked when I blew a banana in the mirror. I run my tongue between his foreskin, and tease the head all around its edge. He jumps and moans with pleasure.
*He likes that. Keep doing that.*
I continue my pace as I feel his dick swell in my mouth. George begins to slightly thrust forward, and I could feel him going deeper in my mouth.
"Mmmmmph ... mmmmm ... mmmmmphhh." I moan, with a mouthful of dick. I feel so violated, so vulnerable ... but, a part of me, well, I can't say I enjoy this, but ... I'm intrigued. I place my hands gently on his thighs as he begins to thrust forward with a rhythm. I feel his shaft sliding in my mouth as the ridges of his head rubs toward the back. I frown a bit and pull my head off of him a little bit, yet he responds by forcefully pulling my head deeper!
"Wheeehh! - *cough* " my throat makes a gagging sound as his head presses firmly against the back of my throat. I make a wretching sound as I cough and sputter, thick spit shooting out of the side of my mouth. I angle my forehead against his body to try to get relief, but he begins to thrust into me!
"Gluh - gluh - gluh - gluh" my throat makes a sound each time he pulls back, and he cuts it off every time he pushes forward. Tears are running down my face from the intensity of a dick in my throat. I slap his thighs desperately, trying to get him to stop. He finally relents, allowing me to fall back to the bench. I gasp for air and wipe my face, as I look at him, wide eyed, with an expression of betrayal. I cough and sputter a few times, a thick line of spit coming from my nose.
"Now jack it off." George states, placing his legs on either side of me. I reach up with one hand and hesitantly grab his dick, my own spit draping around my forearm. I'm still panting for breath, as he continues to advance closer to my face while my hand strokes him. I cringe as he thrusts, trying to increase my rhythm, and his sloppy dick pushes out through my fist and pokes my face. "Suck it again." George growls. Reluctantly, I slide my lips over his head once more, this time keeping my hand on his shaft. He continues to pump harder into me, but this time, I keep him from going too deep. Thankfully, he seems satisfied with my hand in front of my mouth, stroking him completely.
George then removes himself from my mouth, stepping back and grinning as he grasps his wet dick. I wipe my chin as Steve speaks up.
"Alright, my turn" calls out Steve, who was still seated on the bench, now next to me. I look over and gasp. He has removed all of his clothing, and was reclined on the bench. Resting against his fit abs was a long and straight dick, pulsing and twitching every second. I stare at it in amazement. Steve smiles and says "you like it?"
The truth was, I kind of did. He was longer than George, maybe above 6 inches. But it was more than that. His dick was very ... attractive. It appeared to be well trimmed, and it was very sleek and smooth. He had nice, shapely balls draping down beneath his appealing member. He motions me over, and I stand up - only to freeze in my tracks.
Tim was also naked. His muscles rippled as he moved around. He watched my reaction as I stared, wide eyed with my mouth open. Between his legs, was an incredibly large penis. Maybe 9 inches in length, and thick. Very thick! It curved to the left a bit, and bounced with every pulse. It wasn't a pretty cock; not like Steve's, but it was definitely intimidating. He watched me, like a tiger knowingly watching its prey.
"Hey, Vanessa." Steve pulls me forward. Guiding me in front of him, he scoots forward and starts to suck on my breasts. "Ohhh ... ahhh." I moan as he pops one nipple out and sucks on the other. He seems gentle, much more than George. Even more so than Tim. Tim felt so strong, yet there was a gentlemanly, if not manipulative, way that Steve had to his movements.
I feel his hands run down my sides as he hooks onto my waistband and tugs at my shorts. I whimper with fear and pull away, but Steven is insistent. He stands up and forcefully yanks them down, just to my mid thigh level. He steps back as each guy cranes his neck to look at my exposed bald pussy. Steven lets out a low whistle, and chuckles in excitement while shaking his head in disbelief.
"What?" I ask, turning red in the face. I look down and gasp in surprise: strands of clear, thick pussy juice are dripping from my vagina, all the way down to my shorts. I reach down and scoop some out, and investigate the fluid by rubbing it in my fingers. It's slippery to the touch.
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"Now ... THAT is the wettest pussy I've ever seen." Steve watches as I play with the fluid that is now draping down my fingers with embarrassed wonder.
"Taste it." I look at him in disbelief. He continues to watch me, and I slowly slide my finger in my mouth, wide eyed and embarrassed. I taste ... strange. Not like George's dick. It's a musky, yet sweet taste.
Steve leans forward, and without much warning, swipes a finger through my pussy lips. I jump and let out a dismayed yelp. He removes his finger nonchalantly and tastes my juices for himself. I hold back tears as he smiles. "Tastes great," he states, as he leans forward and reaches out to me again. I wince as his hand slides between my legs, his middle finger gently parting my pussy lips. I softly grasp at his wrist, but lack the courage to pull him away. Here I was, alone with three older men, having my innocence stolen from me. My shorts remain on my hips, allowing me to only spread them slightly apart as he continues to slide his finger along my pussy.
"You know," Steve says. "I've had my eyes on you for a while." I grimace and whimper as I feel his finger prod a little deeper between the pulsing lips of my pussy. "You're the prize of the school. Good thing we got to you first. You know, I bet you wandered into the locker room looking for a man."
"No ... I ..." I breathe in sharply as I feel his finger slide in slowly into my pussy. I tighten my grip on his arm.
"I bet you were even playing with yourself while you were eavesdropping on us, weren't you?" I gasp as I feel his thumb gently press and rub my clitoris.
"No! I - unnnghh!" I let out a guttural and unlady-like grunt and bear down as his stimulating thumb sends shudders through my body.
"Yeah you were. Admit it. You came in here looking for some dick." I push his arm back and pull my hips backward. "No! I didn't -"
In response, he reaches around and clasps my ass tightly, his fingers reaching into my crack and clutching me closely. His other hand is still resting against my pussy, my juices dropping down to his elbow and onto my partially removed shorts.
"If you don't agree with me, I'll just have to have George come back here and take over for me." I glance sideways at George with disdain. He wickedly imitates his clamped fist pushing up and forcing through the fingers of his other clenched hand, laughing as my eyes widened.
I quickly look back and Steve and shake my head. "Well then?"I feel his index finger join his middle, waiting at the entrance to my pussy.
"I ... came in here, looking for dick."
"Oh," he retorts. "Did you find some?"
"Yes." I shudder as his fingers wiggle and my entrance. "Whose?"
"Yours. And his. And ... his." I gulp as I stare once more at Tim's big member.
"That's right, Vanessa. So, do you like having your pussy fingered?" I softly nod my head. "Tell me what you like about it." He slides back into me, this time with two fingers. I gasp and squeeze his wrist once more, this time inviting him in.
"It ... mmmmm ... it feels good."
"Tell me more detail." Steve states in a warning tone.
"I like it ... I like it when you rub my ... clit." Steve resumes rubbing it with his thumb as I release his arm and clutch desperately to his shoulders. He begins to curl his fingers deep inside of me - and I lean further forward, my hands on the wall as I start moaning uncontrollably.
"Mmmmm! Ohhhhhh, oh, uhh, uuuuuhgnn!" Steve's pace quickens as he continues fingering me. "You like that?"
"Yes! Yes, oooh, it feels good."
"Should I stop?" Steve asks mockingly.
I start bucking my hips with his rhythm. I feel ashamed, but the unexperienced pleasures washing through my body are irresistible. I spread my knees wider, feeling my booty shorts around my thighs pull tightly against me. My legs begin to shake and quiver. My head lulls back and forth as my eyes flutter.
"Are you going to come for me, Vanessa?" I am almost horizontally leaning on Steve's shoulder, my breasts brushing his back to the rhythm of his arm. He reaches around with his free hand and pulls my waist against him. He continues to press on a sweet spot inside of me, previously unreached. My feet slide out further behind me, and I am unable to stop moaning.
Steve increases his pace to a furious rhythm. I can hear his fingers sloshing in my pussy as an indescribable feeling edges closer to me. "Ugh! Uhhhh ... Eh!! Mmmm! Ahhhh!" I feel wave after wave of what felt like the rush of a thousand shivers crash through me. My hands slide down the wall and I desperately grasp at the edges of the bench as Steve's fingers intuitively thrust to the throes of my very first orgasm!
"OOOOOH! MMMMPH! Huh ... huuuhhhh ... mmmm ..." I relax my tense body and slump down as Steve guides me past the bench and onto the floor. He gets up, bends over and wipes his wet hand on my backside.
"Get up. Come here. Lose the shorts and lie down."
Still panting heavily, I roll gingerly onto my back. Steve is standing over me, his impressive dick jutting straight out from his body. He reaches down his hand and grabs mine, pulling me up to my feet. I stagger unsteadily, my knees still weak and quivering.Lie down. I'm going to fuck you now." I blink with a sense of bewilderment. This couldn't be happening!
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I nervously rub my arm and bite my lip. I don't know what to do! I'm scared, intimidated by these older men taking advantage of me. But yet, i feel this yearning desire in me. Whenever I look at Steve's dick, I feel a strange ache inside of me that I can't quite describe. Slowly, I lower my shorts past my knees, as they noisily slap on the ground. I stand before these men, completely naked.
"Turn around; slowly. Show off for us." I oblige the request, and I slowly turn around and bend over, at the waist, with my back arched. I look to my right: George stands at the entrance to the showers, slowly stroking his dick. To my left, I see Tim. His dick is now fully erect, laying on his chest. It goes well past his belly button.
I turn back to Steve. He motions me over and guides me to lay on my back. I lay down, my head closer to Tim's side of the bench, though I can't see him. Steven straddles the bench and positions himself between my legs.
I take in a deep breath. I shudder when I feel his smooth head slide up and down my sensitive, throbbing pussy. "Ooooooohhh ..." I moan as unique and intense pleasures wash over me. he brushes his dick like a paint brush, up and down my slit. It's almost too much sensation so soon after an orgasm ... my first one at that. Almost.
"Mmmmmmmm - OHH!" I gasp as I feel the head slide in. It doesn't hurt ... but an intense shiver crawls up my spine. Steve holds up my legs like a 'V' and slowly but steadily advances his shaft into me.
"Haaah ... aaaaAAAaah ... OOOH, MY GO- MMMMMPH!" I cry out as he slowly slides into me, inch by inch. The wetness of my pussy allows him to enter with ease, but the fullness! The tightness!
I grunt loudly as I feel his body press against mine, his dick reaching the untouched places in my pussy. I grit my teeth as he holds it there, then begins to gently thrust into me.
"GRRRRAHH! OH! AHHH! Oh ... oh ..." I feel more used to his dick, as his rate increases. "Huh ... mmmm ... mmm-OH! ... mmm, yeah, ugh, mmm, mmmhmmm..." I wrap my legs around Steve as he continues thrusting. I ... think I like this. No, I really like this ... but ... this is so wrong!
"WOOOAHH-AH-AH-AH!" Steve rubs his fingers on my clitoris, and all thoughts of regret leave my foggy mind. "Oh, yeah! This feels, OH, this is ... GAAAAAHHHHH!"
Steve increases his rhythm, and I can hear the slapping sounds of our bodies colliding. I feel his balls smacking against my asshole, as he leans back and pumps into me, finger on my clit.
"SHIIIIIIT! SOMETHINGS -AHHHH!" I feel a rush deep within me as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me once more. My mouth is wide open - but I can't breathe. I can't scream. My whole body tenses up as Steve grunts and pumps my pussy with his dick. As I continue to convulse, Steve starts grunting and moaning, and he thrusts mightily into me, scooting me forward on the bench each time.
As my second orgasm subsides, I realize that Steve is about to cum inside me. "Wait! No no no no NOOOOO!" It's too late. I prop myself up with my elbows and try to swing my leg over. I end up with my legs together on one side as he blows his load inside of my pussy. Tim comes from behind me and holds me down.
"Oh, no ... you came in my pussy!" I whine as Steve, panting and spent, continues to thrust his dick into me. He flips my legs back to the 'V' position and slowly slides it in and out of me. Tim is holding my shoulders, and he pushes down to make me flat on my back again.
Tim advances on the bench, and as I stare up on the ceiling, I see his massive cock fill my field of view. He keeps going, until his balls are directly over my mouth. His cock leaves a streak of precum from my neck to my chest.
"Here's what you're going to do. Your going to lick my balls, and press together your titties so I can fuck them. Repeat it."
I feel the impressive weight of his dick lying on my chest. Weakly, I mumble, "I'm going to lick your balls ... and press together my, uhm, breasts." I still feel Steve slowly humping me.
"Your what?"
"My ... my titties."
"And why are you going to do that?"
I place my palms on either side of my breasts and hold his massive member in between with my fingertips. I feel some reluctance and inhibition give way as I loudly say, "So you can fuck my perfect, sexy, 18 year old titties!" With that, I stick my tongue out and let it graze Tim's balls as he pumps his dick in between my breasts.
Steve, finally spent, slides out and sits back on the bench. Tim reaches down and scoops my wetness, along with cum, into his hand, and he spreads it on my chest. Soon after, i feel another dick at my pussy entrance. George has taken Steve's place.
George didn't have what Steve had. His dick was smaller, his thrusts were less sensual, and he paid no mind to pleasuring me. As Tim continues to slide is long cock in between my breasts, George speaks up. "What am I doing, Vanessa?"
I stop licking Tim's balls for a moment and say "Having sex with me."
George laughs and spanks me. "Dirtier."
"You're ... fucking me."
"Yeah? I'm fucking you where?" He slaps my ass once more.
"You're fucking my pussy!"
"Mmmhmmm, yes I am. What else can you call it?"
I rack my brain for any dirty words I can remember. "My ... snatch. You're fucking my snatch."
"Yeah, good. What else you got, bitch?"
I inhale deeply, and lick Tim's bouncing balls. "My, cunt. No ... no your cunt. My cunt ... it's yours." I begin to understand what George was looking for. He's a true chauvinist. The way he pounded my face, the way he fucks, the way he talks to me. I have to cater to that, maybe make him finish sooner. I already resign myself to the fact that he will probably cum in me too.
"Pound that cunt. Pound it hard!" I pant as he increases his pace, all the while with Tim in between my breasts. "Take it! Make it yours! Make it ... your hole. Your fuckhole!"
"Yeah!" George begins to thrust in me faster. It feels intense, but not enough to keep me from focusing. I tilt my head out from underneath Tim and look at him. "You like these titties? Huh? You like fucking my perfect little body? Yeah?"
With a final push, George cries out and pulls out of me, to my surprise. He jacks himself off for a moment before blowing his load on my pussy. I feel the warm spurts drape across my pussy lips, as it oozes down past my lips and into my asscheeks.
"Look at our girl!" Exclaims Tim. "She's turning into a freak! Vanessa, get up."
I pause for a moment. George and Steven have already fucked me. Tim was obviously expecting something as well. But he was too big!
I sit up. "Wait, now, let me, uhm, give you a handjob?" I turn around and scoot backwards, away from Tim. "Look, it's just not possible, right? You can't really expect to fit that ... cock ... inside of me. C-can you?"
He continues to follow me. My eyes widen. "No, no, no, please don't ... I don't think I could handle you ... haven't I done enough?" He stand up fully, his dick swinging freely. "You're done when we say you're done."
My lip quivers as I hold back tears. I slide to the edge of the bench, fear in my eyes. Tim grabs a towel, reaches out, and wipes off the cum from my pussy. Looking at it, he then smears the juices on my face. I gasp and look at him incredulously.
That upset me. I lash out and try to kick him. He just laughs and grabs my ankles. The other men grab my arms as I squirmed, and in unison, they quickly flip me over.
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"Oof!" I whimper as I land on the hard bench. George stays at my head and keeps me low to the surface. Tim brings my knees together and up underneath me. He pushes down on my upper back, so my ass is jutting out straight in the air. I feel so exposed and open.
"Well, look at that!" Tim exclaims. I try to turn around and see what he was doing, but I couldn't. I hear him slowly spit and feel a drop of saliva running down my ass.
I start to whimper. Tim straddles the bench and leans forward. He uses his two hands to spread my asscheeks some more. I yelp loudly when I feel his tongue lick squarely on my asshole!
"AHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I squirm against the men holding me, but I can't break free. I feel his tongue lick and prod at my virgin asshole. "Oh, no, no no no please stop ..." I cry out, embarrassed. He responds with another lick. I jump slightly. "Ohhhhhhh, please stop." He licks again. I twitch in response.
Tim continues this for several minutes. I started out whimpering, but as time went on, that whimpering turned into moaning. I started to enjoy the unique sensations.
*This feels so ... wrong. But, it does feel kind of good. Mmmmmmm*
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, yeah." I freeze for a moment as I realize that just came out of my mouth. I blush with embarrassment as I hide my face in the bench. "No, no, noooo ..." my voice trails off into silent sobs.
"Looks like she like this!" states Tim. "Tell us, do you like that?" I shake my head, ashamed. He slaps my ass hard and curtly says, "Don't lie."
I nod my head sheepishly. "Yes. Yes, I like it when you ... uhm, lick my asshole. It ... it feels nice."
Tim nods. "I think she's ready." I cringe at what that could mean. I know he wouldn't try to put it there ... right?
I shudder when I feel the weight of his cock at my entrance. To my momentary relief, he was at my pussy. For a second I thought he was going to try to put it in my ass-
"WHOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Any feelings of relief disappear as he presses his dick into me. I reach down and feel his shaft, and I trace the outline of my stretched pussy. He didn't get much more than the head in!
"Whooo ... whoooo ... whooo" I breathe through pursed lips. "It's so, it's so big - OOOOOOHHHH!" I cry out as he rams more into me. He positions himself a little higher, planting a leg down on the bench as he leans in further.
"OH GOD! YOU'RE DICK IS SO FUCKING HUGE! I CANT! I CANT TAKE ANY MORE! I-"
*GASP!*
I let out a deep, throaty gasp as he slides a finger into my asshole. George lets go of me and I raise my head, now on all fours. I can't breathe. I can't move. My mouth hangs open, and my eyes are squinted shut.
*GASP!*
Tim is fucking my pussy with a regular rhythm. I still can't bring myself to breathe, the sensations are too much! I manage to lift up a hand from the bench and slam it back down. Again. And again.
*GASP!*
"OOO - OOHH- ... AGGHHHH!" I manage to croak out as Tim stretches my pussy and finger fucks my ass. Finding my voice again, I start to make a long and constant wail. His dick was hurting me. His finger overwhelmed me. I look and see Steve and George to the left of me, both jacking off to the sight.
Tims barrage quickens, and I collapse fully onto the bench. Tim cries out and removes his dick from my pussy, as well as his finger. I could hear him jacking off onto me, and after a moment I felt load after load spurt over me, from my ass to my hair, and everywhere in between.
My pussy throbbed from the beating. I reach for the bottle of whiskey, and take a long swig. I cough a bit, but soon feel a heavy haze drift over me. Everything became blurry, and I just couldn't focus. I just laid there.
"Look at that!" George exclaims. "She wants more!"
The guys weren't done with me. As I lay down on the bench, Steve comes behind me and lets my legs fall to the floor. I just lie there, limp. I hear him spit and then feel a throbbing penis pressing against my asshole. With the whiskey and my exhaustion, I can't resist. I cringe at the discomfort as he slides his dick into me, inch by inch.
"Mmmmfph! Oooohhhhh ... my ass ... ohhhhh ..." I weakly cry out. I lay there, in a fog, as he fucks my hole, for, how long? Minutes? I reach back and grasp at his dick. He's only pushed in half of it?!
Steve props himself up over me. His cock, still in my ass, is pointing down. He reaches around my hips, locks his arms, and pulls upwards. I feel my hips lift off the bench as he sinks his dick fully into me!
"OH GOD, my ass!" He continues to lift me up until he is holding my full weight. I lean back against him and balance against the wall. Tim steps in front and watches, as I am fully exposed to him. With his fingers kept together like a salute, he tabs my pussy sloppily back and forth, eliciting screams from my lips.
Steve then sits down and keeps his cock in my asshole. He lays back as I sprawl against him, unable to get up. I watch as my tits bounce back and forth as he pounds my poor hole. I cry out again as I feel my pussy get invaded. Tim enters between my legs once more and I cry out loudly as he stretches me. I feel so full!
Everything is going so hazy ... I think I had too much to drink. Or maybe not enough. I can hear my screams, but they almost don't register as mine. I look down. I see my pussy being pummeled, and I feel my asshole being stretched. But it doesn't hurt as much.
My hand starts massaging my clitoris. "Ohhhhh ... oooooh ... ahhhhhh... oooooooooooohhhh!"
My moans sound like - moans of pleasure? My other hand goes to my left nipple. I play with it. I love the tingling feeling it gives me. Steve thrusts into me. I feel so ... good? No, good is definitely not the right word. But ... I feel something. Something intense.
Tim continues to fuck my pussy as I rub my clit. "Ohhhhhh, yeah. Mmmmmm ... mmmhhhmmmm. Oh! Ooohh! OOOF!" I feel so used, but, I don't want it to stop. I start grinding my hips up and down, feeling the movement of the cocks deep inside me.
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George stands at my head and pulls my hair. I have just enough time to prepare as he slides his dick into my throat, pressing against me and thrusting.
"Gluh-gluh-gluh-gluh." I continue to masturbate as I feel George tense up. He presses into me as I choke on his load. Cum drips out of the side of my mouth as he finishes in me.
I feel a wave of sensation forming deep within me. I moan more frequently as the feelings grow stronger.
"MMMM! MMMMHHMMMM! I'm goin' to ... cum soon, I ..." my voice trails off as I continue to rub my clit. Tim cries out and pulls out of me, blowing his load on my stomach and chest. He then slides two, maybe three fingers into my pussy. Pushing on my pelvis, he thrashes them up and down in my pussy.
"IM ... ITS HAPPENING, OH FUCK! OOOOHHH, FUCK! AHHHHHHHHHH!!" An intense, indescribable wave of sensation washed over me. Pussy juice gushes out of me and onto the bench. I shake violently as my convulsive orgasm wracks my whole body. I could feel Steve blow his load in my ass as he joins me in the throes of orgasm.
Then I black out.
***
I wake up. The very first thing I notice is my splitting headache. "Owwww." I hold my head in my hands and squint my eyes open. Something had dried over my left eyelid and kept it shut. I rub my right eye and groggily look around.
"What, where ... was that real?" I notice that I am still in the men's locker room. I sit up fully and wince at the soreness of my ass.
Shakily, I stand to my feet. "Hello?" There's no answer. I stumble to the nearest mirror and look at myself. I was fully naked, and I had dried cum everywhere. My hair was matted, and a thick glob had dried over my left eye. I turn on the sink and wash my face.
I step back and examine myself more fully. Cum had dried on my breasts, my stomach, my back, and my ass. I turn around and notice distinct hand marks where I was spanked. I lean forward and spread my cheeks. My asshole looks stretched and loose. I whimper and delicately lift my leg onto the sink to examine my pussy. It is red and puffy, and feels stretched out. I can see into both holes.
I return to the locker room. All signs of the men's presence was gone ... save a camcorder on a tripod in the center of the room. I didn't remember that there!
There is a note attached. It reads:
Vanessa,
We got the whole night on tape. G set it up when he locked the door. I'm sending in your 'highlight footage' to the dean at Stanford. Trust me, he's already eager to provide you a full ride ... with a few ... conditions. He'll be in contact with you.
As for us, this never happened. The tape stays with me; if you rat us out, we'll leak it. I did leave some pictures on there for you to see. We had some more fun when you were out.
You were a phenomenal fuck!
T
I turn on the camcorder and scroll through the history. There's a few images. The first one is a picture of the whisky bottle neck stuck in my pussy. It appears that they had poured the rest on my body.
I scroll next. Steve was pumping his cock between my ass cheeks, smearing cum in my crack. I'm lying there, slumped across the bench.
I feel a sense of disgust at the next picture. George is sitting on the bench, and he had positioned me upside down so that my legs were draped on his shoulders. Only my shoulders were on the ground, and my arms were sprawled to my side as my face appears contorted in pain. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, and he had worked in all five of his other fingers into my pussy, with the base of the thumb slightly visible. I shakily reach down and ease four of my own fingers into me. I wonder if I will ever be as tight as I was before last night.
I reach back and tenderly caress my ass at the sight of the last one. Somehow, Tim managed to shove his dick into my asshole! The entirety of his shaft is buried in me as he pulls my arms backwards in doggystyle. I appear to be awake, as I am standing on my own, but I can't remember it at all.
I shut the camcorder off and look for my clothes ... they're all gone. I'm too tired to be upset. I look around and find an large, old, dusty jersey. I slip it on, and the neck almost slips over my shoulders. I drape it around me and head for the door. It is unlocked. I peek out into the hallway. No one seemed to be around. The first rays of morning light were shining down. I walk out, heading for my car.
I smile as I feel a little cum leak out of me and drip on the floor. "College, here I come!"
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rooksamoris · 2 days
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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.
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💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.
💞 — jamil viper x reader
💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)
💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.
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Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.
And I walk through countries, a vagabond.
Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless. 
All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon). 
You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.
“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”
Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.
He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.
Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?
Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.
He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.
Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).
He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.
You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”
“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”
You swallowed and nodded.
The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.
Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with. 
Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.
He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.” 
“The tea is great.”
“Thanks.”
There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.
You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.
Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”
That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.
“Jamil…” you trailed off.
He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.
Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.
You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.
Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.
Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.
He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.
Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.
One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan. 
He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his. 
Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.
He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.
“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,” 
Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now. 
He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.
“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.
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kayann9 · 3 days
Text
The Darkest Night
Thank you again to everyone :) This is pure fluff. I always believed that Gale and Tav definitely know they have some feelings for each other before the 'Big Confession' and this is one of those moments. I have a sort of second part to this too.
Set just before Shadow Curse Lands.
Pairing: Gale X F! Tav (Serena)
Words: 1047
Rating: T (a lot of fluff)
The shadows around them seemed to grow heavier than anyone would have thought possible and they hadn’t even arrived there yet. Serena hated the dark. She’d never told anyone that. Her tent was always adorned with a flickering light, just enough to offer her some warmth against the unforgiving gloom. She had long since accepted that darkness was part of her life, part of what she needed, but each time the sun set and the midnight darkness shrouded her like the embrace of Shar, she could not help but feel lost and afraid.
She hid it well.
Always walking straight; always talking; always stepping ahead of the others, but each time a wayward patch of night caught her eye, a shiver erupted up her spine and the helplessness she’d known as a youngster flooded back into thoughts.
The Shadowcursed Lands loomed ahead, and this pervasive sense of dread loomed right along with it.
When they set up camp, it took all of her effort not to listen to her limbs urging her back up towards the Mountain Pass and the glowing vista they were leaving behind. No more lush greenery and bright flowers; no more sunsets and sunrises with the multi-faceted colours of a glowing sky. Serena had never wanted to go to a place less than the next step of their journey.
She rubbed her hands over her face before wandering over to her favourite companion’s tent hoping for some kind of distraction from her impending worry.
“What’re you doing?”
Gale smiled at her. He knew that tone well. The same tone she’d used before they’d traversed the Underdark. Her sing-song curiosity of the things he did made his soul smile.
“Perhaps you should come and find out.” He laughed and made room for her on his bedroll. She’d been in here a few times; enough times for him to make sure it was always kept orderly just in case she visited. Over the last couple of months, he’d tried convincing himself that he was making a fool of himself, but now he was facing down eternity, he could not bring himself to care as much. Instead, he soaked up her attention like the roots of a starving flower desperate to soak up moisture from the rain. 
One evening, not long after the fated visit from Elminster, she’d fallen asleep in there as they’d sat and read together. Ever since, he’d spent nights hoping it would happen again.
As she seemingly liked doing, she perched next to him, her chin resting on his shoulder and her eyes looking at the book he held. The kind of physical touch that was typical of lovers. The kind he’d not had in so long. It was difficult not to indulge in and now that he’d made peace with his destructive condition, it seemed silly not to indulge in it for who knew how long he would have left to enjoy it.
Selfish, maybe? Needed, certainly.
Gale had long since concluded that whatever her story was, she needed it as much as he did.
“This is like another language.” He could hear the squint on her face.
“Because it is another language. I found it in the temple. It is Githyanki. I think I have worked out a few of the key terms such as Queen but I am still trying to work out the narrative.”
“Why not just ask Lae’zel?”
Gale turned, his face only an inch from hers as she looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Well, if I were to simply ask Lae’zel, then she would be able to translate this simple passage for me, but I would not have learnt how to translate the myriads of passages encapsulated in those crypts. Imagine the knowledge trapped in these texts. If I can work out the terminology in this one, then I can do it for the others. Of course, the plan is Lae’zel can check that I am correct while we have her here.”
Serena scrunched up her nose and chuckled. “I like watching you learn. Can I stay whilst you uncover the great mysteries of the Githyanki?”
“Of course, you can. You needn’t ever ask permission sit with me.”
Serena did not need a second invitation, especially with the gravity of what hid on the horizon for them. Instead, made herself comfortable leaning against him taking in his warmth like he was the sunshine she was leaving behind.
How she loved watching him as he read and studied; he was so far removed from the people she usually encountered that she had been almost captivated with him from their first meeting. His stories and how he told them with his whole body, his graceful manners misaligned with occasional clumsiness, his over-confidence and uncertainty co-existing oddly together; all of it made her feel lighter. Dare she say, happy? He was her own little slice of daylight amongst an oncoming storm.
“Thunder or perhaps clouds?” The low hum of his voice broke through her daydream.
His brow creased as he grabbed the quill and scribbled on a stray piece of parchment.
She closed her eyes at the scratching on the paper and curled up next to him, tucking her feet underneath her. She stifled a yawn as she leaned into the softness of his side, breathing in the scent of the autumncrocus he’d spent the day collecting. His shirt was soft and without a second thought, she wrapped an arm around his middle before letting her drowsiness claim her.
Gale stilled at the movement but after one look at her peaceful face, the face he’d decided he definitely loved, he relaxed and let his arm drape around her in the same way, his fingers stroking her hair.
“You are more captivating than any language that could ever be spoken.” He whispered into the air, part of him hoping she was asleep but an ever-growing part of him wishing she had heard. “Whatever is causing you the worry you feel, I will make sure I do my best to shield you from it.” He pressed his lips gently to the top of her head.
Carefully, he put the text down, trying his best not to wake her and instead decided to study the subject he was most fascinated by: Serena Tavarnos.
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xhdream · 24 hours
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i need to loose my mind over ONE SPECIFIC clip of jiseok because wild cherry (which was fucking amazing btw) made me simp even more for him (is that even possible ?)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4nLgNjuY0I/?igsh=djZveG83NXY4eXM1
like why is this so attractive for no reason at all ??? who gave him the right to look like this ??? and just like that rockstar!jiseok pops into my mind 😔 (wanted to share my misery with you sweetie <3)
link
a/n: tysm for reading and loving wild cherry aaah ily <33 HE IS INSANELY HANDSOME why did i had to ult him along with joo this is torture 😞 (you know you’re always welcome to share your misery love~)
rockstar!jiseok who’s your fuck buddy cause he’s not the type to do relationships. he’s straight forward with you, telling you that he just fools around with no strings attached bc his career is more important, and you say you have no problem with that - how would you miss on some fun with such a hot rockstar that every single girl wishes she could be desired by? who sings with eyes searching for yours in the crowd and winks at you every time he sees your hands going over your boobs as you dance to his songs; who drags you backstage and fucks you using all the adrenaline rush the concert has created in him. he degrades you for your slutty attitude and the shameless way you keep running back to him, and you cherish every second of it. you end up continuing the night at a hotel every single time cause you can’t leave each other. it’s way too addictive.
rockstar!jiseok loves taking you to after parties with him. he shows you off as his hands are roaming all over your body just an hour after he made you cry from too much orgasms. his ego enjoys the way everyone stares at both of you with jealous eyes. sex with him always brings you tears cause he has a hard time stopping. since he doesn’t know when exactly will be the next time he will get to see you, he wants to make the most of it which means he makes you cum as many times as possible…
sometimes when he takes you as his date to parties and such you think that maybe his feelings are turning more serious, but you can never be sure unless you ask, and you don’t want to be the first to bring it up, especially when you think you know what the answer would be. “fuck… best pussy ever… you were made for me, baby,” he says, drunk on the pleasure he finds in your body, and your heart skips a beat; you feel a slight sense of hope. “am i your favourite?” you ask, and he smiles, smearing your lipstick with his thumb. “of course, baby,” he whispers, but somehow the answer doesn’t seem to satisfy you as you expected it to…
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itty-bitty-sunshine · 1 month
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Refri and the little alien Grub belong to @clovergreensocks!
You see, this Eclipse of mine can change voices, and Refri got a music box, so i thought man, they probably could make nice duets together!
The song of choice was to get back at Grub for a dress up prank, though
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joycrispy · 8 months
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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mondaymelon · 1 month
Text
₊⊹ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ♡. | genshin!various x gn!reader
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「 "𝐚𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐩…"」
— in which you kiss him ... accidentally, and indirectly.
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𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — kazuha, gaming, FREMINET, THOMA, KAVEH, chongyun, gorou
— "Ah, wrong cup."
It's a warm morning, yet the shade of the light canopy of trees provides ample comfort. At your words, however, the amicable conversation halts. Gingerly, you place his cup back on its saucer, uttering a quiet apology. "Sorry, sorry..."
Ugh, a quiet moment with someone you'd been pining after for ages, and you likely just sabotaged any chance you had. Making someone uncomfortable is surely not a way to have someone fall head over heels for you. You cautiously glanced upwards, catching the sight of... something you didn't expect...!?
He hid in his hand, raised and flush against his face. It was rather insufficient in the whole "hiding" department, however, for you could still clearly see the fluster on his features and the red cast across the tips of his ears. Just above the cover of his fingers were his eyes, hurriedly averted from yours. His mouth was slightly ajar, but in the moments that passed, his lips moved to form whispers you couldn't quite catch.
You stood, frantic. Really, every one of your plans was going awry. "I'm sorry! I, I'll go get you a new cup-"
"He caught his hand in his before you could fully depart, clutching it tightly. His usually cool skin was warm. "N, No, I- It's fine..."
He watched your face brighten with relief as you sat back down, completely cheery again, and released a breath quietly.
Ah, how was he supposed to tell you that the mere sight of your lips touching where he had put his made his heart skip a beat?
— It simply wasn't fair.
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — HEIZOU, KAEYA, CHILDE, venti, ayato, LYNEY
— "Wait, let me try..."
Word had gotten around of a new drink, supposedly "the best in all of teyvat"... naturally, that called for a timely visit. It didn't exactly matter who you went with, though who were you fooling, it did, and he'd been the first one that came to mind when you were drafting a letter. Now, he stood by your side, leisurely swinging his arms while he walked and smiling smugly.
The reason? The moment you reached into your pocket to fish out your wallet to pay the fee for two drinks, you'd found your pockets empty, and that's where he had swooped in, graciously handing over his mora instead. The moment the two of you exited the vicinity of the drink stall, however, he somehow materialized your wallet once more and placed it in your hands with a cat-like grin. That little... you'd be sure to treat him to a meal sometime soon, a favor like that couldn't just be gone unpaid.
...That, and it was a convenient excuse to spend another outing with him.
"Hey, you got the limited edition flavor? C'mon, give me just a sip..." You beamed when he handed said drink down towards you, taking a sip from his straw — until you realized just what you'd done, of course.
It wasn't like it was something dire, not by any means. You were rather the romantic, and the fact that... well, hadn't the two of you just kissed indirectly?
You didn't voice your thoughts, only meekly retreated after handing the bottle back to him, growing even more flustered when your fingers brushed against his in the process. He seemed to hear them, however, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.
"Oh, don't tell me you were aiming for an indirect kiss all along?"
"W- No!" Ugh, that twinkle in his eyes was dangerous. It's easy to see that he doesn't believe you in the slightest. Yet, before you can dispense another rebuttal, he reaches a hand up to your hair and makes a mess of it.
— "Aha, who knew you were so sly~"
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𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 — alhaitham, XIAO, albedo, diluc, neuvillette
— "Is something wrong?"
Well, not exactly "wrong", per se. Instead, there was definitely something wrong with you in particular.
The situation started off like any other would. You found the man in his usual place, and greeted him with a smile, to which he nodded in response. He was a busy person, so you'd decided to take the initiative and make him a boxed lunch, only planning to give it to him and then let him carry on with whatever tasks he needed to complete — only... hey, wasn't it too out of character of him to ask you to feed him??
He glanced up at you, his head subconsciously tilting to the side. Just with that simple movement, a figurative arrow struck your heart. "If it's too much trouble, nevermind-"
You awkwardly coughed into your fist, trying to disperse any awfully hopeful thoughts of "hey, isn't this so romantic!?" in your head — yearning for him was one thing, but projecting your imagination of him would be another entirely. "No, it's fine- I was just caught off guard, is all..." At this point, you were more so convincing yourself than him. You dipped your head in a nod to yourself. Of course, he was so swamped with duties that he couldn't spare the time to feed himself, that was the case, wasn't it?
"Here, open wide..." You took a portion of the food and lifted it up to his lips, and he ate it agreeably. Hamster. He's like a hamster, a thought you really shouldn't be having considering how his disposition was, but seeing him swiftly chewing the portion in his cheeks... you cleared your throat, only to flinch with a start upon realizing he'd taken the utensils from you. Now, he held some of the lunch up to you, gesturing it to your mouth.
"Eh, but this is for you-" You declined, yet the insistence in his gaze only grew.
"You brought it for me, so you should have some as well."
"Well... alright," not willing to bother with an argument you were not likely to win, you ate what he hovered before you gratefully, trying to ignore the way he was staring at you as you ate.
W, Wait, hold on, isn't that the same cutlery he used-
"Your face is red. Did you choke? Here, let me-"
"No, it's just that- we, just now- ah, it's nothing."
— "Mhm."
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( a/n ) new post format and its silly ( i hate everything about this ) :stareyes: ahahah anyways. trying to revive myself so. you guys get ( poorly cooked ) food :>
𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 days
Text
just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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uvuyai · 23 days
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Men who use their legs to keep you spread open while they finger you☺️(this is my [short] apology letter for my april fools joke😓) this was based off some chilumi nsfw i found on X. I'll link it later!
Tag ~ fingering, fem!reader(no pronouns),, overstimulation, squirting, mating press, no sex but implied at the end, eating outz, size difference, tit slapping + nipple play,
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The way he just snaps you into position with your legs bent away to your shoulders beneath their legs. The way they pumps and ruthlessly thrusts their fingers into your clenching hole, sending you sky high into a bursting orgasm. The tears and drool running down your face says it all. Your trembling hands clenching the thigh of his pants.
You try your hardest to wriggle your way out of his tight leg lock but they're not letting you go till he's finished with you. You've come for the nth time of the day. your mewls, whines, and moans getting high on pitch every waking second. They like seeing you like this; all spread out, puffy pussy sucking their fingers in, eyes rolling up to heaven, and the sweet juices you squirted out onto their hand.
He leans down and licks a stripe of your cunt, you immediately jump from the sudden change of roughness. They tweak and suck at your clit. Their tongue licking long and forceful stripes of your pussy. Their nose pokes at your clit from time to time. Your tongue hanging out of your mouth and tilting your head to the side to hopefully avoid neck pain. You let out a sharp moan and gasp as you felt yourself wet their hand. Your toes curled at the erupting feeling. You are nearly embarrassed about how you've wet yourself. They raise themselves back up to look back at the mess they've made beneath them. That mess being you. Your eyes are so close to closing as you let out soft and quiet pleas for no more.
But as I've said before; he's not stopping now.
One more time at least baby is what they say and they slide their fingers back into you, immediately curling up into that spot he knows like the back of his palm. Their other hand slams down onto your tits, tweaking them in the process. You're so cute they think as they see you trying to escape his leg prison once again. They give you a hearty chuckle and a teasing smirk. Your eyes try to ultimately focus on them but he doesn't stop pumping his fingers into you. Poor thing, it was only 15 minutes in, but it must've felt like eternity for you. Which you hope was the last of, you clenched your teeth and let out a gut bursting orgasm.
He gets up and flips you onto your stomach and removes the rest of your clothes along with his. They aligned his thick, long cock to your sensitive hole. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day or night for you.
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The characters i think: Zhongli, blade, childe, Kaeya, Boothill, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Diluc, Wriothesley, Jing Yuan, Pantalone, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Sunday, and you favs!
LOVE NOTE SIGNED © 𝑢𝑣𝑢𝑦𝑎𝑖 2024
DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY POST W/O PERMISSION. DO NOT COPY MY LAYOUT. YOU MAY TAKE INSPIRATION BUT MAKE SURE TO CREDIT ME.
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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Open Up
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You help Bucky feel better when he's in a mood.
Word Count: Over 1.8k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, slight jealousy, threat of violence (not against reader), slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: A Sinday treat inspired by this gif! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You found Bucky in one of the interrogation rooms. He had his leather jacket on, but didn't appear to be in a hurry to leave. Taking in his rigid posture from where he sat in his chair, you guessed it wasn't a good day. You wondered what happened or what exactly was bothering him. Considering he didn't look toward you, and he had to know it was you who walked through the door, you sensed that he wasn't in the mood to talk.
It didn't mean you couldn't try and make him feel better.
“Hey, Sarge,” you said, shutting the door behind you before you walked across the room. “Bad day?” You asked, stopping a few inches in front of him.
A pair of steel blue eyes snapped toward you and you couldn't suppress the shiver that rolled down your spine. It wasn't fair that he appeared so commanding when he was the one sitting in a chair and you were on your feet. “You could say that.”
“Anything I can do to help?” You asked with an almost innocent look in your eyes as he spread his massive thighs.
“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing to his crotch with his metal hand. “You can get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Your throat went dry as you looked in his lap, watching with growing interest as his thick fingers swiftly unbuckled his belt and pants. What if someone walked in? It was no secret that you and Bucky were together, but it didn't mean anyone should have to witness any of your endeavors. Then again, wasn't the thrill of getting caught part of the fun?
“Are you sure that's what you want? You could fuck my pussy,” you offered, your panties embarrassingly damp considering he hadn't touched you. If he asked you to, you’d ride him in that chair until his eyes rolled back.
The low chuckle he let out made your throat go dry. His laughter didn't fool you. He wasn't in the mood to play or tease. “If you want my cock in your cunt so badly, you better earn it by taking me in your fucking throat first,” he growled.
Your knees just about gave out, which gave you the perfect excuse to sink to the cool floor. “Will that make you feel better?” You asked as you crawled to him and slid your hands up his legs. Your cheeks flamed under his dark gaze. It was a thing of wonder to have his full attention. “Your big cock fucking my throat? Making me swallow every drop?”
“It’s a start,” he whispered, cupping your jaw with a tender touch. His thumb reached over to trace your lips, but pulled away before you could suck the digit into your waiting mouth. “Need that pretty pussy filled, too.”
You clenched, wishing he’d shove you on the back, push your legs apart, and drive his cock in so deep you'd scream. But you wouldn't get what you wanted if you didn't take care of him first. And having his dick in your mouth was something you craved, so you would enjoy it.
“Tell me you need it,” he ordered, his tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth dragged along it.
“I need it. Need you to fuck my throat,” you begged, unzipping his jeans and peeling them down with his underwear as far as you could. His thick cock bobbed free and you couldn't help licking your lips at the sight. You gripped the base and preened when he hardened more under your touch. “It’s so big. You can choke me with it if you want to.”
He groaned, heat curling in your gut when he rocked his hips up. “Look at you. So eager for it. Bet you'd rub your pussy against my boot if I told you to just to get a taste,” he rasped, making you whine. You’d love to leave a shine on his leather. “Everyone thinks you're a good agent and a good girl, but you’re my little cockslut.”
You pouted as you looked up at him. His blue eyes had gone black, the light shining over his head giving him the appearance of a dark angel. Beautiful, tortured, and heavenly. “I’m all of those things,” you said, licking from just above where your fingers held him to the tip. “I’m a good agent and a good girl. Your good girl.”
Because if there was anyone you wanted to be good for, it was Bucky Barnes.
“Fuck,” he grunted when your enclosed your lips around the head. The taste of him bloomed on your tongue, but it was just the beginning. He’d spill down your throat by the time you were done so the very essence of him lingered. “You are, doll. You’re so good and all mine,” he said, growling the last word.
You pulled off with a sweet smile, his praise bringing out your need to please him more. “And I’m very much your cockslut. So fuck my throat, Sarge,” you said, wasting no time swallowing him down.
“Your fucking mouth,” he groaned, bringing a hand to the back of your neck.
You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked in a breath through your nose as you relaxed your throat. As tempted as you were to reach between your legs and give yourself some relief, you rested your free hand on his thigh. The muscle twitched beneath it and he would feel it if you gave him the signal to stop. You never once had to.
You took him every single time.
He touched your jaw again, making sure your mouth stayed wide open around him. He forced you to take him in deeper, his hips thrusting up as you gagged. “That’s it. Suck it just like that,” he urged, making you moan around the thick length of him. “My good girl. Everything I need right here.”
Tears blurred your vision, but they quickly spilled over. He looked back at you with half-lidded eyes, your heart pounding at the sight. You knew you looked pretty stretched around him. And you knew he wanted to keep you.
“So beautiful on your knees,” he praised, his hands moving to grip each side of your head to control the pace. You whimpered when your hand fell away and nose brushed the curls at the base of his cock. His metal thumb wiped away a tear as he made you bob your head. “Take it, doll. I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. I know you can.”
Those weren't just words to stroke his ego or your own. It was a lot to take. Drool seeped from the corners of your mouth, adding to the mess from your tear tracks and running makeup. You were certain you looked ruined, which only made you more stunning in his eyes. Because he was the cause and effect. He broke you so beautifully and put every piece back in place while leaving a bit of himself behind as a reminder of who you belonged to.
“You're my girl,” he said in a deep voice, quickening his pace as your throat contracted around him. “Mine.”
“Yours.” The muffled reply made him growl. You reached up to cup his balls, still allowing him to keep the pace. He said he wanted to fuck your throat and you wouldn't stop him, but you wanted to make him feel good.
“My dirty girl on her knees. Bet the camera’s recording us right now,” he went on, your mouth pliant as he continued to thrust. You almost forgot about the surveillance. “Should swipe the footage. Make you sit on my cock while you watch how well you take it.”
You moaned, sending more vibrations through his cock as he groaned and panted. His rhythm almost faltered when you gently squeezed, feeling him twitch in your mouth and under your hand before you let go. He was so close, chasing his release. It was getting harder to breathe, your eyes stinging with tears again, but he was almost there.
You had to get him off.
The slight drag of your teeth did the trick. “Take it. Don't waste a fucking drop,” he grunted, his face twisting and keeping your head down as his release flooded your mouth. Glancing up at him as you did your best to swallow it all, he looked like such a pretty mess, too. Parted lips, warm cheeks, pupils blown with lust. He was just as ruined as you.
No one else had that kind of power over him.
You gasped and greedily inhaled when he pulled you off of him and slumped in the chair, catching his breath, too. He groaned when your tongue went out to catch another drop that dropped from the head of his cock. Your soaked panties from having him in your mouth didn't matter. He’d get you off soon enough.
As long as he was okay from whatever bothered him earlier, that was all you cared about.
“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing the chair back and joining you on your knees. He slotted his lips against yours as he pulled you close, leaving you breathless once again as his tongue explored your mouth. You carded your fingers through his short hair as he took what he needed, his stubble leaving a slight burn on your skin.
Another subtle reminder that you were his girl.
“Better, Sarge?” You asked once he finished, your voice raw. If he wanted to talk, you’d listen.
“Much better,” he promised, his next kiss sweet and tender. The earlier tension he held in his body had disappeared, which gave you some relief. “Thank you.”
“Good,” you smiled against his lips.
He closed his eyes, his nose touching yours. “I'm not a killer anymore.”
You raised an eyebrow. Those weren't the words you were expecting to hear. “I know,” you said.
“But I had to stay here,” he said, kissing over to your ear. “Because if I bumped into the agent who touched you earlier, I would've shattered every bone in his hand.”
“Bucky,” you breathed, your heart pounding when he pulled back to stare at you. Lust lit up his eyes again, but there was an underlying rage building as his nostrils flared. Was that why he was in a mood? Because an agent had touched your arm before you said you had a boyfriend? It was so meaningless in your eyes that you had forgotten about it.
But, fuck, if this slightly possessive side wasn't hot.
“You told him you were mine because you’re my good girl. Still pissed me off that he checked you out when you walked away. Still wanted to break his hand,” he snarled, laying you on your back. “And I know your voice is a little hoarse, but I need to make you scream my name. I want everyone nearby to know you’re my girl,” he said, his eyes on you as he pointed to the camera in the far left corner. “And anyone watching.”
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So, that happened. Lovelies, you may go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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erwinsvow · 3 months
Text
𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
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summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.
word count: 2k
now spinning: freak by lana del rey
author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!
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He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.
At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.
You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you. 
You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.
Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.
He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing. 
Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.
That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.
It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that. 
Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.
He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.
𝜗𝜚
The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.
The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.
“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?” 
“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.” 
“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”
“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.” 
“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.
“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”
You smile, giddily. 
“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.
“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”
𝜗𝜚
The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands. 
You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair. 
On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.
Crap. 
When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.
She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.
“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”
“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.
“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door. 
“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.
“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.
𝜗𝜚
It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him. 
Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.
“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it. 
“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”
“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”
“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”
“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.” 
“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”
“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands. 
“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”
“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.
“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.
“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”
“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.
“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”
You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.
“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?” 
You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.
“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.
JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.
“No, no, gross, gross!”
John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.
You let out another breath.
“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now. 
“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!
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