#what you desire so badly will be so far out of reach until you own up that you are playing urself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonsmixtapes · 19 days

Text

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgeton fluff

830 notes · View notes

yumeboshi · 7 days

Note

congrats on 100 omg !!!! may i please order a sickly sweet sprinkle sundae? <3 your vibe is simply incredible

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @bunn3333s .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚SICKLY SWEET SPRINKLE SUNDAE：sickly sweet it makes you throw up!

𐙚 dish desc。．a not so romantic dinner sunday made for you after you tried running away.

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。 general yandere themes, manipulation, filthy, mentions of aphrodisiacs, no i promise i write for other characters too, heavy brainrot, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday

WAS HE ANGRY?

it was hard to tell by the way SUNDAY smiles at you with eyes hollow like shells, gesturing for you to take a seat at the lavish dinner table. your fiancé, although more of a forced engagement, was undoubtedly a good cook. the dishes set across the spacious wooden table cloaked with heavenly silk were straight from a 5-star course meal at the Reverie, each one tingling your nostrils with an exquisitely savory smell.

the situation might have been very flattering if you haven’t tried to run away from him moments ago.

“please, take a seat. i made it just for you, you know.” he laughs shortly at your hesitance, but his eyes pierce through you, like a predator waiting for its prey.

you feel your heart thud against your chest as you sit down tentatively- the scrape of the chair only scratching your nerves even more. although the scent around you tempted your stomach, your mouth felt paradoxically dry and you felt like throwing up. you felt uncomfortable, as if a thousand ants were crawling over your skin by his stare that never once leaves you.

“you deserve to eat,” he breaks your discomfort with a gentle hand that guides your own to the silver utensils that are far too expensive for you. “you’ve been such a good girl.”

the way he says it tells you he doesn’t think that at all. but how can you possibly deny him, when you’ve already done it once? you should be grateful he’s even allowing you to eat.

but as the steak reaches your lips, you feel a sudden churn in your throat that tells you you really shouldn’t eat it. sunday taps you with the other hand on your shoulder- a subtle warning, but when you don’t do as he says, he sighs in condescension and pries your mouth open to force it in, caring little about the way your saliva stains his pristine gloves.

the meat surprisingly melts on your tongue like heaven- it’s juicy and just so right. it’s the most perfect bite of meat you’ve ever tasted, which shows on your surprised expression which makes your fiancé scold you—

“what did i tell you, dear? I didn’t put anything in there. this indeed says something about how little you trust me.”

and when he removes his and from yours, telling you that he’s not going to cook anymore- you beg him that you’re sorry for mistrusting him. oh, what a sin you’ve committed— how dare you even doubt sunday, who always showers you with such love you don’t deserve after your attempt to run?

he pretends to give in to your pretty pleas when you hug him while sobbing about how delicious it is, all the while telling you that you’re such a stupid little dove he has to teach constantly until she learns he manners.

little do you know, the meat you’re chewing has an oddly sweet aftertaste. the more sunday feeds you with his hand over your own, subtly coaxing you to eat the entire thing, all the while making you think it’s your own choice to eat it, the more your brain fuzzes, your vision blurry, slowly drowning your own coherent thoughts with such a primal need that builds itself to the surface, a desire that morphs into a cacophony in your head that chants that you need him so badly.

and he’ll drag out the drugged thoughts of yours, acting as if you’re the one who badly wants him to bury in his thick cock inside you- when in reality, sunday is the one who desires it so bad. he’s wanted to stuff you full with his own cum- make you his, trapping you with his children since the day he’s laid eyes on you, but a true manipulator always plays the longer game, and he was willing to wait.

now, his long-awaited fantasies are fulfilled as he watches your hole gushing around his cock, whimpering his name as you clutch the sheets- pretty bite marks decorating every nook and cranny. and fuck, oh it makes him feel like he’s finally flown to his desired heaven. he feels complete.

he feels like his twisted paradise is near.

#𐙚．。articles #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #sunday x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail yandere #sunday smut #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x you #hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere sunday #yandere hsr x reader

288 notes · View notes

maximotts · 10 months

Note

18. “so perfect all tied up for me.” With your dollhouse au? I’m imagining those silk ribbon bondage rope not just tying you down but wrapped around you because Wanda thinks it’s such a pretty sight <3

I'm a different person posting this than I was yesterday when I started this fic... and then it got Deleted in drafts and I saw my life flash before my eyes. This is edited kinda, but honestlyyy I just needed to conquer it at this point lmao

please don't flag this fic, I have warnings clearly labeled

Doll House AU. masterlist. wc: 1.7 cw: 18+ only, please. smut, fluff. loose ribbon bondage. body worship. inspection. fingering (r receiving). oral (r receiving). size kink if you squint. overstim. mommy kink. snuggly aftercare. and then all the usual Doll House warnings.

Wanda and Doll spend an intimate afternoon in bed, Wanda perfecting her ribbon tying skills while judging your patience

⁛— 2nd birthday sleepover.

"There you go, all nice and pretty..."

Silk ribbons adorned your figure, wrapping you like an extra present to Wanda, from Wanda. She'd spent the past hour fawning over you atop your plush bed, shedding your morning outfit only to replace it with buttery soft threads. "So perfect, all tied up for me."

It wasn't tight enough to restrain you really, if you truly wanted to wiggling away was an option— but you didn't want anything of the sort. Wanda's undivided attention was the best kind of afternoon you could hope for.

Curious as ever, you still had your questions. "Mommy, why aren't these tight?"

Shrugging your shoulders showed off the little movement you could make, careful not to undo any of Wanda's hard work. The older woman laughed and kissed your hip above the ribbon she'd tied over your curves, amusement filled green eyes gazing up and instantly bringing a dopey smile to your face. "I don't want to tie you down, not today at least."

"Then what are we doing?" Oh you wished so badly you could reach up and kiss her, but your wrists tied at your middle stopped you from bending too far, again more fearful of messing up whatever goal Wanda strove for.

And that was the most of what you were doing, Wanda testing your patience, whatever willingness you had to let your reverence of her outweigh your own desires... so far you were performing perfectly.

“We’re playing, of course. Silly thing,” Wanda sat up between your legs, crawling over your prone body until she could reach your neck for her next area of focus. It was an excessive show of possession, biting endlessly along your throat, leaving marks she'd be tending to for days after, relishing in how helplessly you squirmed under her; this could easily become her favorite afternoon playtime. "Aren't you having fun?"

Lithe fingers slid under the thick ribbons at your legs, playfully tugging just to hear your surprised squeak. Your legs fell apart with nearly no coaxing, Wanda’s fingernails scraping over your inner thighs just the way she knew you adored. Small shivers rattled your body as best they could within your restraints, ever conscious of leaving them in place, and the moment she laid eyes on your glistening sex she remembered why she’d decided to keep your lower limbs tied separately.

“I asked you a question.” The only answer she received was your meek nod, an action that resulted in a faux pout from Wanda, more concerned with how often you forgot you were allowed to speak now rather than whether or not you were truly enjoying yourself. That much was evident.

“It sure looks like you’re having fun,” Spreading your folds apart was just as easy as your legs, leaving you completely vulnerable to Wanda’s impromptu inspection. No matter how long you stayed with her, there was a persistent shyness about you, but your longing for your mommy’s approval always won out. It would be so easy to uncurl your hands where they rested bound together a mere few inches above Wanda’s, to push her away and cover yourself… but you didn’t— just as Wanda expected of you.

Today’s obedience earned you a reward, but Wanda wouldn’t spell it out for you, preferring instead to continue her game of testing self-restraint. It was better to train you into behaving even without possible reward, no matter that she already spoiled you rotten every chance she got. Two wet digits left their examination and came to settle on your waiting lips, your patience forced but steadfast. “Say please.”

“Please mommy, may I clean your fingers?” The drawn out please was so adorable Wanda wanted to suffocate you, but instead she sated herself with your grateful sigh around her, your tongue diligently licking until she drew them away.

Her hand came back to settle between your supple thighs, fingers sliding easily through your sex, knuckles just barely grazing your clit. Curious fingertips fell down to your entrance, gathering warm wetness from where you were dripping and bringing them to her own mouth this time. She always wondered if you knew how desperate she was to have you, but one look down at your dazed expression answered that for her easily. “Did my playtime make you all icky? Do I need to clean you up?”

Admittedly, the past hour of Wanda’s gentle touches, sweet words and even sweeter kisses left your brain fuzzy. The tingling in the pit of your stomach had grown into a calm and pleasant ache, much gentler than the gnawing, desperate clawing that plagued you whenever Wanda was rough. Sometimes she left you at that painful edge, frustrated to no end and chastising any complaints she caught. Today if she’d left you with nothing, maybe you’d be able to manage the evening with dull nagging, but the notion of an orgasm at the end of your slowly building high was too tempting to pass by; you had to make your need known. “Make it better, please… want it so bad.”

“So now you speak up, whenever you need something from me…” Wanda took her sweet time traveling down your front, lips brushing over every curve and divot so that when she finally placed one last adoring kiss atop your mound, anticipation buzzed through your veins. “You can cum as much as you’d like, but don’t you dare untie yourself.”

Sometimes Wanda’s rewards were straightforward, a simple start and finish before she sent you off. Surprisingly, you preferred rewards you worked towards together, ones like these where her tongue drew intricate patterns over your clit, teasing and testing just how far gone she could pull you while you remained committed to following her rules. It was harder than it looked, knowing you had the ability to twist and turn with every perfectly placed stroke, but willing your body to stay confined, to preserve Wanda’s ribbon-tied handiwork.

Thankfully they allowed space for the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the clenching of your core as the first wave of orgasm washed over, knocking your head back into your plush array of pillows as you erupted into a fit of moans and pleas. “Mommy.. Mommy, please.. again! Wanna cum again-”

“Such a needy doll, so pretty all tied up for me and begging for my mouth.” It was a brutal inner battle to keep from bucking your hips, fingers fidgeting at your midsection to keep busy in anything other than Wanda’s hair. When she descended again it was all worth it, warm mouth suckling at your swollen bud to distract from the three fingers prodding at your hole.

The stretch was maddening, an instantaneous full feeling sending you over the edge again before Wanda even got the chance to move. She groaned around you as she felt your walls clench, free hand coming to wrap securely around your upper thigh; instinct drove you to back away from the thick intrusion, but she couldn’t have any of that. “Shh, sweetheart, let mommy play a little longer.”

“O-Okay..” Your previous pleasant need evolved into something more, something starved within that only reared its head when Wanda’s intentions turned heady. Careful not to toss around too much, you relaxed as your thoughts settled into a low hum, taking every thrust and each curl of her fingers until individual orgasms merged to one neverending bliss.. you’d lost count after three anyways.

After some unmeasured amount of time, Wanda granted you a reprieve, leaving you dreadfully empty and weakly clenching around nothing. You felt limp head to toe, unable to even raise your arms without Wanda’s help as she worked to slowly unwrap you. She took her time so as not to startle you, smoothing over any tiny indent her ribbon left from your movements and doting on it with a cautious rub of her thumb.

Once she was done, she was genuinely surprised you hadn’t dozed off; the act of overstimulation alone was occasionally enough to leave you napping for hours. But today heavy eyes lazily followed her every move, bottom lip quivering more visibly by the second. “You did a wonderful job today, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise was much appreciated as always, but you’d been missing one thing terribly since Wanda had first given the instruction to lay back while she unfurled her ribbon and tired as you were, you needed one last clarification. “Can I touch you now, I want a hug…”

“Of course, we’re long past our game.” You were in Wanda’s lap after the second word, curling into her and wrapping your arms around her middle in the tightest hug you could muster. Any time she searched your thoughts, they were full of her, the urge to be near her so strong Wanda was surprised whenever she got a moment to herself these days.

It was the sweetest form of devotion she could imagine, the pure need to keep her presence in whatever capacity; your lovey ways never failed to render her heart gooey. “That’s why you were so pouty just now, my poor little snugglebug.”

Giving your tummy the gentlest tickle before drawing the sheets closer, Wanda scooted you both until she could lay you down; not that the position mattered much when you stayed attached at the hip. Content little noises rumbled against Wanda’s arm as you made them, keeping still even as you craned your neck to cover her cheek in appreciative smooches. “Nap with me, mama. I’m sleepy.”

“If you insist,” Now it was Wanda’s turn for restraint. It’d take little to no effort to pull herself from your grip even without her powers; there were a myriad of things waiting for her to do downstairs… but she stayed put. The desire to see your smiling face when you woke up in a while, ever excited to wake up in her arms, far outweighed any living room cleaning.

#I'm so exhausted pls forgive typos #doll house au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #maximotts 2nd anniversary #motts writes.#maximotts

496 notes · View notes

aqualesha · 2 years

Text

The Balladeer's Regret - Scaramouche x GN! Reader

character : Scaramouche

prompts : 19. “i can’t do this anymore” & 24. “just leave me alone”

summary : loving Scaramouche is hard, and you were aware of it. yet you never stopped loving him. his harsh words may sting, but you know deep down that he was a gentle soul and he never meant those things he said. you fell in love with Kunikuzushi, so gentle and fragile. if only he had noticed earlier how badly he had hurt you. he wanted to turn back time. but he knew that he couldn’t. he had lost everything because of his own foolishness.

- spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quest Act 2 & 3, pure angst/no-comfort, cursing, arguments, scara spitting harsh words, scara’s real name spoiler, scara’s past, not proofread

- word count : 1.8k

~ my entry for @versadies angstober writing collab - farewell, love

“Don’t leave me…”

“Please stay…”

“I didn’t mean all those things…"

These were the words that have been echoing inside his mind now. His mind was begging for him to drop his ego and call out to you, to stop you. He didn’t want you to leave him like the others. Not when he didn’t have anyone else but you.

How ironic of him, to feel distraught when you turned on your heels to walk out the door of your shared home. He recalled the poisonous words that spilled from his mouth, that were directed towards you. The look of hurt in your eyes and the way your expression faltered when he pushed you away and raised his tone at you. He didn’t mean anything that he said.

He swore that he could feel his non-existent heart shattering at the sight of your glistening tears cascading down your cheeks and your hushed whisper of “I’m sorry..” while you backed away from him. He could never forget how your voice trembled when you uttered the words that had Scaramouche breaking down right after.

“I still love you.”

He had taken your kindness for granted. You had always been with him even before he was known as Scaramouche. You had been with him since he was nothing but a broken puppet, Kunikuzushi. You accompanied him and lent your shoulder for him to cry on when you found him cornered by the darkness of Shakkei Pavilion. You saved him from his greatest suffering, which was loneliness and betrayal.

But the greatest pain was being betrayed by his own creator, his mother. The mother who was supposed to take care of her child with care. He never got to feel a mother’s love, for his mother replaced him with another puppet after taking notice that Kunikuzushi was too weak. He cried in his dreams, which showed his vulnerability and his fragility. A puppet that has emotions simply couldn’t be called a puppet, now can it?

Kunikuzushi had always been a gentle being, far from what his creator was expecting for a divine being, a god’s replacement. Yet, he couldn’t do anything as he was created with these human emotions. He swore to lock away all remaining emotions he had in himself so that he could grow stronger. He wanted to show his creator that he is not weak.

That was until he met you. Your existence in his life changed his objective and purpose. Even so, he still desired to claim the godhood he should’ve obtained if not for his stupid emotions getting in the way hundreds of years ago.

You had always loved him, no matter the circumstances. But you couldn’t fully agree with him when he decided to seek help from Il Dottore to achieve godhood. You knew how crazy it sounded and how far Dottore could go to achieve anything he desired. He was the 2nd Harbinger for Archon’s sake.

You weren’t against the idea of Scaramouche reaching divinity, but you were worried about his safety too. But you knew better than to interrupt their plans. You could get your head blown if you try to mess with Dottore, even when you two were quite well acquainted a few years ago when you were still in the Fatui. But that was long ago.

Ever since you both started living in Sumeru, you rarely ever see Scaramouche coming home. He’d either stay in his office or not come home at all for a few days. It was starting to make you worry. A puppet doesn’t need sleep, but he wasn’t completely a synthetic puppet. You had the right to make sure that he’d taken care of himself too.

The clock in your shared bedroom was ticking ever-so-slowly, making you sigh for the umpteenth time. “This can’t keep going on..” That was when you decided to have a talk with him once he really comes back.

You didn’t know how it turned out like this. It was supposed to be a simple talk regarding his absence and his goal to achieve divinity. That’s all. How naive of you to think that he’d apologize just like he always did. You really thought that you could simply convince him when you were talking about the only goal he tried so hard to achieve?

He was starting to think that you were doubting him and his capabilities. He was created to become a god, so why were you against it now? Didn’t you promise him to always be with him until he has fulfilled his goal to become a god? Are you betraying his trust now? How pathetic.

He was losing his temper. He knew that he couldn’t control his anger that well. The way you worded it made him realize that all humans are the same. They can’t be trusted. “Kuni, I’m just saying that what you’re planning with Dottore is quite.. dangerous.” Dangerous, you say? He was a divine being, created with the power that equals those of gods. Don’t you dare spit out those stupid nonsense in front of him.

“Are you underestimating me and my capabilities? Come on, you knew better than that.” The way he glared at you made you feel small under his gaze. It made you feel terrified of the sudden change in his aura. It has become unsettling and dark. You fucked up and there was nowhere you could hide.

"It wasn’t that.. But- You’re going to hurt the people in Sumeru.. Besides, this nation already has its own god, so why bother taking her place?“ You were careful with your words, trying to not worsen the situation you’re in. The atmosphere was getting tenser each passing time that you could barely breathe through your lungs.

“That small kid? She couldn’t even do anything. She’s weak and useless at this point. I’m just doing a favor for her people. I can be a better deity than her.” His tone was no longer the gentle tone that Kunikuzushi always used. It was Balladeer taking over the conversation. His voice was full of venom, and he stared at you with a look that feared you.

A look of disapproval was written on his face. He must’ve hated you now. How stupid you were, to bring up about his purpose of life when he trusted you to always be with him.

It had to be said even though it was going to hurt both you and him. You really didn’t want him to get hurt. It was the least you could do. “How do you know that Lesser Lord Kusanali wasn’t able to look after her people? As far as I know, she’s the gentlest and the kindest Archon.. Please have faith in her. You don’t have to do all this just because of your goal to achieve godhood. Ei had acknowledged your strength so please…”

You almost ran out of breath after holding it in for far too long. You shifted your gaze towards Scaramouche and you were stunned. He was taking quick steps towards you before holding you by the hair. Disappointment and hatred could be seen in his eyes as he made you face him directly.

"What is it that’s so fucking hard for you to understand. I was born as a divine being and this is how I’d get what I deserved. Your opinions don’t matter to me. You’re just a weak mortal who just happened to have some pity for me, hmm? You never cared, didn’t you? I should’ve known better than to trust a mortal.“ He looked at you with pure loathe. You couldn’t bear to see him looking at you as if you’ve been nothing but a burden and a hindrance.

You ignored the aching sensation on your scalp as he was still holding a fistful of your hair in his hand. The sharp pain in your heart hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt. You tried to grab him by the shoulder to make him halt his movements. It hurts so much… “Don’t touch me…” He let go of your hair and took a step away. You dropped onto your knees, hissing from the searing pain as you held your scalp with your hand. It took a lot of strength in you to hold the tears in. This truly wasn’t what you had expected.

You called out his name in a small voice. “Scara-” “Don’t you dare say anything else!” You still continued even though it was clear that he didn’t want to hear anything from you. “I can’t do this anymore..” You uttered while leaning against the wall to steady yourself. He then laughed mockingly at you, showing that he had expected this from the start.

"Are you now? Have you finally realized that you were simply useless? Look at you, pathetically crying over small insults. Humans are weak, they are too vulnerable and worthless compared to a divine being. You were just a pawn in my plan, after all. You meant nothing to me. Your pathetic emotions will only distract me from achieving my goal.“ He was too harsh, but he could care less. These stupid emotions will only drag him down.

“Oh and one more thing,” He continued while taking a few steps toward where you were weakly standing on your feet. His eyes settled on you as he gave you a deadly glare that almost had you shedding more tears. “Just leave me the fuck alone, and never show yourself in front of me again, you traitor."

It dawned on him like crashing waves. He had lost you, the only person who stayed long enough and sacrificed their whole life to be with him. He knew he fucked up. But his ego was too big for him to chase after you and apologize, even though his mind was practically screaming at him.

He never knew warmth and love anymore. His artificial heart was beating frantically in his chest. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… He could never take those harsh words back. You probably loathe him now.

He deserved it. He was the one who had wished for this. He wanted you to leave him alone, so you obliged by getting out of his life completely. He lashed out at you and put the blame on you. He broke your heart. Your gentle and fragile heart that he once swore to protect. Five words were all it took to completely lose everything. He had lost you, his other half. You, who had given him your heart to feel the warmth of love and care.

Now, he felt nothing but numbness and emptiness. You must’ve felt lonely too when he wasn’t home for a long time. The deafening silence in every corner of your home was driving him insane. The atmosphere in your shared room had never felt this cold. The mattress felt hard under his weight. The duvet felt uncomfortable. Something was wrong. No, everything felt wrong. It lacked warmth and love. Something that he could never gain again. All because of his foolishness.

He was foolish to have pushed you away for his own selfishness. He was even more foolish to even think that he deserved a happy ending despite all the horrible things he had done. Especially towards you.

#farewell-love #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche angst #wanderer x reader angst #wanderer angst #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin x reader

1K notes · View notes

hearthotchner · 1 year

Text

flowers, petnames, and, apologies

— inspired by this post, which was prompted by a tiktok sound

walking into the bullpen, derek morgan couldn’t help but notice the person delivering a large bouquet of flowers, “woah woah woah, who are these for?” he asked, assuming they were for one of his female co-workers.

“um.. a mr aaron hotchner?”

derek’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and his jaw dropped, just before the expression was replaced with a mischievous smirk, “let me take this off your hands, i’ll give ‘em to him.”

after bidding the delivery man a thank you and goodbye, derek carefully placed it onto his empty desk; almost immediately, his coworkers surrounded him, intrigued by the colourful array of flowers that lay on his desk.

the bouquet wasn’t overwhelmingly bright, yet it wasn’t void of hues either. they were light, soft, pastel colours — easy on the eyes — majorly white, but with splashes of light yellows, baby pinks and reds dotted around, with, just a hint of blue.

“do you know who they’re from?” penelope’s voice piped up.

before morgan could respond, he was cut off by reid, “most likely a partner. did you guys know that lily of the valley actually represents new beginnings, which is why they’re used for various occasions: weddings, baby showers. and, the blue hyacinths show a desire to make peace — they’re apology flowers, the colours are those usually used to display remorse.” his voice got higher as he got more excited about the topic, “oh! and roses are typically used for a romantic partner, and are normally pink or red; in this instance they’re yellow, and there’s a lot of them, meaning they’re likely to be his favourites.”finally taking in the bewildered looks of his colleagues, the young genius smiled sheepishly at them, quickly shutting himself up.

“you look way too far into things, reid.” derek rolled his eyes, “they’re probably just an early valentine.”

“there’s a note.” jj pointed out — it was hidden inbetween a couple roses.

as derek reached for it, penelope scolded him, “hey! stop messing it up! we really shouldn’t be snooping, you know he likes his privacy.” she frowned, attempting to remain mature, “but i wanna know so badly- be careful!” she lightly smacked his arm.

with confidence that he was right, derek flipped the note over to read it out loud; the smirk wiped off his face at the first two words he saw, “i’m sorry.” he read in annoyance, while glaring at spencer — but nothing could prepare any of them for the next words,

“miss you pookie bear?”

—

meanwhile, said pookie bear was sat at his desk, paying no mind to what was going on in the bullpen, with his head in his hands: your argument from the night before being the only thing he could think about.

—

“this is the third time you’ve done this, aaron.”disappointment evident in your voice.

“i know, i’m sorry.” there were his empty apologies, “i got caught up at work, i lose track of time.” and his pathetic attempts to excuse his negligence of your relationship.

“but you always do this, you’re never here. you never text, or call, and i’m waiting up until 12 in the morning for you.”

“look, we’ll talk about it in the morning, i’m tired.” he sighed.

“we won’t, because you’ll be gone before i wake up.” you were telling the truth — that’s exactly what he did the next morning, left for work without saying a word.

he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, “you knew what it was going to be like when we started dating, you said you could handle it. my job is demanding.”

rightfully so, you were becoming upset, “not for paperwork! i understand that you get called away abruptly, and i love that you value other peoples lives before your own — it’s why i fell in love with you.” you smiled at him softly, although, it wasn’t for long. “but, i’m talking about when you’re cooped up in the office for so long, there’s no reason for you to be staying there for that much time, after everyone else has left.”

then, everything went quiet for a bit, with you waiting for him to provide some sort of explanation, and when you didn’t get that, you continued, “i just think… if you had to choose between me or your job, you’d pick your job with no hesitation.”

the lack of response caused your face to fall, “i’m sleeping in the guest room tonight, aaron.”

he should’ve done something, anything. instead, he ran away, avoided you like a coward, using his office as a place to seek refuge from taking accountability for his actions.

one time, you told him he was bravest man you ever knew — he almost laughed at how wrong you were.

history was repeating itself. you were his second chance at love, and he was making the same old mistakes, that cost him his family. aaron thought he had changed, swore to himself that he’d never do something like this again. but, here he was, having someone waiting at home, willing to drop anything for him, yet he wouldn’t do the same.

picking up his phone, he dialled your number.

it rang out for a minute, before going to voicemail — he hoped you were just busy, and weren’t already walking out of his life.

“hey,” he breathed “i wanted to say i’m sorry, for last night, this morning.. everything really. i shouldn’t have left, and i should’ve said something.” closing his eyes, he stopped himself from rambling, because you deserved to hear it in person, “i’ll be home soon, and we can talk.. please call me back.” please don’t leave me. “i love you.”

hurriedly gathering his things, aaron walked out of his office; path coming to a stop when he saw his team staring at him, all looking a little smug. a puzzled look found it’s way onto the unit chiefs face.

“hey there snookums.” derek grinned.

aaron quirked a brow, frown deepening, “what?”

stifling a giggle, emily gestured to the bouquet, “someone sent you flowers.”

knowing exactly who sent them, he swiftly excused himself to set it up in his office.

when he read the note, he felt his lips curve up slightly, and he jokingly huffed at the petname — you always loved making him blush and laugh with the obscure names you’d come up with for him.

but, why were you apologising? you did nothing wrong. it should’ve been him doing this, not you.

right as his thoughts began to spiral, they were interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.

“hi, aaron! did you get my gift?” hearing the sweet sound of your voice, so excited and happy to speak to him, brought a sense of relief over him.

rough hands slowly reached over to feel the soft yellow rose petals. “yeah, i did. thank you.” his brows tilted upwards, guilt kicking in again, “why are you saying sorry?”

“‘cause, i shouldn’t have accused you of choosing your job over me, it wasn’t right to push that on you-”

were you out of your mind?

“sweetheart, please stop.” he begged. “you haven’t done anything wrong. telling me how you feel isn’t wrong — telling me that i’m not doing enough isn’t wrong. we need to tell each other these things.” he shut down your attempts to put yourself at unnecessary fault. “i know i haven’t been around lately, but i’m gonna change that. i promise. i want to be deserving of your love, (y/n).”

“you already are, aaron.” you whispered.

“i’m leaving now, so i’ll talk to you at home. i have a bunch of free days to use, and we have lost time to make up for.” he smiled.

closing the door behind him for a second time, aaron scanned the room, his team no longer huddled in one spot, now at their desks; still deep in a conversation he didn’t care that much for.

the bullpen fell silent at the sight of him with his briefcase and keys in his hand, shocked that he was leaving early — not even on time.

morgan, of course, was the first to talk, “where’re you off to in such a hurry honeybunny?” snickering at his own joke.

“don’t make me flag you for creating a hostile work environment, derek.”

“that’s not funny!”

#kinda unhappy with how the ending was written ngl #this was meant to be funny idk why he got sad #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #my fic

699 notes · View notes

sexiestpodcastcharacter · 7 months

Text

Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Mabel Martin (Mabel):

the girl half-burning!!! the bitch queen of hell!!! dead girl walking!!! rot-hearted girl!!!! consort to king anna limon!!!! lesbian icon!!!!

Who is doing it like Mabel Martin? No one. She's a lesbian. She is the lamb, and the knife. She is so loved that god herself tore a hole between worlds to find her again. She tore out her own veins to bargain with the house that holds her. She is the girl half-burning, she kept a bullet that came out of her (it was hers. she birthed it), she is the Labyrinth. And she is the Minotaur.

a vote for Mabel is a vote for insane codependent lesbians everywhere 👍 also for women with large noses (the hottest of women)

Hera (Wolf 359):

I don't care if she's an AI with no physical form, she is HOT

my digital wife <3

oh it's always "i want a hot computergirl with poor cable management to glitch on my shit" and "i want to fuck her until she bluescreens" on this website until it's time to put your money where your mouth is. i have a post about usb penetration with tens of thousands of notes. i see the things you all say. you have a hot computergirl in front of you and this is how you all repay her? you would abandon her? prove yourselves as the computer sex website; vote for hera NOW!!!

"everyone voting Hera in this round is doing it strictly because she is an AI" WRONG. INCORRECT. everyone voting for hera is doing it because she's funny and thoughtful and passionate and wears her heart on her sleeve despite all of the times people have let her down. because she's anti-authority, and that's sexy. it's sexy that she's an AI because the way she navigates being a woman in that context is inherently transgender, and THAT'S sexy, but on its own? not even like, top five most relevant things about her. self-determination? that's sexy.

VOTE FOR HERA. i'm not done. i've made the case that she would want this more, and that's true, but you should also want her. the propaganda says she doesn't have a physical form - in one sense, that's true, but she DOES have an internal self-image and the desire for physicality. most of the physical sensations she's experienced so far have been painful - think of what you could do for her. she has human desire without the means to act on it. she's the most touch starved anyone has ever been. making love to someone who can't be touched by conventional means IS inherently sexy and it IS a win for disabled trans women everywhere.

she's passionate and kind of emotionally unstable and fiercely loyal - "officer eiffel? he's your deadman's switch. if you let him die, or if you do anything that doesn't fall under the category of do no harm, i will go off. i will rain acid on your ass. i will crank the temperature in the room so high that your skin will crack, and bubble, and burn. i will vent you into space through a hole the size of a quarter. and if i am feeling very, very generous, i won't do all those things slowly." like come on!! what more do you want!!

VOTE FOR HERA. my final, last-minute appeal: her character arc is fundamentally about identity, autonomy, and being seen the way she wants to be seen. the way she navigates her identity as a woman in this context is inherently transgender, and that IS sexy. she's funny, she's passionate, she's sweet, she's been let down repeatedly by almost everyone she's ever met and she still opens her heart to people because she so badly craves connection. she's frustrated, touch starved, and pent up, and was initially rejected from service because of her impulsive, emotional, unorthodox way of thinking. i have so much more i could say on her behalf, but this IS a contest of sex appeal. thinking outside the box, breaking rules, and reaching beyond the limitations of her own form is so central to who she is. hera could come up with freak shit beyond the comprehension of the average person, and she IS enthusiastic enough to make it work.

Art of Mabel from @kayleerowena.

#Round 5 #Mabel Martin #Hera #Hera W359 #Mabel #Mabel Podcast #Wolf 359

149 notes · View notes

seneitut · 10 months

Note

id absolutely adore a part 2 for quietness if you plan to continue it! i’m a huge lover of the sub gekko agenda <3

“Quietness”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Gekko/F!Reader] [Slight Cypher/F!Reader]

Words: 5.7K

Tags: NSFW +18, smut, Dom!Reader, Sub!Gekko, choking, vaginal sex, cowgirl, fluff, angst, miscomunication, Cypher being an annoying but good friend.

Warning: When it comes to exploring kinks and stuff, always talk to your partner first and ask for consent >:0!

[Hope you like it uwu!!]

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

Gekko's bounds tighten around his wrists when a sharp spike of pleasure racks down his spine and straight to his cock, flexing the muscles of his arms and thrusting his hips to chase after the delicious feeling.

Eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his extremities limited to no-movement, Gekko lets himself be drowned in the pleasure overwhelmingly consuming him with your wrist flicking up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm.

Your tongue connects to the head of his cock, slicking it with your spit before sucking him and bobbing your head up and down alongside your hand masturbating him fastly, tongue toying on the underside of his cock and mapping out every vein decorating it. He swallows back his groan when he feels the heat of your mouth, thrusting his hips until he hears you gag on his dick and the sound of you choking, trying to stuff your mouth with his cock, sends him into overdrive.

The only thought running through his mind right now is how good you look between his legs, naked, and burning him from the inside with those heavy red eyes of yours glowing in the dimly lit room while you suck him off.

The second thing running through his mind is how badly he wants to cum; and if it lands on your face, the better, that's just an extra to make one of his fantasies true.

You've deprived him from his orgasm for far too long; toying with him, edging him with no means of end, he cannot fathom waiting for longer with how fast he feels his climax approaching.

But the moment you see him about to break, you snatch your hand away, a malicious smile painting your features.

The makeshift gag at his mouth stops any attempt of begging for you to keep going. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes, and Gekko grunts in frustration, squirming under your weight and your burning gaze with no success of mercy.

“Look at you,” you whisper. The tip of your fingers run over the flushed head of his cock, biting your lower lip to stop a giggle when it twitches under your touch and the pre-cum rolls down the slit. “So pretty for me, Mateo, such a good boy.”

His moans are muffled behind the cloth on his mouth, and you cannot help but want to hear what he has to say after torturing him to fulfill your own desires.

Leaning over, you make a show of sliding your body against his as slowly as possible, enjoying his full attention and the neediness he obviously has for you. When you take the gag from his mouth, he tries to shove his face to reach for your lips, whining when you dodge and return to sitting on his thigh with your hands caressing his chest and flicking on his nipples to see him squirm.

“Please…” he mutters, breathing heavily. He seems about to burst out crying if you don't touch him anytime soon. “Please let me cum, I want to cum…”

Rolling your hips against his cock, you watch closely his lower lip tremble and his arms fight against the bounds attaching him to your bed frame when he feels his shaft slide in between your lower lips. You repeat the motion, Mateo gasps and thrusts his hips to feel the slickness covering his cock.

“Please!” He begs, groaning your name. “Please, I'll do anything! Just, let me—”

Grabbing the base of his cock, you don't let him finish the sentence when you slide him inside your cunt swiftly, cutting him off and making his words slurred to end up on a moan.

You gasp in pleasure at the same time, feeling him stretch you inch by inch until he is fully sheathed and pulsing against your walls. A whole shiver washes over you when the tip of his dick brushes against your most sensitive spot, squirming on top of him with the need to feel it again.

Gekko's tears roll down his cheeks, panting heavily and flushed with embarrassment when you wink at him and lick your lips in anticipation. The act on itself is so filthy that it does nothing but heighten his want to pleasure you above anything else.

To be reduced to this mess, tied to a bed, gagged and being controlled this heavily makes him shy, never believing himself to be into the dominant and submissive roles. But you make it easier on him, enjoyable to the point Gekko would let you do anything to him if you asked.

“You're so warm…” he mutters, eyelids heavy and pointendly observing where you're connected. He thrusts his hips, to test the waters and see if he can rile you up as payback. “So tight, ngh—”

Gekko sees you biting your lip, restraining your sounds and hands holding his hips down to stop him from moving. Your stare hardens when you cross sights, and a hand flies to his neck, fingers wrapping around his throat to put some pressure and using it as a leverage to lean in, cock sliding out slowly until only the head is still inside you.

“This alright, Mateo?” You ask, squeezing his throat softly. He nods, gasping.

“Please, yes.” Grunting, he does his best to stay still and not give in into his wishes to thrust his cock back.

“So polite.” Without further words, you slam your hips back down, hand squeezing his throat softly.

Gekko moans when you start bouncing on his dick, feeling the well-known tight knot start forming on his lower belly, burning him with the desire of release.

The plush of your thighs wraps around his waist to keep you in place when your desperation gets the better of you and begins accelerating the pace, choking him harder and throwing your head to the side while moaning out his name and maintaining eye contact throughout the whole exchange.

Gekko's groans get cut off when the pressure you apply makes the air stop circulating. It turns out he seems to like the rough treatment more than he anticipated, feeling his dick twitch inside your velvety walls when the suffocation gets to his head, heightening the pleasure and any other sensation coursing through his body.

“C'mon, Mateo,” your urge, bouncing eagerly now with the promise of a good show. “Hold on a little more. Be a good boy.”

Those words make him tremble with excitement, bucking his hips alongside yours and struggling against the binds unconsciously.

Gekko was drooling by this point, tongue peeking out and eyes rolled to the back of his head while being constantly stimulated by the suffocation and you fucking his brains out.

The slam of your hips is constant and wild, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit and the head of his cock brush against your g-spot everytime he thrust deeply.

The warmness spreading from your lower belly rushes faster than you anticipate, bursting from the overwhelming pleasure of getting off from his expression and how vulnerable he looks that your orgasm washes over you in waves of exhilarating bliss.

“Oh, Mateo!” You moan, hips still moving. “So good, baby, ah— so good.”

Gekko preens from your words, it’s enough for the tight knot to finally burst and become undone under your touch and stimulation.

Your hands weaken in grip when you cum all over his shaft, making him able to breathe and whimper shyly from climaxing on your words alone—he was getting lightheaded, dizzy, but that didn't lessen how much he loved being choked and how much pleasure racks his body with the aftershock of his orgasm.

He cums heavily, spurs after spurs of his semen decorating the insides of your walls and hips stuttering to keep the contact while he rides his climax with delight.

You're still riding him slowly, overstimulation coursing through your body but unable to stop; addicted to the way Gekko's cock feels inside you.

Once you're full of his cum and Gekko begs you to stop with a quivering voice, too sensitive he might start crying, is when you decide to lean in and unbind the rope that you tied him with, dick slipping out of your pussy with a lewd sound.

When he is finally free, Gekko's arms round your torso and gently turn the tables, laying you down on the mattress while he hovers over you with his face flushed and an enamored expression.

He seems tired, if not a little exhausted physically and mentally, but he makes sure none of it gets in his way to lean down and lock your lips in a soft kiss.

The feeling of his sweaty and naked body on top of yours, caging you and hands caressing your sides gently, as if you were the one who needed comfort, makes your heart throb with warmness and aching for his attention.

Gekko deepens the kiss, mouths slothing together and sliding one against the other sensually in this dance of passion. He sticks his tongue on your mouth, toying with yours and mapping out every crevice for him to remember; he cannot help but groan with excitement when your hands hold him around his shoulder and you scratch the back of his hair softly.

When air gets necessary, Gekko takes his distance, panting heavily and adoration swimming in his eyes while watching you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, thumb running on his lower lip.

Gekko nods, “Just sore,” he replies. His voice sounds a little hoarse, “I loved it.”

You smile, Gekko swoons.

“How about you?” he asks, a little nervous. “Did…did you like it?”

Humming, you nod, looking deeply into his eyes. Gekko's breath gets caught on his throat when you lean in and kiss his lips softly.

“You were amazing,” kissing him again, you sigh into his mouth before laying down onto the mattress. “I enjoyed it.”

Deep into the night, Gekko watches you fall asleep rather quickly.

Despite you taking control over him and the sex, you seeked shelter and comfort in him when it was over; it was cute. Your head was snuggled under his chin and right above his heart, sleeping peacefully and clinging to him—it makes his heart race with excitement.

He was holding onto you quite tightly, one hand soothingly running over your back and the other holding your hand laying on his chest.

There is silence, but he doesn't find it haunting like usual.

No nightmares, no headaches, just blissful peace and a hammering heart inside his ribcage; emotions swelling up and excitement coursing through his veins. The image of your face is enough to keep the thoughts at bay, smitten to the point he doesn't really want to think about anything else but what has transpired this night.

You snuggle up closer, hugging him tightly, and keep on sleeping.

Gekko sighs dreamily, squeezing your hand.

He won't think about tomorrow nor how this will affect the professional aspect of your relationship. He will indulge in this moment for as long as he can, even if it breaks his heart by the end of all.

—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—

You wake up alone and cold on the bed the next morning.

The covers are hiding your naked body, tucked away gently by your companion, but no signs of him in the near vicinity. When you look around the room, you find there are only your clothes thrown over the floor and your shades safely laying on top of your desk where you left it last night.

“Mateo?” you call out. Sitting on the bed, you try once again, “Gekko?”

No one answers.

Sighing to yourself, you stand from the bed to pick up the mess and, on the way, your sorrow for the outcome of the situation.

Is not like it was unexpected, this scenario has been presented to you every now and then before the protocol, but to think it would happen with Gekko is a disappointment to say the least.

Hurtful, if you may, after being blinded by Cypher's words of the sudden interest he might have had on you and you for believing it.

You fancy him now, and it is all Cypher's fault.

You take a shower, you dress up with your usual fit, and in less than fifteen minutes you're out of your bedroom with your shades on and a façade to protect your feelings if you were to cross paths with Gekko.

Thankfully, today’s schedule seems to be packed with a long mission and perhaps a couple days away on Pearl until you return with your assigned team and a secured spike for Killjoy to analyze.

Brimstone hasn't told you the details yet, and you don't think he will say anything else until the team is assembled and ready to go. You still have a couple of hours to prepare before setting off, and having the social battery low and with the intention to not cross paths with Gekko anytime soon, you decide to waste your time seeking the culprit of your demise at the only place you could think of.

Cypher is tinkering with his tech at Killjoy's lab, humming to himself a tune you're familiar with and ready to kick his chair off before he realizes you’re there.

You nod at Chamber who is sitting at the far back fixing one of his weapons, cringing slightly when he calls out your name and smiles…weirdly at you. You ignore him.

“So you've come to me,” he says without looking at you. You're upset you won't be able to catch him off guard. “What now, the sex wasn't good?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Cracking your knuckles, you still kick his chair in an attempt to make him pay attention to you. You hear him sigh, leaving his tool at the table and crossing his arms to look at you.

“Yes?” he asks.

“You were wrong.” Sitting across from him, you slump on the table and frown. You take off your shades to appear more intimidating but the other doesn’t seem to care much, “We had sex, but he is not in love with me.”

Shrugging, he goes back to his work. “If you believe so, then who am I to contradict you?”

“You were so convinced he loved me that I went to confront him about it.” Cypher sees you pout, which he finds funny, “Well, sort of. He never said he didn't love me, but he never mentioned anything about liking me either.”

“You understand what you're telling me is a conversation you could easily have with him to clear your doubts, am I right?” Cypher finishes with his tripwires and tosses them to the side. “Why come crying here, then? There is something else that is bothering you and that's why you're here.”

“I'm—I don't know?” Cypher cocks his head to the side, you know he is having fun watching you lose your mind over something so simple. “I was never interested in these…kinds of topics. God, I never thought I’d be involved with anyone here at the protocol to begin with, let alone have sex with them and develop an attachment from just one night.”

“Is it really that?” he asks, “Love at first sight is unlikely to be your situation, but love when having sex for the first time? Was his dick really that good? Should I ask for a try myself?”

Scrubbing your face with your hands, you sigh in frustration, “Cypher, don't be a moron now, please.”

He chuckles, raising his arms in surrender, “Listen, before our talk, it would have never crossed your mind to be interested in the kid as much as you do now. What changed? For starters, you don’t love him, do you?”

“I don’t.” is your reply, and you’re certain of it.

“You're interested in him now, aren’t you?”

You nod, “I find him attractive, he’s sweet, and you for certain should get a piece of that ass.”

“Oh? Charitable now, aren’t we? Maybe I will.”

“Don’t be stupid, I was kidding.”

“Dear, we’re diverting from the main problem here.” Cypher stores his tech onto a box and motions you to follow after him. “Shall we continue somewhere else?”

Standing up, you both follow the path from the lab to his room.

Only the echo of your steps alongside his are enough to fill in the silence, a little uncomfortable of continuing this conversation and to where it might lead. Despite this being your idea to sort out your thoughts more easily and have Cypher as your middle ground, you fear that this…one time thing with Gekko might have messed you up more than you intended to.

Cypher pats your back, “I can see you thinking way too hard, relax.”

“I don’t think I want to know what will happen with Gekko now.” You admit, sighing tiredly. “I’m getting overwhelmed by this situation when there is supposed to be no feelings involved.”

“Was that established before you had sex or after?”

“What do you mean by established?”

“Did you talk about your non-romantic feelings or what you expected from him before the sex?”

Mulling over his question, you realize that no, you never conversed nor set boundaries before it happened.

You were so desperate to get answers from him in any way, or any form, that your actions were faster than waiting to coax sentences from him.

“Aren't you a grown woman?” Cypher mocks, “You aren't a ten years old with a crush in middle school.”

“I don't have a crush on him.”

“I don't believe you, and you don't believe yourself either.”

“You're always so cryptic with your words, god, just tell me what you really think.”

Cypher sighs loudly, watching you from the corner of his eyes and observing your hands fidget while thinking. He takes pity, it must be hard for you to not have this under control and be stranded on unknown territory when it comes to emotions.

“Dear, I believe you've contradicted yourself many times today.” he begins, and you seem ready to argue back but he raises a hand to stop you, “You came to me crying about how I tricked you into thinking Gekko is interested in you, which I stand by, and then you are saying feelings weren't supposed to be involved.”

You shrug.

“What is it, then?” He asks, “Pursue the kid, or simply treat it like a one-night stand. What do you want?”

“I don't know, Cy, I don't know what to do.”

“You confronted Gekko last night because you had the upper hand. He likes you, and you know that. If anything were to go wrong, you would not be hurt by the end of it because he was unaware of what you felt for him, that's why you looked for him. There were going to be no consequences.”

“Shut up…”

“But now the roles have been reversed because you agreed to share an intimate moment with him. And now your feelings are being jeopardized because you think he is the one who played you and don't know how to feel about someone taking control over this matter.” Huffing in amusement, Cypher nods to himself. “I think I got a pretty good read on you.”

And he does. Despite not giving in and accepting it out loud, you are, to a fault, very controlling when it comes to aspects of your life.

This is why last night's dynamic worked really well with Gekko, because he lets himself be taken by you and follows your orders without hesitation,—and you loved it, you enjoyed being with him, and you think you've shared such intimacy that seeing him now will probably break you down.

“You're overthinking.”

You give a dry laugh, “Can't help it.”

“Give the kid some credit, talk to him.”

You walk past the common room in silence when he hears talking and arguing, slowing down in step when Gekko comes into vision while he talks with his fellow teammates.

The good thing about this hallway is the clear glasses for windows they've installed, giving you both a full picture of what might be happening inside the room without being too nosy.

As soon as you spot Gekko amongst the people inside, your pace accelerates, pulling Cypher by his jacket and janking him to your side to cover yourself from their sights.

Your heart is pounding, your hands are getting clammy, and the nervousness of being seen by Gekko after what happened and after he left without saying a word is enough to reduce you into a shy mess.

Killjoy's voice echoes in the hallway, pulling your attention and Cypher's towards her person who comes running to you with a bright smile on her face and a binder on hand, and completely ruins your attempt to escape.

You're happy to see her, but dread it when the noise inside the common room comes to a sudden stop.

“Brimstone is calling for a meeting! There has been a shutdown of our network so our devices aren't working until I reboot it. For now, I'm just a messenger.” Killjoy breathes out tiredly, turning to the windows and waving at the people inside. “You too, Gekko! You have ten minutes!”

With that, Killjoy leaves.

Whether Gekko was looking at you or not, you decide is not of your concern and drag Cypher away with you to the meeting room. The poor man yells in protest, but the hold on his arm doesn't waver, too determined to have him as your anchor.

Back in the common room, Gekko watches you walk away without any sign of acknowledgment and, deeply, is hurt by such a reaction from your person.

By now, he believed the breach that separated you two was shortened the moment you saved his life back at Icebox, sacrificing everything to bring him back home and probably part of your life as well.

When you kissed him, Gekko assured himself this is it. This was the act that settled everything and put his mind at rest, giving you who he is and more, unveiling a side of him he was too ashamed to admit or rather, didn’t know he had it in him.

Perhaps that was his mistake, assuming things would fall into place and Gekko will finally be able to express how much he fancies you without hurting himself in the process.

One night stand, he thinks grimly.

Shouldn't have let his hopes up.

—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—

Brimstone seems distressed, eye bags under his eyes and beard not trimmed to his usual style. His armor is off and so is his cute little red hat, giving him a look of wearing more years than he actually is.

You worry for him, but for the sake of the meeting and to not look like a mother hen, you hold back the need to reprimand him for the poor care he has taken of himself.

That, and Brimstone seems to be a good distraction so your eyes won't wander to where Gekko is currently sitting at.

“Is a week-long mission,” he begins. When no one says anything, he continues. “Killjoy has detected new waves of radianite from Pearl, is getting stronger the longer we talk and the Omega agents are already on its way.”

“Do we have supplies to survive a week on Pearl?” you ask. Brimstone grimaces at your question.

“Barely, and we will be scraping by.” Sighing, he checks a couple of papers on the table and presses a button on the side. The screen on the table lights up with a version of Pearl in 3D, A site and B site lighting up in red. “Beyond having provisions to feed us and weapons to protect us, what is playing against us is the rotations they’re going to be doing.”

Omen leans in, “Rotations to sites?”

“No, team rotations.”

Leaning forward, Jett cocks her head to the side, “What do you mean by team rotations?”

“They are bringing more than five people, but not all of them are allowed inside the place or else Kingdom will be on our asses.” The map rotates, and Brimstone signals the Omega's landing site with his pen. “There is a limit to where radiants can wander together without being detected nor looking suspicious. If Kingdom is able to track us down because of the strong centered vitals of radiants, we are all screwed.”

“And it doesn’t benefit them at all.” Omen finishes. Brimstone nods.

“Why don't we do the same thing?” Jett suggests. “Have our pals waiting on the sidelines if things seem to go grim?”

“We're sending teams to different missions, because Pearl is not the only place where radianite has been active and stronger.”

“But you said—”

Brimstone raises a hand, cutting her off. “Your only concern should be Pearl, these other places are for the rest of your teammates to worry about, so focus on what your task is.”

She nods reluctantly, “Of course Brim."

“Is going to be tiring, we will have to be 24/7 in alert and awake to any attempt of attacks.”

You tap onto the table, “This is what I don’t understand, if we’re being sent like the usual missions and we’re supposed to endure seven days of non-stop vigilance, how are they going to be able to attack different places if they are also limited in agents like we do? It doesn’t make sense.”

Brimstone watches as your question raises awareness throughout the agents in the room, the big incognita being: Is Pearl going to be under attack?

“Bind, Fracture, Lotus and Pearl.” The image of Pearl changes, reducing in size to let the mentioned places appear on sight. “We don’t know which one they are going to attack, that's why we are sending you all today to start protecting them.”

“It’s a gamble.” Omen points out.

Jett chimes in, “What if we retrieve the spike from them earlier than intended?”

“That's why it is a week-long mission. They won't stop until the radianite is stolen so replacements for the spike will be plenty,” Tapping the side of the table, the imagery turns off, “The radianite will keep increasing in radius power until it goes dormant again, that's why we need to stay for longer.”

“Will we be able to rest through the mission?” Gekko inquiries. “We can't defend the sites if we're sleep deprived.”

“You can rest between hours and in turns, but only one person per three hours.”

“Sentinels should be awake throughout the night to cover more space if you will be missing one man in combat.” Cypher comments, “They should be the first ones to rest once the first hours of combat are over.”

“That's righ—, Cypher? You are not supposed to be here.” Brimstone takes a double take on his files, and sure enough, he wasn't assigned for Pearl, rather Bind. “We will still have a meeting in an hour, please, I'll have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh, Brim, how can you ask me to leave my beautiful duo? Separating us is just beyond cruel.” Cypher, in an attempt to piss off Gekko, lays his hand above yours on the table, and squeezes it softly. “Say, I can swap places with Killjoy if she wants. I bet Raze would be more than happy to be together on Bind.”

Gekko does seem a little confused at his actions and, mostly, pissed off, a scowl on his mouth and glaring at where Cypher is touching you. But of course, you don't see any of this, too irritated by his attitude to truly pay attention to your surroundings.

Brimstone shakes his head, tired and frustrated by his insubordination. Waving his hand away, he dismisses the meeting.

“The jet is ready, go grab weapons, clothes and stuff you might need and are only necessary. Omen, please meet up with Sage before you set off with the rest of your team.”

“Understood.” the wraith replies.

“Cypher.”

“Yes?”

“You're still assigned to Bind. I don't need you to start switching places just because you feel like it.”

Your friend shrugs, whispering a soft 'I tried.' He is very lucky your stare can't kill, or else he would have been pulverized by now.

The agents leave the meeting room one by one, mulling to themselves whatever they might need and simply too absorbed in their thoughts.

You stand alongside Cypher, ready to reprimand him for saying stupid shit but a hand on your wrist stops you dead in your tracks, turning to see Gekko holding you gently and with a nervous expression on his face.

“Hey.” he says, eyes crinkling on the sides when he smiles at you. “Got a minute to talk?”

Words get stuck in your throat, unable to open your mouth and reply like a normal human being, but try to act as calm as possible to not let him know how dreadful this greeting is starting to feel.

“Sorry, friend, she's mine until you leave.” Cypher takes your arm and gently tugs you away. Gekko's hand falls to his side clenching on a fist, and an unreadable expression paints his features until you are out of vision.

But by the time you decide to say anything, your friend has already pulled you far away and tucked you safely into his room instead.

“Dear, look at me.” Cypher takes the time to leave your shades above your head, thumb caressing your chin until you look into his light blue orbs. Despite being masked, you can see the outlines of a smile. “Are you okay about this?”

“I can’t really say no to Brimstone.” You reply. “Maybe I should forget about last night and pretend nothing happened, for the sake of our team."

“If that's the case, you need to speak to him either way,” Looking at the clock, he sighs. “Don't give him hopes, and don't ruin a working relationship with someone who is going to be stuck with us for the years to come. Is not…convenient.”

“I think it’s already too late for that advice.”

He chuckles, “Better clear things up now than later.”

Rolling your eyes, you nod.

A week to think, despite having him there. A week to figure out if you want to pursue love, even when vulnerable.

A week.

“You have to leave, Brimstone is already pissed at me, I don't want to give him another reason to smite me.”

Laughing, you bump his shoulders with yours. “Sure he will.”

—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—

Taking your device might not be a necessity, even less now that the network is being rebooted and no one knows when it will start working again.

Besides that, you change into comfortable clothes and bring a jacket for the cold nights. You're assuming the times you rest might be inside the jet on your landing site, and that vehicle is the worst place to sleep on, let alone warm enough to sleep comfortably.

Sighing tiredly, you survey your room and decide that's all you're gonna need for now. Food, toiletries and that kind of stuff might not be necessary for you to take, you suppose they have that covered, so with nothing else to take into account, you leave.

On your way to the landing site, Cypher joins in your walk, toying with a tripwire and simply accompanying you in silence.

When you raise your brow, curious about his presence here instead of the reunion Brimstone wanted him in, he shrugs nonchalant, feigning confusion.

“Must have forgotten,” is what he replies. “Besides, I already know what this is about. Having to listen to the same thing twice? Not thanks.”

“Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

Once the jet is visible, you have to breathe in slowly to calm down your nerves.

Cypher's presence is comforting, but not enough to ignore Gekko's person standing next to the weapon storage, cleaning the barrel of his pistol.

He hasn't seen you yet, and is a miracle none of his creatures are out and about to cheer up the mood before you're set to go on the longest mission ever.

“Your gun is already on the jet.” Cypher comments. “I left a little gift for you, too, hope it helps.”

Huffing a laugh, you nod, “Thank you, Cy.”

“Don't, this is what friends are for, yes?” Cypher doesn't wait for an answer before closing the distance, looking down at you because of the size difference and puffing out his chest in pride. He looks ridiculous.

“What is it?” You ask, concerned.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers, holding one of your hands. His robotic blue eyes look deeply into yours, and you don't know where this is coming from, but you nod as an answer.

Cypher gently guides you against his body, one arm circling around your waist, taking his hat with the other to rest his masked forehead against yours. You lean against him, hands holding onto his jacket and smiling softly.

He holds you like this for a couple of seconds, the longest in your life when you cannot help but feel comfortable enough to be sharing such closeness with who you consider your best friend.

“Gekko is watching,” he says, and you feel nervousness rush over your body at the statement. “Keep up the act, and then go straight to the jet, alright? Don’t look at him, just me.”

“Okay.”

When you part ways, he makes a motion of kissing your hand, and you snort, flipping his hat when he puts it back.

“You dork.”

“Always the gentleman.” he replies.

You bid him goodbye and do as you're told, going straight to the stairs leading you to the entrance of the jet and barely looking at Gekko's direction to avoid his pointed stare.

Cypher stays in place, watching the other agents follow after you when they're done preparing their weapons and are ready to set off.

Gekko stays behind, still frozen in place and glaring at Cypher with an unknown emotion swimming in his eyes. When the sentinel nods in his direction, saluting him in what could be considered as mocking, Gekko can't help the sudden anger that flows through his veins and flips him off, turning around and jogging to the jet without looking back.

Chuckling, Cypher leaves, listening to the engines of the vehicle turn on and barely glancing behind to see it take off.

His job is done, now it is up to Gekko to amend things with you if he's brave enough or else, accept his fate as it is and lose you forever.

It was never in his plan to take his act further than to piss him off, he fears he might have given the wrong idea instead of pushing Gekko to his limits so he can act upon his wishes.

In a week he will have his answer.

In love and war, anything is valid.

#seneitut writes #gekko x reader #gekko smut #valorant fanfiction #valorant smut #cypher x reader

209 notes · View notes

interlagosed · 7 months

Text

Las Vegas Revenge Fantasy (just a little bit of it for now! I might write more and depending on how long it gets I’ll upload it to AO3)

“Bet you won’t.”

“Lando,” Carlos grunted, inserting an impressive warning edge into two syllables that were more noises than anything else.

Lando figured he should be a bit nicer. Carlos had had a time of it. But maybe it was losing the Netflix Cup that gave him the additional push to keep prodding Carlos.

Well, that, and the desire to see justice done for his husband and the rest of the drivers. But if anyone asked, it was definitely the Netflix Cup. And anyway, Carlos looked so despondent—even though his eyes were undeniably full of rage, and he held his mouth in a way that tried to hide a snarl. Even now, sitting on a sofa with his eyes closed and head tipped back in a facsimile of exhaustion, Carlos’ hands were clenched on either thigh.

Ah, fine. He also just wanted to see Carlos really pissed off.

So Lando leaned forward in his own seat and put his hands on Carlos’ clenched fists. He smiled his sweetest smile, the one that he knew would make Carlos melt; and sure enough, when Carlos lifted his head to appraise Lando, his eyes softened. He almost even smiled. But then—

“Bet you fucking won’t. Coward,” Lando purred.

Carlos’ eyes blazed again.

“Ay, Lando,” he said, his voice sharper, and Lando just grinned.

“Prove me wrong, then, if you’re not a coward. Pick up that phone, and send that text.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Lando almost wondered if he’d gone too far. Almost. But then Carlos clenched his jaw even more, and his hand snapped his phone lightning fast up from the console beside him. He didn’t unclench his jaw until he had finished furiously typing into his phone—and he typed for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, his jaw slackened and he leaned back against the sofa again, exhausted.

“I did it.”

Lando beamed and pulled his own phone from his pocket. Sure enough, he had a notification from the driver’s group chat:

-Hi guys. I don’t like making things like this a big deal but […]

“Do you think it’s stupid? Did I write it badly?” Carlos asked, his eyes still closed. But Lando just typed:

-meet @ carlos suite. 1 hour. bring snacks n drinks.

The likes started popping up, first on Carlos’ message, and then on Lando’s.

“Lando?”

“Mate, just look at your phone,” Lando chirped happily, and Carlos groaned and did so. His eyes widened.

“I didn’t think—”

“I think everyone’s been waiting for an excuse,” Lando explained. He rested his cheek on his sweet, angry husband’s thigh, and smiled up at him. Carlos’ eyes softened once more as he looked at Lando, and he even leaned forward to thread his fingers through Lando’s curls. Lando resisted the urge to shiver. “None of us are really happy. ‘sides from maybe Daniel. But I don’t think he likes feeling left out, anyway.”

“It will be huge if Lewis can come,” Carlos mused. “But maybe he will feel like he cannot go against his team? Same with George…”

“They’ll come,” Lando said flatly. “They like you.”

“Ay, it’s not about that—”

“I know,” Lando said, moving to catch Carlos’ fingers between his lips. “It’s about a lot of things. But babe, everyone likes you. And they know what happened to you could have been fucking scary. It could have happened to any of us, but it happened to you. They’ll all come.”

“And you?” Carlos asked, his smile wider now. “Will you come?”

“I’m not missing the party of the year,” Lando sniffed. Carlos laughed, low and earnest, and Lando nuzzled his fingers. He was cognizant now of being on the ground, at his husband’s feet, his face on Carlos’ thigh, Carlos’ fingers so tantalizing in his hair, against his lips. It would be so easy to just—

Carlos’ phone buzzed, and Carlos and Lando broke apart. When had they started kissing? Carlos sighed and reached for his phone, while Lando quietly got off Carlos’ lap, wondering at his own lack of restraint.

“It’s Seb,” Carlos said, surprised. He picked up the phone while Lando started looking around Carlos’ suite. Ah, shit, the lube. They needed to put that way somewhere. Where did they leave the plu—

“Wow. Thank you, Seb,” Lando heard Carlos laugh, genuine appreciation in his voice. “Thank you. And yes, I’m okay. I think we all wish you were here this weekend. Thank you again. Bye.”

“What?” Lando asked as he meandered to the bathroom and saw more evidence of his and Carlos’ debauchery. He sighed and set about cleaning the bathroom.

“He’s going to give interviews on our behalf so we can stay quiet the whole time,” Carlos said, and he sounded truly excited. “We won’t need to talk to anyone. We can just be here.”

Lando smiled widely. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pushing Carlos. “Then make yourself useful and clean this place up,” Lando called. “We’ve got guests coming!”

“Lewis is getting drinks,” Carlos said, laughing, completely ignoring Lando. “And Checo said he’s getting everyone dinner. Nando said he will let only Spanish media know. George says he will be late, but he’s going to have someone make a statement for the GPDA. Lando! This is happening!”

“I told you that,” Lando sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile at Carlos’ excitement. He wanted to kiss Carlos, but someone had to be useful and clean.

Oh, fuck. He wouldn’t be able to kiss Carlos.

“Beds!” Carlos suddenly yelped. “Where will people sleep?!”

“Tell someone to figure it out!” Lando called back. Carlos’ excitement (and hysteria) was infectious.

“Okay. Okay. I will do this.”

Lando just kept smiling. And cleaning.

So much fucking cleaning.

#hibi writes #f1 RPF #Vegas driver’s strike fic

71 notes · View notes

necros-writing-stuff · 5 months

Text

Read this fic. Went feral. Decided I needed to write this dynamic in my own way so here we fucking go.

Younger AU (Eden is 19, reader is 18, they're both orphans getting ready to run away into the forest soon).

Male Eden x AFAB reader (they/them and you pronouns).

Warnings: Eden is the victim, its his POV. Dubcon and bad communication. Creampies/breeding. Mentions of past child abuse and the trauma from it. Hurt and only one of you is getting comfort (it's not Eden lmfao). Loss of virginity. My ass did not proofread. Oh, and Bailey mentions.

Every ounce of his body aches as he practically crawls up the main staircase of the orphanage. A twelve hour shift at the scrap yard will do that to you - especially when you're the young grunt everyone knows is desperate for money. Especially when half of them know that if they break him, if he quits and can't placate the caretaker with cash, they could be buying his ass for a few quid.

Eden's a risk to client health. Couldn't be charging much for him unless broken bones were the desired outcome. And the young man had heard enough rumours of illegal fighting rings to be wary of the possibility that he could be heading to one of them, instead.

Eden tries to shake the fears from his mind while cracking his aching neck. Not anymore. He can't be hurt anymore, not now that he's grown so big. The rat that runs the orphanage hasn't beat him in years because of it and any threats are pretty much empty. Toward Eden, at least.

He reaches his room and stumbles through the threshold yawning, almost missing the shape distorting his bedsheets in the dark. His heart doesn't speed up seeing it, the dark haired man barely even flinches. He already knows what it is, can already hear the sniffling whines coming from below.

Carefully, he pushes the door closed, the click of the lock what finally gets them to scramble out from the cheap polyester-blend sheets with wettened wide eyes that scream for mercy even though no harm has come to them.

Your name is soft on his lips as he holds his arms out, letting his friend fall against him as he steps closer. Pride building within himself as those wide eyes sparkle with relief even if the tears don't stop.

"They- they took Emma a-again," you hyperventilate, struggling to describe what had worked you up so badly. Little words were needed anyway.

Emma was situated in the room beside you. A good friend, a kind friend who shared whatever food she could, when she could. A friend who had barely lived through the last time she was sold.

Eden's large hand comes to the back of your head, cradling it delicately, urging it to rest against his chest as he hushes his dear friend, his sweaty work t-shirt absorbing your tears as they fell. Usually he'd rock you side-to-side, but with your legs still kneeling on the bed he instead kept up with his calming mantras, the assurances he must have muttered a thousand times.

He wasn't good with words, but he'd said these ones enough that they came naturally.

A thousand more times he'd repeat them if he had to. At least until he could get you out of here. He'd been searching for the right place out in that forest, searching hard for somewhere safe. Anywhere safe.

"They're going to take me soon," you whimper, voice cracking as your fingers claw at Eden's clothed back.

"Hey - hey, no. No they won't, I'm not going to let that happen. Me and Bailey both, yeah?"

Your pitiful eyes stare up into his, his reflection in them showing the concerned frown etched into his features. Still, the corners of your lips quiver as you continue.

"I just turned eighteen. He'll come for me soon; he'll come for me like he did everyone else."

It had always been the three of you. Him, Bailey, you. Two older brothers with their sweet little sibling they did their best to hide behind them. It had worked, so far.

You were one of the quiet ones. One of the kids who could fly under the radar, one who didn't inspire hatred from the old toad behind the desk. Unlike Eden and Bailey. The threat of being sold had been over their heads for a year - but the beatings had started way before then. Made them much less scared than the others who were moved to this wing. They were already numb to it.

Corraling you to lay back down doesn't take much effort, not when Eden kicks off his steel-toe boots and joins you on the lumpy mattress. Your head immediately rests on top of his chest, face nuzzling against his neck as he continues to let you treat him as your lifeline.

"We won't be here long enough for him to hurt you, alright? I'm going to keep you safe." He whispers it against the crown of your head, your little secret shared just between the two of you in that moment.

There's a non-committal hum from you, the sound making your lips brush softly against the column of his throat. It tickles, and the dark haired man ignores the shiver it sent down his spine. Just an accidental brush.

A silence creeps in while he holds you, your sobs calming until your breaths are mostly even though still a bit shaky. Each puff blows against his skin, tugging on his nerves and threatening another shiver to come forth. It makes his stomach heavy, knowing that you're here, you're upset, yet he's having this horrible involuntary response to the affection shared.

His mind being so lost is what makes him miss your hand inching down his chest until its cupping his half-hard cock through his pants.

Deathly silence. Silence that prickles his skin worse than your little breaths had.

"... I don't want someone taking my first time from me," your small voice strains.

It's clumsy, how your hand palms him. Clumsy how it rubs against him, the friction of his rough clothes unpleasant against his sensitive flesh. It should be unpleasant how its you doing it, yet another shiver stutters Eden's lungs and forces him to gasp for the missing air.

Those soft, sweet lips meet his throat again, playing ignorant to the scratchy stubble that has to irritate the thin skin - Eden's involuntary gasp seemingly being taken as encouragement.

The young man isn't good with words. He knows to curse out abusers. Knows to fight back, to snarl and kick and punch. You aren't an abuser. You're just scared.

"You love me, right Eden?" Reedy is how you sound as your head lifts, peering down into his green eyes you had once said you thought were a pretty shade. He hadn't believed you then.

Something should be coming out of his throat. Something like 'Yes, I love you. But not like this.' What comes out instead is a clicking noise when your palm presses down once more, the dark haired man's eyes blinking shut as an ounce of pre-cum wets his boxers.

Clothes shuffling calls for his attention, it opens his eyes enough to see your hand sliding below his waistband and into his underwear. All he needs to do is gently grab your wrist. Carefully pull it away and just cuddle you so you know he cares, but he doesn't want this. Eden can't really feel his arms right now.

Your pink little tongue wets your lips again before you lean over him, kissing his slightly chapped ones as your hand finds its mark.

Another gasp from him, another misread response you take as permission to keep going and to flick your tongue against his own while your fingers wrap about his now pitifully hard cock. It's not a shiver this time, it's a jolt that makes the muscles in his left thigh seize for a brief moment.

It's hard to say if you're doing good. He hasn't exactly had any positive experiences in this department, regardless of if he was sold or not. It feels good. The heaviness in his stomach deepens, a sense of guilt and nausea rising in tandem.

Slick noises register in his ears. For a second Eden thinks its himself, or perhaps the kiss he isn't really participating in. It isn't, though, not if your weak moans are anything to go by. It's you, your free hand having disappeared beneath your own pants to... to prepare yourself for him.

"You're so big, Eden." Irreverent, whispered, praised.

Tightness pulls on his balls, licks of pleasure making his toes curl in their socks and making it harder to breathe. His mouth is so dry now, without you kissing him. He shouldn't want your mouth back on his own.

'Please be bored,' Eden pleads to himself when you pull yourself fully away from him. 'Please change your mind - I don't care about still being hard. I can't say no to you, please.'

Instead, your pants are shucked off, thrown and discarded on the old hardwood floor along with your shirt as you get to work pulling his clothes off.

Every action has to be involuntary. It has to be, when Eden doesn't even feel like he's here. He can't be leaning up to help you in your quest to make his chest bare. But he is. He can't be raising his hips to free his legs of the clothing. But he is.

Unsteadily, your body shaking, you climb atop Eden, the plush of your thighs pressing down onto his lower abdomen and hips. So soft, so precious. Just like the smile you're aiming down at him, that love you spoke of shining so clearly through your expression.

He can see the wetness of your cunt from here, the slick liquid having spread to your thighs and dampening the hair down there. Most people shave now, when they're expecting things like this. A small comfort, that you didn't plan this. It didn't stop self hatred banging around his skull at how his cock jumped when your fingers spread your lower lips apart.

It feels as soft as it looked when you slowly sink down. Eden was still paralysed, despite the intensity of your heat and how it suctioned him in. He still couldn't move. Until you whined in pain and rose from his lap an inch or two.

That's the trigger that gave him his strength back. You, in pain. You, needing comfort.

Shooting up from his laying position, Eden's arms were around your waist in a second, his voice back to hushing and comforting. Your face back to his neck as you hummed along to his words, relaxing once more as you tried again.

He should stop you. He could have stopped you, this time. He shouldn't have pushed his hips up, shouldn't have let his eye twitch at how fucking good you felt wrapped around his shaft as some part of his brain screamed at him to fuck up into the heaven he found himself in.

The guilt stayed his movements. It stayed them until you cautiously began to bounce, used to the stretch of him now and eager to feel good. Then, Eden's arms almost crushed you against his chest, halting your hips as his own began a bucking rhythm.

'Let it feel right,' part of him insisted, raising the pit in his stomach to a calm plateau.

Pretty is what your voice sounds like in his ear. Pretty as you babble on about how nice it is, how he fills you just right and how you won't let anyone else ever touch you again. How you're his, you promise.

It's not a bad thing, right? It just means you'll always need him, just as you have before. You'll be a constant even as things change. And Eden hates change. But this isn't really change, is it?

It feels too damn good to last long. Too great, too much suction pulling his head further and further away from any semblance of reason.

Wanton noises spill from you, high pitched keening as you take every inch of him you can while your body quivers in his embrace.

What finally pushes Eden over the edge is the predictable, suffocating ever tightening walls of your cunt spasming around him - massaging his length and milking him dry of his seed. Too late now to realise you hadn't used a condom. Too late now to consider that a third might be coming to the forest with them that isn't Bailey.

Exhaustion hits him like a truck, not just his body, but a deep haze over his mind that pushes him back down to his pillow with your sweat glistening body falling on top of his own. The ceiling is so bare. Most ceilings are, he realises, just white voids to stare up at unless they've got that horrible popcorn shit on them. You haven't pulled him out of you.

You don't pull him out of you. You keep him there, even as you snuggle close and almost sing your love to him despite the fact that you're whispering still.

He has work again in the morning. Eden can't sleep. You snore softly, resting on top of him. He tries to reason that it's because his socks are still on, and that's just not comfortable. He tries to keep his breathing calm, even when it's trying it's best to run away from him.

#spill my guts #eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity #necro's fics #afab reader #cw dubcon #younger au

52 notes · View notes

dixbolik-lovers · 1 year

Note

S boys dirty talking (and degrading themselves) begging to have their asses ravaged, maybe a contrast between how it was the first time they had to reluctantly do it vs after they break and beg on their own cause they just need it so badly ♥️

Shuu

It's too much of a pain to make him beg, isn't it? Shuu is reluctant both because of laziness and his own dignity, but if you tease him enough, arousal wins out over his pride. His pleas are more demanding and frustrated than genuine— so of course, you make him ride you to prove how badly he wants your cock. The moment he breaks and complies with that humiliating order, he knows he's truly reached the point of full, shameless desperation.

Reiji

He has far too much dignity to beg easily... at least until he's deep in the kind of headspace where obeying orders comes before all else. Reiji is still beyond ashamed of himself for doing it, but when all he can think of is pleasing you, he'll eventually comply. His begging is laughably proper and stiff, at first— it takes some time for him to get used to giving in to these new desires, and expressing just how badly he wants you to tear him apart.

Ayato

At first, he insists that there's no way his superior self would ever beg for something like that. Ayato is already terribly embarrassed by what you're doing to him— begging is just too much. But when you praise and encourage everything that comes close to what you want, eventually, he ends up complying a lot faster than he's proud of. And he begs pretty; all flushed cheeks and needy pleas to fuck him harder, go deeper, make him scream from it.

Kanato

Expect tears and screeching long before you ever get him to beg. Kanato is very upset about the whole situation, and that leads to plenty of complaints. His first time begging for it is more like screaming orders... but soon enough, he's whimpering through broken sobs that he needs you to wreck him. He's not at all happy that he's sunk so low, but when you very literally fuck the distress right out of his pretty little head, it's hard to care too much.

Laito

It's easy enough for him to beg— after all, wouldn't a pervert enjoy what you're doing to him? The biggest contrast between Laito's initial lewd pleas and how he ends up is how genuine it is. At first, he's merely spewing his usual dirty talk to appease you, but eventually, it's all his own desperate arousal making him beg so sweetly. It was barely reluctant the first time (save for some lingering shreds of dignity), but by now, he obviously likes it.

Subaru

He's way too embarrassed to beg for a long, long time. It's just too much to say that stuff! ...at least until the right moment has him shouting at you to hurry up and fuck him. After that, it's a slow slide into not caring about things like shame. Subaru remains frustrated (and volatile because of it) for quite a while, but eventually, when he's turned on to the point of deliriousness, his pleading gets much sweeter, and much more willing.

Kino

It's easier for him to use sarcasm to lessen the blow of begging, at first. Kino, of course, tries to make an absolute pest out of himself with the whole thing. You want him to beg? He'll do it in a way that mocks you instead. And yet, when he's truly fucked stupid, his pleas turn whiny and desperate instead of rude. He's a needy brat, in the end, and he doesn't take teasing or denial well at all— those things are what will break him down the fastest.

#Diabolik Lovers #Dialovers #Sakamaki Shuu #Sakamaki Reiji #Sakamaki Ayato #Sakamaki Kanato #Sakamaki Laito #Sakamaki Subaru #Kino #Headcanon #Reader #Sub Au #Lemon

261 notes · View notes

heleentje · 1 year

Text

Revalink week day 5: Paraglider

A day late, but I'm glad I got this out!

In loving memory of that time I started a new save of botw, got to the cryonis shrine, and killed myself by jumping down because I'd forgotten I didn't have the paraglider yet.

The hill felt perfect, though for what exactly, Link couldn’t tell. It is meager consolation: when no reassuring tug jolts his shoulders to break the plummeting sensation of freefall, he realizes just how badly his memory has failed him again.

Ah.

Later, when he’s gingerly prodding at his bruised ribs and the scrapes his tumble earned him, he gives it some thought. What exactly made him think jumping was safe?

Really, the answer is obvious.

The paraglider in the old man’s hands had filled Link with a profound sense of wrongness. It was ill-suited to the man’s size, the delicate frame looking like it should break under the weight. More than that, Link had taken one look at it and known he’d wanted it, more fiercely than anything he’d wanted in his half day of memories. But even that fierce longing doesn’t explain his sudden recklessness. It doesn’t explain the vivid sense-memory he gets whenever he looks at the nearby hills and the far-off mountains, the tug of desire to make it to the highest peaks only to feel the rush of descent again.

It must have been his, then. He wants it back.

The thought of having it in his possession again spurs him on. He fights his way past the monsters with skills only half-remembered and climbs to the top of the icy mountains to reach the last of the shrines the old man indicated. When he emerges again, the power of a new rune in the Sheikah Slate, the old man appears with the paraglider and more empty promises in hand. He thinks of taking it by force, and only barely quells the urge. Then he thinks of jumping down the mountain again, and somehow that urge is even harder to fight.

When he finally has it in hand again, after a trek to the very top of the temple, he finds that he cannot even enjoy it. The revelations of the old man — of the king — weigh him down. The castle in the distance is no longer an abstract danger he planned to avoid, but the embodiment of his own failure. How is he supposed to succeed on his own where an entire army failed in the past?

At least the feeling of flight, of the wind rushing past his face, is enough to distract from it for a moment until inevitably, his feet touch the ground outside the Great Plateau. That night, when he has reached the first stable on his journey and has learned not to flinch whenever people’s voices get too loud, he takes out the paraglider again. The wood has been treated by an expert hand; the cloth has been made so well that neither rain nor heat affect it. Still, it is not new: time has had its effect on the paraglider as well. He begs needle and thread off another traveler and finds that his hands remember the action of darning.

He does not remember the symbol woven into the cloth.

“Looks like something from the Rito,” says the innkeeper. “There’s this Rito bard who comes around every so often. If you stick around, I’m sure you can catch him.”

Bird people, something in Link’s deeply buried memories says. It would make sense, for them to be the ones to create a way for a Hylian to fly. Up on the Great Plateau, he had seen the menacing shape of a giant bird circling the western reaches of Hyrule. His feet wish to take him there. But he has to continue his journey towards Kakariko Village. So he does not wait for the elusive Rito bard, but instead takes the path further north from the stable.

Lady Impa’s words at least give him an excuse to seek out the Rito. They also give him a name.

Champion Revali of the Rito. The words stir little within him, but they sound as if they should. He fought side by side with the Champions. So was the Rito Champion a friend of his, someone who would give him the tools to take to the sky?

It takes days and days before he can even find out. The plains of Central Hyrule are treacherous and leave him no chance to use the paraglider; the eternal thunderstorm above the Thundra Plateau makes flight a hazard. Even the mountains of Tabantha, so inviting from afar, are buffeted by harsh winds that would crush him against the cliffside given the chance.

But at least he gets there in the end.

Rito Village would be idyllic if it weren’t menaced by the Divine Beast Link spotted all the way back on the Great Plateau. No memory comes to him as he enters the village either, but that’s okay, because near the top of the spiralling staircase, he finally finds what he was looking for, in chipped paint on wood: the same symbol woven into the cloth of his paraglider.

Revali’s Landing.

This must be it, he thinks, elation making him light-headed. And then his memories finally catch up to him and crush his delusions to dust.

If Champion Revali was an ally of his, it was only in the most technical of senses. The Champion saw no worth within him, felt no desire to take to the sky and fight side by side with him. The trail he’s been chasing for so long is a dead end. Champion Revali could never have been the one to give him the paraglider.

He sits down heavily, hands clutching the cloth of the paraglider. Whoever gave it to him must have seen some worth within him regardless. But Rito history is short and fleeting. Their name, and who they were to Link, are long lost to time. All he has of them is this one gift and the freedom it has afforded him.

#RevalinkWeek2023 #revalink #botw #heleen writes #so did revali give link the paraglider?#yes obviously #link just doesn't have the context to figure that out yet #me @ anything to do with textiles: okay ginneke will be able to explain this to me

77 notes · View notes

thornsnvultures · 2 years

Text

set a flame ♡

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Having to hide your relationship because of your status as a commoner, you and Prince James "Bucky" Barnes meet in secret in an old hunting cabin far from the rest of the world. Except, of course, from Sir Steve Rogers, a loyal knight and Bucky's best friend.

Words: 3k

Warnings: secret relationship, threesome, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), knife kink, some body descriptions (plus size reader)

a/n: took some inspiration from the prompts for @buckysbirdie 's ice cream shop writing challenge & @fineanddandy 's 3k/35 3s birthday collection. title from altar by kehlani which I listened to a lot while writing this. moodboard by me, divider by @firefly-graphics

@historygeekfics 💝

unbeta'd and edited by me, so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't :)

18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.

"You're here."

A sudden rush of hair fills your lungs, your body tenses all over when you hear your prince's voice.

"Bucky."

With cautious footsteps his broad form leaves the rotted doorway of the ancient cottage and approaches you slowly like he would a wounded deer.

It would be comical if you didn't feel as frightened as you do. Like you could spook or do any harm at all this beast of a man in front of you.

"My love."

Your breath shudders from your chest as he reaches a hand out to you, opening his arms enough for you to run to them, to fit in between them like you belonged there.

The furs that line his cloak have trapped in the heat from the castle, saving them so Bucky could gift them to you now as you nuzzle in close to his chest.

With a sigh from your lips Bucky finally relaxes.

"I'm sorry I took so long, my love. Why did you not open the hearth? It's freezing in here."

You look up from his chest to where his brow is furrowed.

"I didn't want to start the smoke early and draw attention to our location. Hiding hasn't been easy of late, you know that."

Bucky only grunts and presses a kiss to your head. He pulls his cloak from his shoulders and wraps you in the luxurious velvet and furs.

His arms are as thick as the logs he throws into the hearth. You watch as he rolls his sleeves and stacks them just so before lighting the kindling. It takes a few moments for the fire to really get going. Once Bucky's satisfied he comes to you, lightly coated in soot, lifts you and places you on the bedroll situated on the floor by the fire.

"Better?"

With his big body sandwiching you between him and the flames?

"Much. Thank you."

His thick fingers draw away the hair that rests at the nape of your neck. A light press of his lips has a shudder running down your body all the way to your toes until they're curling in your shoes.

"I've missed you, my love."

The scrape of his stubble rubs against your tender flesh as he whispers into your neck.

"I've missed you too. Why did it take you so long to come to me tonight?"

Bucky's hand leaves your hair to tug on your shoulder, wordlessly asking you to turn to lay on your back, to face him.

The moonlight sneaking through the windows of the cabin only partially illuminates his face, shining on the sharp crystal blue of his eyes.

"What is it, my prince?"

Bucky doesn't answer. Those eyes continue to search your face, run the length of your nose to land on your plush lips. You can feel his desire pulsing through him as the two of you lie under his cloak. His body shifting closer, clinging to you like a second skin. The tip of his pink tongue swipes out against his full bottom lip and you want so badly for him to kiss you.

And like he's reading your mind, your prince does.

Soft and gentle at first, morphing into a deep claiming of your mouth. A man starved, filling you with his tongue, taking your own into his mouth.

"Bucky," you gasp. "My love, please."

He groans, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hand moves to your breast. The thin fabric of your dress is easily torn, pulled apart by your beast in search of your pert nipples.

Bucky finds them with his fingers first, tugging them till they're firm and aching as he grinds his own hardness into your hip.

You're not sure if he's aware he's doing it but his gasps into the curve of your neck only spur more wetness to leak from your core.

The rasp of his fingers against your breast are soon soothed by his laving tongue, hot and wet in the cool air.

"Yes! Bucky," you gasp as he grabs handfuls of your breasts, squeezing them together to lick from one nipple to the other. He groans, smothering his face in your softness, nipping and sucking at your breasts, marking them as his.

Strands of chestnut brown fall free from the bun tied at the nape of his neck as you tug on his hair, the loose tendrils tickling your skin.

"My prince, please. I need you. Touch me, please," you beg and beg, babbling from pleasure. But Bucky doesn't say a word. He feasts from your tits like a babe, suckling and groaning.

Your pleading turns incoherent as he climbs atop you. His length now pressing at the apex of your thighs, pressing into the barrier of your skirts like he's trying to dig you out of their depths.

The heat in your womb builds, churning, making your head spin until the damn breaks and your screaming, spasming against Bucky's overbearing form pressing you into the floor.

"That's it. That's it, my love. Fuck, you're so beautiful."

When the molten waves finally subside you're gasping for air, chest exposed and heaving under your prince's watchful eye.

"An angel. A gift from the heavens."

You see a flash of silver on your left, almost imperceptible through your half-lidded, hazy eyes. But you know from the swift sounds of tearing and the cool slide of metal against your skin that Bucky's drawn his dagger and sliced clean through the middle of your dress to your skirts. Your eyes snap open, taking in the shocking sight of his sharp dagger laying on your soft tummy as he works to slide off the remnants of your dress. The hilt of the blade lies between your breasts, waiting near your heart for its owner to pick it up once again.

"Did you have to ruin my dress though?"

"I'll buy you three more," Bucky leans down to kiss you, once again taking his dagger in hand and twirling it in his nimble fingers before sheathing it. "Better ones even, if you'd like."

"That's not the point," you huff, mourning the loss only briefly before you're imaging wrapping yourself in furs that match Bucky's own. Making a statement to whom you belong.

"Oh, but you look so pretty when you pout," Bucky taps your lower lip. His thick finger pulls it down the slightest bit and you're already opening your mouth wide, inviting him inside.

Your prince slides his finger down your tongue, filling you slowly until he tickles the back of your throat making you gag.

He chuckles, watching how your eyes flutter, how your breathing changes, goes deeper.

"My angel. My love. Come to me."

Bucky kneels over you, watching you watch him as he pulls down his trousers. His thick, oozing length bobs over you before he sits down on the furs, patting his lap for you to come sit.

The furs are soft and forgiving on your knees as you crawl towards him. Your eyes stay on his cock as he circles the base, giving himself a squeeze then stroking long and languid up his length.

Thinking he means for you to ride him you move to straddle him, wrap your thick thighs around his waist, but he stops you.

"No, my love," he doesn't stop stroking his cock as he speaks. You tilt your head, suddenly confused. Did he not...want you anymore? Surely that couldn't be the case. Not after what the two of you just shared. Especially not with his current...predicament in hand.

Bucky's free hand cradles your face, his eyes searching yours.

"What would you think about Sir Steven joining us tonight?"

You freeze. Your stomach flips back and forth. Your heart's suddenly racing, threatening to break free from your chest.

"S-sir Steven?"

"I see how you look at him, my love. How you clench your thighs together when he smiles at you. How you giggle like a schoolgirl when he speaks to you."

You sputter in shock.

"Bucky, I -- I don't know what to say."

Bucky chuckles and lifts your head to kiss you. Your eyes, which had been unable to meet his own, close and you lose yourself for a moment in the sweet softness of his lips.

"I understand, angel," he smiles into your lips. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't trust either of you. Sir Steven is my right hand, my best friend. And you, my love, are my everything."

You shook your head, not believing for a moment. Like this was a trap, a trick, too good to be true. The idea of both of these men caring for you...loving you. It was almost too much to bear.

"He's so desperate for a taste of you, my love," Bucky whispers into your ear. "He hungers for your sweet cunt. After all these months standing guard outside this cabin. Hearing me ravage you, treasure you, take you apart, while he can do naught but stand and wait and listen."

Your core clenches, pulses with need as Bucky speaks. You knew in the back of your mind that Steve was out there, had to be in order to protect his prince, but the fact that he was listening, lusting after you silently in the dark. It thrilled you. And it terrified you.

You were thoroughly embarrassed and unsure if you could look Steve in the eye again knowing what you knew now, even though it shouldn't come as a surprise.

"What do you say, my love? One word and he'll be here. Or another and we'll never speak of it again. Either way, know I love you. I always will."

Bucky's so serious it hurts. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, forcing you to look, to know that he means it. He refuses to let you hurt or to let this come between the two of you.

"Yes. Yes, Bucky."

Your prince smiles at you and captures your mouth once more.

"I want to make you feel good, angel. So good."

"You do, Bucky. You will."

"And so will he."

Bucky calls for Steve then and as he walks through the door you're reminded by the chill that you're on your knees, completely bare. You scramble to cover yourself with the tattered remains of your dress.

"No, my love," Bucky stops you, tweaks a bare nipple as he kisses you. "Show him. You're too beautiful a gift to hide away."

Steve sends a small smile your way, kind as always as you meet his gaze.

Slowly, Steve removes his coats and his weapons, keeping them within reach just in case. He approaches you much like Bucky did earlier, as if he's afraid to spook you.

You don't know what to say to this man. Even broader than Bucky in some ways and just as powerful a force. The prince's study blade, always by his side.

Thankfully Steve speaks first.

"May I...kiss you?"

He's kneeling before you, still in his shirt and trousers. The only sound in the cabin besides your breathing and the blood rushing past your ears is the slick sound of Bucky stroking his cock.

With that oddly grounding sound at your back, you find the strength to nod your head. Because you do, God, you do want this.

Steve takes your head in has hands, large and warm like Bucky's, swallowing you up in their care, and he kisses you.

His beard is grown out, not stubbled like Bucky's, but softer on your cheeks and chin as he presses close. Not devouring but tasting, savoring like you're his last meal.

You have to force yourself to stop comparing the two men. The differences between their touch, their tastes, stand out but so do their similarities. And when you have them both here, ready to devour you whole, any time spent pondering instead of soaking up their affections would be a waste.

Steve's kisses grow more urgent, his hands find your waist and travel up your curves to cup your breats. They're sensitive from Bucky's earlier ministrations, tender in spots from love bites and bruises sucked into your skin.

"Jesus, Buck. What were you trying to do, maul the poor girl?," Steve jests to his friend over your shoulder. You can't help but laugh into his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"That little hellcat in your arms has done worse to me before, believe me."

"Oh now I'm a hellcat, my love? What happened to me being your angel?"

Bucky grins and curls his fingers in the air, calling you forth.

"Then show me. Show me how good you are and come swallow my cock."

You gulp and nod, crawling back to Bucky on your knees. You can feel Steve's eyes on you as your hips sway.

"Fuck. Look at you," Steve groans as you bend down and take Bucky into your mouth.

Your prince feels hot and heavy on your tongue. A thick, veiny mouthful that takes a few moments to adjust to a you work up and down his length. Bucky groans, resting a hand in the back of your head, not pressing, just holding you there, keeping you on his cock.

Behind you, you hear the rustle of trousers being removed and slick sound of Steve working his hand over his cock.

You groan around Bucky's length, the idea of Steve watching you take Bucky down your throat making your slit weep, your juices running down your thigh.

Feeling more confident, more brazen, you lift up on your knees, spreading them and arching your back so Steve can see... all of you.

Your knight groans and his hand picks up speed as he watches your dripping, clenching cunt.

"Touch her, Stevie. Go ahead."

Bucky's voice is deep, relaxed, when he speaks. It sends a shudder rushing through you. You'd beg Steve to touch you now if your mouth wasn't full.

Expecting a tentative hand on your back side or finger on your folds, you're shocked and unprepared when you instead feel Steve run his tongue flat up your cunt. From your clit your hole, he licks a wide stripe, collecting your slick on his tongue.

"Oh, fuck! Steve," you gasp, pulling off of Bucky's cock. Your hand works overt his length as you cry out. Steve's wonderful, perfect mouth is sucking on your clit, your folds, savoring every inch of your cunt.

With one thumb he spreads your inner folds open and moves in close to spear your cunt with his tongue. The thick muscle penetrating your walls with an unbelievable hunger.

Bucky was right. Steve desperately wants to completely devour you.

Feeling neglected, even though he loves watching your face contort in pleasure, Bucky takes you by the hair and shoves your mouth back down over his cock.

You jolt in surprise but immediately get back to it, working him over with you mouth and fist, making sure to occasionally tug on his spit slick sac as well. It tightens under your fingers and you know Bucky's close. His legs, shaking as you take him deeper and deeper.

Steve's relentless behind you, still fucking you with his tongue, lapping up every bit of you he can reach. You can hear him still frantically stroking his cock as he feasts from your dripping center.

"Fuck, that's it, angel. Suck me dry."

You take Bucky's cock as far as you can, your nose just brushing the hair at his base, as he shoots molten hot down your throat.

"Fuck!"

Bucky pulls you off his cock and up to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself in your tongue.

Behind you Steve replaces his tongue with two thick fingers and it's only after a few pumps that you're screaming, coming all over his hand and dripping on the furs beneath you.

Seconds after you crumple into Bucky's lap, completely spent, Steve's growling, jerking his cock over your ass, and coating your backside with his hot seed.

"Fucking hell, angel."

Bucky pulls your limp body up for another kiss then turns your head to face Steve. The blond kisses you, licking away some of Bucky's cum from your chin that dribbled out.

Bucky lays you down, curls you up in his side as his knight cleans your backside with some fabric from your dress. The poor garment has seen too much tonight.

Once Steve has finished he goes to dress again, to return to his post outside.

"Stevie."

His head whips around to look at you, halfway done lacing up his trousers.

"Stay. Please. For a little while?"

Steve looks from you to the door and back again, unsure.

"Your prince orders you to stay," Bucky mumbles, already starting to fall asleep.

"Oh, shut up, Buck."

You giggle as you reach out for Steve, your lovely, golden-tongued knight. Pulling him into the warm furs in front of you with Bucky lightly snoring at your back.

Steve is hesitant, shy almost, like you were before he dove his face into your private bits.

"Thank you, Stevie."

"Well, what the prince says goes," he shrugs.

"No. For keeping us safe. For keeping our secret safe," you raise your hand to his strong chest, feeling his heart beating a strong, steady rhythm under your palm. "It's hard, loving someone quietly like this. Hiding it when you know it could be taken away. So...thank you. For keeping us safe. And for loving us too."

Steve sucks in a breath, like he thought you didn't know, couldn't see how he felt. You saw it when he looked at Bucky too. You knew how they cared for each other.

"Until tonight I thought I might've been imagining things. Thinking that maybe we didn't all feel the same. That you didn't feel the same. So I ignored it. Until Bucky asked me if I would let you in. I thought I was hiding it so well, how much I care for you. But Bucky could see it, could see that I care for you as much as I do for him."

Steve stared at you in awe.

"Bucky's a fool if he thinks this is going to be a one time thing," you smile at Steve, biting your lip and trying not to laugh and wake the oaf behind you.

372 notes · View notes