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kiss-me-cill-me · 3 months

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The Ninth Crewmember

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You are the ninth crewmember aboard Icarus II, and as the journey wears on you begin to find it harder and harder to ignore your feelings for Capa. Maybe it would be easier if he'd quit dragging you into bed with him...

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader taking birth control pills as well as other medications, mild angst/pining, nightmares, literal sleeping together, the fun kind of sleeping together, Capa is a bit of a dick but also a sadboi, teasing, begging, use of "good girl" (whoops), bad puns

A/N: Can you tell that I struggle with titles haha? Anyway, finally getting around to cross-posting this from AO3 in my continued attempts to fuel @cillmequick's Capa thots 😉

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Your fingers hovered over the panel, looking for the button you were supposed to press. They were all clearly labeled, but there were so many of them that you were having a hard time locating the one you needed. Your index finger moved hesitantly closer to a square near the bottom right of the panel.

“Not that one.”

Capa’s voice behind you made you jump. He sounded… not exactly annoyed, but tired by having to explain again what you were supposed to be doing. Your cheeks heated up as he leaned in close, chin hovering just above your shoulder as he looked at the panel.

“That one.”

He pointed at a button in the lower left, which, embarrassingly, was flashing bright orange and labeled “TEST” in all capital letters. You felt the need to apologize, but held your tongue. Capa went back to doing whatever it was he had been concentrating on before, at the other end of the room. The space he left in his wake felt oddly noticeable.

“Okay,” he said, taking his time to flip a couple of switches above his head. “Ready in three… two… one…”

You pressed the button as he finished counting down, and instantly the room in front of the control chamber was filled with spots of twinkling light. They seemed to dance over every surface for just a moment. The display lasted for less than three seconds, but it was breathtaking even in impermanence.

You looked over at Capa, your eyes still shining with the beauty of it, only to see him calmly taking notes. His expression was carefully neutral, lips pressed together as he scribbled with short, purposeful strokes.

“Capa?” you asked.

“Hm?”

He didn’t look up as he continued to record his observations, and you didn’t wait for him to before continuing.

“Do you think the real thing will look like that?”

Capa stopped writing for a moment, and seemed to consider your question seriously before answering.

“No,” he said finally, putting his stylus down and fixing you with a gaze that made you breath stop. “Even after watching a thousand of these simulations, I don’t think that any one of them could ever capture the true beauty. What it will really look like.”

You were standing a few feet away from him, fixed in place by his intense gaze. Something about Capa had fascinated you, from the moment you’d stepped aboard Icarus II. His bluntness, maybe, or the way his eyes seemed to scan over everything in front of him, as if he were reading it all - people, data, situations - like they were a book. And you would be lying if you said that it didn’t make your heart swell whenever he did it to you.

“You and I will be some of the only people to ever live who will see something so magnificent,” Capa said quietly. “We should count ourselves lucky.”

You nodded in agreement, too entranced and too afraid of flubbing your words to reply.

“Thank you for your help,” Capa continued. He went back to note taking, as if he hadn’t just been waxing poetic about life and the universe. “You can go.”

Capa’s words rang in your head as you made your way to the medbay. It had been hours since you’d left his lab, but the weight still seemed to resonate. A beauty unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. You reflected on the thought as you reported to Searle, to help with a few things before going to bed.

One of Searle’s duties was handing out supplements, and he often asked for your help with making the deliveries. Icarus II was a very large ship, and your fellow crewmembers were usually spread out in the various quarters and chambers. It was faster to do the job with two people.

Before heading off, you worked on separating various pills into small plastic cups, one for each person. There were quite a few pills that everyone had to take every day. Space travel was hard on the body, and it was difficult if not impossible to get all of the necessary nutrients from the food you had aboard. Even with the gardens and the ability to have fresh vegetables, you all still had to take a lot of supplements.

You finished doling out the vitamins, and then opened the final bottle of pills. You, Cassie, and Corazon also received one other daily medication: an oral contraceptive. You dropped three little pills into three little cups.

As you replaced the bottle’s lid, your mind drifted again to Capa. The weight of him hovering just behind you, so close that you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wondered if he had any idea that he made your heart flutter just by being next to you. If he did, he certainly didn’t show it. Capa was incredibly hard to read, but for some reason that only made you want him all the more. Your thoughts wandered, imagining things that you knew would never happen. His hand reaching out to you; the feel of his fingers against your waist; his beautiful blue eyes rolling back as he-

You slammed the bottle of pills down on the counter, banishing the fantasies before you could get too wrapped up in them. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. The birth control pills were mandated for female crewmembers, but they were precaution rather than permission. Nine people cooped up together, for years. It was better to prevent any potential problems from happening. It was only logical to mitigate the risk. But that didn’t mean that relationships were encouraged.

And besides, you told yourself, it's not like Capa would be interested anyway.

You picked up the little plastic vial with your pills, and tipped them all into your mouth, swallowing quickly.

They burned your throat on the way down.

Capa’s eyes looked almost white in the vivid yellow light of the sun. He looked at the dying star, and you looked at him, breathless again at the way he seemed to silently consider everything in front of him. The edges of his thumbs ghosted over his lips as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, as if to get just a bit closer to that magnificent light.

You were sitting in the observatory, Capa’s empty vial of pills placed precariously on the edge of the bench between you. It had taken you quite a while to find him. He often stayed up late working in his lab, and it was almost rare to see him outside of it. He had been your last delivery, so you figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit with him awhile before heading to your quarters.

You’d been wrong, of course; it hurt more than anything to sit next to him and not have the courage, or the recklessness, to reach out and touch him. As he looked on with amazement at the pulsating sun, you tore your eyes away from him to peer out as well. Dark webs of red and black stretched over the star’s surface. It was strange to think about - how up close it all looked so different from how it had back on Earth. It took up the entire viewing window; so large that it almost felt like it could swallow you at any moment, despite still being millions of miles away.

As he leaned forward, Capa’s dog tags dangled in front of his chest. You wanted nothing more than to grab them. Wrap your fingers around the thin cord holding them, and pull him to you until you both tumbled off the edge of something and into the blazing unknown.

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips. Chapped from the heat of the sun.

“It’s getting late,” you whispered, hoping that he would break the spell so that you wouldn’t have to. “You should get to bed, Capa.”

“Hard to when the sun’s always right there, isn’t it?” he asked, cryptically.

“I guess it is,” you agreed. “But you should still get some rest.”

Capa nodded, and rose from the bench, crushing his empty cup in his hand. He looked back at you, seemed as if he was about to say something, and then left the room without uttering a word. You let out a rough breath, shaking even as you were bathed in the glowing light.

A noise woke you up from your fitful sleep. You’d had a lot of trouble closing your eyes in the first place - probably because of the way your heart was still hammering in your chest, and the way your mind was racing from the events of the day. Still, it was odd to hear any sort of noise at night. Usually the hallways of the ship were deserted, as the crew all slept in their separate chambers. You listened closely, trying to identify the noise through the haze of sleep still clouding your senses.

You heard it again: a muffled banging followed by what sounded like someone struggling.

Curious, you got out of bed and padded softly across the floor of your small room. The door slid open soundlessly, and as you stepped out into the hall you heard the noise a third time. Now you could clearly tell that it was coming from across the hall. Capa’s room.

You hesitated for a moment, closed fist raised and ready to knock. He probably wouldn’t want you to bother him, but what if something was wrong and you ignored it? You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. You knocked.

Another muffled sound came from inside, unintelligible.

“Capa?” you whispered, lips pressed as close to the door as you could manage. You didn’t want to wake anyone else up.

There was no answer.

Well, you were already here. You might as well go in and make sure he was okay, just in case. Pressing the small button to open the door, you slipped quietly into his room. The door slid closed behind you.

Capa’s room was entirely dark, unlike the faint, recessed glow of the hallway. It took your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they finally did you could see Capa asleep in his bed, thrashing against some unseen threat. He was having a nightmare.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. You shouldn’t have barged in; this was his personal space. He was vulnerable, and clearly going through something unpleasant. Knowing Capa, you felt certain that he wouldn’t want any of the others seeing him like this, including you. His brows creased and lips pressed feverishly together in his sleep. You turned to leave, feeling foolish.

“Who’s there?”

The sound of Capa’s voice behind you made you freeze. Just like earlier, in the lab, a shiver inched down your spine at the thought of facing him. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“It’s me,” you responded, turning around.

He was sitting up in bed, blankets pooled around his waist. Shirtless. You felt your face heating up, and were relieved that he couldn’t see your eyes widen in the dark.

“Oh,” said Capa softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um… I heard something and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Against your better judgment, you took a few steps toward him as you spoke. There was a chair next to his bed, and you sat in it, leaning forward on your elbows as you tried to read his expression. The lines of his face betrayed nothing, as usual.

“Is… everything okay?” you asked hesitantly.

Capa swallowed before answering, his eyes flitting up to land on your face. Even in the dark, somehow they seemed to shine. You wanted to look away. You knew you should. But looking into his eyes felt the same as the rushing weightlessness of looking into the sun.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Sometimes I have nightmares.”

You nodded, a little surprised he had opened up to you..

“Me too,” you admitted.

Capa seemed to understand what you meant, without you having to say it. He didn’t look away from you as he spoke.

“It is frightening,” he told you. “To be face to face with all of it. The beauty. The scale, unlike anything you’d ever seen back on Earth.” Your mind flashed back to Capa in the observation deck, eyes wide open and leaning forward toward the molten sun. You had thought he was fascinated, but maybe it was something more like the magnetic pull of fear that made him inch closer.

“But I meant what I said earlier,” he continued. “We are lucky to be here.”

Silence hung between you for a moment.

“I’m sorry for letting myself in,” you said finally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Don’t be,” Capa said. “It’s nice to be checked up on.”

You smiled softly, even as your heart hammered in your chest. You put your hands on your knees and stood up from the chair, then leaned down to look at Capa one last time. He was still sitting up in bed, propped on one elbow, facing slightly toward you. A breath caught in your throat as you reached out and placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

“Get some rest, Capa,” you told him, giving a gentle squeeze.

As you moved your hand away, suddenly it was stopped by strong, stable fingers. You looked down to see Capa grabbing your wrist, looking up at you with those damn sensuous eyes. This time, your heart stopped.

“Stay with me?” Capa asked, the barest hint of a prayer in his voice.

“I…”

“Please?”

Time seemed to stand still as you looked at him. A trace of fear in the very corner of his eyes. A few pieces of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pressing just a bit too tight.

“Okay,” you agreed. The word seemed to carry all of the air in your lungs along with it, out into the vacant night.

You sat on the edge of his bed, awkwardly facing him, and Capa moved backward to make more space for you. Hesitant, you weren’t sure if he wanted you to lie down next to him. It wasn’t exactly a roomy bed, not being intended for more than one person to occupy at a time. You flittered with indecision as Capa settled back into his pillows.

“C’mere.”

Suddenly, an arm was around your waist. And then you were being hooked into Capa’s body, your back pressing snugly against his chest. Capa sighed behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. His arm was still draped around your waist, and his lips just barely brushed against you.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

You let out a shaky breath, and prayed that Capa couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

The next morning, you woke up alone. You tried to ignore your disappointment. Capa was an early riser; the type to get a head start on the day by spending all hours in his lab, including the ones before anyone else on the ship was awake. You had always seen him as a hard worker, but after seeing him so unusually agitated last night, you now wondered if there weren’t other reasons he barely seemed to sleep.

You looked around the small room for a few moments, reflecting on what had happened. Part of you still couldn’t believe it. Was it possible that Capa had feelings for you, or were you just a warm body to sleep next to? Did it even matter? If it meant you got to press yourself up against him, you honestly didn’t care whether there was anything more to it.

But then anxiety clouded your mind. What if Capa had left because he was embarrassed? Too shy to confront you about the mistake he’d made in asking you to stay with him? He was, generally, very straightforward - but you also got the sense that he liked to avoid conflict if possible. And he was so damn hard to read. You sat up and put your feet on the floor, crossing your legs and squeezing them together. He was driving you crazy, and the worst part was, you were way too much of a coward to tell him about it.

You stood, made a sound of frustration, and carefully left the room - looking both ways before you stepped out into the hallway. It was still early, but you certainly didn’t need anyone seeing you step out of Capa’s room first thing in the morning. Rumors traveled faster in the cramped halls of a spaceship than lightning on a summer’s night. You slipped back into your own room, and got ready for the day. Maybe, later, you would confront Capa.

You spent the day avoiding Capa. Which wasn’t too hard; he really did spend most of his time in his lab. You focused on helping Corazon in the oxygen garden, trying to distract yourself with the calming, white-noise sound of water. It didn’t do much good for your nerves, unfortunately.

As the hours wore on, you became more and more agitated, and ultimately, convinced that Capa regretted your night together. It was disappointing, sure, but this was really just a testament to why you shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. It was a bad idea to sleep with your coworkers. Even if you did literally only sleep with them.

That night, you begged off of helping Searle with the medications; telling him you had a headache and wanted to get to bed. Really, you just couldn't face the thought of handing Capa his little plastic cup of pills, watching as he observed you with his characteristic disinterest. Searle added a few ibuprofen to your medications and watched as you swallowed them down, before telling you he’d handle it and to get some rest.

Eyes on the floor, you headed to your room.

This was not good. You still had years left on the ship, pressed together with everyone in tight quarters. And Capa was right across the hall from you. There was no possible way to avoid him, and yet, how were you supposed to face him after the embarrassment of being ignored and rejected? Your thoughts were still swirling as you reached the door to your quarters, and pressed the button to go inside.

“Sleeping alone tonight?”

The familiar voice behind you caught you off guard. You hadn’t seen him there.

“I didn’t realize there was another option.”

You turned around to face him, slowly. Capa was standing in the open doorway to his room, hands in his pockets and arms unfairly attractive in his light gray tank top. There was just a hint of mischief in his eyes as they slowly swept over you, and it made you feel both anger and arousal.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Capa said, again seeming to sense what you were feeling without you even telling him. “Trey needed my help with something, and I figured you wouldn’t want me to wake you. Ooor want to walk out together in front of him.”

You felt yourself starting to soften, but still gave your best attempt at a pout as you crossed your arms.

“You could have told me earlier.”

“I know. And I am sorry.” Capa took a step back into his room. “Let me make it up to you?”

It was the wrong decision to follow him. You knew this, but you did it anyway. If only to finish the conversation in the relative privacy of Capa’s room instead of out in the hallway where anyone could hear you. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Please don’t be mad?”

Capa’s room was dark, again, and it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust. When you could see him clearly, he was looking down at you, careful expression and head cocked to the side as he awaited your answer.

“Okay,” you agreed.

You were rewarded with a small smile from Capa, and instantly your heart melted. You really couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you wanted to. He was just too damned attractive.

“Let’s go to bed then,” Capa said happily.

He tore off his shirt as he walked to the bed, and for a second you weren’t sure how you were going to stay upright. Capa stood by the bed and waited for you.

“Ladies first.”

“I, um…” you began. “Maybe I should get my pajamas out of my room.”

“Mmm, you don’t really need them.”

Capa took a step toward you and reached over, pulling you close to him. At the same time, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. And before you could protest, he was pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you only in shorts and a sports bra.

“That’s better,” he smirked.

Capa’s warm fingers landed on your waist, and you felt yourself swoon again. If it weren’t for his piercing blue eyes holding you in place, you were certain you would have fallen over.

Gently, Capa guided you to bed and let you climb in first, before crawling after you. You were spooning again, this time with you lying closest to the wall. With Capa’s body pressed against you, the result was a warm but not uncomfortable closeness. It felt like you were boxed into your own little world, even as the vastness of space threatened to spill in all around you.

Capa’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in even tighter. You settled back against him, all of your earlier tension melting away. This was nice, whatever it was. You had made up your mind to just enjoy it. It had been a long time since you’d been so close to someone. Capa’s long hair tickled your neck and shoulders, and you exhaled as he-

“Capa!”

His mouth was suddenly on your shoulder, kissing rough enough to leave a bruise. You felt heat rush to your face once again.

“Shhhh,” he teased, lips brushing against you. “Don’t want anyone else to hear us, right?”

“What are you doing?” you whispered frantically.

“Making it up to you,” Capa replied, devilishly. “Like I said I would.”

He put his lips on your neck this time, kissing and scraping your soft skin with his teeth. Despite yourself, you let out a small whimper. Capa’s arms tightened around you.

“Do you forgive me?” Capa asked. You could feel him smiling into your neck.

“I-I don’t know.” A sudden surge of boldness swept through you. “You might need to convince me some more.”

“Hmmm,” Capa growled, directly into your ear. “Wonder how I can do that…"

One of his hands trailed lazily up and down your thigh. His touch was feather-light; moving so slowly that it had your head spinning. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your leg, pads of his fingers pressing into your bare flesh.

“Oh-”

The word left your lips involuntarily, and you felt Capa smirk against you again.

“Think I might have a few ideas…” he said.

“Capa, I-” Before you could get out more than two words, his hand had snaked around to the front of your shorts and was pushing past your waistband. Separated only by the cloth of your panties, his fingers pressed against the wetness that was quickly spreading between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispered. “I knew you were into me, but I didn’t know you had it this bad.”

You arched your back against his bare chest, too drunk on his fingers to formulate a response. And he hadn’t even pushed past your panties yet; he was just touching you through the fabric as you fell apart for him.

“Good girl,” he rasped, sending another wave of euphoria from your neck to your throbbing cunt. “So eager. Want me to put ‘em inside you?”

You nodded, desperate but not trusting your voice enough to speak. Capa slid his hand past the final layer of fabric that separated you, and then one of his fingers was pressing into you. You squeezed your legs together, trapping his hand, and Capa quickly added another finger.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed.

His fingers curled, pulling at the strings of tension that were already building in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to scream for him, but knew you shouldn't. The walls of the ship were far from soundproof, and there were rooms on either side of you.

Capa’s thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it as his fingers continued to move inside of you. You were desperate for something to grab onto, but the only thing in front of you was blank wall. You settled for wrapping your legs around his, entangling yourselves together to give you some semblance of being grounded. You bucked against his hand, begging for more friction.

“Forgive me yet?” Capa teased, his breath ghosting over your ear again.

You shook your head no; not willing to give up on the game just yet. Behind you, Capa chuckled.

“So stubborn,” he muttered. “You really want to make me work for it.”

Capa took his fingers away, and you moaned at the sudden loss of him. Not wasting any more time, he grabbed your shorts and pulled them down. You had a brief moment to wonder what you had gotten yourself into.

You’d felt his growing bulge press into your back as Capa had teased you with his fingers, and now you felt him sliding out of his sweatpants. You were both naked from the waist down, and-

“Fuck, Capa.”

He was brushing the tip over your entrance, not pressing into you yet but just taunting with the idea of it. His hand was firmly at the base of his shaft, ready to guide himself up into you.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Please, Capa.”

“Wanna hear you say it.”

“I need you inside me,” you whispered.

“Fucking beg for it.”

With a frustrated whine, you pushed down and back, forcing his cock into your aching pussy. He was such a tease; you couldn't take it any longer. He was so hard he slid right into you, and the stretch against your walls was like heaven.

Without warning, your orgasm broke over you, crashing into your body with an intensity unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was bliss and beauty and all for the man who was ruining you with every touch. You pressed harder, wanting to feel Capa inside of you as deep as you possibly could. You arched against him, head falling back against his shoulder as you rode out the high.

Capa grabbed at your breasts roughly.

“You know,” he began, “you've never been very good at following directions.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, making you gasp as you clenched around nothing. Quickly, you were flipped onto your back, and then Capa was hovering over you, his eyes burning ice blue.

“Let's try that again,” he said, lining himself up as he leaned forward, pressing his whole body against yours. “I want you. To fucking. Beg.”

“Capa, please,” you breathed.

“Please what?”

“Please put it in me! God, I want you to fill me up. Please, please-”

Capa smirked above you, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

“That's my good girl.”

The sound that left your mouth as he entered you once again would have been mortifying, had you been thinking straight enough to hear it. As it was, Capa seemed to drink up your pathetic mewls and breathy sighs. He pumped in and out of you a few times, watching as you bounced on the bed beneath him.

“Should've gotten you in my bed a long time ago,” Capa panted, still pumping into you relentlessly. “I could've been listening to your pretty noises this whole time.”

His face was right next to yours; the stubble on his jaw scratching you with every thrust. You could feel his lips brushing against your ear as he continued.

“Kinda regret wasting all those hours in the lab with you doing actual work. It's a lot more fun for me to press your buttons.”

Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and your fingers tangled in his hair. Capa kissed you roughly on the lips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, falling out of their methodical rhythm.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, yeah?”

You could do nothing but wrap your legs around him tighter, pinning him in place.

“Fuck, that's right. Gonna take all of it and beg for more. I'll have you in here every fucking night, on your back for me, screaming so that everybody hears how bad you want me to stick it in you.”

Capa’s mouth was going to be the death of you. You clenched around him, silently begging him to cum. It was humiliating, how badly you wanted to be filled by him.

“Oh, fuck!” Capa shouted, entirely too loud.

He held you tight as he emptied into you, giving a few final, weak thrusts. He was breathing heavily, still looming over you as his chest heaved. After a few seconds, he pulled back to look at you.

“So, does that make up for leaving this morning?” he asked, smirk still plastered on his face.

“I… don't know,” you panted. “I think we might need to do it once more… to make sure.”

You looked up at him, mischief playing in your own eyes. Capa wasn't the only one who could tease.

“Oh yeah? Only once more?” he prodded.

He reached up to push the hair out of his face, slicked down with the sweat of his exertion. But despite that, you could already feel him getting hard again.

“Well, maybe a few times,” you smiled.

You leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss.

#robert capa x reader #robert capa smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

Designated Lockpicker

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Inspired by this post

Saw this and I HAD to write something about it. It only took me until 11:45 to finish it but it's okay I'll suffer the consequences

Warnings: one swear word, reference to Astarion's past abuse, mention of a terrible texture, innuendos

Word Count: 1,219

Masterlist

AO3

You poke your head into the room. Dust motes float through the air, which reeks with musk and mold. You'd probably cover your nose and seek fresh air if this wasn't the millionth time you’d smelled it.

Your eyes scan along the walls, floor and shelves, searching for anything interesting. Food would be nice - Gale wouldn’t stop pestering you for ingredients to cook with. Bandages wouldn’t hurt either if it would ease Shadowheart’s workload every time you got into a minor scrape.

The room was rather sparse, but it looked like it may have been a study at some point. Books were scattered everywhere, chairs were tipped on their sides or had broken legs, a desk was angled oddly for its placement. Whoever lived here before, they must have left in a hurry. Which was excellent news. Maybe they left something behind.

From the other rooms of the building, you can hear your companions’ muffled voices. You can only make out one or two words as they speak. Karlach seemed to be talking to Astarion; Wyll and Gale were going back and forth further away. You couldn’t hear Shadowheart or Lae’zel, but this didn’t surprise you.

The floorboards creak and groan as you step into the study. Stray beams of light keep the gloom away, for the most part. You can almost imagine how lovely it once was.

You go to take a book off the shelf, but immediately draw your hand back when the binding squishes at the slightest pressure. You scowl in disgust and wipe your hand on your pants to remove the gross sensation. Unfortunately, your more learned companions would not be getting any new reading materials today.

Against the far wall, stationed behind the desk, was a dresser with a glass case on top. All the case had was scrolls, damp and turning green. Any information they may have held was gone.

You grab the handles of each drawer in turn, sliding open the dresser to reveal its contents. A vial of ink here, another useless scroll there - nothing exciting. Until you open the bottom drawer.

Poorly hidden under some loose paper was a chest. It appeared to be made of metal, hardly rusted despite its surroundings. For its size, you were shocked how heavy it was when you lifted it out and set it on the desk just behind you. The lock didn’t look too complicated. You had some spare lockpicks in your pack, you could easily grab one and get it open. You could.

Instead, you leave the chest where it is and step into the hall. You try to listen for your friends, again, but they seem to have done deeper within the establishment. So you do the next best thing: “Astarion?”

The shout travels down the building, and from one of the rooms pops out the vampire spawn. He seemed confused why you’d be calling him of all people. But the confusion is quickly masked with suave confidence as he sauntered down the hall to you. “Yes, dear?”

You smile sweetly at him. “I found a locked chest. Could you help me open it? Please?”

He smirks and taps a finger under your chin, getting you to tilt your head upward with just one motion. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He follows you back into the room. His nose scrunches with the smell of rotting books, but the look is gone as soon as he sees the chest. You round the desk and turn it around toward him. He can’t stop his smile as you rest your arms and chin on top, still fixing him with that darling look.

This had become a habit, to his mind, anyway. For you, this was an enrichment of sorts to provide Astarion with a sense of purpose. Late night talks had made it abundantly clear just how much he loved feeling useful. For two centuries he was used, his autonomy stolen from him for the sake of his master. But little tasks like this did not feel like an imbalance in power. He would open whatever lock you wished for the praise you showered on him alone, but you also ensured he got his pick of whatever was inside. He was being rewarded for his services, something that never happened before - nothing good, anyway - and you loved giving him his moment to shine.

He just assumed you couldn’t pick a lot to save your damn life.

“I’m beginning to think you just like watching me,” he teased. He produced a pick from his pocket and began working away at the lock. “Trying to learn my trade secrets, are we?"

You hummed, looking down at his hands as they moved together fluidly. He could do this in his sleep. “Never. I just love watching you work, that’s all.”

He chuckled. “Really now?” He lifts his attention from the lock to look at you, hands pausing in their ministrations. “And what is it about my work that you enjoy so much?”

You meet his gaze. He can only describe the look you give him as fond. Love seems to rest in your irises, gleaming back at him, on display for the whole world to see. “Your hands,” you answer, and while it was supposed to be part of your playful banter, you say it so genuinely. “You’re always so precise, like you just know exactly what needs to be done before you even start. It reminds me of your embroidery.”

“And here I thought it was for more depraved reasons.” It’s a deflection. He still isn’t used to being seen like this. Seen by you. He still thinks of the way you describe how his hair curls around his ears, and how his face wrinkles when he laughs. “I’m always happy to give you a hands-on lesson, my sweet. Just say the word.”

“And if I ask for you to teach me how to embroider?”

His devious smirk relaxed into a soft grin. He nods. “It would be my honor.”

Silence takes over as he returns to his work. It’s warm and welcoming, despite your surroundings. Basking in the quiet felt easy around him. He could be reading a book, and you’d slot yourself right next to him, and never was there an expectation for him to stop to entertain you. You just wanted to be around him. It meant more to him than you could ever know.

With a final turn of the pick, a faint click comes from the chest. He seems to puff up with the success, like an all-too-proud bird. He slips the pick back in his pocket and steps back as you round the desk. Instead of going straight for the chest, you cup his cheek in one hand and press a kiss to the other. His cheeks would be positively flushed if he had the blood for it.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you whisper against his skin, pressing another kiss to his cheek right after. He leans into the heat of your hand.

“It was my pleasure, darling.”

You pull away with a grin that could put the sun to shame. You turn to open the chest, eager to know what hides behind those metal walls, and he cannot stop admiring how perfectly a stray beam of light hits your skin.

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #pov second person #second person pov

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Fluff, A smidgen of angst, Truths revealed, Kind of smut (heavy petting and making out), Magic, Supernatural elements.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: It's been a hot minute since we've heard from Skipper and Jake! I hope you all enjoy this chapter because it was actually a real struggle to finish for some reason. Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You had always loved mermaids. You had always wondered what it must be like to live as half human and half fish, swimming beneath the blue waves of the sea and singing beautiful songs for everyone to hear. You wondered what it would be like to coast your fingers across the rocks and corals, interacting with the creatures below. Were there cities like Atlantica down there that only the merpeople knew about? Or did they migrate like whales?

“You know mermaids aren’t real, honey, right?” Your mother had asked you one day, brow furrowed in concern. You had let out a sigh that only a thirteen-year-old beginning their journey into the reality of life could give.

“Yeah, Mom,” you had frowned, looking out the window and onto the waters of the lake below. “I know.”

“Have you thought about maybe redecorating your room?” She continued, picking up your porcelain mermaid and eyeing it with vague distaste. You glanced over at her, turning to face her slightly.

“I like my things,” you grumbled, pressing your lips into a thin line. “They’re my treasures. And what’s wrong with liking mermaids and the ocean?”

“Nothing, sweetie,” she had sighed, setting it down. “Maybe it’s just time for you to start thinking about more serious things, is all.”

She gave you one last smile before walking out of the room, leaving you to ponder over her words.

Weeks later, her words still floated in your head, and you had relayed the conversation to your grandmother, your mother’s mother, one day as you sat in her living room. She had scowled, shaking her head and fixing you with a fierce look.

“Now you listen to me, young lady,” she groused. “Your mother means well, but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. There’s magic in this world, believe you me, and it’s a rare person who continues to believe and see it. You just keep doing what you’re doing, and one day you’ll see the truth.”

And one day had finally come.

The waves crashed against the shore with a deafening sound, the wind whipping your hair about your face where it rested atop your knees, and the rock beneath you was vaguely damp, causing goosebumps to run up and down your skin. You had been out there for hours, needing time to come to reconcile what you thought you knew with what you now knew.

The scene on the beach earlier that morning replayed in your mind. The song, falling into the water, Mandy. It was a wonder you hadn’t run for the hills.

You had stood on the beach, soaked to the bone as the rest of the group stared at you like some kind of wild animal, like you might lash out at them at the most sudden of movements.

“Skip,” Bradley had started slowly, taking a small step towards where you stood, feet planted as firmly as they could be in the shifting sand. Your shoulders were drawn back, attempting to make yourself seem more confident than you actually were. In truth, you were still terrified, the adrenaline from your near death experience still running through your veins as your eyes darted the small group gathered around. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and it was an oddly cold, summer morning, and you fought the shiver that threatened to run up your spine. “Honey, it’s not that we don’t think you’re ready to know…”

He trailed off as you narrowed your eyes at him, anger starting to course through you. Bob cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him.

“It’s just that you’ve been through a lot in the past hour,” he explained with a grimace. “We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Yeah!” Chirped Mickey. “Besides, you’re still wet, and we wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything.”

“Mickey is right,” Nat smiled gently, “you should get changed out of these clothes.”

She moved to grab your arm, but you shifted away, fixing her with a glare before your eyes once again shifted towards the other members.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” you hissed, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “Stop treating me like I’m some child.”

Your eyes connected with familiar green ones, and your anger instantly dissipated into a sense of pleading. Jake stared back at you, face unreadable as he took you in. After a moment, he walked towards you, and you didn’t even think about stopping him as he stopped in front of you. He raised a hand, running his thumb lightly over the apple of your cheek, and you felt yourself relax into his touch.

“They’re right,” he said softly. You immediately stiffened, opening your mouth to say something, but he cut you off.

“I promise you, that we will tell you what you want to know. But for now,” he pauses, running his eyes up and down your form, grimacing at the sight of you. “For now, you need to go change into some dry clothes. We can talk more after, okay?”

You stared up at him for a moment, studying him. His eyes bore into yours, not a hint of deceit resting in them. Slowly, you nodded, and he let out a relieved sigh, squeezing your shoulders slightly.

“There’s my good girl,” he smiled, running his hands down your arms before releasing you. You preened at his words, feeling your cheeks warm as you glanced away.

“Okay,” Nat sighed, a relieved smile on her own face. “Now that that’s decided, let’s all head home to change and then we can regroup later.”

Bob had escorted you back home, leaving before you had finished your shower. So, you had walked, and you found yourself where you sat now, on the rocks just past Jake and Bradley’s house on the beach, the sky a dismal grey as the seagulls cried. No one was answering your texts, and while it annoyed you to no end to know that they were probably trying to come up with a way to get out of telling you, you remained secure in the fact that Jake had promised you they would tell you the truth. You let out a long sigh, trying to ease some of the tension out of your shoulders.

“Wasn’t expecting to find you right here.”

You jumped, whirling around to see the familiar green of Jake’s eyes as he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, moving to sit next to you. His shoulder brushed yours in the process, and you inhaled a gasp, hoping he hadn’t heard you.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I was just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“Care to share?”

“As if you don’t already know what they were about,” you scoffed, a smile tugging on the corner of your lips. He chuckled, nodding slowly.

“You’re right.”

“What are you doing out here, Jake?” You asked. He let out a breath, rolling his shoulders back before answering.

“The others are still debating on what we should tell you, or what you can handle knowing right now. I snuck out to come and find you.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the different sounds around you. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to break the calm between the two of you.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” you breathed, peering over at him. “Was I?”

Jake let out a sigh, leaning back against his arms as he continued to stare out into the ocean.

“You’ve heard the stories the older folks tell, right?” He asked finally, meeting your gaze. You nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“Well,” he started, looking back out at the water. “They’re all true.”

A beat passed.

“All of them?” You questioned, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You thought back to all of the things Mrs. Cambroni had told you. “Even the frenzy?”

Jake’s eyes grew wide, and his cheeks turned a brilliant red. He cleared his throat, looking away as he muttered, “Yes, even the frenzy.”

“What’s it like?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes still wide but holding confusion instead of shock.

“What’s the frenzy like,” you pressed, leaning in closer to him. He stared at you for another second before answering.

“It feels like a constant itch underneath my skin. A heat that I can’t dampen no matter what I do. It drives me crazier the older I get.”

“Is it dangerous?” You whisper.

“It can be,” he admitted slowly. “If we don’t take a mate before a certain time, then the magic becomes stronger because there’s nothing to siphon it in to. Mates help with controlling the magic, and our magic grows the older we get. If we don’t take a mate, then the magic will drive us crazy.”

“When does that happen?”

“There’s no real set number of frenzies you go through before it happens. For some, they can’t make it through their third one before they go crazy. For others, it could be their fourth or fifth one.”

“What about you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a second you were worried that you had upset him with how still he was sitting.

“Me?” He chuckled humorlessly, drawing patterns on the rock beneath the two of you. “I can already feel my control slipping sometimes this go around, especially when I’m around you. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned, brow furrowing. “I cause your control to slip? Why?”

Jake stared at you, eyes widening once again when he realized what he had said. He shook his head.

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“No,” you snapped, glaring up at him. “You promised me that you would be honest and tell me what I wanted to know.”

He looked a little taken aback, but let out another sigh as he relented.

“Sea people have what they call ‘true mates,’” he began, “and they’re different from regular mates. True mates are an ideal pair, one the powers that be have ordained as a perfect match. Everyone can take a mate, sure, but very few ever find their true mate. They’re so rare, in fact, that some people think it’s just a myth.”

“Do you?” You asked. “Think it’s a myth, I mean.”

He stared at you for a beat.

“I used to,” he admitted. “I used to think that true mates were just some sappy fairytale that people clung to to make themselves feel better. I used to laugh at the idea, actually. It wasn’t until-”

He stopped, clamping his mouth closed as his cheeks tinged red once again. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Until what?” You pressed. He swallowed thickly, turning to look out at the water.

“Until I met you,” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. You let out a small gasp, but waited for him to continue.

“The first night I saw you in that bar, Skipper, I knew. I knew with everything in me that you were the one that I had been looking and waiting for my entire life. You were the one in my dreams growing up. You were the one I could feel in my chest, pulling me towards you. You were the one that made me realize that I could be happy, that I didn’t have to settle for a life that other people had decided for me.”

You stared at him, registering the look of vulnerability on his face, and you sucked in a deep breath.

“I dreamed about you too,” you admitted, causing him to look back at you. “Or, at least I think I did. And I always felt like something was incomplete, like a piece of me was always missing. But when I sit here with you, things just feel…right.”

“Right?” He pressed, leaning in so that your noses were practically brushing each other.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your heartbeat picking up at the close proximity. “Like things aren’t so hard when you’re around. Like I don’t even have to try. Things just feel easy around you, and if I’m being honest, that kind of scares me.”

He hummed, resting his forehead against yours, warm breath running over your face as he breathed out.

“It scares me too,” he said, closing his eyes, his hand reaching out to curl around yours where it rested atop the rock. “My whole life I thought I knew what would happen. I would marry Mandy, I would go work with my father at his business, we’d pop out a couple of kids, and then the rest of life would happen. I’d die in my bed of old age, surrounded by the people that I love having lived a life that anyone would be proud of.”

“And now?” You asked, squeezing his hand. He took a shuddering breath before opening his eyes. You were almost taken aback by how beautiful they were. Swirling shades of sea glass green mixed with darker emerald, a look of pure longing on his face as he stared at you.

“Now, I know that’s not what I want,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be with Mandy. I don’t want to have the pristine, picture perfect family you find in commercials or magazines. I just want you, Skipper. I want you in any way that you’ll have me.”

His eyes were glowing now, the mossy green standing out against the growing darkness of the storm clouds that were rolling in from the sea.

“Your eyes,” you breathed, raising your unoccupied hand to run your fingers across his cheek. “They’re glowing. I knew I wasn’t imagining it.”

Jake nuzzled into the palm of your hand, humming low in his throat as he breathed you in. His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a chaste kiss in the center of your palm, and your breath hitched. You shifted, leaning in close enough that your lips hovered just over his. His eyes once again connected with yours, boring into you as if he could see every single part that you kept hidden. Your gaze dropped down to his lips for a brief second before darting back up. Eyes hooded, you leaned in, lips barely grazing his before jumping back as the rain started.

The drops came in a downpour, instantly soaking the two of you as you let out a startled laugh.

“Come on!” Jake grinned, gripping your hand and helping you off the rocks before the two of you sprinted towards his house. You trotted up the steps after him, letting out another peel of breathless laughter as the two of you caught your breath. You looked out at the beach as it continued to pour, a peel of thunder cracking through the roar of the rain. You turned back to look at Jake with a smile, shaking your head.

“The rain didn’t even build up to-”

Jake’s lips were soft on yours, pressing firmly as he cupped your cheek in his hand. You froze, taken by surprise. He pulled back after a second, eyes uncertain as they watched you.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, eyes growing wide with panic. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought after the rocks and you were standing there looking so pretty, I just-”

You cut him off with a kiss of your own, and he stiffened for a second before returning it. His hands landed on your waist, backing you up against the pillar by the stairs as his lips moved against yours in a heated bid to feel every part of you. Your own hands moved to tangle in his hair, pulling on the still wet strands gently and earning a groan from him. His tongue traced your lower lip, and you instantly opened up to him, relishing in the feeling of the muscle against your own.

Jake’s grip tightened on your waist before moving his right hand up to grope at your breast, squeezing it with a low groan. You moaned into his mouth, one hand releasing his hair to slide down and grip at his shoulder as you pressed against him. He continued to lick languidly into your mouth, savoring the taste of you and every little sound you made. He pulled away to allow you to breathe, nipping at your bottom lip gently. As you sucked in a lungful of air, he busied himself with pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and you felt him smirk against you as his left hand grabbed your thigh to wrap your leg around him. You could feel the hard bulge press against you, and a tingle ran up your spine.

“Jake,” you breathed out, head thrown back as he nipped at your skin, running his tongue over the same spot to soothe the sting. His lips worked lower and lower as you began to roll your hips against his. You let out a strangled cry as his lips connected with the intention mark on your neck, pleasure rippling through your veins as you gripped onto him and ground down harder onto him. Jake nipped at the mark, causing you to let out another cry as your nails dug into the meat of his shoulders through his shirt. You could feel your arousal dripping from you as your mind grew heavy with lust.

Suddenly, Jake pushed away from you, practically throwing himself across the porch. You whined at the loss, brow furrowed in confusion as you took in the state of him. He was panting hard, almost crouched as he gripped the porch railing to steady himself. His eyes were still glowing, brighter than they were previously, but fading in and out as he calmed down.

“Jake,” you murmured, “are you okay?”

“Not like this,” he said, more to himself than to you. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What are you talking about? Jake, you’re worrying me.”

He looked at you then, taking in your disheveled state as he righted himself. A mixture of regret and longing adorned his face as he spoke.

“I gave that mark to you during a moment of frenzy,” he admitted, gesturing to the bite in question. “I was so scared that you weren’t going to make it, and the frenzy magic was already in overdrive. I gave it to you without thinking, and I’m sorry.”

“Jake,” you said slowly, taking small steps towards him as if you might scare him off otherwise. “I’m not mad about that at all, but why are you suddenly acting this way?”

“Because,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “because I already told you. I want you, Skipper, and I want you to want me back. I want to know that you want me for me and not because of some damn magic that tells us we’re supposed to be together.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing what he was telling you. It was true that you felt a pull towards him that could only be explained by the magic, but it felt so much more than that. Jake was sweet and kind, and he cared for you. He made sure that you were taken care of when you were vulnerable, and he wanted to hear your opinions on things. You did want Jake beyond the magic, but you were more than willing to take the time to prove that to him.

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Can we,” he swallowed thickly, eyes hopeful as they searched you. “Can we take it a little slow? Maybe spend some time alone together?”

“You mean like on dates?” You smiled, standing in front of him now and batting your lashes at him. A grin tugged on the corner of his lips as he looked down at you, giving you a nod.

“Yeah. I want to take you out on a date.”

“Just the one?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, a full-blown grin on his face now.

“Well, I was hoping you’d give me more than just that,” he teased back, leaning into you again. You tapped a finger on your chin thoughtfully.

“I dunno,” you hummed, fighting back the smile that threatened to overtake you. “I guess we’ll just have to see how the first one goes, won’t we?”

“I have full confidence in myself that I’ll be able to convince you of that second date.”

“Come on, Crooner,” you laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. “Let’s get changed before we catch a cold or something.”

About a half hour later, you were dressed in a pair of oversized sweats and an old t-shirt - both belonging to Jake. The two of you were huddled up on the couch underneath a blanket, some random movie thrown on to fill the silence. Your legs were curled under you as you rested against Jake’s side, his arms wrapped around you as you played with his fingers.

“You bit him?” You huffed out a laugh as Jake chuckled. “Why?”

“Because Bradley gets a little big for his britches sometimes,” Jake defended. “He knew I had an interest in you and what we were, and he still pressed his luck. Even with the mark on your neck. ”

“Boys,” you exclaimed with a roll of your eyes. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as the movie continued to drone on in the background.

“Jake,” you hummed thoughtfully, “do you regret giving me this mark?”

He stiffened against you, and you chanced a glance up at him. His lips were pressed into a firm line, brow furrowed as he looked at you.

“Absolutely not,” he bit out. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just,” you hesitated, still fidgeting with his fingers as you looked down, “it’s just been one thing after the other since you gave it to me. Am I really worth the trouble?”

“Skipper,” he said firmly, cupping your jaw and making you look at him. “I will never regret you, okay? Even if you decide that this isn’t something you want, I will live the rest of my life knowing that I had the privilege of having you even for a moment.”

His eyes were sincere as they held your gaze, and you suddenly felt silly for doubting him. You nodded, willing the tears that prickled behind your eyes to go away. You sniffed before settling back down against him, basking in the feeling of him stroking a hand through your hair.

“Jake! We can’t find Skipper anywh-”

You jumped as the front door burst open to reveal your friends, Bob at the front of the pack. All of you stared at one another before you raised an eyebrow at them.

“Are you coming in or not?” You snapped, fixing them all with a glare. Jake turned the TV off as the squad filed in, taking seats wherever there was one available. Once everyone was settled, you continued.

“Finally decide on how you’re going to lie to me some more? Whatever you came up with, I sure hope it’s better than the ones you were telling me before.”

The group had the decency to look ashamed. Bob gave you an apologetic look as he faced you from where he sat in one of the recliners.

“We never wanted to lie to you, Y/n,” he explained. “But would you have believed the truth?”

“I might have,” you countered. “You could have at least tried.”

“Would you trust an outsider that you barely knew with a secret like this?” Javy chimed in. He made a good point, and your silence answered for you.

“I wanted to tell you, Skipper,” Bob continued, “but it wasn’t my secret to tell. And with all the stuff between you and Jake, it just seemed like it would be so much to throw at you.”

“I get that,” you conceded, nodding slowly. “But Jake’s already told me most of everything, so no more lying to me, okay? I need to know and be kept in the loop moving forward okay?”

Everyone looked at each other before nodding at you. You gave them a small smile before letting out a relieved breath.

“Good,” you chirped. “Now that that’s settled, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starved.”

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buckyarchives · 1 year

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Metal Arms and Short Skirts | Bucky Barnes. [1]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. while Bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, and you're more than happy to help him.

word count: 5.6k author note: this started as a small, very self indulgent short story that i had no plans of finishing nor posting but here i am. this is also a sort of mini story while write a much longer/ complex story. i hope to have this finished by the end of jan. my inbox is open for prompts to write as small drabbles! enjoy!

outfit reference (because it kinda important, but you can change it if you'd like; this is just for visuals) outfit one and outfit two

story playlist here

READ ON AO3 | masterlist

A soft knock at the door echoed and Bucky’s eyes sprung open, making himself aware of his surroundings as he began rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes with his flesh hand. His gaze pans to the small clock, ‘6:00 am’, it read.

“Buck? You up?” Bucky’s head snapped toward the familiar voice. He called out a quick, muffled response while slipping on some pants. Bucky knotted his eyebrows as he crept towards the door, drowsiness still lingering. A small scowl decorated Bucky’s face, the knock catching him off-guard. Today was a scheduled free for Bucky.

Bucky opened the door to be met with Steve's face, “what is it?” Bucky asked.

“I told you last night, we gotta get to the lab and fix your arm.” Steve replied, eyes glancing at the bent and crushed panels on his forearm. Sparring was fun until Steve throws his shield a little too fast and Bucky is just a little too late to catch or dodge. “And this is the only time today that Tony is free to fix it, so put a shirt on, and let's go.”

Bucky grumbled under his breath at the orders, he wasn't one to sleep in or mess around with his strict schedule but it had been a rough week. A mission went wrong, and a trip to the med wing. Bucky wanted to be just a little self-indulgent and maybe have a late start by choice. He turned and grabbed a black, sleeveless shirt from his closet. Sleeveless made the process a lot easier and he prayed to any god that Tony wasn't going to be a pain in the ass this morning.

“Ready?” Steve spoke up as Bucky emerged from his room, a quick pat on the shoulder as he nodded in response.

The two boys walked side by side towards the med wing, this was the 3rd visit to the lab this week, and it was only Thursday. Bucky decided then and there that were a couple of too many times for his liking. He hoped this went by fast. On the way they both ran into a certain black widow, Steve nearly tripped over Natasha as she walked out of the training room.

“Hey boys, where you headed too?” she spoke as she began to walk with them down the hall, a bead of sweat dripping from her forehead.

“Last night's match got a little too fast and I accidentally jammed the shield in Buck's arm, headed to Tony to get it fixed real quick,” Steve spoke, Natasha eyed the smashed vibranium.

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Tony’s in DC right now?”

“Huh?”

“Flew out last night, had some emergency meeting. Said it was no big deal.”

Bucky scoffed under his breath. “Well I'm sure someone is there to fill in or Tony would have sent me a message,” Steve said, hopeful as always.

Bucky wasn't sure if he was happier or more annoyed at the fact Tony wouldn't be working on his arm. Pro; it's not tony. Con; it's a stranger– unless Bruce pulls a medical engineering Ph.D. out of his ass, which in full honestly would not surprise anyone too much.

An elevator ride and too many hallways later, the trio walked toward the lab, no one looked to be inside from the outside, and Bucky peered through the windows. He thought how bad it would be to turn around and go back to bed now, but Steve made everyone walk in– ‘just to check.

It was quiet for a moment, besides the subtle sound of whirring machines. Soon the large lab door slides open, “I'm so sorry I'm late! I'm filling in for Tony, he had a meeting.”

you walked through the door with a large iPad and a couple of books in hand, you set them down on a bench with a loud thud. Natasha said your name surprised, calling your attention to her.

“I didn’t know you were working at the compound, did Tony just transfer you?” she spoke, Bucky and Steve didn’t recognize you but Natasha seemed to be familiar.

You smiled brightly at Natasha, “yes. Tony wants me here permanently instead of California to give Helen a break from traveling here from Korea every time someone gets a bullet wound; which seemed to happen too often. ” you spoke confidently, “I think Tony just wants me closer to him.”

Natasha chuckled softly and rolled her eyes, “oh, I'm sure. I think you are the only one besides Pepper that can make him slow down.”

“Tony? Slow down?” Steve perked up, joking along.

“Yeah because I'm the only one he trusts with his oh-so-precious work,” you spoke sarcastically before turning towards Steve and Bucky, holding your hand out to greet the two super-soldiers. Introducing yourself, Steve spoke your name back to you, and you smiled.

“It's nice to meet you, and don't worry about being late– we just got here.” Steve shook your hand firmly before you turned to Bucky.

You brought your hand up to shake his hand while your eyes widened and filled with curiosity once you saw his left arm, you attempted to hide it, but Bucky noticed it quickly. He shook your hand. “It's nice to finally meet you and work on– I mean with you Mr. Barnes” you stumbled over your words.

“Call me Bucky, please.” Bucky replied, his hand falling back to his side.

Bucky wore a confused look after he noticed your attire, questioning if you truly were the engineer slash doctor to work on his arm in Tony Starks place. Your hair was done up, you had a tiny, baby-blue shirt on, made out of bunched-up tulle fabric, it was off the shoulder with the sheer tulle fabric puffing up on your sleeves.

Your skirt was matching and incredibly short and tight, despite the shortness, a small slit was on up your thigh. Bucky’s eyes fell all the way down to the floor, white boots that wrapped tightly around your calves and stopped around your knee. Not missing the huge, chunky heel that definitely gave you a few inches.

Muffled small talk between you and Natasha started as Bucky took a seat next to Steve, you moved confidently around the lab as if you owned it, pulling the specific tools and materials to start working. Bucky watch you curiously and thought despite your utter confidence and bliss, you looked out of place in the lab.

Your outfit felt so out of place; colorful, fun, and playful against the lab scenery. Bucky imagined seeing you on the new york city streets, walking around with a young and trendy outfit, a model-like strut like you owned the city. The usual sight of scientists here had a boring, toned-down outfit, usually under a lab coat. You sported none of that.

“In full transparency Bucky, since you joined the team I've been asking Tony for a while to work with you, I have many ideas for your arm.” He snapped out of his trance once you addressed him, head turned towards Bucky as you ran your hands under the sink. “I hope you're comfortable with that.”

Bucky just shrugged in response, you laughed lightly at his response. “Well then, can you sit over here for me?” you pointed to a lowered workbench in the center of the room, and Bucky plopped down on it next to your books. Natasha took his place next to Steve across from bucky

Natasha spoke up, “Stark get you your own lab yet? I know how you are about your space.”

Your warm laughter filled Bucky’s ears again, he found himself enjoying the sound ringing in his head. “Tony said as long as I get along with everyone and stop blowing things up I could stay– though I think he has no room to speak.” you joked.

“I have no doubts though, he seemed pretty adamant about making me the head of the lab and medical wing here?”

“Impressing everyone as always I see,” Natasha spoke warmly, you scrunched your face up slightly, smiling shyly at the compliment.

You caught Bucky off guard for a moment once you asked for permission to grab his lower forearm, already one point better than Tony as he usually would just grab it harshly and get to work. “I try my best.”

“It seems you’ve been working with Tony for while, how come I've never seen you around?” Steve asked, he leaned forward with his elbows propped against his knees. Curious eyes placed on you, Bucky knew that look.

A concentrated gaze took over your face, and your tongue stuck out a little on the side as you worked slowly to get the crushed plates out of Bucky’s arm. Bucky took note of your almost perfect nails, they were long and glossy with a baby blue color and gems. Matching your outfit.

“Well, Tony definitely put me to work so I haven't had much time to catch up with the avengers. I know Natasha when she was “Tony's assistant.’” you snort, throwing your hands up around the assistant. Natasha smirked.

Steve was impressed– to say the least, humming in response. “Tony has taken a liking to me and always finds jobs for me so I’m constantly traveling and working. I've been pretty busy the past few years so it would make sense to have missed you.”

“Oh, and you have like a million Ph.D.’s” Natasha added.

“Only five.”

Natasha throws her hands up dramatically, blowing raspberries in a mocking manner. “only.”

“A very impressive resume.” Steve teased, Bucky couldn’t help but be impressed as well, especially with being so young. He was also impressed at the delicacy of which you worked, your hands were so steady and Bucky could barely notice you working. More points ahead of Stark.

“All that and I don't think I’ve ever seen you in a bad outfit.” Natasha teased, her eyes traveling up your outfit. “Or hair.”

A shy smile grew on your face, “as long as it doesn’t affect my work, the short skirts stay on.” you winked playfully towards Natasha as she rolled her eyes at the gesture.

“I’m just glad you finally are settling down in one lab, I missed seeing you around.” Natasha smiled fondly at you. “Found a place to stay yet?”

“Yes! I found a nice apartment close by, Tony wanted to give me a room here but I declined,” you said. Natasha put on an overexaggerated frown.

All the crushed panels were gone and the hardware inside was almost put back in place. Natasha and Steve were both in their own bubble, chatting away about some old mission. Bucky sat staring at you and your hands as you worked. His eyes shamefully traveled towards your thighs, your skirt was traveling up and a little bit and more of the skin on your thighs could be seen.

His head snapped away and towards the two avengers when Natasha's phone went off. apparently, Agent Hill needed the two so after a quick goodbye from Steve and a teased, exaggerated wink from Natasha, the two were gone and Bucky was left alone with you. Bucky tried to keep his eyes averted from your thighs or exposed stomach from your cropped top, but the growing redness on his face said otherwise.

“I really do hope to work with you in the future, make some better use of this arm, yeah?” you spoke up, beginning to replace the old panels with new ones, putting them together like puzzle pieces.

“My arm’s perfectly fine.” Bucky mumbled.

You nodded slowly, “yes, it is. But, it can be improved. I can add some new tech, you know? Make it stronger, more flexible, add some cybernetic defenses or maybe some built-in sensory rays, and build something in like Natasha bracelets, that deliver some powerful electric discharge.”

Bucky listens to you ramble on about his cyborg arm, your face lit up as you talked about all the possibilities. Your hands are still steady at work on the vibranium. “Is all that really necessary?”

“I think it is, considering fighting is your job. But, if you don't think so, I won’t anything, it’s just an idea.” your eyes are still laser-focused on his arm, not looking at you. Bucky’s eyes glanced back down to your thigh. “And extra tech would make your arm so much cooler.”

Bucky scoffed, “this thing is not cool.”

Your eyes finally left his arm and you looked up at Bucky through your lashes, “I think it’s pretty cool” you smiled slightly at him before going back at his arm.

Cool? he doesn't think anyone's ever called his arm cool. Bucky's eyes left you and he looked forward, defocusing and staring off into space. “Anything you want to be changed or added?”

A few snarky responses came to mind but they fell short on Bucky’s tongue. Bucky wasn’t going to respond and let the silence answer for him, but his eyes flashed toward the blood-red color on his shoulders.

“Maybe get rid of the star.” Bucky sighed, he said it like it was a sacred confession. Shame laced in his tone. Like no matter how hard he tried to redeem himself, or erase his mind of Hydra– the star painted on his shoulder would never let him rid of it all. Like a branding.

You smiled fondly at him from across the lab, with no disgust or fear. An unusual sight recently with every other agent recoiling from his presence by just living. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you like black? I can do black, oh! Or gold, that'd be cool.”

Bucky could only watch in awe as you contiuned to mumble random colors under your breath, fascinated by the fact you could be anything other than afraid of the machine of an arm. Your wheeled chair scooted closer and Bucky could feel like puffy tule fabric against his leg, his eyes averted sideway, towards your body again. Your skirt was making him nervous, how did you wear outfits like this to work every day?

You had started to notice Bucky’s eyes ghosting over your outfit mid-conversation with Steve, brushing it off then so you wouldn't embarrass the man in front of his peers. But it was starting to bother you now, did your outfit look bad? Was something out of place?

“Something wrong with my outfit, Mr. Barnes?”

“Bucky.” he corrected, his eye darted toward you, a red flush growing on his face now that you noticed his lingering eyes. He was a fool for thinking you wouldn't notice. “Your skirt scares me.”

Your hands stopped working, being taken aback by Bucky’s response. You look up at him confused, a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean this with no disrespect, but it's just very short…” his sentence trails up, leaving it at that in hopes of not offending you or writing himself off as a creep. His face was flushed with red so he wasn’t sure how convincing it was, “not that I was- uh, looking at you like that”

‘Well,” your eyes fell back on the metal panel, screw in hand. “I might call you a gentleman for caring about my decently.” you teased, Bucky let out a small sigh knowing you didn’t take his concerns the wrong way.

“But don't worry, sergeant. I’m wearing safety shorts under,” you smirked, getting up from your seat and swiftly pulling your skirt down. “All done! Do your little arm thing.’

Bucky was caught off guard. Eyebrows furrowed in your direction, “how do you know about that?”

“Like I haven't mentioned enough, I’m very familiar with your work. I've seen videos of you fighting, you do that thing where you like spin in to stretch it out.” you laughed, backing up and attempting a half-assed version of imitating him and spinning your arm in a small circle. Bucky stifled back an amused laugh at the sight, pushing back the thought of thinking you looked quite cute doing it.

Bucky shook his head, cocking it slightly to the right. And did the arm thing. Watching your face as he did it. Weirdly enough, you smiled with amusement at the sight. ‘“Yeah, that thing!”

“You are very interesting, has anyone told you that?”

“Yes and I’m choosing to take it as a compliment. Now I have to clean up here and get some other things done, you're free to go Mr. Barnes.” you put away the tools and discharged the old metal plates to be melted down for other uses later.

“Bucky.” he repeated.

Turning to him with books and iPad in your arms. “Yes, sorry. Bucky.” you smiled at him and walked past him towards the doorway, you practically strutted out of the lab. Calling back at him before leaving.

“It was wonderful meeting you!” and you were gone with no room to respond.

Bucky stood slightly dumbfounded and a little… impressed? In the middle of the lab before seeing the text from steve to meet him in the training room, a groan escaped his mouth hoping he could have one off day.

What made everything worse is that he had to endure a few too many direct hits from Steve and Sam during their sparing session. Bucky'smind had been somewhere else for the past few hours, puzzled since usually a good training sesh would help him tap out of everything. But his mind seemed plagued with you.

The way you spoke about his arm like it was the most amazing thing ever like it hadn’t been the cause of so many deaths. Your complete and utter confidence in your every move and sound. Your outfit, your skirt, and the way it kept riding up your thighs.

Bucky needed a nap.

******

The commons room was close to silent, weirdly silent. it was midday and Bucky sat on a chair, close to a window with his head down into a book. Sam sat close to Steve at the bar, with small and soft chatter. Wanda and Clint were lazily sprawled across the couch, some movie or sitcom playing silently, yet still creating the most noise in the room. The occasional hearty laugh comes from Steve or Sam as they converse competing with the television.

A few chapters later of Bucky’s book the soft sound of a familiar heels clicking entered the quiet common room. His eyes attempted to stay on the pages but curiosity got the best of him and Bucky raised his head slowly to look at you, you were standing close right next to Sam and Steve talking about something. Steve had that big goofy smile on his face and Sam was shaking your hand, Bucky assumed this was the first time Sam has met you.

Your outfit was more mellow than his last interaction with you. A white high-neck tank top hugged your body and another very short black denim skirt that had pleads in it. Over all of that was crocheted black sweater, it hug low and off your shoulder. It looked so thin and the loops so big, bucky pondered on why you were even wearing it. Sam laughed loudly and Bucky wondered what was so funny.

A gasp came from Wanda and her eyes widened in your direction. “Oh my god! Your boots are so adorable!” everyone's head turned to the redhead as she got up from the couch frantically to get a closer look at your knee-high, skin-tight boots. “Are those the steve madden boots? I've heard they're a pain to get on?”

You laughed and Bucky got whiplash, he forgot how nice it sounded. Rolling onto your heels as you looked down at your boots, looking back up at Wanda with a soft smile. “Yeah, they are” Clint's head was now perked up and everyone in the room now had their eyes on you. You didn’t falter under their gazes. “And yes, squeezing my claves into these should count as a physical exercise.”

“I've been trying to find some forever, they've been sold out everywhere,” Wanda said. “They look amazing on you!”

A large smile grew on your face and Bucky swears he saw a sliver of shiny metal shine above your top set of teeth, as it’s said curiosity kills the cat and he was already up from his chair to investigate. Quiet footsteps brought him close beside Steve.

“What’s up, cyborg.” Sam greeted him and Bucky shrugged back a mumbled nothing. Wanda was still gushing about your outfit and Bucky was trying not to look like a total creep staring at your face to see what was in your mouth.

“Party going on here or something? Without me too, I’m offended.” Clint joined the circle around the bar. Your head perked in his direction.

A few loud steps toward Clint as your finger swiped at your iPad. “Mr. Barton, I have some new arrow designs for you! I got pretty impressive ones courtesy of Dr. pym.” as you spoke to Clint, you were much closer to Bucky now, maybe he was staring too hard. He watched your lips move, noticing the metal ring sat above your top row teeth, resembling something of a bull ring. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Pym? Isn't he the one that made the suit for that dude that can shrink and get big?” Sam spoke up. You stifled a laugh, shaking your head.

“Your talking about Scott Lang right? Dr. Pym likes to call him Ant-man.” you corrected Sam swiftly. “I worked with Dr. Pym briefly years ago, he owes me a few favors so now Clint gets some cool arrows.”

“Hell yeah!” Clint said.

“Alright I have to head to the lab soon, I got some new tech for you too Sam so I expect both you and Clint to meet me there tomorrow to play around with it” you pointed your index finger toward sam with a coy grin on your face.

Sam's eyebrow perked up, “i thought you were a doctor? Like Helen?” he asked with his arms crossed across his chest.

“For your information, I have a very impressive engineering resume. Tony wouldn’t like me so much if I just treated bullet wounds.” grin was still apparent on your face as you spoke. Your sheer confidence intimidated Bucky, whether he’d admit that to himself or not.

“I have to head out now, it was a pleasure meeting you guys.”

Everyone except Bucky said a short goodbye as your clicking heels faded into the distance slowly. Wanda practically skipped back to the couch to watch her sitcom. Bucky must have been staring too hard because he earned a harsh nudge to his side from Sam. “Dude, you got a bad staring problem.”

“What?” his eyebrows still furrowed, the creases around his forehead accentuated more.

“Bucky, you were staring at her lips the moment you walked over here,” Steve added, eyebrows raises and a teased look across his face. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“She had– like something…” Bucky trailed off, motioning his index finger toward his mouth, trying to find the words to describe whatever was in your mouth. “It looked like a ring or something.”

“It's a smiley piercing.”

Bucky winched, “why would it be there though?”

A quick laugh came from Sam as he playfylly slapped his shoulder. “Man, you really are old.”

An offended look grew on Bucky’s face but before he could protest against Sam or send a snarky comment back, Clint spoke up. “Maybe he's just saying that to cover up for thinking she's cute.” Clint teased Bucky, a shit-eating grin across his face.

“Whatever,” Bucky spoke, deciding his time of relaxing was over and he needed to hit the gym before dinner.

But before he could leave the room a quick yell from Clint could be heard, “the robots not denying it!”

Bucky didn’t say anything to entertain that comment. Continuing his way to the gym, followed by a grunt and a quick roll of his eyes. He totally is not thinking of you or your outfits.

*****

It was early morning and the smell of buttermilk pancakes filled bucky’s nostrils, reminding him slightly of when his Ma would cook for him and Steve after a sleepover. But instead, it was Sam making the pancakes, swaying ever so slightly on his feet as he hums to some song. Steve sat next to him with a newspaper in hand. Natasha joined their breakfast a little late, having just come back from a mission.

Sam handed him a plate of food and it didn’t take long for him to finish it and put the empty plate back in the sink to be cleaned later. Steve piped up, “anyone wants to join me on my run this morning? Sam?”

Sam turned the stove off and put away the dirty mixing bowl, “Nah man, I gotta head outside soon and test out that new tech with Clint”

Natasha's head perked up in interest, asking Sam if he was meeting you. A quick nod and hum in agreement.

“She refuses to tell me what she did to my wings, said it has to be a surprise.” he grinned. Bucky has started to notice the way you’re becoming a prominent member of this ‘team’, with your name seemly popping up in every conversation somehow.

Everyone was growing to like you more and more. Bucky could understand why that is but so much about you was so unknown, curiosity filled his mind whenever he thought about you. That is, he totally doesn't spend his off time thinking of you.

“I’m more than positive that girl is going to have ahold of the entire team’s tech by the end of the month,” Natasha spoke. “She’s beyond impressive in her element.”

Bucky thought of a stupid idea for a moment, not being able to hold himself back. “Can I come with?” Bucky asked Sam.

Everyone's head perked towards the brunette, the looks across everyone’s face could only be described as udder amusement but also confusion.

“I mean, I don't see why not.” Sam shrugged, almost unsure of his answer.

Natasha scoffed playfully. “I think Clint was right.”

“What?” Bucky spoke.

“Clint thinks you have a crush on her.” Natasha spoke, sporting an amused grin. “said, and I quote, ‘he was staring at her and her lips like his life depended on it.’”

An almost offended look grew on Bucky’s face, “was not”

Natasha just shrugged, but still wore a smirk on her face as he watched Bucky leave the kitchen next to Sam. Steve's eyes were still locked onto his newspaper like the old man he is but Natasha couldn't contain herself.

“Can you tell when bucky’s interested in people?” she asked Steve.

Steve thought for a moment, “I mean back then he would talk sweetly to any girl he could get on the dance floor, but now. I’m not so sure.”

Natasha hummed in response. “I don't know though, bucky was giving her some looks in the lab and also in the common rooms yesterday,” Steve added quickly.

“Interesting.”

On the other side of the building, Sam and sucky walked side by side as they approached the entrance to the training yard. With the shining sunlight hitting their faces, Bucky kinda wished he grabbed sunglasses.

You and Clint stood in the middle, a couple of meters away from some targets, assuming your arrow test runs have already started. Your head perked towards the two avengers and a warm smile grew on your face as you brought your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun.

“Hey guys!” you yelled, waving your hand in their direction. Bucky was surprised to see you in just a plain black t-shirt and shorts, your shorts were still very short. But at this point that didn’t surprise him. You greeted the both of them, with a notepad in your hands. “goodmorning”

“Alright, watcha got for me doc.” Sam started right into it, jokingly rubbing his hands together in greed.

You laughed softly, “we’ll get to you when it's your turn.’

“I’m excited to see Clint use his Pymarrows.” you turned towards Clint with eyes full of pure desire. Bucky might just have a staring problem or he might have just thought you kinda did look cute.

You pulled a few sets of arrows out of a case and started to ramble on about them, using terms bucky wished he understood. “Okay Clint, you’re going to shoot this arrow up high so the arrow hits straight into the ground, far away from us though.”

You pulled a second arrow out, “and then shoot this one forward right after that so they meet in the air, do you understand? Can you do that?”

Clint nodded yet had a confused look on his face. “Yes, but what's gonna happen?

“You’ll see,” you spoke with a sly smirk, the look on your face concerned the three men. Even more, after a mumbled ‘tony is going to kill me’ escaped your lips.

Clint positioned himself to shoot the arrow high up, and it went up. Next, grabbing the second one from you and swiftly getting in the correct position to hit the first one mid-air, letting the arrow go and as it flew threw the air and came in contact with the first one, Bucky (along with the rest of the group) breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

Tony was so going to kill you.

“Holy shit.” Sam breathed out.

The first arrow Clint shot grew ten times its size. hitting straight into the lawn, probably leaving a meter-wide hole as it stood up straight into the air, the height of an old tree. Bucky had to crane his head up to see the top. The three boy’s mouths gaped open at the sight while it looked like you were going to burst from excitement.

“Yes! It worked!” you jumped up and down, dramatically throwing your fist in the air like a child. “That's so fucking cool!”

“Oh my god” was the only thing Clint could say, muttering under his breath with his bow still in his hands. “I feel like I’m not responsible enough for this”

Bucky realized why Natasha spoke so highly of you now, he was utterly impressed and his curiosity only grew larger at this moment. He let out a breath and realized he was in for it now.

Bucky found somewhere to sit as he watched you work on arrows and other technology as Clint practiced with a plethora of trick arrows. Seeing the look in your eyes as you explain how they worked or watching your invention sparked something in Bucky, you looked like you were glowing.

Bucky continued to keep close eyes on you while you explained to Sam his new technology, it was also nice seeing Sam's face light up as he tested all his new features, you definitely were having an effect at the compound.

“Hah, soon enough I'll be able to take you easily, Barnes.” Sam snarked towards Bucky.

“In your dreams, Wilson.” a soft smile rose to Bucky’s face. You notice and realized that was the first time you had seen Bucky’s smile.

Sam went back to fly around, testing his new cruise configurations or new thrusters. You were standing closer to Bucky now, your head turned to him. “You should do that more often,” you spoke softly in his direction.

“What?” Bucky’s head turned to see you looking fondly down at him.

“Smile, your smile is nice.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, he was more than sure a slight red tint grew to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He panned his head back to Sam, beginning to fidget by playing with the grass on the ground beside him like a small child. You soon joined Bucky, sitting next to him on the ground.

The awkward silence between the two of you killed Bucky, his head panned back over to you soon enough. You were writing down what Bucky assumed to be notes, your tongue slightly sticking out at the corner in concentration. He noted the plainness of your outfit again.

“No cool outfit today?” Bucky asked innocently

Your eyes met his and he crumbled, you smiled so brightly toward him. “You think my outfits are cool?” you spoke, you aren’t going to lie and say you weren't basking in the validation from the super-soldier. You spent too much time and money on your outfits for people to not amend you for it. You felt slightly giddy, today was a good day.

Bucky shrugged in response, fumbling over his words slightly. Losing his focus while you gave him such a look. “I mean, uh– yeah, they're a lot, but they're cool…”

Smooth, so smooth james.

“Thank you,” you said, going back to writing down notes. Bucky let out a breath. “I’m taking advantage of the compounds gym so I don't have to pay a membership at a public one anymore. I came from a workout before this.”

Bucky just nodded and hummed in agreement. Clint cleaned up his arrows and took one last amused look at the still very large arrow sticking out the front of the ground.

“You gonna take care of that or..?”

You giggled under your breath, squinting your eyes to look up at Clint. “Yeah, I’ll shrink it down and explain to Tony why theirs a big hole in the ground later. You can go if you’d like, I’ll drop off extra trick arrows later.”

You smiled warmly at Clint and grabbed the rest of his stuff before bidding you goodbye, “tell birdy I said bye, see you later lovebirds!” Clint shouted out as he headed for the doors. You shook your head at the teasing comment.

Bucky just felt more warmth spread to his ears.

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barns x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel #james buchanan barnes

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Falling For the Devil [Part one: "The Night You Met"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader [Series Masterlist]

Summary: You have a bad Monday back at work and grab a few drinks at a nearby bar with a co-worker who takes the opportunity to have a certain attractive lawyer buy you a drink.

How you meet Matthew Murdock and then repeatedly embarrass yourself.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: So I'm finally sharing a few of these installments on tumblr, but I've been posting them on AO3 since the beginning of the year. Currently there are 74 parts posted on AO3 (almost 300k words total) and still counting. I update this series a few times a week and I figured I'd finally share a few installments here and maybe, eventually, post them all on tumblr? Please heed the warnings--there is a ton of sex later in this series (y'all who've read it know what I'm talking about) and some hurt/no comfort for a bit later during what I deemed Big Angst. If you haven't heard of this series, I certainly hope you enjoy it!

Tapping your fingers lightly against the cold bottle in your hands, your eyes fixed on your beer, you blew out a rough breath. Classic rock was playing in the dimly lit dive bar, a random one you and Katy had last minute ducked inside after work. Neither of you had been here before but after the rough Monday back at work, both of you were dying for a drink and it didn't really matter where.

"I feel like I'm chasing a goddamned dead-end," you complained, glaring at the half-finished beer.

"Maybe you need a new angle?" Katy suggested.

She threw back the rest of her beer from her place beside you before raising a hand, flagging down the surly bartender. The older woman behind the bar headed back towards you both and Katy ordered another drink.

You were lost in thought for a moment, focusing on the story Ellison had been telling you to drop for over a week now. Running a hand through your hair exasperatedly, you picked up your beer in your other hand and took a long pull from the bottle. Your head was buzzing from more than just the alcohol in your system as you swallowed the drink down.

"Didn't Ellison give you a new piece today?" Katy asked, her attention returning to you when the new beer was set in front of her.

"Yeah," you answered her with an eye roll. "Fluff piece on the local animal shelter. Which, don't get me wrong," you said, raising a hand, "I love dogs and all, but I'm not really in this to write about dogs. I didn't bust my ass to get onto The Bulletin to write fluff." You sighed, eyeing Katy beside you. "What's he got you working on now?"

"That warehouse murder last night," she answered.

"Fuck," you grumbled, slamming your head to the bar counter. Immediately you regretted the action, raising your head and pulling a face as you rubbed at the sticky dampness the bar counter had left behind. "Ugh," you grunted. "I'm on his shit list this month, aren't I?"

"Yup," Katy answered bluntly. "You know he doesn't like any of us chasing dangerous stories about mobsters after…everything that happened a little while back."

You groaned in frustration before picking up your beer and finishing the last dregs of it. Katy nudged you abruptly in the arm, just about causing you to spill the beer. You swallowed, turning to shoot her a pointed look.

"Isn't that Karen Page?" she whispered, gesturing her head towards the blonde at the pool table. "The one everyone whispered about saying Ellison supposedly fired her because she might know Daredevil's identity?"

Your eyes turned to the pool table, examining the blonde who was laughing with two other gentlemen. "Yeah, looks like her," you answered.

"Now she had some good shit she wrote," Katy said with a grin. "You know, before Ellison started doling out pieces on animal shelters."

Your eyes returned to your empty beer, but Katy continued to stare at the pool table, fingers drumming on the bar.

"Maybe we should stop talking about work," you said. "The point of grabbing a drink was to forget about this shitty Monday. I'm currently not forgetting."

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind forgetting about my Monday by getting underneath him," Katy replied, her eyes still on the pool table as she gestured her beer towards someone.

You glanced back over, your eyes landing on the man drinking back a beer with Karen Page. It was obvious Katy was drooling over the dark haired gentleman with the red glasses and cane. His jawline was perfect, his hair practically begging to have fingers run through it, his body clearly well-built under that tight dress shirt with buttons tempted to pop when he moved just right, and he had an absolutely breathtaking smile.

"Isn't that Murdock from Nelson, Murdock, and Page?" Katy said after a moment, her eyes narrowing. "They're the guys who took down Fisk. Shit, he's hotter in person." When you didn't respond, Katy glanced back at you, eyebrows shooting up on her forehead. "Is your silence you disagreeing about that man’s perfection?"

You shook your head, your eyes landing back on the man. It almost seemed like he was looking at you and Katy at the bar, but considering he was blind, that would have been impossible.

"He's attractive, yeah," you agreed with a shrug.

Katy's eyes widened at you. "Really? That's it? That guy looks like sex on legs and I'm pretty sure I've heard rumors that he is amazing in bed and…that’s all you’ve got?"

"Your point?" you asked.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked in disbelief. "You wouldn't want a night with that guy?"

You let out a heavy breath, your eyes returning to the now empty bottle of beer as you debated on another or just going home and making dinner and writing that pointless article for Ellison.

"I wouldn’t know what to even say to a guy like that," you muttered. "You know outside of interviews I am shit with human interaction."

Katy chuckled lightly before shaking her head. "You do have a knack for being awkward. But you wouldn't need to say anything, just let him fuck you senseless as you're screaming his name on your back."

Katy abruptly threw out some light, breathy fake moans that had you slapping her arm sharply and your face burning up.

"Pretty sure you could handle that ," she teased you with a light laugh.

"You're a fucking animal," you joked, burying your reddening face in your hands.

"You're thinking about it though," she shot back.

You glanced at the man between your fingers, face still buried in your hands. He was holding a beer in one hand as something that looked like a smirk broke across his face. He was standing by the pool table, his gaze in your direction as his friends focused on the game they were playing. Your heart sped up at the thought of him throwing you onto your bed and you swore you saw his lips pull up even higher before you turned away.

"Would literally never happen," you mumbled. "Guys who look like that don't talk to chicks like me."

"Sexy and awkward?" Katy supplied.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Only one of those is an accurate description," you replied. "Anyway, I should probably get back. Make dinner and slam my head into the wall repeatedly as I write that piece for the next issue."

"Or you could stay and see if you're awkward enough to scare away Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest lawyer," Katy suggested with a playful grin. "Maybe end up finding God on your back."

She opened her mouth and got out one moan before you kicked her shin.

She laughed, waving a hand at you. "Alright, fine. Let me chug this and I'll leave, too. I've got a lead I need to check out tonight anyway."

You watched her raise the beer to her lips and toss it back, downing the last half of the bottle before slamming it to the counter. You slid off the bar stool and turned to leave only to run head first into someone. You stumbled backwards muttering out an 'oh shit' as your back hit the bar counter, and then your eyes went wide when you saw it was the attractive lawyer you and Katy had just been talking about.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't see you there," you blurted out an apology.

"Neither did I," he answered, a grin spreading across his mouth.

"Right, because you're…" you trailed off quickly realizing how rude it would be to point out his disability.

Katy appeared just beside him, her eyes going wide as she gawked at you, shaking her head sharply.

"Blind?" the man finished for you.

Your cheeks burned as you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He was somehow even more attractive up close and he had a nice, deep voice. For a moment you couldn't help but imagine him on top of you in your bed again and your heart stuttered in your chest.

"And I'm tactless," you breathed out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to literally run into you and then be completely rude. I'm just going to go," you said quickly, trying to skirt around him.

"Or you could buy her a drink," Katy blurted.

Your eyes widened as you stared open-mouthed at her, entirely taken aback. Katy shot you a look, shrugging a shoulder. The man chuckled, the sound drawing your attention back to him beside you. He was grinning in your direction and you internally groaned.

"You want me to buy your friend a drink?" he asked curiously.

Your eyes narrowed to a glare at Katy as you quickly answered him. "She's kidding," you told him. "You know, just a bad joke ," you said, the last two words coming out at Katy between gritted teeth.

"Well," the man mused, "I may not be opposed to the idea."

Your palms immediately began to sweat as Katy sent you a wicked grin. Your heart was thundering wildly in your chest as you chanced a glance back at him. He looked entirely calm and collected as he stood there with a charming smile on his face.

“That’s uh, that’s nice and all, but I actually have work to finish tonight–”

“No you don’t,” Katy cut in sharply, eyes narrowed. “You could write that article in thirty minutes with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue. You don’t have work.”

The man whose first name you were still unaware of chuckled good-naturedly beside you at Katy’s words. “I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but that sounds like quite the talent you have,” he teased.

Katy snickered loudly as you audibly groaned, shrinking back into yourself. This was easily the most humiliated you had felt in a long time.

She turned towards the man next and pointedly told him, “She had a bad day, she’d love another drink.” And then her attention returned to you, a sly grin on her face as she said, “Now I actually have a lead to follow up with. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” She proceeded to mouth ‘you’re welcome’ before she turned and left.

You were torn between trying to chase after her and feeling obligated to converse with this insanely attractive man who was for some reason giving you the time of day. You were tightly gripping the strap of your crossbody bag with indecision as you stood there uncomfortably. Thankfully he spoke and broke the awkward tension.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked, gesturing towards the bar beside you both. “You could maybe tell me your name?” he suggested. “And why you’re having such a bad Monday?”

“Look,” you began, “you really don’t have to. She was just being a pain in my ass thinking that she was–” You stopped short. You couldn’t exactly finish that thought and tell him she was trying to help you talk to him because you obviously thought he was attractive and you would never approach him on your own. That would have been even more embarrassing. “I just–you’re clearly here with your friends and I don’t want to pull you away,” you quickly shot out instead.

His dark brows rose up behind his glasses, a slight amused grin forming on his lips. “Oh? You were paying attention to who I was with before you even ran into me?”

Wincing, you wished a bus would just barrel through the bar and hit you, putting you out of your misery and ending this embarrassing conversation. How the fuck were you even supposed to deny that?

So you decided to do what you always did when things got too uncomfortable–run.

“You know what, I really do need to go,” you said, quickly turning and stepping away.

“Wait,” he called out.

And you did. For some unknown reason you actually paused, back still towards him. You could see his two friends at the pool table still enraptured in their game, currently either unaware or uninterested in the fact that he wasn’t back with them.

“Okay, I really am blind, so you’re going to have to actually, you know, acknowledge that you’re still here so I know I’m not just talking to myself right now,” he said.

You cleared your throat nervously, your eyes dropping to your scuffed up dress flats. “Wouldn’t exactly be too out of place in a bar, at least,” you muttered.

He laughed lightly, the sound causing you to glance back at him over your shoulder. He was smiling and the sight nearly gutted you. You wished he’d take off the glasses so you could see the entirety of his face–his eyes were probably as beautiful as the rest of him.

He slid onto the bar stool beside the one you’d just been on, folding up his cane as he patted the seat beside him. “Please, sit. Let me get you a drink,” he offered again.

The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Why, are you just that curious how far I can shove my foot into my mouth?”

Your mouth immediately clamped shut, one of your hands flying up to cover it as your eyes grew wide in horror at how your sarcastic comment actually came across. His eyebrows once again flew all the way up to his forehead, his lip twitching up at the corner in amusement.

“Another one of your curious talents?” he asked with a slight laugh.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, taking a step back. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve probably felt in years,” you blurted. “Which is saying something because I have a tendency to make things incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and I should just really go home now.”

He was fighting the grin on his face as he shook his head. “No, please, don’t be embarrassed. This conversation has honestly been the highlight of my day.”

“I’m glad my mortification brings you joy,” you said flatly, taking another step back, “but I’m pretty sure I’m teetering on the edge of being the first person to actually die of embarrassment. So I should probably really go now.”

“I’m Matthew,” he said, extending his hand out towards you. “Usually I just go by Matt.”

Your eyes dropped down to his extended hand, staring in silent confusion at it. Why the fuck was he offering his hand and introducing himself to you?

He cleared his throat, hand still outstretched. “I know you said you’re a bit awkward and all, so I’ll let you know this is usually the part where you shake my hand and introduce yourself, too.”

“I–” you began, hesitating as you continued eyeing his outstretched hand. “I just told you like five times that I should go…”

“I know, I’m blind, not deaf,” Matt said, grin still intact, causing you to flush further. “But yet you’re still standing here instead of actually leaving. So,” he continued, extending his hand out further towards you, “my name is Matt, and you are?”

“Dying of embarrassment,” you muttered, unable to resist the slight smile on your mouth when he chuckled again.

And then you caved and against your better judgment you shook his hand, offering him your name as you sat on the bar stool beside him.

“That’s a pretty name,” he told you.

“And that sounds like a line,” you quipped back.

He raised a single brow at you this time, the corner of his mouth quirking up. You watched as the bartender made her way over towards the pair of you, the surly expression on her face morphing into a large smile when she saw Matt.

“What can I get you, Murdock?” she asked.

Matt turned towards the woman, a charming smile on his face as he said, “Just another beer, Josie, and whatever this lovely lady is having.” His head tilted towards you and Josie’s eyes followed curiously.

“Uh, just a beer, thanks,” you muttered awkwardly.

She nodded, lightly tapping a hand to the counter before sauntering off to grab two beers. You took a moment to take a deep breath, not entirely sure what to make of the evening so far. Normally you’d have scared someone off by now, making them entirely too uncomfortable to try to endure conversation. But not Matt. He was still sitting beside you, clearly relaxed and comfortable.

“So why’re you having a bad day?” he asked.

You glanced over at him. He was studying you, head tilted to the side and one arm resting along the bar counter, the cane folded up on the surface beside him. With the way he was turned towards you in the bar stool, and you towards him, your knees were almost brushing.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mumbled.

“Where do you work?” he asked curiously.

“The Bulletin,” you told him.

He appeared to perk up instantly, sitting up straighter in his chair as his head shifted further to the side. “You’re a journalist?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered. “Or at least, I try to be when my boss isn’t throwing fluff pieces at me instead of letting me chase real stories.”

You briefly noticed the thinning of his lips at your words before Josie’s return with two beers caught your attention. You thanked her with a smile, surprised when she returned one, and watched as she disappeared. You took a deep drink from the beer, definitely feeling like you needed it to survive in Matt’s presence. When you set the beer back on the bar, your right hand absently playing with the condensation on the bottle, you turned your attention back to Matt and noticed the slight frown on his mouth.

“So you’re…chasing a dangerous story and your boss doesn’t want you to?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Matt suggested.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “And what, write about the upcoming adoption event at the animal shelter forever?” You shook your head. “No, that’s not what I signed up for with this career. Your friend over there is Karen Page, right? She was the same way when she worked at The Bulletin, too.”

“Yeah, and you see how she no longer chases after the dangerous stories for a newspaper anymore, right?” he replied, his tone more serious than it had been.

“I’m sorry but, I just met you literally minutes ago and now you’re trying to dictate what I should be doing?” you asked skeptically.

Matt abruptly shook his head, his charming smile returning. “You know what? You’re right. I just remember Karen having some terrible situations arise because she was chasing a story. I shouldn’t project that onto you. I apologize.”

You continued to study him curiously as you raised your beer to your lips, taking a drink. You swallowed, voicing your thought aloud as you asked, “Why’d you want to have a drink with me so badly?”

“I liked the sound of your voice,” he answered easily. “You sounded nice and I thought I’d like to continue hearing you talk for a bit more tonight.”

You snorted loudly, shaking your head. “Okay, now that is a terrible line,” you said.

“Says the woman who wanted to show me how far she could shove her foot into her mouth before she even knew my name,” he countered.

You blushed furiously, shaking your head with a grin. “No, I said you wanted to see that, not that I wanted to show you,” you shot back.

“Well,” Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders as he brought his beer to his lips, “I’m blind anyway so I couldn’t actually see it one way or another.”

“How many blind jokes are you going to make tonight?” you asked him.

He grinned smoothly back at you, swallowing down his beer. “As many as you continue to easily drop into my lap,” he answered.

You laughed, your eyes darting to the beer beside you. Matt’s knee nudged yours and you glanced back at him.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

You shrugged a shoulder, eyeing the beer again. “I can’t decide if I’m regretting staying for this drink or not yet."

"Oh, ouch," he said, feigning hurt.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I mean I’m still debating whether or not you laughing at my intense embarrassment has been worth it or not yet for the current conversation."

"Uh huh," he replied. "So where are you landing with that? On a scale of one to ten?"

You pulled a face, head tilting to the side. "How would I even rate that on a scale?" you asked him curiously.

"Well, one would be 'Oh shit I'll just stop talking and slip away since he can't see me’–'"

"Jeez, has that happened to you before?" you asked, cutting him off.

He shook his head, bringing his beer to his lips again as he answered. "No, but I get the feeling you might."

Your face reddened further as you watched him take a drink, eyes lingering on the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No," you corrected, "I'd at least blurt out something weird and then sprint out of the room. You'd at least have some warning."

"Oh, well I appreciate that at least," he teased. "But really, scale of one to ten how much are you regretting staying for the drink?"

You eyed him, bringing the bottle to your lips and thinking over your answer for a moment as you studied him and took a drink. He was charming, that was obvious, and he didn't seem even remotely put off or like he was struggling with conversation no matter how awkward you'd been so far. In fact, you'd go so far as to say that you were surprisingly having fun.

"Okay I'm pretty sure you just told me you'd at least blurt something awkward before you disappeared on me," Matt joked.

You grinned, unable to help it. "A seven," you answered.

His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead again, an amused smile still on his lips. "A seven isn't bad but I was hoping for higher," he mused. "Why so low?"

"You could do with some better jokes and your lines are terrible," you told him.

"Duly noted," he answered quickly.

"So what about you?" you asked somewhat nervously. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret asking me to stay for this drink?"

You anxiously took a sip of your beer while he cocked his head to the side as if he was in thought for a moment.

"An eight," he answered. "But only because I'm still waiting to find out how far you can shove your foot in your mouth."

You choked on the beer you were drinking, coughing lightly as Matt laughed and asked if you were alright. It was a moment before you recovered but his next question had you reeling again.

"You want to stay longer than that one drink? Meet my friends?" he asked when you'd recovered.

Your cheeks flushed as you bit your lip, taking only a few seconds to think over your answer. "Yeah, sure," you said. "I've got time."

"Considering your friend said you could write your article in a half hour with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue," he mused, "I imagine you do. You need any help with the restraints for that, by the way?"

You threw your face in your hands, groaning loudly as Matt let out another bark of laughter beside you. "I cannot believe you just said that," you mumbled.

"Really?" he asked curiously. "In the probably fifteen minutes you've been conversing with me you really can't believe I would say that?"

You began to laugh behind your own hands, turning your face to peek at him through your fingers. He was smiling wide, perfect teeth exposed, as he gazed in your direction.

"Okay, yeah, maybe I can," you answered.

"But you seem a little more relaxed now," he pointed out.

He was right, too. Somehow after all the awkward tension and comments you'd found him funny and a little disarming. And he still hadn't run off, instead he seemed like he was also enjoying your company and he clearly didn't want you to leave yet. Which you certainly hadn't expected.

"Yes, maybe marginally less embarrassed," you agreed.

"Good," he responded. He slid off the bar stool, knees briefly grazing yours before he grabbed his cane and began to unfold it. "So, would you like to meet my friends? Stay a bit longer?"

You smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "Sure, let's give my anxiety a bigger audience," you joked, sliding off of your bar stool.

"I have a feeling they're going to like you, too," he assured you.

You smiled nervously, feeling your palms sweating a bit again and trying to discreetly wipe them against your dress pants as he led you towards the pool table. He'd just said he liked you and you felt yourself becoming a bundle of nerves all over again.

But he couldn't possibly have meant it like that , right?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matthew murdock x reader #fftd #falling for the devil

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kawaiikenna · 2 years

Text

Another fic of mine! It was inspired by some comments on another fic. Here’s the link for the ao3 posting. Support it on there if you’d like. -w-

Danny had been summoned to many, many different places. Creepy warehouses with cloaked hooded cultists chanting? Yep. The produce area of an abandoned supermarket? Check. Several girls’ slumber parties ages ranging from 12 to 25? Been there, done that. Hell, he’s even been summoned by a group of boys for no other reason than one of them had to prove that his sister wasn’t lying when she said that they had summoned the Ghost King at her last slumber party. Yeah, that was fun. No, not really.

But a daycare? Or at least somewhere he thought was a daycare? Now that was someplace Danny had never thought he’d be summoned to. But there he was. Plopped into a group of maybe 10-15 kids. Not fully eldritch but enough for other ‘normal’ humans to become extremely unsettled or flat out scared. Horns spiraled out from the sides of his head, limbs too long and skinny to be considered human, his hands held spindly long fingers tipped with icy claws, his eyes were normal if not for the black sclera instead of white. He was wearing his normal black and white hazmat suit with a fur lined cloak hanging heavy on his shoulders. Danny said nothing as he stared, flabbergasted, at the small, young boy crying on the ground. He had a really bad skinned knee that was bleeding a fair amount. It apparently was enough blood to trigger the summoning circle.

There were several other children around the room. All of them had frozen and stared either at the boy, or, blatantly, at Danny. He was too tired to deal with this. He had other shit to do rather than babysit random ass kids that inadvertently summoned him. So Danny bent down and took a look at the kid’s knee. He was as gentle as possible.

“Hey buddy.” Danny says softly. “That looks like it hurts. Would it be ok if I fixed it for you?”

The kid didn’t say anything, more just nodded but Danny wasn’t sure if he could even hear him. So Danny pulled out his emergency first aid kit and went about cleaning and bandaging the boy’s knee.

“What’s your name?” Danny asks gently as he disinfects the bloody wound.

“James.” A soft whisper answers.

“Well you’re very brave James.” He responds.

There isn’t anymore conversation after that, but the atmosphere was more relaxed now that Danny had demonstrated that he wasn’t a threat. By the time he had finished the other kids were surrounding them. They all looked incredibly curious. A few of the braver ones had asked questions while Danny had been doing. He thought that even if he usually didn’t deal well with kids, he did a pretty damn good job.

Danny made to stand up but instead was tackled back to the ground by a tiny body. He looked over his shoulder to find a little girl clinging to his cloak with all her might. She beams brightly up at him.

“Are you here to play with us?” She asks.

“Uhh, no?” Danny answered, confusion lacing his words.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because now there was another child pouncing on his back and two more holding onto each of his arms. All at once they tried to talk. Some in complaining tones, others in curiosity.

“Noo! You should stay and play!”

“Yeah! You have to stay and play ‘cause that’s the rules!”

“Yeah! That’s the rules!”

“How come you have a cape?”

“Do you like hide and seek?”

“Why’s your hair white? Does that mean you’re old?”

“If you’re old does that mean you can’t play hide and seek?”

“No! I don’t like hide and seek!”

“Yeah! He should come draw with us instead!”

“How come you have horns?”

“Are you dressed up for Halloween?”

“Halloween isn’t for a long time stupid!”

“Hey!”

Danny’s head was starting to spin. He hadn’t eaten since that morning. The ghosts had decided to make his life a living hell and attack him every ten minutes. Now with this, this was the icing on the cake. Summonings had become somewhat more of an often occurrence. Not by much but enough that it still messed up his day. But you know what? Today is a day to just roll with the punches. So Danny did play hide and seek. He also did some drawings. He even let some of the kids try on his cloak. He even gave some of the older kids flights around the room. Danny had sent a text to the group chat somewhat explaining the situation before focusing again on entertaining the tiny children.

When he asked about an adult that was in charge; he got the answer of mommy and daddy are dead or they weren’t coming back. So he assumed that this was kind of like an orphanage. One where older kids took care of the youngers and everyone watched each other’s backs. That really didn’t sit right with Danny but there really wasn’t anything he could do for them.

So instead he entertained them and played with them. He didn’t know how long they played together, but it was long enough to where the majority of the kids were falling asleep. So he gathered up the youngest ones and had a cuddle pile. His cloak became their blanket. Some of the older kids joined them as well.

They had finally gotten the last little one to sleep when Batman kicked the door down. Danny managed to snag the door before it hit the floor. Green energy enveloping it as he set it down carefully. The hero marched into the room, closely followed by a young woman dressed in what looked like one of those ‘sexy magician’ Halloween costumes he had seen before. Now, if Danny hadn’t been so tired he would have been embarrassed by his reaction. But since he was half mad from sleep deprivation, and maybe a little hunger, considering how long he had gone without an actual proper meal, there were no such feelings. So instead of calmly telling them to be quiet as to not wake up the other kids and that he would explain later. He threatened the pair.

“If either of you end up waking up even one of the kids I will personally make it my mission to make you’re lives extremely difficult.” Danny hisses dangerously, eyes flaring protectively.

The three year old cuddled into his left side stirred slightly. Hazel eyes blinking blearily up at him. Immediately calling Danny’s attention to the little boy. “Shh, shh, go back to sleep Sammy.”

A content purr sounding from the halfa. The little boy, Sammy, did as told and went back to sleep. Danny goes back to glaring at the two adults. He hisses softly when the magician lady takes a step forward. A warning to the back the hell up. Surprisingly she does exactly that and Danny stops hissing. Though his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

Batman opens his mouth, probably to demand answers and information, but Danny cuts him short with a warning growl. “I don’t care if you have questions or want to know why or how I got here. I’m waaay to friggin tired to give you any kind of satisfactory answer. So just let me sleep.” A large yawn escapes him. “If you guys want to stay until nap time is over then be my guest.”

Danny then closes his eyes and focused on the children cuddling closest to him. Miranda curls more into his chest, face halfway pressed to his collarbone, and hums sleepily. Adam wakes himself up a bit with a sudden loud snore but settles right back into Danny’s right side, his head resting on the older’s shoulder. Sarah is still situated between his legs with her head lolled in Miranda’s lap. Suzie has her back firmly pressed to the outside of Danny’s left thigh. Sammy’s feet are just barely touching the top of her head. Danny let’s himself relax and bask in the kids’ sleepy emotions. Just before he falls off into sleep he cracks open an eye.

Batman and the magician lady are talking in hushed whispers in the opposite corner of his not so little cuddle puddle. He probably could have listened in on their conversation with his enhanced hearing. Nah, that would take too much effort. So instead he just drops off. This is something future Danny will have to deal with. Current Danny just wants to take a damn nap.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #dc #dp #dc comics #dc x dp #batman #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #summonings #summoning circle #summoning #eldritch ghost king danny #ghost king danny #let the boy sleep #he just wants a nap

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wangxianficfinder · 2 months

Text

Fic Finder

March 5th

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1. I’m pretty sure the fic im looking for is a one shot, but it’s been so long I can’t remember: LXC brings WWX (who he’s been teaching musical cultivation) to LQR and is like “he’s never learned this song, watch” and plays something. Then gestures to WWX who plays it perfectly from memory. LXC gestures to him while looking at LQR like “see?” and LQR is impressed

FOUND! multitude Chapter 13: good teacher lan qiren by bunny093 (bamf/genius wwx, the lans are better are sect-ing here, lightly based on a lilo&stitch scene, not yunmeng jiang friendly)

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2. Hello! Looking for a specific fic, at some point wwx transmigrates or reincarnates into the modern world where he is a ceo (?) and was trained by a teacher his whole life about sword fighting etc, and then he eventually gets his memories back and invents a way (i believe it was a device) to dimension/time travel to get back home. @vulpeculatee

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3. Hi, I'm looking for a Wangxian fanfic, where Wei Wuxian is in the Lan sect and he grows mushrooms. I just know that mushrooms were an important part of the fanfic, there was a scene where the other sects followed the Lan disciples to see where they bought the mushrooms. Thanks.

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4. hello! i just finished rereading "switched" (wwx switched with xz) but its ending was wwx finding out that he's pregnant. i remember that there's a part two of that where he gave birth in modern world, and they even cut their own hair but i cant find it. does anybody know where can i find it? or maybe im talking about two different story? im not really sure. thankyouuuuuu!

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5. good day! for the enxt fic finder, do u guys know tha time travel fic where wwx came back during the lectures then he let himself fall from the cliff where lwj was there and told him to let go? thank u in advance!

FOUND!🔒 Without end by barisan (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Depressed WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Yunmeng Jiang bashing, Sentient Resentful energy, Medical inaccuracies)

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6. Making a deep dive into my AO3 history is an Exhausting prospect right now, so I must turn to the hive mind. Three fics I'm looking for rn.

A) Meng Yao is running an errand and finds his car beset by a swarm of bees! 🐝🐝🐝 Cue LXC to the rescue.

B) Wei Ying is out on a first date and it's going poorly. Lan Zhan overhears. Tea facts are relevant. 🍵

C) Post-canon case fic, where the case is a mysterious energy that some people can see/sense and some cannot. Can't remember whether WWX just happened to bump into LWJ+ducklings or if they were already hanging out, but the two of them figure their shit out whilst investigating. I think there was a garden involved. And energy-induced kissing (possibly even sex?). @linderel

6A)

FOUND! save the bees (ride a beekeeper) by Ariaste (T, 4k, LXC/JGY, modern, Fluff and Humor, Meet-Cute, Bees, Flirting)

6B)

FOUND!🔒 Heaven, Wait by sunflowersfield (T, 2k, wangxian, Modern, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Neurodiversity, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, First Dates, First Kiss, Hyperfixations, Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, The bad date with the original character is brief and he never sees that guy again)

6C)

FOUND! Not What We May Be by brooklinegirl (E, 29k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Bedsharing, casefic, Hurt/Comfort, background Jingyi/Sizhui)

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7. Hi. Hope you are well.

I'm trying (and failing!) to find a WangXian fix I read years ago on Ao3.

From what I remember, Wei WuXian was a Captive of the Wen and kept in a high tower where is tortured and chained with a small window and Lan Zhan also gets captured and put in the same cell of Wei WuXian.

Lan Zhan is there when the Wen soldiers drag Wei WuXian away for torture and they bond. Later Lan Zhan finds out Wei WuXian is a Phoenix and the Wens want his tears. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are his only friends.

Wei WuXian helps Lan Zhan escape and Lan Zhan has to convince the cultivation world to save Wei WuXian but by the time they reach the Wens, they see that Wei WuXian lost control of the Phoenix and Lan Zhan calms him down amidst the fire.

I also remember the fic mentionimg that a Phoenix meant Goodluck.

Thsnk you in advance!

FOUND? a thousand hills, no birds in flight | 千山鳥飛絕 by defractum (nyargles) (E, 26k, WangXian, Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon adjacent setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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8. thank u so much for all u do! i actually have two fics i’m searching for! i remember reading both in 2021 so i believe that narrows things down!

A) first one is canon divergence from qiongqi path, i remember that wwx almost dies but puts his consciousness into a paperman and his body is somewhat preserved by wen qing till they can find a way to heal him and then transfer his consciousness back but they pretend he died to the other sects (i remember they even go check his body) i remember the wen remnants go to lotus pier pretending to be related to ppl from yunmeg and jzx survives. the whole mess with mxy and the summoning array happens but it fucks it up a little since wwx isn’t actually dead and he becomes something like a spirit/ghost for a while and ends up meeting lwj by accident when he’s taming mxy back to lotus pier. they manage to heal his body and he transfers himself back in and they all live happily ever after.

B) the second one is a fic in a fic series of wangxian having more children and being very domestic that includes past lwj changing places with present lwj for a day and he basically spends the day with wwx, they go farming he helps with the kids, they see lsz for a time, unfortunately that’s all i can remember from it.

8A)

FOUND? 🔒 something like by silversshadow (T, 69k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, Temporary Character Death)

8B)

FOUND? These Two Most Powerful by stiltonbasket (G, 4k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, Married Life, Family Feels, Parenthood, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, it's amnesia but it feels like time travel to LWJ, wangxian have more babies, and they are the cutest buns, not your average amnesia fic? there's no drama here tbh, just soft husbands carrying on with fatherhood, And loving each other, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

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9. Hello! I am looking for some help to find a fic. It's a story where Wei Wuxian becomes the ruler of afterlife essentially. All the characters who died before him are there but he has no memory of his past. The only way to get his memory was to go to earth and retrieve them(?). The last chapter I remember is MXY calling him, allowing him to return to the earthly realm.

Please and thank you 😊 @myblurryreality

Thank you for the suggestion but that is not it, unfortunately. The one I'm looking for starts out with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan being in this after life city. They had to struggle for a bit because there death offerings(?) were delayed. Wen Qing was a doctor in the town and helped heal Jin Zixuan from an injury at one point. The reason everyone's offerings were delayed was because there was a new Ruler, who ended up being Wei Wuxian. He had absolutely no memory of anyone, but allowed Jiang Yanli to visit him. He would hear a song (Wangxian) played as a tribute(?) but didn't know who played it.

NOT FOUND!🔒 A Secret Never Shared by Vrishchika (T, 28k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, frankencanon, Pining, Soft LWJ, Deity WWX, BAMF WWX, Alternate Universe, LSZ is the best boy)

FOUND! A Celebration In White by Enigmatree (T, 20k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Afterlife AU, Underworld, god AU, 13 years of Inquiry, Happy Ending)

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10. Help!

I lost a Twitter threadfic! I could have sworn I saved it, but either I accidentally deleted it or the author did. And they were about to update it too!

It was about WWX who, during the first Burial Mounds siege, was transformed into a rabbit, and now lives as an immortal bunny. Now it's modern times and he's been rescued by a reincarnated LWJ, who is about to leave for college (veterinary) and doesn't remember anything about his past life. WWX is wary of him at first (he thinks that LWJ was amongst those who led the siege), but he eventually warms up to him and manages to tell him the truth using a computer.

Please help me find this! @blueghost13

FOUND? Here's the link for the Twitter Thread And I just discovered that it got updated 2 days ago when I had expected no more, so thanks for making me check 🤗

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11. Hi! I've been searching this fic for so long and couldn't find it. As far as I can remember in this fic Wei Ying survives the siege and he goes away with Ayuan. He invents a silver core type of thing. some kind of mechanical/physical core. And later I think the jins capture him or something. Do you have any idea about this fic?

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

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12. Hi. I love your Fic Finder and Recs and your suggestions have kept me busy reading for almost 2 years now 😍

I was hoping you could help me find a fic I've recently read the summary off. Something about WY accidentally domming LZ Z somehow and turning him into a sub without realizing? And I think WQ pointed it out to him? I believe it was a modern setting, and the summary sounded very light-hearted and entertaining.

I'm not sure if that's enough info to go on, but thanks for your help in advance 🥰 @papperlapapp1

FOUND! And They Were Roommates! or The Accidental Domming of Lan Wangji by DizziDreams (E, 21k, wangxian, Dom WWX, Sub LWJ, inexperienced BDSM practices, un-/under- negotiated kink, horny climbing, horny cohabitation, horny on main except by main I mean at a party surrounded by innocent bystanders, Praise Kink, Masturbation, Bondage, Lingerie, Orgasm Delay/Denial, omg they were roommates, Modern, BDSM, debatably a bit of dom drop, Public Masturbation, Edging, Getting Together, WQ has to come in and straighten this shit out)

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13. I was reading a great fic and then Tumblr updated and ripped out from me when I was only in chapter two! Devastated. Its world building at its finest, you are not folks directly what's happened or happening. WWX is the proprietor of Yiling Garden, a cafe that offers sanctuary. Mo Xuanyu arrives in the first chapter seeking sanctuary from the Inquisition. Lan Wangji arrives, saying he's sanctuary and there for Mo Xuanyu, but WWX assumed he was inquisition at first. They have not seen each other for years. Clearly something happened to separate WWX from everyone he loves except Wen Ning, who works for the shop too, and had been raised from the dead. For unknown reasons, Wen Qing is elsewhere and happy. Wen Yuan is mentioned, but WWX doesn't know what happened to him. There are phones so it's a modern au. And... That's it. Tumblr died right after Lan Wangji asks WWX out for dinner. Help! Thank you VERY much! @lurkdot

FOUND? transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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14. Hi 😃 I need help to find a fic because I only remember a tiny bit! LWJ isn't wearing his forehead ribbon and LQR/Lan elders are trying to get him to wear a new one, the bit I really remember goes like this:

LQR: gives LWJ a new forehead ribbon LWJ: it's not the same 🥺🥺🥺

FOUND? A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, WWX & Wen Remnants, Jiang Family & WWX, WQ/MM, JYL/NHS, LXC/NMJ, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel fix-it, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)

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15. Hi! Hope you are well. I am desperately searching for a fic I read once but cannot find it anywhere. In this fic WWX survives the siege and leaves with A yuan. He and a yuan live in hiding. wwx also builds a golden core-more like a silver core as he invents a physical core that works the same as a golden core. I can't remember how it finishes but I think Jins capture him and A yuan seeks help of LWJ. Hopefully you can find this!!! Thank You!

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16. Hi! This is for fic finder. Its cql post canon i think. WWX goes to some place near ocean and he resque a men who battling a ghost ship? I think he was a cultivator from a nearby sect. WWX then teach them a little bit before he continue his journey. He went to Jinlintai. In the road he met a woman who goes to the same destination as him to met her wife. They become a fast friend. Thats all i can remember. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours)by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant)

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17. Hi! I don't know if I'm doing this right bc I'm new to tumblr... I've seen your blog before though and it's so helpful! I have a fic finder request - I remember it was a harry potter au where wwx has been gone from lwj's life for 13 years. he came back (as an animagus?) as a black rabbit and lwj was a professor at hogwarts. lwj takes care of rabbit wwx and then jgy comes with aurors at the end of the fic to attack hogwarts and lwj fights him. When lwj is almost going to be killed, rabbit wwx turns back into a human and protects him. Thanks so much!

FOUND? an armful of warmth by Alaceron (G, 3k, wangxian, Harry Potter Setting) It has a sequel, too!

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18. I seem to have read a summary or a review of a wangxian fic and can't recall if it's from this blog so i am putting in a request for help in finding it so in that summary it was mentioned that wangxian had travelled to a village and met a lady on bank of the sea but she was actually a sea monster/creature don't exactly remember what and she consumes hearts of her victim and LWJ becomes her target but he distracts her by tell her his and WWX's story while WWX tries to save LWJ as the body of the victim comes to shore after a week or so don't remember much or more so I hope this suffices also it was most likely to be a multi chapter fic with less than 10 but more than 3 chapters and that it was probably on ao3 . Thank you so much for your work.

FOUND! The Eater of Hearts by ElDiablito_SF (T, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, LWJ is Scheherezade, WWX and LQR speak to each other agenda, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian are very in love and very disgusting, Case Fic, Gratuitous kissage)

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19. Hi!

For the next fic finder can you help me with this ao3 fic, Modern Au where wwx gets kicked out of the Jiang family house so he has to stay (I think) in a shed close to his school, and also he has to take extra food from the school cafeteria and that’s how (I think) LQR finds him stealing after class

There was missing food so they also checked the cameras but wwx dodged them also NMJ in this AU is a cop and close to LXC

When they find out about wwx situation he’s taken to the lan house, eventual wangxian

And I don’t remember more

Thank you a lot for the help!🙇‍♀️❤️

FOUND? Where is home? By SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 80k, WIP, WangXian Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)

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20. There is this fanfic where Sizhuai(sp?) And Jingyi are night hunting with other Lan juniors. Nearly everyone dies, except him and Jingyi because out of desperation, Sizhuai uses demonic cultivation but he gets whipped a lot with the discipline whip because of it. Because of this Jingyi leaves the Lan sect. When he wakes up, Sizhuai is devastated. Cue angst, and Sizhuai eventually tracking Jingyi down and reconciliation. Unfortunately I can't remember this fanfic title and I would love to reread it. @andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist

FOUND? Give Me A Reason by useless_slytherclaw (M, 25k, ZhuiYi, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Junior Quartet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Minor WangXian, Minor JL/OYZZ, Aged-Up Character(s), Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Rogue Cultivator LJY, Family Feels, Demisexual LJY, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

132 notes · View notes

preciouslandmermaid · 15 days

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note: I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto x you

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delopsia · 2 months

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stars on the barn floor | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 9,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: AFAB!Reader, werewolf!Rhett, blowjobs, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, knotting, light bondage to keep Rhett from eating you alive, collars, heavy usage of "good boy," vague size kink, and a fluffy ending to top it all off. Rhett's just a big puppy in this one ❣ Brief Summary: This full moon, you're not letting Rhett spend his whole night chained up in the barn. No, tonight, you're gonna have some fun with him.

The crunch of gravel beneath your feet might be the only sound on this ranch. Where the wind is usually eager to whip past you, it has now fallen quiet, too exhausted to continue its ambitious journey. You think there may be some crickets chirping contentedly next to the pasture gate, the one that still bears the scars of being rammed by a rich kid's Ford. It ought to be fixed by now; Cecelia says lightning doesn't strike twice, but Royal says that a new one will just get torn up, too.

The old man must have a crystal ball up in that hat of his.

Fortunately, you don't need magic to know that you're about to walk your happy self into the equivalent of a lion's den, armed with nothing but a few flimsy pieces of leather and a strip of black fabric. A rifle would be a good start, but even that won't be enough to protect you if things get...hairy.

These barn doors are so much bigger than they looked from the safety of the porch, towering over your head, the rusted handle ice cold in your shivering hand. You've got time to turn back. Even if he does know you're out here, you know he won't hold it against you for making the better, safer decision.

But...

Chains clatter together, chased by a groan so low that you don't know if it's coming from the man inside or the settling of the barn.

"Rhett?" Your voice dies in your mouth as you push the door open, barely audible to your own ears. It's a wonder if your tone even carries a foot in front of you, never mind across the room.

Boots scuff against concrete, spurs jingling. He heard you.

The prickle of your skin suggests that he can see you, but as you trudge into the darkness, it sets in that you cannot see him. Navigating blindly, hands held out at your sides, feeling along the rough texture of the old stalls, ancient and dusty from lack of use. They haven't seen a horse since last summer when Rhett and Perry put the finishing touches on the new barn.

"Rhett?" Calling out again, as if doing so will make it easier to locate him.

That low growl is closer than you anticipated it would be.

Light trickles in through the warped window frames overhead. Thin slivers cascade downward, miniature spotlights revealing everything in its path. There's movement in the center of the room, chains clinking as a slim figure interrupts the delicate light show of the full moon, stumbling left, then right, bound to the center of the room.

Opening your mouth once more, you call out his name. "Rhett?"

His head jerks. Boots stomping the dusty floor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. All it would take is for those steel chains to come off the overhead beam, and you'd be toast, sliced up like tomorrow's breakfast sausage.

But he already sees you.

The light catches in his golden eyes, reflecting off them like mirrors. Your blood runs so cold that it might freeze. A handful of times, you've caught sight of their unnatural glow, rising to the surface when he grows angry, but it's never been quite this bright. Blindingly so. And yet, they're not all that different from the ones you've come to know.

Soft around the edges, encased by long eyelashes that flutter as you come near.

"Get out," curt. Grit through his teeth.

If you didn't know any better, you would think he was in the middle of a roleplay. His ears have long since broken from their natural human form, pointed and wolfish, sitting atop his head like a pair of triangles. There's a tear out of the left one, right at the tip, from a scuffle with his brother a few years back.

Perry still doesn't talk about where the bite scar on his shoulder came from.

"Get." Fangs flash with the opening and closing of his mouth. "Out."

Perhaps you're simply entranced by the sight of him; it's been days since you last saw him, and even then, it was a short meeting in a feed store checkout line. Or maybe you've plum lost your mind, a dumb sheep walking into the mouth of a hungry wolf.

The leather slips from your hands, falling to the floor with a clatter so loud you reckon it'll wake the neighbors. Rhett jolts. Stumbling backward with a heavy growl that vibrates all the way up into your bones. His lip curls with a warning. One little nip is all it would take to remove a finger. But it's as if you're caught in a trance. You can't seem to stop yourself from reaching up and curling your palms around his scruffy cheeks.

He's stiff. Heated gaze boring into your skull. "I said—" Your thumb rises to stroke the thin skin directly beneath his eye.

And he's quiet.

The muscle there softens. Squishing beneath your touch. Dare you consider it; you reckon his gaze has warmed by a degree or two. A little shinier than before, as if the light of the moon is reflecting off a serene lake.

Hesitant, his head tilts, eyes falling shut as he pushes into your touch.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Yer gonna get hurt," he mutters, but he makes no effort to squirm away, "if I come loose..."

The vicious wolf he's always warned you about is nowhere to be found. No bloodthirsty snarls or vicious snapping of his teeth as you grow near. Hell, the moon is as high as she will go, but he hasn't even fully shifted.

Your thumb ventures down his face, swiping across his bottom lip, past needle-sharp teeth and all. "You seem pretty lucid to me."

"'cause it's still early," his head jerks, afraid of your touch, all of a sudden.

One would think that a werewolf, a cowboy no less, would be pretty decent at understanding how to tell the time based on the positioning of the moon. Alas, you won't be sharing the insight you gained from looking at the time on your cell.

Talking isn't what you're here for, anyway.

No. Instead, your hands on his cheeks are growing firmer, holding him still, and he must have already caught on to what you're doing because his boots slam against the floor. Agitated. Trying to step backward. But his arms are still bound behind his back, and he's still attached to that beam overhead, can only move so much before he hits a dead end.

A snarl tears through the quiet air. He's trapped with nowhere to escape. Those razor-like canines are showing themselves again. A flashy warning that he makes no attempt to fulfill, not moving a muscle as you lean in and tilt his head down, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

The smile spreading across his face reveals the unnatural jaggedness of his molars. If it weren't attached to Rhett, you think you may have run out the door by now. "Did y' come all the way out here for a kiss?"

"You're guilty of it too, cowboy," you've lost count of all the times he's shown up at your door, looking for a little love. A kiss here, a snuggle on the couch there, once, he showed up just to see you smile and hear your voice.

"I know it," the roll of his eyes is the last thing you see before you move in once more, lips finding the corner of his jaw. "I know it..."

Your hands are sliding away from his face, smoothing past his chest, on a one-way track to find those damned buttons on his flannel. It must be your lucky day because it's one of his pearl snap shirts; each and every one of them pops open with the slightest tug.

"'ts a bad time to be feelin' me up, darlin'," Rhett's muttering beneath his breath, but he's stepping forward. Pressing into the caress of your touch, fingers running over the divots of his ribs, up and down the smooth skin of his back. Anywhere and everywhere, all at the same time.

Your mouth pauses against his neck. "Is it?"

For a moment, he's quiet. This close, you reckon you can hear the gears turning in his head, searching for the right words to say. He shifts, bumping himself into your mouth, but it doesn't reward him with another kiss.

You wonder if he's realized that he stomps his foot when he's feeling impatient.

"Not that 'm complainin'," his voice is quieter as if he's afraid to hear the sound of it.

Fortunately, you're in no mood to hold out any further, already beginning to lean in and ghost your lips over a vein, tongue darting out to trace across it. A portion of you is amazed that he's letting you do this, tilting his head to grant you access to his vulnerable throat, humming at your touch. So completely and utterly comfortable, despite the dizzying draw of the moon and the overwhelming helplessness he's placed himself into. Those chains behind his back are far too strong for him to break on his own; he can't defend himself, even if he wants to.

But that's not on your mind at all. No, you're too focused on nipping at his sensitive collarbone, still bruised from your handiwork earlier in the week. Then, down across his chest, broad and thick enough for you to get a greedy handful of as you kiss your way below that cheap, faded tattoo he got when he turned eighteen.

Your tongue darts out to lave across a soft nipple.

"Shit," he sucks in a breath, always so sensitive here, "that...you..."

It's such a simple thing. Swirling your pointed tongue around the bud, feeling the way it hardens within a matter of seconds. You shouldn't be getting anything out of it, and yet, your thighs are squeezing together without a second thought. All the while, your fingers are finding that neglected bud, pinching it between your thumb and index.

Rhett jerks, stumbling backward. "Leave...leave those alone."

"I thought you liked having your nipples played with?" You know the answer to that.

He knows the answer to that.

But that doesn't mean he's going to say it out loud. Not without a few beers buzzing through his veins, warping his filter just enough to let a million and one truths tumble off his pretty tongue.

"Don't say it like—mmh," sucking in his bottom lip, barely stifling that little noise.

You'd linger a little longer if you weren't thinking about something else. Every kiss you press to his skin glistens in the light, shimmering little patches that trail down the soft muscle of his belly, across his belly button. Never ending until his belt rudely intercepts you, obnoxiously large buckle still fastened and shiny as ever.

Without a second thought, you pinch it open, knees settling against the dusty floor.

"Oh my god," Rhett's head lolls backward, neck on full display, "you ain't...you're..." As if your intentions couldn't get any clearer, you find the flip of his zipper, pulling it down. "Shit, y' are."

The only thing between you and what you're after is this damned button. Popping it open takes two seconds and two centuries, all in the same moment. "What did you think I was doing?"

His feet shift, spurs singing their shrill little tune whilst you reach through the gap in his boxers. "I can lose my mind 'n eat ya alive at any given moment," interrupted by a shaky breath as your soft hand wraps around his half-hard length, "'n all y' wanna do is suck my cock."

You've gotten a little too good at guiding him past his confines, out into the cool air of this dingy old barn. It's a shame that you can hardly see him; a portion of you was beginning to wonder if this whole full moon thing would change anything in this department.

"Is that a problem?" Feeling around blindly, your hand slips back through the fabric.

His hips jolt as your fingers brush against his balls, gently drawing them out. They're heavier than you last recall them being, but maybe that's your memory playing tricks upon you. All you know is that Rhett's opening his mouth again, and you've been presented with the perfect opportunity to shut him up.

"Naw, I ain't sayin' that," he whispers. So airy and light that he might be up on a cloud, "'m tryin' to tell—shit."

Your devilish tongue glides up the underside of his balls. Not afraid to let him feel the scrape of your teeth, internally hoping it will translate as some kind of sick reminder of his place. "What was that...?"

"No, no, no," you can't see it, but you know he's shaking his head, "jus'...keep doin' that."

Can't complain with that logic.

A little too excited, your mouth returns to the underside of him, his heavy cock bumping against your temple. It shouldn't do all that much for him, but the feeling of you gently sucking on his balls is all it takes to get him groaning low in his throat. Behind him, the chains clink, biceps straining against them, desperate to paw at the back of your head. Always a little too keen to get you moving on to his cock.

But you're in control here, and right now, you're too focused on moving over to equal out the attention. Carefully sucking on him, tongue soothing the skin when you let him fall free of your mouth. His feet shift, boots impatiently clunking across the floor. Your hand rises, taking hold of his all-too-heavy cock, hard as a rock within a matter of moments.

A drop of precum spills onto the floor, leaving a shiny spot that catches in the light. Almost looks like a tiny star has fallen out of the sky to join in on the fun. A second lands to join, mere inches away from the first.

You're far too stingy to let a third go to waste. Licking up the underside of him, trailing up the thick vein that emerges from his base and not stopping until you reach his tip. Plush and silky soft against your lips, he hasn't gotten an ounce of attention here, and yet he's soaked. There's so much precum gathered here that it looks like you've already taken him into your mouth.

"What's got you so wet, cowboy?" A lopsided grin interrupts your teasing, sprawling across your face before you can realize it.

The corner of his lip wavers up and down, "'y know exactly why."

"No, I don't reckon I do," leaning back on your haunches just as his hips thrust forward, seeking a contact he's no longer receiving.

Rhett's quiet. Always has been a little shy when it comes to telling you exactly what got him going. Those wolfish ears twitch, stubborn teeth sinking into his bottom lip as if his words are going to burst past at any moment. He just needs the slightest push...like leaning forward and opening your mouth, hot breath fanning out against his flushed tip.

Again, his foot stomps. "Fuckin' mean." But then he's lowering his head, long strands of hair cascading into his face. "I..." hesitating, if only for a second, "like when y' go 'n do whatever ya want with me."

You knew what he was fixing to say, but that doesn't mean you're any less excited to hear him voice it. "Yeah?"

Nodding. "Uhuh—oh."

A giggle is all you can manage, mouth too full of his cock to do much else. Heavy and throbbing against your tongue, already so damn excited, and you're not even started. Only just beginning to start sucking on him, cheeks hollowing as you gradually take more of him in. His pretty moan is an encouragement all on its own.

Sucking off a werewolf during a full moon isn't exactly something that has made it onto your bucket list, but oh, is it a dream. Listening to the way his arms strain against his iron restraints, desperate to cling to your head as it begins to bob, slow ups and downs, at your own comfortable pace.

Experimental, you lean back until your tongue can swirl around his sensitive tip.

His thighs squeeze so tight that his knees damn near knock together. "Fuckin—ah!" Even from down here, you can see how his jaw has gone slack, completely and utterly lost in the feeling of your mouth. "Sen...sensitive."

All you can do is hum, amused by the little shiver that ripples up his spine.

It's been a few weeks since you've last felt him on your tongue, but your memory is gradually beginning to come back, hands scurrying off to work. One wraps around the base of his shaft, the past that you can never fit in your mouth, while the other reaches to find his soft balls, still wet from your earlier handiwork.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he's babbling, head rolling back and forth. Restless. "Keep doin' that."

There's already an ache blooming in the corner of your jaw, but you can't help yourself. Not when Rhett's keening high in his throat, panting like a damn dog as you lower your head, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth. His blunt head bumps into the back of your throat. Damn near sends you lurching.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, burning like they're going to start streaming down your face at any moment, but you can't bring yourself to mind it. You're far too preoccupied with getting another one of those noises out of him, sucking hard on your next draw backward.

A crippling whimper breaks through the midnight air. His hips jolt forward by the tiniest fraction.

You might as well have cracked the code to a bank safe.

He's a goner. He knows it. You know it. He knows you know it. Because you keep doing it. Long, slow bobs of your head, the ones that he desperately tries to chase the feeling of. Drool runs past your swollen lips and down your chin, leaving you just as wet and slick as he is, dripping off your skin and speckling across the barn floor.

It's so distracting that you've nearly forgotten about the leather that rests by your right knee. It is not as if you can do anything to put your plan into motion; no, your hands are full. One gently stroking his shaft in synchrony with the rise and fall of your head, the other slowly beginning to roll his balls in your palm. Working him over like you're getting paid to do it.

Rhett's strangled whine catches in his throat. "'m already close."

You don't know if it's a warning or a plea, but the discomfort in your jaw is getting easier to ignore. Cheered on by the shiver that sets into his thighs and the airy noises tumbling out of him, starving for a breath that he can't keep ahold of. Broad chest heaving, still glistening with the trail that led you to your knees.

His foot taps against the floor.

"Baby, baby, baby," chanting like a melody, chased by the sweet cry of your name, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

Humming, you tilt your head to look up at him. Wide eyes meeting with his half-lidded golden ones—the tip of your tongue lifts, dancing across the sensitive underside of him.

That's all it takes.

You feel the twitch of his cock before his raspy wail greets your ears. A shudder wracking up his body. Spine trembling. Hips jerking forward as rope after rope of his cum spills from his overworked cock. Flooding your mouth. The base of his cock swells with every pulse. Too shallow to catch and form a knot, but he's almost there. If you push him a little further in a few minutes, you might get one out of him.

Devilish, you swallow around his softening length, amused by the sudden whimper and backward jerk of his hips. Pulling himself out of your mouth with a nice, wet pop.

Those sweet eyes of his are closed. Blissfully unaware, on his own plane of existence. So far gone that he doesn't seem to notice as you tuck him back into the safety of his jeans. Nor does he rouse at the sound of you grabbing the leather from the floor. Your knees ache as you rise to your feet, the wet spots on the floor looking something akin to a galaxy as you reach for the chains behind his back. The mechanism is simpler than it looks. Just one little pinch and—

"What—what are you doing?" Tripping over his own words. Arms suddenly falling to his sides. Free. "No, no, no, you can't—"

"Do you trust me?" Spoken far too gently for it to be such a sharp interruption.

His lower jaw quivers, mouth parting the slightest bit. You can almost see the gears twisting and turning up in his scrambled head.

Hesitant, he lowers his head with a shallow nod. "'course, but I can hurt..." Falling silent as you lift that thin rope of leather for him to see, held taut between two hands, the silver buckle gleaming in the moonlight. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

A boot thumps against the ground. Nudging himself closer to it. No glimpse of razor-sharp canines. Ears round and human as can be. Not even a sliver of gold in those wide eyes. Whatever control he's found, if you can even call it that, doesn't slip. Even as you loop the leather around his throat, feeding one end through the clasp, buckling it shut.

The snap of the leash clasp on his collar damn near makes your heart stop.

But Rhett hasn't moved, still perfectly in control. If anything, he's more interested in the thin piece of black fabric you're lifting, torn from an old t-shirt he ruined while moving the cattle to the west pasture.

"What're y' doin'?" He mutters as if he's afraid to open his mouth too far, and though you're beginning to cover his eyes, he doesn't make a move to stop you. Remaining still, even as you tie a sloppy bow behind his head.

Your hand finds his cheek, squishing it with your thumb. "Taking you home, sweet boy."

The corner of his lip rises.

With a delicate pull of the leash, he stumbles forward, spurs singing their shrill tune as he clumsily drags his feet. Even with the help of you at his side, he's a mess. Knocking into the barn door. Very nearly trips over your kitchen rug when you get him home. So willing to trust where you take him but not quite equipped to make it graceful.

"Why'd ya cover my eyes, anyhow?" He grumbles, big, sharp ears twisting and turning as he hauls himself through another step.

"You mentioned nearly mauling a cow a couple moons ago," pausing just long enough for you to get him around the corner, into the bedroom, "and I doubt you know how to heel."

"I can, too!" Those unnatural teeth glint in the light. You wonder if he would let you touch them. "'m a werewolf, not a damn stray."

His bare foot knocks into yours as you lead him to the bed, a little more confident now. There's not much for him to run into here. The biggest obstacle is the bed that's hitting the backs of your knees, has you falling backward before you can realize it.

On his own whim, Rhett's thumbing at his belt buckle. Opens it so damn easy that you almost question how it took you so many tries when you first got together. It's no easy task, getting his jeans down his legs, the material clinging to his thighs like a second layer of skin.

Vaguely, you think you catch the silhouette of his cock bouncing, half hard and smacking against his hip. "You took your boxers off, too?"

"Might as well," seeing him naked from the waist down is a bit of a sight, but it's one that doesn't last for long. His flannel hits the floor even quicker than his jeans did. "Ain't gonna need 'em here in a minute."

Coy, you tilt your head. "What makes you think I'm in the mood?" It's only after that you realize he can't see what you just did.

But Rhett's entirely oblivious of your mistake, lips rising with an obnoxious grin, sharp teeth poking through, "can smell it."

Your face feels cold. Blood draining away as if someone has just pulled the plug, spilling out into everywhere but your head. "You can what?"

He's leaning closer. Nose nudging into the side of your cheek, warm breath fanning out and tickling your ear like a feather. "Yer scent gets a lil spice to it," he murmurs, so low that every word rumbles down your spine like thunder, "kinda sweet, too."

His unshaven jaw bumps into yours, long enough to have lost that sandpaper-like texture, nothing but a smooth glide as he blindly guides himself to your ear. He'd nibble at the shell of it, if he weren't worried about accidentally eating you. "Makes me fuckin' dizzy jus' smellin' it," whispering, so damn close that you feel his lips brush against your skin.

Maybe that's the reason why your inhale shakes the way that it does. "So you knew what I was up to when I walked into the barn?"

"Mhm," his humming damn near makes you shiver, "jus' didn't know what kinda fun you were hankerin' for."

Your hand darts behind his head, tugging on the knot of his blindfold until it unravels, falling from his face and landing onto the sheets.

Golden eyes stare back at you, vivid as ever. Except they're soft around the edges. The werewolf might have awoken for the night, but Rhett Abbott never went to sleep. He's still here, with you, crawling into bed the same way he always does. His cheeks fit into your palms the same, squishing beneath your touch as you draw him in.

He kisses the same, too. Humming into it, purring like a pleased little kitten, shifting to brace his weight on one arm, free hand skirting up the side of your shoulder. Fangs graze your bottom lip, a delicate reminder of the power they hold and what they could do if the reigns of control were to slip from his grasp.

But Rhett's never been anything other than gentle. The sharp impression of his teeth is merely there for show, as harmless as the muscles that bulge in his arms, present to protect and never to harm. Because his open arm drifts around your waist as he pushes you backward, cushioning an already soft fall.

Your hands are on the move, one grabbing hold of his meaty bicep, the other drifting across his shoulder, blissfully abandoning the task at hand. His rough mouth parts your lips, a growl sitting so low in his throat that you almost mistake it for distant thunder, rattling the house and you with it. Rhett's warm belly may be pressed against yours, pinning you to the mattress, but it isn't enough to keep you from wondering if you've floated off the bed and begun spinning around the room.

"My shirt," you gasp, breathless, "get it..."

There's no point in finishing your sentence because Rhett's already tugging at the end of it, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head. The bedroom air hadn't felt cold until now. A sharp contrast compared to Rhett and his warm lips that melt with yours fits so perfectly, like your own perfect puzzle piece.

His hips roll forward, rutting into your core, merely held back by the soft fabric of your pants, so thin that he could rip through them if he wanted. But he doesn't seem interested in doing such a thing, simply content to drag his leaking cock against the inside of your thigh, wetting the fabric there.

"C'n I take these off?" He's speaking against your lips, too lazy to pull away any further than he already has.

You're already nodding. "Please."

Now, he's got to draw himself away from you. Leaning back onto his haunches, the muscle of his chest catching in the moonlight that peaks through the window, calloused hands smoothing down the sides of your waist. Your hips lift from the bed just as his fingers curl into your waistband.

That leather leash knocks into your leg as he draws your pants and underwear down all in one go, handle tapping at your knee as if to get your attention. One of your hands are reaching for it before you've even realized it, fingers slipping through the loop. It's just long enough to give him the space to pull your pants past your heels, only pulls tight when he leans back a smidgen further.

"Forgot ya got me collared," Rhett's chuckling, already yielding to the tug of the leash. His lips graze up the side of your ankle, ambling along in no real rush as he makes his way back up your legs. Kissing at the juncture of your knee and up into the inside of your thigh, tongue darting out to sloppily wet the skin there.

Golden eyes flicker up to meet your gaze.

Idle, your unoccupied fingers find their way into his hair, curling and twisting in the messy curls that rest at the back of his neck. The leash pulls, too eager to guide him higher. Wasn't exactly a part of your plan for tonight, but you cannot even begin to deny yourself this simple pleasure.

"Good boy," it's hushed, and it's barely there, but the words tumble off your tongue like any other.

Rhett hears them. You know he has because those dumb, wolfish ears emerge from the darkness. Twisting and turning. Drinking up the tiny noise that chokes out of your throat when he sucks on a patch of skin on your inner thigh, working it over until you're certain that he's left a mark there. Repeats it again a little further up, drifts over to your other thigh, the tip of his nose bumping into you as he guides himself up, up, up.

His breath fans out against your cunt. So hot that it nearly burns.

Your tug on the leash is all the encouragement he needs. Tongue poking past his lips and drawing through your folds, licking a slow, fat stripe up your cunt, groaning to himself like he's just won a grand prize. Even here, you can feel the smooth glide of his teeth, almost a perfect mirror of the silent threat you made to him in the barn.

Big hands settle on either side of your hips, holding you still as he dips down to repeat it once more. "Taste so fuckin' good," grumbling into your pussy, the vibration of his voice dancing around your sensitive clit.

He's already getting comfortable, settling flat on his belly, arms curling around your thighs, hanging onto you like you'll wander away if he doesn't. Leaves you no choice but to clutch the back of his head as his upper lip brushes where you crave him most. The very spot that he's so deliberately ignoring.

"Bastard," hissing. If he'd just go a little higher...

"What?" Artificial innocence drips from his tone, peeking up at you beneath long lashes. He's the very definition of a man who knows what he's doing, with that dumb, wolfish grin sprawling across his face.

Fuck, you can't stand him sometimes.

The leash yanks. Jerking him upward, his mouth helplessly dragged up to the very place he's been avoiding. So caught off guard that he's hardly got time to react, before you're pushing his head back down.

Two can play at this game.

"Impatient," he grunts, but he's not making any move to fight back. Contentedly swirling his tongue around your clit like you've been wanting, only pausing to wrap his thin lips around it.

A spark of heat jumps up your spine, bursting in your head like a lone firework. Makes it so damn hard for you to get your thoughts in order. "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full, cowboy."

Even with his face buried between your legs, it's impossible to miss the way that his eyes roll. Nor can you fail to notice the roll of his hips, chasing the feel of your sheets against his neglected cock, still heavy and weeping.

But you can't pay attention to it for long because a calloused fingertip nudges between your folds. Stroking at your delicate entrance, pressing to feel the way you open up for him. What he finds must have been what he was looking for because the outer corners of his eyes rise with a smile. Your light tug of the leash is enough to keep him moving, that thick finger slipping into you without a second thought.

It's been so damn long that you've nearly forgotten how this feels. The faint burn of taking him dry. How he curls upward, rubbing his blunt fingertip up your walls, rising up, up, up. You know he'll find that sweet little spot, he always does, but that doesn't stop your nerves from winding tight, thighs tensing as he nudges closer and closer to it.

"Fuckin' tight," he muses, drawing right across the nerves of your g-spot for the first time in forever.

Your body jerks, a gasp bursting past your lips. "And who's fault is that?"

"I know," sheepishly pausing to twirl his pointed tongue across your cunt, "'m sorry." Pity rewards you with a second finger, eagerly nudging in alongside the first, finally beginning to stretch you in earnest. Pumping in and out of you to the languid tune of his mouth, a lazy sort of thing that has your thighs clamping down around his head.

"Rhett..." you don't know why you're muttering his name, but he's humming his response, and it's sending a bolt of lightning up your core.

A plume of heat swells between your legs. Familiar. The kind that has your lower belly alight with an excitement you haven't felt since the last time. Spurred on by the rough fingertips that incessantly rub into your walls and the burning tongue that draws sharp figure eights across your spasming clit. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit—

"Stop." Blurting. A little too loud.

Rhett freezes so quickly that his tongue doesn't even dart back into his mouth. So shocked that his ears have returned to their usual human shape. His eyes are the only thing that moves, darting up to scan your face. Whatever expression he's looking for, he doesn't find it.

"Close?" Lifting his head. Stiff.

Weakly, you nod, tugging on his leash with an uneasy hand, "Uhuh."

Those shoulders drop with a heavy sigh, fanning out against your sensitive core as he begins to move. Hands settle on either side of you, bracing his weight as he crawls up your body, the muscle in his biceps flexing with the simple effort, veins rising from his forearms. A sight so mesmerizing that you nearly miss grabbing the lube off the spare pillow.

His hand darts out, reaching to take it, but you're a little quicker, drawing it out of his reach.

"Sit," a simple order, not an ounce of firmness behind it.

Rhett's head tilts to the side, pausing if only for a second, then falls back onto his haunches without a word. Sitting innocently between your legs, watching as you sit up and snap the cap open. The lube spills out a little too quickly, flooding your palm and dripping between the crevices of your fingers.

"Shit," his eyelashes flutter as your hand wraps around his heavy cock, lazily spreading the sticky fluid across him. There's so much of it. Squelching with the motion of your strokes, the excess running down into the neatly groomed hair at his base and beyond. "Think ya got enough on me?"

"Aren't you usually heckling me for using too little?" Fighting the urge to laugh, slick hand reaching between your own legs. The nudge of your own two fingers isn't what you're craving in the slightest; too small and thin as compared to Rhett's, but they work just fine when it comes to spreading some more of the lube.

"'cause I don't wanna hurt ya," the corner of his lip quirks up. Smug. One of the many downsides of dating a man who's hung like a damn horse and knows it.

But there are a number of upsides that come with the territory, too. Wrapping his hand around himself makes him seem that much bigger. Thick in his hand, so heavy that it can't stand upright without some help. Falling onto your back does nothing to help it, and even as he shifts forward, blunt tip nudging at your inner thigh, you can't help but wonder how you take him every time.

Nor do you know how you plan to take the knot that subtly swells at his base, still inflamed from your handiwork in the barn.

His cock head nudges against your folds, experimentally rutting between them. Has the air hitching in your throat and your hand unintentionally yanking on his leash.

"Alright, alright," mumbling to himself through a laugh, "impatient."

A familiar pressure blooms before you realize what he's talking about. The careful nudge of his dick at your entrance, gradually stretching you around his mushroom tip. And maybe the full moon really does affect his size because you don't recall it ever aching quite like this. A subtle burn rising, even with the lube, has you holding your breath as he opens you wider and wider.

"Relax, doll," he's coaxing, in that quiet voice of his hands rising to glide up your sides, "can feel y' clenchin' 'round me."

Easier said than done. But his touch is distracting enough to let a puff of air burst past your lips, lungs burning for a fresh intake of oxygen, chest rising and falling in perfect tune with Rhett's. With it goes the tension in your thighs, falling slack against the bed, drawn out even further as his tip drags against the sweet bundle of nerves inside of you. Little sparks bolt through your nerves, bursting up in your head and behind your eyelids.

The leash tugs again, but this time, it isn't an impatient correction. No, you're trying to draw him closer, helplessly beckoning him to settle down onto his forearms. And he does just that. Warm body coming to rest against yours, so close that his jaw bumps into yours.

"'s this where ya want me?" He whispers, rubbing your noses together just for the sake of doing it. Always has to be stealing some kind of affection, even when his cock is sinking into you, inch by devastating inch, stretching you so wide that your thighs tremble from it.

You can't formulate a response; the words in your head have broken into fragments. Maybe you'd be able to gather them up if not for the delicious sensation of him bottoming out. Not another inch to take of him, his hips flush with your body. It's a damn surprise that you haven't cracked in half, so full that your lungs feel like they've shrunk by two sizes.

"You can..." you're already too winded to get your words out, "you can move."

Rhett doesn't budge. Eyes closed, seemingly off in his own little world, content with the sensation of your warm cunt, wrapped around him. But you didn't go through all this trouble just to skip out on all the fun now.

You give the leash an experimental tug. Jerking him by the slightest fraction.

A growl bursts from his throat. So loud that the room seems to shake with it. Gone as quickly as it arrived, replaced with an awkwardly quiet air, wide blue eyes blinking back at you. As if you were the one who made the noise and not him.

"Move," repeating yourself, and if he notices the wobble in the firmness of your tone, he doesn't acknowledge it.

Obedient, his hips draw backward, and you immediately know you're in trouble. Even for such a shallow movement, he's dragging deliciously against every little nerve within your walls, the soft swell of his base catching on your entrance as he eases back inside. It's the second thrust that knocks the air from your chest, puffing past your lips as he bottoms out, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

"That," blurting, before he can even begin to lose his angle, "keep doing that."

"'s that the spot?" Rhett grins, fangs and all. As if he can't feel the way you involuntarily flutter around him when he passes over it again.

Your lube-slick hand tangles into his hair. There's not a doubt in your mind that it's going to leave it matted and sticky once it dries, but that's alright. You're both gonna need a bath once this is all said and done.

He's finding his pace, rising higher up onto his forearms, properly hovering above you. The kind of shift that has his balls smacking into your ass, the heaviness of his body rocking yours against the bed. Your mattress squeaks with every heavy movement, but it's barely audible over the wet squelch of his cock disappearing into you and the grunts that rumble out of him.

He's feeling it as much as you are, eyes squeezing shut, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, canines threatening to puncture the thin skin there. Even as he draws back to settle on his haunches, you can hear him. Unusually noisy, those low noises bubbling into something louder, traveling on the coattails of his breath.

Your thighs rise to squeeze around his waist, pulling him in a little harder now, "you're getting loud, cowboy."

"Fuckin' sensitive," his hair bounces into his face, forces him to run one of those big hands through it, "still haven't—oh fuck."

Your cunt is spasming around him. Clenching and unclenching as his plush tip kisses those sweet little nerves over and over and over. Your unoccupied hand can't stay still. Grasping at the edge of the pillow, squeezing a fistful of the sheets, flailing around at your side like a fish out of water. Anything to keep yourself grounded.

"God," squeezing his eyes shut, hardly stifling a moan, "y' feel so fuckin' good."

The sight above you is enough to make you dizzy. Rhett and his messy curls, sweat beading on his forehead, and the veins along his arms have long since begun to show themselves. Muscles flexing with every heavy thrust, his thick cock disappearing between your parted legs, stretching you obscenely wide.

Fuck, you can't believe this cowboy is real.

He's reaching beneath one of your shivering knees, fingers sprawling around the underside of it and pushing it up toward your belly. "Ain't ever stayin' away for that long again."

And you don't ever want him to, either. This bed and this house have been far too quiet without him; your toys haven't seen this much of you since before the two of you met. But he's here now, black collar looped around his flushed neck, leash bouncing with the movement of his body, and you don't have any intention of cutting him loose.

"Yer thighs are shakin' so much," he says it like he's not trembling himself, weak hand struggling to keep hold of your leg, the two of you wavering like leaves in the autumn breeze. "'s it feel that good, sweetheart?"

If he keeps talking, you're going to combust.

The leash nearly slips out of your sweaty hand when you tug on it. Couldn't have been much of a pull at all, but it works a growl out of Rhett's throat, golden eyes twinkling as he lets you reel him back in. A little too eager to get close to you again, chests pressing against each other, mouths meeting for a kiss, so sloppy that it hardly counts as one. Lips bumping together, unable to do anything but that.

"Good boy," it slips off your tongue without thinking.

The phrase has never really crossed your vocabulary until tonight, but something about the collar and the distracting massage of his cock has you throwing all rationality out the window. There's only one way to find out if he likes the phrase or not. MIght as well learn on the one night when he's fully capable of swallowing you whole.

"Again."

You almost don't believe what you just heard.

But Rhett's nuzzling his nose against your cheek, suddenly losing his rhythm. "Call me that again."

Fire ignites in your core. Spreading until it feels as if your entire body has been plunged into a pot of boiling water. Fuck, if he keeps—if he just keeps doing that. "Good boy," repeating yourself, dissolving into a mewl.

His whole body jerks. Set off like a damn firecracker. Head dropping low, keening high in his throat, too weak to hold it back anymore. If he had a tail, you have no doubt that it would be wagging back and forth, a little too eager to hear your praise.

Impatient, your hand dips between your bodies, the pads of your fingers pressing against your clit. Sparks volt through your nerves. Has your heart lurching and hammering in your heaving chest. You're already close.

"Want you to knot me," admitting your plan is easier than it should have been, falling off your drooling tongue without a shred of fear. "Can you do that?"

Now you've got his attention, snapping up to look at you. Mouth open. Eyes wide, clear for the briefest of moments. But then his cock head hits your g-spot head on, and it's got you clenching around him like a fucking vice. You're both gone. Fear of getting hurt be damned. Neither of you can think of anything except for this, this, this.

Then you hear it. The faintest "uhuh" you've ever heard.

But it's there.

"Such a good boy for me," you might be babbling, but you don't care. Rhett's whimper is just as loud as yours, dancing together in the bedroom air, and that's all that matters. "so good, Rhett."

The base of his cock is swelling. Growing taut with a knot that catches on your rim, forcing those long strokes to devolve into short, fragile little motions. His voice is getting pitcher, whispering nonsense that sounds like your name, the curve of his nose pressing into the underside of your jaw.

Until all of a sudden, his hips are slamming into yours, and he's cumming in you with a pitiful cry. Knot swelling into a bulb, locking your exhausted bodies together as his cum finally, finally spills into you, flooding your helpless pussy with rope after rope of white. And all he can do is collapse on top of you, his head buried into the gap of your neck.

You're so full of him. Nowhere for his cum to escape, even whilst his hips involuntarily twitch forward, jostling the mess he's made inside of you. And it's all just making your fingers work a little faster, rubbing over your clit over and over, spasming impossibly tight around his overworked cock.

"Cum 'round me," Rhett's begging, his voice shaky can be. "Please."

And you do.

Back jerking up off the mattress, spots dancing across your vision, cumming around his cock without a shred of warning. Your pussy clamping down around his knot, fingers stalling over your clit. A strangled cry cuts through the air. You haven't the slightest clue if it's coming from you or Rhett, but you can't bring yourself to care. Too lost in the spinning of the room and the clouds fogging your mind to even try to comprehend what you're hearing.

For once, the room is quiet—nothing but two labored breaths, so heavy that the wind howling outside ought to be jealous.

Rhett's eyelashes tickle your neck with every blink, the only sign you've got that he's still alive, "Think ya almost killed me."

"You're one to talk," you have to crane your neck to get a better look at him, contentedly snuggled against you, eyes blue as can be. Not a shred of werewolf left in him, too tuckered out to show its face any longer.

"Careful," it's the start of the emptiest threat you've ever heard, "the moons still high."

The pillow has a higher chance of killing you than he does.

"You haven't eaten me so far," teasing, letting your fingers dart down his naked spine. He shivers, jerking up onto his forearms all of a sudden.

His knot is already beginning to go down, makes it easy for him to draw his hips backward. Pressure builds for the briefest of moments, and with a soft 'pop,' he slips out of you entirely. Like a damn has burst, his cum begins to spill from your abused cunt, running down your skin and staining the comforter below.

You really should get up and throw the sheets in the washer before anything can begin to dry, or worse, leave behind an impossible-to-remove stain. But you're too focused on Rhett, rolling over onto his back, sweaty chest heaving. The kind of thing that you cant resist from reaching out and touching, your palm sliding along his warm stomach, feeling the way it rises and falls in tune with his chest.

"Are you rubbin' my belly like 'm a dog?" He asks, through that lazy smile, all half-lidded eyes and sleepy muscle. Even now, you can't bring yourself to believe that there's a single vicious bone in his body, big and strong as it may be.

"Should I stop?" You suppose you already know the answer to your question; he'd be kicking up a bigger fuss if he didn't like it.

His head shakes, and even that looks like too tremendous of a task for him. "No, no, I ain't sayin' that."

Instead, his hand rises to cover yours, following along as you rub up and down, gradually working your way higher and higher, from his belly button to that proud bull tattoo. A quiet growl rolls out of his chest when your thumb dares to swipe over one of his nipples, the closest thing he can get to purring.

But you're not done roaming. Wandering even further up, across his sweaty neck and up to his scruffy cheek. It's been far too long since the last time you've gotten to do this. Feeling the soft drag of his stubble under your touch, the way that he dares to twist his head and nip at your palm when it ventures close to his mouth. Every gentle bite is soothed with a kiss, peppering across your wrist and fingers.

"I suppose I should take that collar off of you," musing mostly to yourself. The leather still rests around his neck, no doubt sticking uncomfortably to his clammy skin, the leash still hanging from the loop.

"Wanna keep it on," stubborn to the very end, his foot kicking out, as if that can possibly add fuel to his argument, "jus' a little longer."

Your fingers drip down, tracing the redness that's long since appeared, his skin rubbed raw and no doubt sore from the collar. "It's chafing your neck." A part of you supposes its your fault, for not buying one meant to be worn on skin.

"But I like it," that bottom lip pokes out the slightest bit, pouting in the only way he knows how, "feels nice."

"It's gonna have to come off eventually," at the very least, you can unclasp the leash, tossing it off the edge of the bed with a surprisingly loud clatter. "We're both gonna need a shower here soon."

His head tilts, brows raised. "Who says?"

"Me," fighting back a smile. Whether or not you're doing a good job at it is anyone's guess.

"Nope." Rhett's defiantly shaking his head, as if that can possibly change the fact that the sheets and your inner thighs are stained with his cum, the kind of mess that absolutely requires a shower. "No, you don't."

All of a sudden, he's moving, rolling back on top of you before you can even begin to comprehend what he's up to. You're pinned like a damn note under a tack; try as you might, you can't get all one-hundred-something pounds of him to even budge. Practically trapped here on the bed, forced to endure his giggles and the nuzzle of his cold nose, burying its way back into the crook of your neck.

"You're not gonna move, are you?" Why do you keep asking questions that you already know the answer to?

"Nope," Rhett's pressing a kiss to a vein in your neck, like it will do anything to make this easier for you," the shower can wait a lil longer."

Admitting defeat has never been sweeter. You'd really love to climb into the shower and stand beneath the warm water with him, taking turns scrubbing each other down and rinsing the soap from his hair, but you don't mind this. Arms looping around his broad shoulders, hugging him close like some big, oversized teddy bear.

In the back of your mind, a tiny light kicks on. "Will you agree to move if I promise to get you a softer collar?"

"They make those?" His voice is muffled by your neck, words tickling as they vibrate through you.

Humming, you tap your fingers against the solid bone of his shoulder. "You can even pick out the color."

"Well, why didn't ya mention that before?"He's up on his haunches in the blink of an eye. Grinning from ear to ear, he reaches for your hands, giving them a tug, urging you to sit up. "C'mon!"

The sheets.

You need to get the sheets off the bed, but you've got no choice. Rhett's got a hold of you, and he's not letting go. Laughing, kicking up the biggest fuss he can possibly manage, eyes shimmering with pools of gold as he pulls you up onto your feet. Uncaring of the mess that is being left behind, too busy herding you in the direction of the bathroom.

The water is already running when you realize you've forgotten to grab clothes, arriving in the form of an offhanded thought whilst you were watching Rhett test the temperature with his foot. But he's beating you to that, too, eagerly darting off into the hallway like an oversized puppy. Doesn't even bother to wipe the water off his foot, leaving behind a trail of water droplets that shimmer in the light.

They kind of look like the stars you left on the barn floor. Twinkling little galaxies, just waiting to be discovered.

"Watcha lookin' at?" Rhett's already rounded the corner again, tossing those offhandedly chosen clothes in the direction of the sink. Whether or not he remembered to grab underwear is anyone's guess.

Your shoulders rise and fall with a shrug, "just a mess on the floor."

He'll help you make a bigger one after you two step out of the shower.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #werewolf au #werewolf rhett abbott #oneshot

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veltana · 8 months

Text

Highest bidder - Steve Rogers x virgin!reader

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader ✦ Word count: ~5k ✦ Raiting: Explicit ✦ Warnings: AU, kind of soft!dark Steve, reader is in her mid-twenties, one shot, pwp, insecurity, loss of virginity, piv sex, condoms, cunnilingus, smallest hint of a daddy kink, fluff and smut, dirty talk, friends to lovers, small hint of possessive/protective!Steve. Let me know if I missed anything! ✦ Summary: Tired of being a virgin and out of money you travel to Las Vegas to auction it off. Little do you know your friend Steve Rogers won't let anyone else have you. ✦ Note: I think this is among the first times that I cross-post a whole fic to tumblr. This fic is also on AO3. I'll see what the response is like here and maybe I'll continue to do it in the future.

Masterlist | AO3

"So what are you up to this weekend?" Steve asks as you take the first sip of your beer. For a second you debate not telling him and Bucky, sitting across from you in the booth. "Me and Wanda are going to Vegas." "What? Without me?" Bucky’s scandalized voice makes you laugh. "You don't like traveling, or Vegas for that matter," Steve points out. And that is true, you much prefer to stay in your apartment, reading your books and drinking tea. "Also, didn't you say you could hardly afford to go out with us tonight?" Bucky questions. "Well," you begin, scratching at the beer label, not wanting to look at them. "The trip is paid for." The stunned silence from across the table doesn't bode well, you know you're in for an interrogation now. "Do you need help? Are you in trouble?" Steve's concerned voice makes you look up. He's always so sweet and caring to you, looking out for you all the time.

"No, I'm fine. I'm doing it willingly," you answer. "What are you doing willingly?" There is no hiding the curiosity in Bucky’s voice. Once again you're not sure you're going to tell them, but it also doesn't make sense to keep it a secret. It's not a big deal, that's the whole point. "I'm auctioning off my virginity," you confess and are rewarded with both of them looking at you like you've grown a second head. Before they can say anything you continue. "I'm tired of it hanging over me, I just want it gone. And I'm also tired of scraping by. What you two make in an hour, I make in a month and I just want to be a step ahead instead of a step behind for once."

Bucky's smirk is the last thing you expect. "How much are you starting at, I'll double it." "Jerk." You throw some of your nuts his way. He laughs in response. "Honestly, tell me. What does a virginity go for these days?" "I'm starting out at three thousand. It would be more if I didn’t put in a clause about condoms and I’m a little bit older than most others.” “Well, my offer still stands,” Bucky concludes. “I bet it does, perv.” “And you don’t think the people buying you are pervs?” Steve’s been quiet up until now and his accusatory tone makes you defensive. “I’m not fucking stupid Steve, of course I know they are. They are also filthy rich. If I get bought by some disgusting old man I’ll smile and think about how fucking good it will feel not being stressed about money.” He still doesn’t look pleased and you didn’t come here to get judged. Finishing your beer you get up and grab your jacket. “I’ll see you around,” you say. Before walking out.

Vegas is overwhelming and loud. Instantly you shrink down, pulling your shoulders up. You would be lost if it wasn’t for Wanda. She’s in her element, flagging down cabs and weaving through the streets while you do your best to keep up. Finally, you arrive at your room. It’s small but not cramped and the two beds are clean. “First, shower, and then we’ll get started on your hair and makeup,” Wanda instructs. “You’re the best, you know that Wanda?” you smile at her. “What are best friends for if not fixing you up for some old guy to buy your V-card,” she winks.

Maybe Wanda is a witch, you think as you look at yourself in the tall mirror backstage. Somehow she took your average look and styled it into something you would never in a hundred years be able to recreate. Instead of the innocent style many seem to prefer, she made sure you looked sexy. If this had been a regular night of going out, you’d feel uncomfortable that someone you knew would see you, but the two glasses of champagne and the knowledge that no one except you and Wanda would ever see this made your confidence high. The night moves quickly, both women and men going up on the well-lit stage to present themselves and then watching as the bids start coming in. The people bidding are not in the room, but in different hotels scattered across the city, typing in numbers. Some people do elaborate shows when they step up in front of the cameras. One guy deep-throats a large banana and at first, you giggle but then you see the digits on the screen. His bids are the highest all evening so far. You decide quickly that you will just go up, smile, and wave and wait. You aren’t expecting much, but your pride hopes at least one or two people will find you attractive enough to at least pay the starting bid.

Soon it’s your turn. With a pounding heart, you step up on the stage, your body warms not only from the light but from the nervousness coursing through your body. You concentrate on your breathing so you won’t pass out and when you smile you hope it looks genuine. At first, the monitors are quiet and your heart drops. Are you not good enough for even some old lonely pervert? Then it dings with an incoming bid. It’s just above the starting sum, but you’re instantly relieved and can’t help the actually genuine smile that cracks your face. A second later another bid comes in. You don’t know how many people are placing the bids, you just see the number rise on the monitor, to your utter delight. Quickly it’s up to four thousand and the tempo slows, so maybe some people dropped out. But a few steady bids keep coming in, until it’s starting to near five thousand and it stops long enough for an automated voice ring out through the room. “Going once. Going twice.” Before it can finish the monitor chimes again, your mouth dropping open when you see the sum. Ten thousand dollars. It must be a mistake. The counting starts again, but you hardly hear it over the pure shock you’re experiencing.

Then you’re shooed away, given a room number and a key, before being put into a waiting car to take you to the hotel. When it stops outside of the Palms Casino you think you must be dreaming. It gets even worse when you realize you’re heading to the top floor. Whoever is waiting behind the door won’t matter, because you’ll gladly do anything they ask you.

The penthouse is stunning and it’s hard to take everything in. At the floor-to-ceiling windows, a figure is outlined. They’re backlit against the neon lights of Vegas and it’s hard to make out any details except the broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. That feels promising. They don’t turn around as you close the door but you don’t hesitate to step into the room and begin to walk up to them. Stopping a a few steps behind you say “Hi. I am flattered by your very generous-” But you don’t get further because the person turns around and your words get stuck in your throat. “Steve?!” You quickly step back to get away. This must be some cruel joke he and Bucky have come up with. Before you can run out of the room he grabs your wrist. The usually soft eyes are hard and his smiling mouth is a line of displeasure. “Let go of me,” you demand. “No can do, I paid for you,” his hard voice makes you still. “This isn’t funny, Steve.” “No, it’s not. Now you’re going to go into the bedroom and take off those heels, then kneel on the bed and wait for me,” his instructions make it very clear that if you argue, you won’t like what comes next, so instead you bow your head and say “Yes, Steve.”

You’ve never seen a king-size bed before and it’s much larger than you could’ve imagined. The sheets are soft against your knees as you sit on your feet, waiting. There are too many emotions and questions running wild in your body, but the most prominent one is Why had he bid on you? There is no denying Steve is good looking and when Wanda had first introduced you, sure you’d had a crush on him. But you never thought about pursuing it. His life was far from yours, with luxury cars and expensive dinners, while you went out to eat once a year on your birthday. Both he and Bucky had offered you money on several occasions but you’d never taken it, because you’d never be able to pay it back and money being owed between friends always caused trouble.

You hear the steps nearing the room and you meet his eyes as he steps through the open door. He has left his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, making him more desirable and more dangerous at the same time. Taking a stand a the foot of the bed he stares you down but you don’t cower. Even though you want to ask what the fuck this is, the tension in the air tells you not to talk back right now, just show him that you’re not afraid. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Steve is here because he is someone you trust would never hurt you, or do anything against your will.

“Here is how this is going to go, sweetheart. I’ll do right by you and take this nice and slow like you deserve. Then when it’s over we’re sitting down to a nice dinner, and afterward I’m bending you over the dining room table and taking out all my fucking frustration on that cunt of yours until you can’t walk straight.” His words send lightning bolts of desire through you and you nod in understanding. “Use your words,” he demands. “Yes, Steve,” you agree. Then he crooks his fingers, indicating he wants you to come to him. You crawl the short way to the edge and sit back again. His fingers grip your chin carefully. “I’m going to kiss you.” “Okay.”

The second he presses his lips to yours it's like being on cloud nine. It's soft but not hesitant and you instinctively grab a hold of his shirt. Steve begins slowly, as if not to scare you but the more you meet his advances the more he takes. Then he coaxes your lips to part, slipping in his tongue and finding yours to play with. Kissing other people has been nice before, but kissing Steve is exceptional. When his hands land at your waist and pull you into him, you can't keep the moan in. His touch hardens and it makes you throb to be this close to him.

You’re a little out of it when he pulls away and you must look it too because he chuckles. "You like that?" A dopey smile splits your lips and you nod. But then his hands travel to the front of your dress, hooking his fingertips into the fabric and you can’t help stiffen. "Have you ever had your tits played with?" he asks. With a groan, you shake your head. "If you think kissing was great just wait until I get my mouth on the rest of you." He sounds so confident, but you’re not and either it’s blatantly obvious that you’re insecure or he knows you too well.

"How are you feeling?" You think about lying for a second but then decide against it. "I don’t understand why.” "Why what?" "I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but, why me Steve?" You find the courage to look up at him. Now he has that soft smile that you absolutely adore on his stupidly handsome face. His voice is just as soft when he speaks.

"Not only are you absolutely stunning, and I’m not talking about the way you’re dolled up right now. I love seeing you in your big sweaters while you go around the bookstore and help people with recommendations. I also admire you, because you follow your heart. Doing what makes you happy is important to you and I wish I were more like that. Even if you look out for yourself, that never stops you from caring about others. You cry when you see clips of rescue animals. And you're so so obvious that I've been in love with you since Wanda introduced you." "What?" you choke, your whole reality shifting. "Sweet, dumb little pet.” Steve’s hands cup your face and light squeezes your cheeks together for a second. “I've wanted you since you stammered out your name. Something so pure and precious deserves the world." "I didn’t know,” you whisper. "Of course you didn’t. When I got home that night, I jerked myself off to the thought of you and I swear I never come so hard in my life."

"Steve!" Heat rushes into your cheeks at his words. "I’ve had time to think about this a lot. I'm going to get you so wet and needy you will beg for my cock. I'm gonna make sure you're at the brink of insanity, deliriously begging for me to fuck you, even though you don't know what it feels like." "Oh god!" you moan, desire moving through your body. "Let me taste you, kitten. Let me make you scream,” his seductive voice rumbles.

Nodding you watch as his fingers pull the dress down, baring your breasts to his eyes. Instantly he cups them, thumbs brushing your nipples, making you keen. "Prettiest fucking tits I've ever seen," he whispers before leaning down and licking a nipple. The sensation makes you grab hold of his head to steady yourself. His tongue flicks it several times before sucking it into his mouth and you arch into him, clutching him, moaning out his name. Sure, you've been aroused in your life before, but the ache Steve creates is starting to feel painful. "Steve!" you plead when he switches to the other side, giving your other nipple the same treatment. He hums against your skin before pulling off you with a plop and immediately kisses you again. Nothing is really different from before but just knowing that Steve's tongue was just somewhere else on your body and now it's in your mouth makes you heat up even more.

It feels good when he takes charge, it keeps your thoughts from running in all the wrong directions. He gets you to lie down, crawling onto the bed after you, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can get to while you shudder under him. "How are you feeling?" he asks with a shit-eating grin, clearly knowing he's responsible for your state. "Goodgoodgood!" Is all you can get out while pawing at his clothed chest. "Want me to take it off?" Nodding vigorously you try to undo the buttons, but fail. He laughs and sits back between your spread legs, untucking the shirt and pulling it over his head. The bulge in his pants is very visible and you swallow hard at the sight of it, both scared and excited. He notices you looking. "We'll get to that later," he promises with another kiss. "First I'm going to get you wet and ready for me."

A hand hikes up your skirt and a finger follow the edge of your panties, down toward the juncture of your leg. It's like hot coal against your skin, burning you most sweetly. Even if you’re already soaked, his touch is sending pulse after pulse into your cunt and you're scared you're about to stain the sheets if he continues. A fingertip caresses over your core, touch so light it's almost not there but your sensitive skin feels it. Trembling you arch up, gripping the sheets. "Is that good?" Not knowing if you can speak you just nod and he continues. Down your thighs and back up, over and over again against your covered cunt, fingers getting firmer and firmer the more sounds you make.

A thrill you've never felt before has taken up place in your body, threatening to send your mind spiraling. To distract yourself you explore the plains of Steve's body that you can reach, stroking his arms and shoulders, but to feel him makes it even worse. You can’t wait to have him pressed against you.

Sitting back again he says, "I'm going to take these off now." He hooks his fingers at the top of your panties and starts to pull. "Lift your ass up." He instructs. Now your tits and your cunt are exposed for him. Steve is staring, but when you try to close your legs from embarrassment he quickly puts his hands on your thighs to spread them apart even more. "Don't you dare take that pretty pussy away from me," he all but growls and it sends another wave of pleasure into you. The air feels cold against your wet, warm skin. Then his gaze flicks up to you and with another smile, he leans down bending you almost in half, placing a kiss on your lips. "Last kiss before I devore you," he whispers and slides down your body. When his words sink in, you go rigid.

"No, you don't have to, we can just‐" you begin but the look he gives silences you. "Do you know how long I have waited for this?" He nips the inside of your thigh. "No," you whimper. "Been dreaming about how you would feel, and taste." He mouths at your skin. "The nights I can’t sleep I lie there and think of you soaking my beard when you come for me," he groans and moves down a little more until his face is right in front of your pussy. "Now I'm having my fill and when I'm done you'll be primed for my cock, I promise."

Not giving you any time to answer he dives in. His tongue feels nothing like your own fingers, or the vibrator you have in your drawer. It's sending you to heaven with every stroke. Steve takes notes of what makes you moan the loudest and in no time the unmistakable warmth of an orgasm begins to build. You do your best to keep still, but it's hard when it feels so good and Steve follows your every movement until your thighs are trembling heavily, breath coming out in irregular gasps, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart.

It climbs quicker than you expect and when the orgasm rips through you it’s with a cry, that leaves you almost boneless afterward. Looking down, panting, you notice you've basically crushed Steve's head between your thighs. With a "Sorry!" You spread them apart and he comes up for air, his beard glistening with you. "How was that?" "Incredible," you sigh. The ache that threatened to consume you has died down to a more manageable throb. "Great." He positions himself again and you stare with wide eyes. An amused smirk plays on his lips. "Did you think that was it?" You try to stutter out a response but he raises his hand and wiggles his fingers playfully. "Now you get these too."

After a second you relax into the pillows, trusting Steve with your body. He's gentle when he begins, now that your cunt is a million times more sensitive, but soon you're trembling again, and then the tip of his finger is at your opening. It slides in without resistance and the feeling changes. More nerves send sparks through you from new places. It's too much for your poor brain to decipher and you don’t fight it, just let it take you, like you’re floating down a stream. "Good girl, relaxing for me so well." Through bleary eyes you see him looking up at you. "Ready for another one?" You're not sure what that means but you nod anyway and are rewarded with a smile. He never looks away from you as you feel another finger press in together with the first. A high-pitched sound leaves you as your chest heaves. It's too much but not enough. You’re so full but in the best way possible. Then he moves them and you can hear just how wet he's made you.

His tongue comes back to play with your clit and soon you're at the edge of another orgasm. "Yes yes yes!" You chant over and over again. Everything he does feels so good. The sensation of clamping down on his fingers as you come is new and makes the orgasm much stronger this time, leaving you mildly disoriented for a second. "God, you look so beautiful when you come." Steve lays his head against your leg, still moving his hand and sending small aftershocks into your body. "You know what?" "What Stevie?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse as you reach down and place your hand in his soft hair, carding your fingers through it, just to feel him. "I don't think you noticed, but there are three fingers inside you now." You make a questioning sound. "Added another right after you came. No problem at all. Just need you to come one more time, then I'll know you're ready." He does something with his fingers inside you, making you whimper from the pleasure it sends through you. "Found your G-spot too," he looks smug as he says it. "Let's see what happens when I play with just that."

It’s another new experience that puts your body on edge in the best way. The pleasure never dissipates but it never builds either and finally you can't stand it anymore, deciding to beg for the relief he can give you. "Stevie, please! Use your mouth again!" "Of course, when you ask so nicely." When he sucks your clit into his mouth, it makes you see stars, and seconds later the built-up ecstasy reaches its peak. Gripping his head you grind against his tongue with a cry of his name because it’s so fucking good.

Afterward, you sink down with a relieved sigh and you're pretty sure your muscles have never been this relaxed in your life. "Such a good girl for me." Steve praises before pulling out his fingers, licking them clean, and moving off the bed. You instantly feel achingly empty. Not taking his eyes from you he undo his pants and slide them and his underwear off.

The sight of his hard, leaking cock standing out from his body is kind of mesmerizing. You've seen dicks in pictures, sent unsolicited to you on a few occasions, and a couple of times when you've tried to watch porn. Never before have you thought a dick could look pretty. As if something possesses your body you crawl over to the edge of the bed, settling on your legs and reaching out towards it. Steve watches, chest heaving slightly as you trace his cock with a fingertip, all the way from root to tip, dipping it into the leaking mess. Looking up at him you bring it to your mouth and lick it. The groan he lets out in response is delicious.

It doesn't taste bad, just different and you're about to ask if you can try to take him in your mouth but as if sensing your thoughts he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. At first, you try to move away, knowing where he has just been, but he keeps a steady hand at the back of your neck, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, and just like him, it’s not bad, just different. "If I let you touch me more than that, I'll burst,” he explains before he grabs your dress and pulls it off you in one go. “Now be good and lay down again." "Yes, Stevie," you answer and fall onto the bed, spreading your legs. Instead of joining you right away, he walks up to the bedside table and opens a drawer, pulling out a square package.

Embarrassment fills you. In your post-orgasmic state, you forgot about your own rule. If he hadn’t gotten a condom you would gladly have let him take you raw. Lucky for you, Steve is not the type of person to take advantage of you like that. He rolls it on and you swallow hard. Just the look of it is big, you’re not sure how it will fit. "Don't be scared. With how wet you are, it’ll glide right in," he says with a smile, kneeling between your spread legs.

This is the moment, you think. After this, you won't be a virgin anymore. Even if it is just a social construct, you've never actually had a dick inside of you and that will be a new experience. Steve kisses you, helping the doubts slip away. The rubber feels weird against your lower lips, and then it's at your opening. The tip presses inside and Steve watches your face. "Does it hurt?" he asks. "No,” you assure him. “It's just different." "Tell me if you want to stop." "Just keep going."

Slowly he eases his way inside and once he bottoms out both of you are breathing heavily. With a groan, Steve's head lands on your shoulder. "Fuck you're like a vice around my dick. I'm going to try to move." You wrap your arms around his shoulders, caressing his back and he starts moving. You feel like you're filled to the brim and it's pressing against your G-spot, making you warm and high again. Experimentally you lift your hips, meeting his, eliciting a moan from him. "I'm sorry," Steve mumbles. "I won't last long." Before you can respond he continues. "You feel too good. So tight and warm. Fuck!" Then he lifts himself on one of his strong arms before grabbing the back of your neck and bending it until you're looking down toward where your bodies are connected. Steve slams his hips into you and you answer with a cry of pleasure. "Look at that unused cunt taking my big cock so well." "Steve!" you whine. His thrusts are too good, the pressure too much, and looking at it only makes you hotter. "It was made for me, right?" "Yes! Ah! Steve!" The throb in your clit is driving you insane and you reach down to relieve it. "Oh fuck. Are you gonna come on my dick your first time? That's dirty." You never expected words to be such a big part of sex, but the way Steve is talking is heightening your sensation.

"That's right. Rub your clit for me. Fuck you're clenching around me so hard. Tell me if you're gonna come." Nodding frantically you feel the climax building. Your whole body is a coil wind up tight and you're not sure what will happen when it snaps.

"I'm - I'm… I think I'm going to come, Steve," you moan. The pressure in your lower stomach is excruciating and delirious. You just need a little more. Letting go of your head he meets your eyes. "Good girl, I'm right behind you. Squeeze me dry. Come for Daddy." The last words enter your brain and sweep you off. The orgasm takes over your whole body and drowns you in pleasure. The edge of your vision blurs, your body shuddering violently. You hear the blood pumping in your veins. Feel your heart drumming in your ribcage. On some level you're aware of Steve above you, chanting your name as his hips pump into you and he fills the condom.

The weight of him is nearly crushing but also makes you feel safe. For the first time, you have the presence of mind to take in his body as you caress down his sides and his back, down over his ass as far as you can reach. It makes him sigh happily and you feel so content. After a while, he raises himself on his elbows and pecks your lips, nose, and cheeks until you giggle, before getting off completely and disposing of the condom. As soon as the warmth of him leaves, small, cruel thoughts about this once again being some kind of joke start forming in your head. Despite what he’s said, you find it hard to believe that it would be true.

Before you have time to think more about it he is beside you in the bed again, leaning on his arm and looking down at you. "So, how was that?" He’s curious, there’s no hiding it. "Better than I could ever dream of," you answer honestly. "Well, that's an ego boost," Steve laughs. "How… How was I?" He kisses you before he whispers, "Best I ever had." You can't help but snort at that. "Don't fucking lie to me."

With a growl Steve rolls onto his back, taking you with him and making you lay on his chest. "It's the fucking truth, and unless you want a spanking to go with the next round, you're going to believe me." That tone of voice. The threat of pain and pleasure combined sparks something inside you, and Steve notices. "Oh, does that make you horny?" Hiding your face in the crook of his neck you say "Yes, Daddy." Steve groans and crushes you into his chest. "If I could fuck you again right now, believe me, I would."

Several hours later you're in bed again, pressed against Steve’s warm chest. He did what he promised and you’re sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. But something is weighing on your mind. “I’ll pay you back,” you say. “If you do, you’ll wish I spanked you.” “But-,” “No. I told you that you deserve the world, that money is a drop in the ocean to me.” “I can’t believe you bought me.” “I can’t believe you sold your body.” Even if you can’t see him, his voice makes it clear he’s not happy. “The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you. I’m not a violent man, but that makes me want to kill.” “I’m glad it was you,” you confess with a smile and kiss his skin. A moment later he’s on top of you, kissing you sweetly and you feel him stirring against you, growing hard. An answering wetness pool at your core. “I need you again,” he murmurs against your mouth. With a nod, you reach between your bodies to guide him inside. Pulling back, he says “Condom.” When he reaches over to the bedside table, you shake your head and lift your hips. “Oh fuck, are you sure?” “I want to feel you,” you reassure him. It’s a bit sore when he presses inside but the movements are slow, and the kisses quickly take your mind off it. Afterward, he doesn’t pull out, and you fall asleep with his cum and cock between your legs, happy he was your highest bidder.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x virgin!reader #virgin!reader #rich!steve rogers #protective!steve rogers #possessive!steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #veltana writes

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sinner-sunflower · 2 months

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 9/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Whew! Even though there's so much work later, I somehow wrote a kinda long one.

Also,

I have the major plot points down now. As for the ending, I saw a comic on twitter and will definitely take inspiration for it.

I'm very excited for this.

Will be reqriting this better after it's finished and MAYBE.. I'll have the confidence to post it on ao3.

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Charlie doesn't dare to move even after her father left. She doesn't know how long she stayed kneeling on the ground, staring at the spot where her dad once was.

She can't stop her tears. Is this stress? No. Maybe it's the daddy issues Husk is always talking about.

She hurt her dad again. But he also caused her hurt first and-

Charlie: No! Oh my god. Do I really think that?

Lately, they are becoming each other's undoing. She knows she has the right to be angry, but ...

She can see that he's really trying. Doing everything she asks of him, fixing the hotel, staying at the hotel to help and support her, even getting along with Alastor - now that she thinks about it, what's up with her dad and Alastor?

That's how Vaggie found her- still on the ground, face adorned with dried tears tracks, and definitely deep in thought.

Vaggie: Sweetie? You okay?

Charlie: Vaggie

The dam broke and she was crying again. Charlie hugs her lover tight. Vaggie's shirt was getting wet from tears and snot but she just hugged back just as tightly.

Vaggie: What happened?

Charlie: D-dad.. he- he- wahhhhh

Vaggie: Is he okay? Did something happen? Did he.. did he do something to you?

Charlie: No, Vaggie! More like I did something to him! He was here, in our room, wanting to talk! But I-I-I was so happy. And then he said he was leaving and-and then he said I'll be handling pride and- I wahhh

Charlie didn't know how she had any more tears left to give. Just rethinking what just happened makes her even more miserable.

Vaggie: Wait, wait. Leaving? Why? Didn't he just got here and what about the thing in Sloth??

Charlie sniffs.

Charlie: He said it's related to it- that he needs to find something, no, someone. He didn't want to go without saying goodbye and I just.. exploded.

She nuzzles her face on the fallen angel's neck.

Charlie: I don't want to lose my dad, Vaggie.

Vaggie doesn't know what to say if she's being honest. She wants to be mad at Lucifer. Like, how could a parent who claims they adore their child amongst everything else abandon said child. Lucifer wasn't there when Charlie wouldn't get out of bed whenever her birthday came up, he wasn't there when Vaggie caught her staring at the family portrait full of wishful thinking, or when she cries calls out to her parents in her sleep, or-

But she can't. Because he's trying just like she was back then. They're both doing a little redemption on their own- it just happens to be for the same person.

So she understands. To hurt and to be hurt.

Vaggie: I haven't known your dad for very long, Charlie. But I can tell that... he cares. Yes, he's awkward, a bit socially inept, and has his own issues. But, there's one constant in everything he does.

Charlie: What's that?

Vaggie: You, dummy. He loves you more than anything. He probably made the deal with Heaven to spare Hellborns because of you, now that I think about it. My point is, there is no way in the seven rings of hell that he won't put you above everything.

Charlie is about to protest but Vaggie cuts her off.

Vaggie: Uh! He will. You know why?

Charlie: Why?

Vaggie: Because you're his daughter. It's just how parents are.

Vaggie pulls them both up and they gaze into each other's eyes lovingly.

Charlie: What would I do without you, Vaggie?

Vaggie: Still be your amazing self, I'm sure. I hope you guys resolve this, though. Maybe you could convince him to try other dating options. I don't like this whole thing going on with your dad and Alastor.

They laugh and share a kiss.

Her girlfriend was right. This is how her dad is. He's willing to be better for her.

I want to be better for him too.

....

Wait.

Charlie: What?!

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What to look forward to in Part 10:

Lucifer in Sloth.

Going to Earth.

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foxyarchive · 1 month

Text

Your Guardian Angel(Or Devil) P3

You go on a date, and Adam can't resist being a dick about it. Set between chapters 1 & 2.

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Drinking, mild spice, brief dubious consent with Adam(nothing bad, promise).

Words: ~6k

Well found out I'm bad at writing stuff that's not plot LMAO like Reader and Adam shitposting. Wanna do more of it but it's hard for me to write... So probably plot either next chapter or next. Tried to prolong as long as I could soz.

Tags in comments! Ask to be added to the Taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

You step out of the shower with a sigh, toweling off your body and drying your hair as best as you can for the time being. You had a few hours until you were going out, so you were going to take your time getting yourself looking nice and presentable. You wrap the towel around your body, bending over your sink to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you’ve finished that, you move to adjust your towel so it doesn’t fall, trying to decide what you want to use on your hair.

“Weeeeelll, looks like I popped up at the right time.” You scream in shock, your hand fumbling as your towel drops and pools around your feet. You hear a whistle, and look over with a burning face as you see Adam standing just outside your bathroom door, biting his lip and wiggling his brows.

“A-Adam! Fuck– S-Stop looking!” You crow, trying to cover your bits as best you can as you bend down to pick up your towel. He just laughs, pointing a finger at you as you try to remain a shred of modesty. Your face and body are unbearably warm right now in embarrassment. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“Chillaaaax, sweet-tits, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Comes his too haughty for your liking response. Somehow, you burn even more at that as you try to wrap your towel around yourself.

“W-What? You’ve… Seen me naked before?” You tremble a bit, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sudden admission to the lack of privacy.

“Duh. I have this orb thing that lets me just look in on you whenever I want. I don’t really use it, though, don’t care enough to watch your boring ass life.” He says it so nonchalantly, you can’t help but to feel goosebumps raise over your skin. The look across your face must’ve caught his attention, as he just gives another wave of his hand and roll of his eyes as he turns away from you. “It’s a Guardian thing, don’t make it fuckin’ weird now. I mean, unless you wanna.” He looks back at you with a sly leer, raising his brows once again.

“No!” You respond, almost immediately, appalled at the implication. One that an angel was making, no less! Wasn’t he supposed to be more… Virtuous? You do remember the last time you saw him, though… Implied he could really get away with whatever he wanted. There has to be certain boundaries that can’t be crossed, though. He just shrugs, turning away boredly.

“Your loss, babes.” He makes his way into your bedroom, and you follow after him as you finish fixing your towel around yourself.

“Isn’t lust a sin?” You can’t help but ask as he spreads out his wings and flops back onto your bed carelessly.

“‘Isn’t lust a sin!?’” He mocks you in that stupid ass voice again, and you puff out your cheeks in annoyance. “I don’t sin. I’m fuckin’ Adam, in case you forgot. I’m perfect.” He grins, pointing at himself. He then proceeds to roll over to his side, propping his head up with a hand as his elbow rests on the bed. You just suppress a sigh, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. Wait… He was here. Did that mean…?

“Was I about to die?” You suddenly gape, looking around the room, wondering what was going to happen. An earthquake? Maybe you use a blow dryer and you almost get electrocuted? Slipping and falling out of the shower, perhaps? You look back when he doesn’t respond at first, and you see the face he makes.

“The fuck? No, what?” He frowns, and you mirror the confusion on your face.

“But… That’s why you’re here… Right? You come around to prevent my death…?” You inquire, slowly, and a small look of realization passes across his features.

“Oooh… Yeah, nah, I was just bored. Wanted to swing by, see how your shitty mortal life was going.” He declares, flopping onto his back once more, resting his hands on his stomach. His horns rest over the side of your bed. So does most of his body. He’s massive.

“Are you allowed to do that?” You blink. He turns his head slightly towards you, exasperated.

“‘Tits, we just went over this.” He deadpans. Oh. Right. He’s Adam. He can do… Whatever he wants, apparently.

“Err. Okay, right, well…” You shift from side to side, somewhat nervous. Some droplets fall from your hair onto your shoulders and back, despite having tried to dry it off earlier. “Sorry to… Disappoint you? But I’m going out tonight, so I can’t… Hangout??” What do you even say? Did he want to hang out? Just say hello? What kind of weird relationship were you starting to build with your divine fucking angel?

“Wow, finally doin’ something on a Friday night besides binging a shitty show, doing a game, or jilling off?” He remarks, sitting up now as your face heats up even more.

“D-Don’t say that!” You groan, turning away as you cover your face with your hands at his crass words. He really does look in on you! You’re not proud about how you spend some of your weekend nights… You like to go hangout with your friends when you can, but everyone can get so busy. You hear him mockingly laugh, which only makes you heat up more in embarrassment. “For your information, I have a date tonight! So if you can just… Fly off or whatever so I can get ready, that would be great, thanks.” You snip over your shoulder, turning and walking back in the bathroom.

You squeak in surprise as Adam suddenly appears in front of you, wings flared as he hunches over your smaller stature. “A date, huh? Really? You?” He sneers, and you scoff, anger flaring in your chest.

“Yes, me! That’s rude. I’m attractive! And capable of dating. And holding conversations. I’m doing it with you right now!” You pause, briefly. “The conversation part, I mean.” He hums, giving a small nod of his head, crossing his arms as he tucks his wings back against his side.

“Uh-huh, suuuure. And you don’t want me to go with you?” He rubs his chin, and you squint at him.

“What are you getting at? Why would I want you to come with? So you can distract me?” You roll your eyes, inching passed him to go and gather some makeup to put on.

“Babes, if you’re that distracted by me, maybe it’s best to not go out with some other bozo while you’re thinkin’ about me. After all, I am right here.” He grins, slinging an arm across your shoulder. You stiffen at the contact, swallowing nervously as he dips his face close to yours. Why did your Guardian Angel have to be so horny? Looking at the size of him as well, even if you both did end up tangled in bed, you’re not even certain it’d fit… “Thinkin’ about this dick? Don’t blame you.” He lightly grips your chin with the arm around your shoulder, pushing it to look towards him. He cranes his head closer to you. You’re horrified he caught on to your train of thought. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel fucking great. I’ll make sure that pretty little pus–”

“No, no, stop!” As he begins to ramble, you suddenly pull yourself away from him, breathing more rapid. To your relief, he just looks irritated, but he doesn’t pressure you or crowd you again. He pulls back, even seeming to flatten his wings a little more against his side to make himself appear less large. “I’m not– You’re not– This is… Inappropriate! I’m like… Your client, or whatever!” You grimace at the wording, even if it’s true. Adam just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“I fuckin’ told you, it doesn’t matter. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” He pauses. “Almost anything. Fucking is on the list, though.” He confirms with a nod. You just groan, putting your head in your hands.

“I… I don’t… I mean… How could you even want to fuck me?” You can’t help but ask, as you consider this more and more.

“Uuuh. Because you’re hot and got a rockin’ bod?” He lifts a brow. Well, guess that’s some sort of an ego boost for you… or is it? Adam seems like the kinda guy to stick his dick in anyone with a pulse that throws mild attention his way, really. Maybe you should take that comment with a grain of salt, then…

“No, I mean– You’ve watched me my whole life. Don’t you feel some sort of… I don’t know… Protective, parental kinship for me?” You can’t help but ask, grimacing a bit at the thought. You don’t know whether to feel angry or embarrassed as he starts laughing at you, full blown, even hunching over a bit. “Why are you– That’s not funny!” You stutter out. It’s anger you feel, alright. He straightens up some, trying to calm down, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Oooh. Oh, that’s fuckin’ hilarious, ‘tits. Really, super funny.” He wheezes, an easy grin crossing his features as he puts his hands on his hips. “Nice try, but ah, no. You’re right, in a sense. You’re basically just my nuisance client.” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Mm… Maybe more like a pet.” He mumbles in thought, and you feel another flare of anger.

“A– A pet!?” You cry in outrage.

“Yeah! But like, a fuckable one. Shit, wait no, that sounds fucking weird, back that up–” He puts his hands up, and you decide to bite your tongue as you resist the urge to go and pluck his wings. “Uuugh, why are you making me describe this shit! Look.” He finally breathes in, clasping his hands together as he takes a step towards you. You shift a half step back, and he stops, but continues talking. “To me, you’re just this lady I gotta look after. Like I said, I didn’t really actually watch you. Checked occasionally because Sera was on my dick about it, but that’s whatever. You’re like, what, thirty something now, though?”

“I’m–” You begin to offer him your correct age, but he just waves you off.

“Whatever, you’re old.” You huff at his comment. “You’re an adult, you can make your own fuckin’ choices, yada yada. All I'm saying is: Original dickmaster, right here.” He grins, pointing to himself. You remain silent, still eyeing him, face still slightly scrunched up. Even if you both were two consenting adults(with him falling more along the lines of… primordial demi-God way older than you), you're not losing sight of what you have in mind tonight. Especially not for Adam, who has been quite callous with you. You're not even sure he actually likes you.

“Okay, well… Thanks for all the clarification. I guess.” You utter the last part under your breath, turning away from him. “Still going out with my date tonight. Still would like it if you weren't there.” You then declare, moving past him once more to go and get ready, and you just hear a scoff leave his throat.

“You sure ‘bout that? Hear men on Earth are pretty shitty. What if he tries to… I dunno, kill you or something?” He states, and you can see the squint he’s eyeing you with through your mirror.

“Then you’ll protect me? Like you’re supposed to?” You can’t help but to bite out in response, growing tired of this. Adam hisses out a slow, quiet breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue.

“I dunno about that… I mean, what if it’s your time? What if this is where you meet your fate? At the hands of some dude you think is cool?” The seed he sows in your head makes you pause at what you’re doing. He did say that he knew when you were going to die, but… He’s just fucking with you. He has to be.

“Okay, well, even if this was where I was going to die, then who cares? It’s fate, right? You can’t interfere with that.” You roll your eyes, trying to quell the now uncertain flutter in your stomach. He walks forward once more, hovering right behind you as he cranes his neck down slightly to peer at you. You don’t turn around to meet him, only eye him uncertainly through the mirror.

“Don’t you remember who I am?” He utters to you, quietly, and that makes you pause. There’s no shot he can circumvent your death… Right? Besides, he was just bluffing. You were going to be fine tonight. He backs off, though, abrupt and with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Just saying. Lotta stuff can happen.” Then he disperses in a flitter of gold. You’ve never felt more uncertain in your life. You assume he’s just trying to get your goat, but the anxiety in you is beginning to try and spin a tale otherwise. You look ahead, just focusing on getting ready.

The rest of the time you doll yourself up, it’s blissfully quiet, which acts as both a blessing and a curse. You can just focus on the night ahead, but it also lets you mull over your thoughts about what Adam said. He’s just fucking with me. He’s not serious about it. Why is he even saying stuff like that? You ponder as you finally get into your car, heading towards the bar you were supposed to be meeting your date. You park, check yourself in the mirror, and head inside. There you spot your date, sitting at the bartop, and all you can think of currently is thank God you didn’t get catfished.

“Hey! Ryan, right?” You smile as you approach, and he looks at you, offering a smile in return. He inquires your name, and you nod, unto which he shakes your hand when you hold it out. Well, it starts as a handshake, and turns into a somewhat unprompted hug, which you gingerly return before you sit next to him.

“It’s great to meet you in person! You look lovely.” He compliments, and you offer a bashful smile, returning a compliment yourself. After you both decide on what to drink and order, he faces back towards you. You both begin to divulge the basics of one another– What you do for work, what hobbies you have, some places you’ve visited before. It’s going fine, and he’s awfully nice, but you can’t help but to feel… A little bored. Any spark you had felt over texting him through the app you’d met him in is slowly beginning to drain. You have a few things in common, but not much, and you can’t help but to feel a little worn down with the conversation. It certainly doesn’t help that you’ve ordered another drink as well. Why the Hell did you do that?

As you’re beginning to feel your eyes glaze over when he talks about a very… Uninteresting work trip he had in a rather monotonous way, something catches your attention. It’s out of the corner of your eye. A flicker of gold. You glance over, seeing nothing of the sort, and shift a bit to draw your attention back to Ryan. Suddenly, your date flinches a bit, and you frown, sitting up. “Are you okay?” You ask, and he rubs the side of his head, glancing around. You look down, noticing a partially discarded peanut shell next to his barstool.

“Yeah, sorry, I… I thought I felt something.” He frowns, looking back at you, giving a sheepish smile. “Guess it was nothing. Anyways, as I was saying, we arrived at this studio where–” You see the peanut shell coming this time, smacking Ryan square in the ear. He looks behind him, and slowly, you do as well. Your eyes stretch wide in mortification. You see Adam, sitting at an empty table, a smirk on his face with an array of used peanut shells on the table. Someone had just left, and looks like he decided to sit there and bug your date. For a moment, a flicker off worry runs through you. Can Ryan see him? You crane your neck over a bit, but by the look of stark confusion on his features, it’s clear that he can’t. “Did– Did you see anyone throw something at me?” He frowns, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see Adam’s grin widen.

“No.” You respond, because truthfully, you didn’t actually see Adam do it. You’re sure it’s him, though… Ryan just rubs the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish look.

“I swear, I keep feeling something pelting me… I guess it just must be my imagination.” He murmurs, and your eyes shift past him. You see Adam lining up another shell, biting his tongue in concentration. You give him a warning glare as best as you can without making it seem like you’re pointing your stare towards Ryan, but either Adam doesn’t catch onto it or doesn’t care. He flicks his middle finger, and the shell goes flying, thunking Ryan right on the back of his head. This time, Ryan stands up, flustered as he looks around to try and catch the culprit. You dig your nails into your palms as Adam begins to laugh, pointing at your date as he leans back in the chair.

“Ahah– You should– You should see his face. He’s so pissed. And confused. Not– Not sure which he’s more of.” He cackles. You try your best– You really, really do. You want to be upset with Adam interrupting things, but you can’t help giving a snort of laughter. You then cover your mouth, trying to stifle it as best as you can as Ryan’s head swivels around to catch the culprit.

“Are– Are you okay, Ryan?” You try not to wheeze or show that much of a smile as he huffs out, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“No– I mean, yes, I just– There is somebody here who is pelting me with… With something.” He finally looks at the ground, near him, seeing the shells. “With peanuts, I suppose… I can’t find out who.” You feel guilty, now, as you see the embarrassed look across his features. Even more guilty that you have to pretend like he’s crazy. Is this gaslighting?

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen anyone doing anything.” You finally say. You don’t feel good about it, but what can you do? Tell him your primordial guardian angel that acts like a twelve year old is flicking used peanut shells at him?

“Yes, I’m sure! I think I am, at least.” He’s looking more and more uncertain now, sheepishly sitting back down. You offer him a comforting pat on his hand as he takes a sip of his drink, trying not to draw your eyes away from him as Adam comes over.

“This dude is soooo boring. Why don’t you fuckin’ leave already?” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he glowers down at Ryan. You stiffen as you see someone walking in the path of Adam, but to your slight surprise(and relief), the person walks right through him. Adam’s body shimmers and ripples a bit as it happens, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him at all. For obvious reasons, you can’t respond, especially as Ryan speaks back up.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just… Being paranoid. I’m a little nervous, sorry, but the date has been wonderful so far! You’re really interesting, I’m so glad I got to come out here with you.” He admits, smiling a bit bashfully, and you can’t help but to smile at the rather sweet admission as well. You feel your cheeks warm. You see Adam faux gag himself with a finger, and you suppress the urge to snip something to him.

“I’m glad we got to do this, too.” You respond back to Ryan. Well, even if you didn’t really click, it was still nice to get out and get a drink. Speaking of… Maybe you should finish your second one a little faster. A flicker of guilt passes through you. Perhaps… You could make a bit more of an effort. Ask additional questions about his trip, engage more where you can. “What, uh… Made you want to work as an interior designer? Family, or just something personal?” You decide on, because that can always be interesting. Ryan seems to perk up at the question.

“My grandmother was one, actually! I didn’t realize how much I liked it until I went with her one day when I was younger to work in an emergency.” He chuckles. “I got to see how she worked, who she worked with, and how she would put some things together.”

“Ask him if he’s sure he’s actually interested in women.” Adam pipes up, moving to stand beside you, and you grit your jaw at his comment. That almost makes you snap out and snarl at him, but you try not to as Ryan continues to go on about the experience, as well as what pushed him further towards it. “Fucking– This guy is so boring. It’s boring me and I don’t even have to pretend to be listening.” He groans out, tilting his head back.

Why doesn’t he just leave? You can’t help but to think in irritation. Adam isn’t bound here. Unless… Something is going to happen, but you don’t get that feeling. You watch as your Guardian moves to stand beside your date, now, making a talking motion with his hand while he mimics something similar to ‘blah, blah, blah’ with his mouth. Trying to stifle a noise of anger, you quickly slam down your drink with a sigh, just as Ryan finishes his story. He can see the force you put your drink down with, and he blinks.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, and you sigh out, giving him a smile. Adam is really grinding your gears. Your head is just a bit fuzzy thanks to the drinks. You can think clearly enough, but you also feel on the edge enough to spite Adam with all of his comments tonight.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry. Getting a bit loud in here is all. Wanna head back to my place?” You find yourself asking, quirking a brow.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” It’s more of an exclamation than a question Adam shoots out, and you suppress a smirk, opting for the smile on your face. Ryan seems a little taken aback, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“I got some streaming services, if that’s to your fancy.” You add in. Ryan was boring, sure. You thought that, but hearing Adam say it and egg you on to leave just pushed you to do this. Plus, Ryan was really attractive. Like, totally your type.

“O-Oh. Yeah, sure, okay.” He smiles, bashful again, how sweet. He finishes his own drink, pays, and the two of you head out. You can see Adam standing in the background, irritation written all over his features, and you can’t help but to sneak a look back at him and stick out your tongue. He just flips you off before he disappears. You tell Ryan to follow you as you get into your car, and he gets into his, and you lead him back to your apartment. It’s quiet when you both walk in, and Adam isn’t even around anymore. Suddenly, you’re a bit irritated he didn’t stick around. You were supposed to be rubbing this in his face… Or something! Maybe not. You wanted him to leave, wanted to spite him, and clearly you did enough to make him piss off.

You’re… Almost a little sad, now. How awful of you.

“Sorry, uh… Don’t have a lot of people over. Or room in here.” You admit, as you motion to only the beanbag. It’s giant, sure, but it’s not a couch. “I could grab a chair from the nook, though, if you prefer.”

“No, no, this is fine! I really like it.” Ryan laughs a bit, taking a seat on one end of the beanbag, and you do the same. You flick on the television, and open up a streaming service. You both look through it, trying to decide what to watch, and finally decide on some documentary(courtesy of Ryan choosing it). You settle in, beginning to watch, and you’re just waiting for Adam to pop up at any moment. Nothing. You tap your finger on your arm. It’s quiet. A bit awkward. Ryan is fidgeting a bit, and so are you, and you suddenly wonder how this is going to go. He has the same idea, as he’s stealing glances at you occasionally.

Well. Fine, then. You didn’t invite Ryan over because he was a good conversationalist. You inch closer to him, and he does to you as well. His arm moves around your back, and you lean closer, gingerly resting your head on his shoulder. A few more minutes like that before he starts to rub his hand up and down your back. You play with the buttons on his top, undoing one deftly. He glances down at you, and you peer up at him, smiling somewhat shyly as he offers back a similar look. He’s the first to lean in, but you’re the first to meet him in a kiss. It begins chaste, even if both of your hands don’t remain so much, before it begins to progress further.

You sit up a bit more, slinging one leg between his own, stradling one of them now. You feel him lift his leg up a bit, and you can’t suppress the small groan that leaves your lips as you feel rub right up against your crotch. He gives a receptive groan and roll of his leg as you grind against him, bringing one hand to run through his hair, tugging on it. His palms slide down your back and sides, before one comes to grope your ass, and the other briefly fondles your breast, before he tugs on the hem of your shirt. You oblige, popping open another one for his own shirt, and he gets the message. You both briefly split from the kiss to remove your shirts, before diving back in with more fervor.

As you grind yourself on his leg, you allow one of your hands to travel down and palm him through his pants, able to feel how he’s straining already. For a moment, you both break the kiss for air, and he takes the time to tilt your head to the side, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbone as he works his hands on the back to unclasp your bra. You pant against him, head tilted, eyes half lidded, before you catch sight of something out of the corner of your eye. You gasp in shock just as your bra comes off, recoiling in fear as you see Adam standing off to the side. To your credit, he looks completely unimpressed, arms crossed, eyebrow raised as he watches the scene.

Ryan pauses, thinking you were startled by what he was doing. He looks flustered, gaze heavy with lust and confusion. “Sorry! I thought we were… Going to…” He begins, trailing off, and you look back at him, feeling flustered yourself.

“Yeah! Sorry, I thought… I saw something…” You begin to apologize, and you hear Adam blow a raspberry and give a thumbs down.

“C’mon, it was just gonna get good! Thought you wanted to fuck him, ‘tits. That’s why you invited him over, right?” He sneers, walking over now, looming over the two of you. You can’t help but to stare up at him, eyes wide, body incredibly warm in both arousal and embarrassment. It looks strange to Ryan, obviously, and he draws you back to him with a hand slowly creeping up your back. “Are… Are you okay?” He asks, quietly, tentatively.

“Y-Yes, I’m…” You taper off, unsure what to say. Adam shifts to stand behind you, putting a hand on your neck, slowly pushing your body closer to Ryan.

“Well, go on. Fuck him. You wanted to, right?” He hisses out, and you find yourself trembling. Why is… Why is Adam doing this? Why is he egging you on, when it sounds like he doesn’t actually want you to be doing this? Is this a test? Your trembling doesn’t stop, and that’s finally when Ryan grimaces a bit, pushing you back. Adam doesn’t force you forward anymore, letting you go as your date sits up.

“We don’t have to do this. It’s fine. It’s, um… A bit late, anyways, I should probably… Head out…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes his hands away from you. You let out a breath, giving a small, spaced out nod as you shakily roll to the side. Ryan grabs his shirt, deftly slipping it back on and buttoning it up. All you can do is sit and watch, feeling Adam squinting at you out of the corner of your eye. Ryan gets to his feet, finally, clearing his throat once more as he looks down at you. “It was… Nice to meet you.” He winces, rubbing the back of his neck, and all you can do is purse your lips and nod in response. He takes that as his queue to leave, awkwardly turning and shuffling out to the door.

“...Drive safe.” You balk, weakly, after him as the door shuts behind him. You’re still topless, arms covering your breasts, and once he’s gone, you hear Adam sigh out.

“FINALLY. Holy shit he was soooo boring. Can’t believe you were trying to prove some point by inviting him over.” The angel huffs, plopping down next to you on the beanbag as you grab the remote. You just sit there, frozen, unsure of what to do or say. You feel as awkward as Ryan felt earlier as he begins to flip through channels. “I mean, not like that guy would’ve actually gotten you off I bet.” He laughs, flaring a wing out to slap you with it. You sputter lightly, shifting forward as you feel the soft feathers against your back. “Be a babe and get me some chips, will ya?” Numbly, you just stand up, still trying to process everything that’s happening. You still feel flustered. The inside of your underwear are slick, a true testament to how long it’s been since you’ve fooled around with someone else.

For a moment, you just stare down at Adam. He glances up at you, looking bored, and then irritated. He opens his mouth to say something, but you finally find your voice. “What– Why– Why did you do that? Interrupt us? Do you know how… How inappropriate that was!?” Now that the shock and embarrassment is wearing off, you finally feel anger broiling to the surface. You wave your hands about somewhat for emphasis. “You could have just interfered with something big for me! What if him and I were like… Fate, or something!? He could’ve been the love of my life! I’ll never know what could’ve been, now, because you popped up and were fucking weird!” You’re flushed again, baring your teeth in anger. What infuriates you even more is that, even though Adam’s eyes don’t have pupils, you can very clearly tell that he’s staring at your boobs. Right, you’re still shirtless.

“Adam!!” You shriek in frustration, grabbing your shirt and throwing it at his face. It’s his turn to sputter out, grabbing the garment as you snatch up your bra and begin to storm away, starting to put it back on.

“Chill, bitch, I’m listening! Why the fuck you getting so uppity for?” He snaps out, and you hear him get up too. Well, you hear the beanbag shift slightly, and you don’t even hear him as he seems to glide effortlessly over to you, grabbing your arm and flipping you around to face him. At this point, your bra is back on, but his eyes are actually on your face this time. “I literally helped you!”

“Helped me!?” You blanch, incredulous at his claim. “How the fuck did cockblocking me help me!? Everything was consensual!” He just sneers at this, poking a finger into your chest.

“Because you didn’t actually want it. You were just trying to prove a point, weren’t you?” He snips back, and your mouth opens. Goddammit, he’s right… Partially. You had just done it as a ‘fuck you’ to him, with how rude and openly he was complaining about Ryan, but… He was also hot, and it was just a casual fling. What was so bad about that? “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that walking snooze-fest actually was a turn on for you.” He scoffs, and you just shut your mouth. You feel your cheeks burning, and look away, feeling too embarrassed to have this discussion.

“W-We’re not talking about this!” You finally stutter out, and he makes an incredulous noise as you turn to leave. He just grips your arm again, though, pulling you back towards him.

“No. Fucking. Chance.” He grits his teeth, hand reaching down to pop the button on your jeans. You squeal out, trying to writhe out of his grasp, but stop with a gasp as you feel his fingers push right past your panties and slide between your folds. A squeak leaves you, thankfully, instead of a moan that wants to come out. You’re still aching, afterall, even after getting upset with this whole ordeal. Adam brings his fingers out, looking over the slick that thickly covers his gloves, and a sneer appears on his face. “Un-fucking-believable that guy got you this worked up.” He snips, glaring at you and your flustered features. That sneer quickly winds into a smirk, though, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth.

“Don’t–” You try to take control, but can only bite your lip as you watch his golden tongue poke out and drag the two digits covered in your slick down it, before he sucks on them. “Oh my God!” You whine, finally pulling yourself free as you turn away, hands covering your face.

“Good girls don’t go to Heaven when they use the Father’s name in vain.” His hands are on your shoulders, his head craning near your neck. You feel his breath hot on you, and a shudder runs down your spine as you try to suppress whatever primal urge is inside of you that wants you to turn around and beg Adam to shove his fingers back down your pants again.

“I– I’m going to bed– Alone!” You finally manage to work out of your mouth, shrugging away from him, rubbing your arms as you try to stem the heat flaring through your body. He doesn’t give follow, and just scoffs once more.

“Really? You just gonna go to sleep blueballed?” You hear him huff. “Dickmaster right here, remember!”

“Fuck you!” You snarl back, the events of tonight playing out in your mind once more, making you terse and aggravated. You turn around once you’re in your room, ready to slam the door, and he’s just standing there, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

“Yeah, sure, I’m right here.” He grins, and you snarl in frustration, slamming the door. “Your loss, bitch! Have fun with your hand!” You hear him bark, and you can only assume he’s gone, as you don’t hear anything else outside your room. With a groan, you walk over to your bed, flopping onto it. You rub your hands across your face, grimacing as you see some of your makeup come off in the process. Tonight had been a clusterfuck, to say the least, and you feel on the verge of tears from it all. Part of you wants to cry, but you do your best to suppress the urge, biting the inside of your cheek.

“‘Have fun with your hand’.” You find yourself scoffing out his words, glaring up at the ceiling, before you promptly flick it off. “Fuck you, pervy asshole. Bet you would like me to do that so you can watch like some fucking weirdo.” You don’t even know if he can hear you, but you can only hope so. Or maybe not. How desperate are you to get a jab in, after all? You just groan out, getting up. You clean the makeup off your face, and change into night clothes as you crawl back into bed. The first thing you do is go to the app you met Ryan on and unmatch, because you are far too embarrassed about this situation to want to see him again.

…And, Adam was right. Ryan was really boring.

#reader insert #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #you #hazbin hotel adam #reader

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