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#i had one tag about my tag system and then went into this:
faust-the-enjoyer · 2 days
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Anonymous asked: Adoptive!dad!simon x adopted!kid!reader but it starts off with the reader being a foster kid whos lowkey kinda scared of simon
You Remember the First Time You Called Him "Dad"
Tags/warnings: gn!reader, kid!reader (mid teens), foster!father!simon turned into adoptive!dad!simon, sfw, familial, mentions of the military, mentions of therapy, mentions of mental health issues, implicit mentions of child murder, uk foster care system, a bit of angst, fluff, crying.
A/n: aaaaaaaah i loooved writing this!!! I did my research to write it too!!! Hope you like it anon!
-Divider by (@/saradika-graphics)!
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After being discharged from the military due to his mental health, Simon got monthly compensation from the military, and started working as a butcher again, all while going to therapy at the same time. Since he's pretty much done from working as a soldier, he had to find other things to do, he had to learn to help himself, and find purpose, find a new life for himself.
After going to therapy for a good couple of months and being on medication, he found that his life became...repetitive and dull in a way. It's the same thing over and over again, work, therapy, and the times that he went out with his old teammates didn't change things that much, considering they were on missions on many occasions, dating didn't help either, that didn't work out, he's not one for that.
He'd talk about it with his therapist, he'd talk about with his friends, and he'd get a lot of advises, but none that appealed to him. He didn't know what to do, but sometimes, he'd see one of his co-workers at the butchery with his kid sometimes, seeing couples and single parents out with their own as well, and it all just reminded him of his nephew, that poor kid, Joseph. Although it opens up old wounds that never healed, he did think it over, and even asked his therapist for advice over it, and he finally decided to foster a kid after months of thinking about it and considering it.
He wanted to do a short-fostering plan, just in case it doesn't work out for whatever reason. The application took a couple of months in order for him to become a foster parent, but he didn't mind, he worked on his mental health at the time, and even cleaned out a room in his apartment for the kid that'll be there. After making an inquiry at a local foster care agency, and after a social worker visited him and the process took place, he was given some parenting training, and finally matched up with a kid to take care of, that is, you.
Your first meeting was with him and your two's social worker in a small restaurant, he was a big guy, piercing brown eyes, some scars here and there, and a black surgical mask that he took off when he sat down and started talking to you. He was just a bit scary, just a bit though.
After the social worker introduced you two, Simon took the initiative and started talking to you. "R/N, you can just call me Simon, alright?", he asked in a calm tone, and you nodded, it made sense since you two just met, and he really just wants you to be comfortable. After you two chatted a little and he paid for the meal, the social worker walked you two to his car, and talked to you, you were more than willing to stay with him if that meant some stability in your life, even if he was a little scary, so you agreed to stay with him, and he agreed to foster you, and you said your goodbyes to the social worker.
You didn't want to sit in the front passenger seat, this was all too new to you, and Simon didn't make it any better either, all broody and quiet, with that somewhat harsh look on his face, though he doesn't mean to seem like this at all, he really just wants you to feel safe around him, so he lets you get into the backseat and sees you put your little bag of belongings on the seat next to you, "Put your seatbelt on R/N.", and that you do. Five minutes into the drive and he starts talking.
"So, your school's pretty close to where we will, and to be honest with you kid, I'd prefer to drive you every day there, but tell me, what do you prefer?", he asks, eyes on the road, he'd prefer to drive you because it's safer, and he honestly hopes you just choose that, "...I...ok, um, I don't wanna take the bus, so...", you trail off, you can't even talk about what you want, let alone address him by his first name. He lets out a sigh of relief, "Car it is then.". The rest of the drive is filled with him questioning you on the meals you like, and inquiring you about your hobbies.
As the days passed, you two slowly warmed up to each other, and his kindness would show; in the first couple of days of you settling in, he took you shopping, giving you a certain amount of money and telling to buy whatever clothes you needed, he also encouraged you to buy that plushie you had your eye on but didn't openly say you wanted because you're "too old" for it. He'd ask you to cook dinner with him as way as to spend time with you, letting you chop all the vegetables with your not-too sharp knife, and letting you add them and the spices into the pot.
Hell, it would even extend to other things as well, he wouldn't hug you unless you gave him the green light, nor would he enter your room without knocking or asking for your permission first. And in the first week of picking you up from school, he asked if you if anyone was bothering you, and if you made or already have any friends, if you needed any school supplies, or if you wanted a packed lunch. On the first weekend you stayed at his apartment, he ended asking Johnny to borrow that old gaming set he doesn't use anymore just so you (and him) can play on it.
But you were still scared a little, this new environment was too comfortable, too quiet, your mind kept telling you that something was wrong, when you knew there wasn't. Week by week, your fear would slowly melt away, though it was quite slow, yet the social worker was quite delighted during the check-ups that happened.
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One night after brushing your teeth and getting into bed, it started raining, that was fine, relaxing even, until you were deeply asleep and got frighteningly woken up by the loud thunder, heart throbbing, body shaky, you needed water, you needed to calm down. You went into the kitchen, heavy breathing echoing throughout the room, you were so shaken up that you accidentally broke the glass of water you were trying to get out of the cabinet, shattering the glass all over the floor, and prompting Simon to wake up and run to the kitchen, only to find you shaking above the broken glass and breathing heavily, you looked like you were on the verge of tears from how overwhelmed you felt.
He carefully walked up to you quickly, "R/N? You alright? Did you step on the glass?", you look up at him, and the waterworks are on, he can't say anything to you in this state and he knows it, so all he does is usher you into a tight hug. "Shh...shh...it's alright, you're not hurt, you're fine kid...", after calming you down, he sits you on the couch and hands you a cup of water, covering you with a blanket and patting your head, "You can tell me what happened, I won't be mad, I promise.", he sighs, he doesn't know what happened, but he wants you to feel safe in this moment and just breath.
You drink from your cup and set it on the coffee table, breathing in and out, "I was just sleeping, but the thunder woke me up and I just...", "You got scared kid?", you nod, eyes still tired from having your sleep interrupted in such a horrifying manner. It's still thundering loudly outside. He sighs, "Alright, tell you what, since you don't have any school tomorrow, how 'bout you sleep on the couch, and I sit near you, yeah? How does that sound?", you think it over, at least he'll be there if you wake up scared again, "Ok.", he gets up and sits on the armchair next to the couch, letting you lay there and get comfy with the blanket and couch pillow. As you slowly close and rest your eyes, you suddenly open them wide, "Wait...you'll sleep on the chair?", "Yeah, what, you've never done that before?", he lets out a small chuckle, you smile a little and put your head back onto the pillow. After you fell asleep, he got up and quietly cleaned up the broken glass in the kitchen, then returned and sat back down, slowly falling asleep too.
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As the months passed, you fell into the routine that you two had, it was a calm one, a comforting one that made your worries disappear. He tried his best to be a father to you, a parental figure to you. He'd pat away any creases in your school uniform, make you lunch boxes, and openly told you to rant to him about school and your friends, about what you wanted to do and be in the future. He wanted to know more about you, and if you ever had any issues, you knew to come to him for help, and you did. He never shamed you for it, never made fun of you, he always helped you out, even if your problem seemed "trivial".
He wanted to know what you liked to do, where you liked to eat. On some weekends after you'd do your homework, he'd take you to a small amusement park then to try a new restaurant, and once he even let you have that sundae you've always wanted to try. On some weekdays, he'd help you with your homework after dinner, telling you how proud he was of you, and after, you'd help him with the dishes. He gave you a monthly allowance ever since you started living with him, letting you buy whatever you wanted (within reason), and you wanted to help him with the house, so you started doing some chores, it was perfect, cozy, loving, what you've both wanted. What he offered and gave you was what every child deserves and should have, you both know that, but neither of you ever had that.
You found someone you can lovingly call your parent, and he found a kid he could proudly say was his. It's been a good year since he fostered you, and now he's sat on your bed, talking to you, "R/N, I...would you like me to adopt you? It's possible you know, just some paperwork, I've just...been thinking it over.", your eyes glimmer with joy and content, and a smile is painted on your lips, "Yes!". A man of his word, after discussing it with the social worker and getting the paperwork done, he ended up adopting you out of the foster care system, now having you as his child, permanently. You were so happy, so so so happy.
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A couple of days after the adoption process was done, you sat next to him on the couch as he was reading the newspaper. "Simon.", "Hm?", "Can I call you "dad"?", his eyes widen a little, and he has to hold back some of his emotions, or else he'll cry in front of you, "Yeah, yeah can call me "dad" if you want to kid.", he lets out a small chuckle, ruffling your hair. You laugh, "Thanks dad.", it's a much more comfortable term than his first name, one that suits him.
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Gaz: So how's everything with the kid?
Simon: Dead good, they're happy.
Gaz: I told you you'd be a good father, you didn't need to worry so much man.
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He sets his phone down and looks at you studying for your exams in the living room, a small content smile on his face. He's glad that he can start anew, and he's glad that he's able to give you what he never had; stability, and a loving parent.
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Having these soup talks posts is like starting to say one thing getting distracted and then going into deep grief and now I have to rewrite the actual post part of this. These feel like headings for the actual post
#i had one tag about my tag system and then went into this:#also very miserable being so much less open than I usually am since my entire friend group has my url#strong believer of if ur a native tumblr user it’s fine we can be friends but if u just wanna find me bc it’s funny it’s genuinely upsetting#lulu u r here as an honored guest welcome native user#i miss talking to you guys a lot#this was the only place I could actually voice my thoughts but </3#I don’t know there’s not even really a point in making a different blog bc my wishes aren’t gonna be respected#like. i have said all throughout the years do not look for me. i will be very upset by this#i laugh when I’m uncomfortable so apparently when everyone was looking for me and I was laughing that was considered permission#i am friends with my friends but I am not as open with them as I am here#nor do I wish to be. I’ve always been huge on privacy since it was neglected my entire life#so hi gamers. if you’re reading this know that I am upset I was upset the entire time said so and you’re still here#I’ve told you for years I didn’t want you here and this was the only space I had#and yeah I make jokes about it but only bc there isn’t a single other thing I can do other than delete the thing I care about the most#and I know for the most part y’all had your fun you found me looked around at what I do#one of you promised you wouldn’t come back I believe that. one of you quite frankly I’m surprised you don’t have an account but either way#i don’t think you’ll be around again unless I directly send you a post off my blog#I’m fine with that. quite frankly it might make my life a little easier#but the one with an account made just to find me and get around me being unsearchable?? idk that I’m gonna just get over that anytime soon#especially being like oooh look but not at my url bc you’ll block me and I want the option to look at ur blog#in the moment I didn’t think I cared that much but apparently I do! a lot! i just wanted to be left alone#and really what can I say? hey that really hurts my trust and the more I think about it the more detrimental it is?#i can’t just send a text out of the blue that’s like hey I am upset about this#and I mean. I’m posting on a public account. i always ran this risk if my wishes were disrespected. i just didn’t think they would be#and it’s stupid to be crying over this but when I’m always so stressed out about keeping up multiple different facets of personality this#was the one place I didn’t have to do that and now I do#not to be dramatic but it’s like losing the only piece of myself I loved#soup talks
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runawaymun · 15 days
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#sorry let me rant real quick in the tags#cw personal#once again hitting an insurance pothole bc the psych says she accepts my OHP plan HOWEVER the therapy group she is contacted with says#THEY don't#they only accept the insurance if it's through my employer but NOT through the government??????????????#so there's still some kind of payment???#anyway I want to scream why is this so complicated#like will she take my insurance or not who's right here#anyway called her back directly and went to voicemail so now I've done all I can for now#why the hell is this so hard man#the person on the phone didn't know really how to explain#once again no one knows what they're talking about#like can y'all not communicate and figure this out?#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#i need to get an ADHD eval before my next PCP appointment in june so that they will continue giving me my meds#and the psychiatry through the hospital has a limited number of visits that insurance will cover#*contracted#not retyping all of that#and once again the only reason this is so stressful is because the psychiatry group at the hospital fumbled the communication ball last tim#and the psychiatrist I was with never put the ADHD on the chart#and now somehow it's MY responsibility to fix that>#UGH#like I am grateful to have some kind of coverage but holy shit is the US healthcare system in shambles#the bureaucracy is INSANE#i had to just sit down and put my head in my hands for a second#and then go 'right okay nothing i can do about that rn moving on'#uGH#literally said 'what the FUCK' out loud a couple times#like not on the phone after I hung up obvs
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beeduoo · 1 day
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originnssssss who remembers origins i Loved origins
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Lowkey i ate with rhis actually no i didn't i ate wirh rhat ENDER EYE Why is it so rendered Hello
IGNORW RHEIR UGLY UGLY DESIGNS This was before they switched to their iconic Skins past e didn't know......
#loosely based off of this old thing it's under the Cut#origins smp#beeduo#beeduo fanart#idk what other tags to put i cant put C because this isn't C this is O..... but like do people even check those tags idk#actually no im scared i heard theres been like three failed origins revivals i dont want to interfere with their character ecosystem i was#only there for the first one😅#i rewatched some origins streams a little while ago oh my god theyre SO FUNNY#DUDE DOES ANUONE REMMEBER THAT ONE STREAM I COUDLNT FIND RHIS ONE STREAM#IR EAS LIKE THE ONE WHERE TUBBO WAS SINGING SUGAR BY MAROON FIVE thats all i remmeber ANF ALSO RNE can i call you senpaaiiii bit thay shit h#ad me CRYING in 2021 Please i swear this happened imnot crazy but also they might have been separate streams actuallu i dont rememebr its#been wayyyyyyy too long#BUT IT HAPPENED I PROMISE Sorry i've been gone for a while ive been very busy lots of Things going on went to Six flags then jad a surprise#bday party then i had to buy shoes for prom then Go to prom and also i do figure skating and am out like every day idknt have Time im sorry☹#had a crepe yesterday it was sooooo goood im like learning to drive too that shit is boring as hell my dad kept gettign 😑 bc i couldn't stop#yawning DRIVING IS SO BORING its not my fault😭😭😭😭#ok what else ohhhh. y god i locked in SO HARD for this physics essay u guys dont even knowim getting ONE HUNDRED on that trust i just really#wanted to share ok i love you bge#WAIT ACTUALLT SORRU IM LIKE REMMEBERJNG THE ORIGINS STREAMS K WAYCHED#RANBOO WAS SO FUCKING FUNNT IN THOSE STREAMS TOO LIKE I REMEMBER NIKI WANTED TO SEE THEIR BASE and tubbo was like ooh maybe we can put like#water down here for you niki we need a water system and ranwas like Do we though?I WAD WAYCHING THAT .LIKE DAMMMNNNNNN OM LIKE GIGGLING WRIT#ING THIS RIGHT NOW I CAN HEARTHE CLIP HE DID NOTTT WANT HER IJNTHEIR BASE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#I NEED TO FIDN THAT STREAM WHERE IRS LIKE TOMMY AND JACK A D FHEHRE LOKE TALKING ABOUT DUOS AND THEN JACK SAYS THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT I#VE EVER HEARD LKKE I LITERALLU HAD TK PAUSE. H PHONE AND BURST OUR LAUHJIMG MY JAW WAS ON THE FLOORRRRR DO U GUYS R EME ER WTF IM TLAKING AB#OUT IDK HOW TO FIND THESE STREAMS Oh my god u really Had to be there early 2021 that was liye the funniest era of mt life i wlild be#Tearing up from lauhjimg every day I MISS WAYCHING STREAMS LIVE CHAT WAS SO FUNNY I wishe it was archivedI WISH MORE STREAMERS KEPT CHAT ON#SCREEN i defiently understand why most didn't like Wyd when chats annouing ad hell but also Me 3 years later is interested in what the pub#lic had to say.... ok Now bye
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moregraceful · 4 months
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accidentally invented a new form of no bedtime called 11pm glass of emergency-c + 4pm latte + 8pm cup of black tea + 9pm cup of black tea
#the real question is can i go to church on less than 5 hours of sleep and still function lol#i unlocked my instagram bc church wouldn't stop tagging me to direct people to me for stuff but that meant i had to delete a bunch of pho#tos AND rewrite a bunch of captions for photos i didn't WANT to delete bc i was too mean to random sharks prospects#which is fine if it is u know the anonymity of tumblr but not public instagram where my church won't stop FULL NAMING AND TAGGING ME#''anonymity of tumblr'' i doxx myself on here like 80 times a day in front of more people than i went to college with#anyway my point is i was going through deleting all evidence of politics pens fandom and legal documents and i was like damn#my attitude towards my team SUCKS. i gotta be way less of a hater!!!#what did my prospects ever do wrong besides everything NOTHING. the system is BROKEN. i am sorry i will be so much nicer guys :(#also if u really want to be humbled. scrolling back to 2012 on your instagram and re-experiencing senior year of college. BAD#i've deleted i think everything that would reasonably get our nonprofit status pulled but what a horrific journey it was#two full hockey intermission periods of deleting shit plus another hour at home doing several more passes and then rewriting captions#so that some poor 21 year old prospect randomly searching their name doesn't see me full ass call their teammate cringe#their teammate IS cringe. but i love him. but the nuances are lost on instagram people don't understand these things they take everything#at face value#don't know why i just assigned shakir mukhamadullin they/them pronouns#i think i need to go lie in bed with a blanket over my head until i suffocate#this ALWAYS happens i get too hype about mackenzie blackwood and start listening to selena gomez and then it's like almost 3am and i'm just#fresno oilers.txt#oh and. a friend sent me screenshots of the girl she's been flirting with on a dating app and they are SOOOOO cute#i hope they make a good run of it i really do bc it was SO cute. living vicariously through episcopalian lesbians as one does#but then i was trying to figure out how to edit my dating app profile to dissuade chasers but still honeytrap guys who are tall enough#or athletic enough to pick the tangerines at the top of the tangerine tree. bc i couldn't reach this week#but there were still like god maybe 150 tangerines on the tree. i was like this could be feeding people but i'm TOO SHORT#and my life will be like this. FOREVER#icb the future of this garden is so psychologically burdensome that i'm having to build it into a dating app profile lol#well now that i'd treated this entire tag set as twitter for and hour and a half#time to go try to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and then wake up in [checks notes] four hours
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deus-ex-mona · 1 year
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why can’t this week just end alreadyyyyyyy
#rant about the week incomin’ in the tags bc ‘complaining’ is my unofficial middle name#this week has *not* been my week so far and it’s only wednesday morning#my horrible week commenced on sunday night when i was unable to sleep bc my pillow was oriented wrong#thus i had a grand total of 1 hour of sleep which was not very poggers tbh. so i tried to sleep on the train but…#the guy next to me??? kept swaying to lean on my shoulder??? so i hunched over to avoid physical contact but he just landed on my back??#so that sucked balls. i kept having to wake up to push him away with my bag and then trying to go back to sleep.#but then!!! just as i fell asleep after one such instance!!! the guy’s phone alarm went off????? like?? why???? why would you set an alarm??#we’re on a friggin train mannnnn!!!!! why did you have to set an alarm?????????????#and ofc when the dude finally alighted (and i was asleep) he just *had* to jab me in the side with his elbow when he got up. ಠ_ಠ#so that’s how i knew the rest of the week was gonna be just ✨peachy✨#anyways manning 2 workstations (+ 1 bonus ‘mini’ workstation) on 1h of sleep isn’t very fun. esp if you’re incompetent af like me#and ofc there just had to be problems too. like the printers couldn’t print (and the systems crashed everytime i tried to print something)#and this sample running software kept closing itself in the middle of running samples so that was a pain to deal with#and tuesday (yesterday) wasn’t much better. in fact it was ✨worse✨. none of the 2 workstations could get started till like 10am and aaaaaa—#to make matters worse i had stubbed my toe so badly in the morning that my skin tore. so walking was ✨much pain✨ as well :(#and ofc yesterday had to be the one day where i had to walk back and forth an unnecessarily high number of times >:( sadded#and ofc they *had* to have an hour-long meeting about something or other towards the end of the workday when i had yet to eat my lunch >:(#(fell asleep during the meeting though bc it was boring as balls whoops)#and i could only take a half-hour break after that >:((( i wanted my full hour dammitttttttt#and ofc it was raining when i left and ofc it took like 25 mins for me to hail a taxi on this booking app bc i didn’t want to take the train#and ofccccc i misheard the taxi driver when he arrived and he roasted my chinese speaking skills. and ofcccc we were caught in a traffic jam#(i had a really nice hour long nap in the cab though so thanks traffic jam)#and thus ended my terrible 2 past weekdays. i’m drained af and it’s *only* wednesday morning????!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i’m mentally looping anzu no uta (imascg) to cope. ‘nu-uh i don’t wanna work’ so true anzu#i just wanna sleeeeeeep and wake up this weekend or sth idk it’s too early in the year for this#it is suiyoubi my dudes#may spam self-rb my monster-length character image/gif posts later to cope. you have been warned
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Gotta love how a feud between two ancient civilizations can transcend space and time
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hazzabeeforlou · 1 year
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#hey guys I’m about to go to work but I’ve seen so many lovely tag comments on my harp covers#I saw one saying ‘how do you even end up in a position to be able to learn a harp!’#and I wanted to reiterate. the classical music world is incredibly steeped in classism and racism. it’s inherent#because most music is written by ethnic Europeans and stems from the origins of western music which is the Catholic Church#it was a major tool in colonialism and it’s adoption as a means to validity in a white supremecist system can be seen echoing in China’s#current fascination with western orchestral music. but they’re also subverting it by reimagining their own instruments in the orchestra#anyways that’s a rabbit trail but what I’m saying is#for some reason I asked to play the harp when I was three. my parents were working class and non musicians. my dad is Mexican. we used to#barter lessons for yard work and painting (thankfully my harp teacher was a wonderful woman who allowed that)#my dad took out a home equity loan to afford my first large harp#I got the one you see in the vids because a close friend of my teacher was dying of cancer and sold it at a loss to me#this is a field with SO many barriers#every single person I went to grad school with had money out their ears#I have a heap of student loans and currently no permanent harp job#I guess I’m saying. I wish access to instruments like mine was easier for everyone but it’s rare because it’s gatekept#so just keep that in mind. you could just have easily have been a harpist if the world were more equitable and fair#I’m always open to people reaching out and asking questions about the instrument and music in general#love u guys
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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Hi! Its the Anon re Mo and Zegras hanging out. So I got this from the interview of Mo on the spitting chiclets podcast (which...I really dont like spitting chiclets but I had to listen bc Mo). But if you want to listen to it, the interview (either podcast or youtube version) as a whole is like an hour and is incredibly interesting and the part re zegras is brief at 2 hours 1 min if you would like - Mo apparently chilled with the U18 USNDTP guys so it fits your story! Thanks again for your lovely thought spirals!
😪 literally just listened to the broadscast round table discussion on hockey media today lmao so my ire for sp*tting ch*clets is even more than normal! which is quite a lot! thank you for your service (✊😔 listening to That Podcast and sharing the important information so the rest of us may have content without suffering)
on a better note OH MY GOD i’m???? no words. how would they interact the dynamic this now gives the calder contention why did no one talk about this before 🤌🤏🫴🫰mo & z FRIENDS? frenemies?? is zegras mentioned by name?? which usntdp u18s were named or was it just mentioned as the entire (gestures towards amoeba in a FUCK OR DIE t-shirt) vague conglomerate Entity™️ that is the usntdp??
#me seeing you in my inbox again: HI BESTIE HOW ARE YOUUUUU#i’m not debating listening to it just for mo i’m not (mo reilly voice: willpower)#but i might google a transcript. or someone’s highlights post of the interview but i want the character information but i hate b*rstool 🤬#liv in the replies#i’m so. i’m so. ????????????????????????????? babe ur kids leave for one summer & you’re having empty nest syndrome#where did i put. hang on did i post it yet somewhere i had a moment about the couch poem i’ve got to find it i’m out here like i refuse#but also it just lives in my brain now the mold is in the tupperware folks & it’s not coming out hEY DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HOW JOE VELENO#IS CANADIAN AND SO IS JAMIE DRYSDALE HOLD ON LET ME GOOGLE SOMETHING#HAND OVER MY MOUTH SCREAMING FLAILING ALICE YOU’RE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE YOUR HOCKEY TEAMMATES WEBSITE IS THE 👌🧑‍🍳💋✨ BELOVED BEAUTIFUL PERFECT#S H R I E K I N G i. i typed in joseph veleno because i was like ‘official prospect right like they’d full name him’ & it went ‘ha that#doesn’t exist’ & i’m like oh no have i found the man that this system doesn’t even know?? but we’re not that niche ! joe isn’t !! & tHEN I#TYPE IN JOE & IT POPS UP & JOE&JAMIE PLAYED CANADA U20 ‘22 TOGETHER I CAN SPIN A NARRATIVE HERE SOMEHOW but i just about fell out my chair#i’m not retyping that tag but i mean 2020 which is the year z won gold & jamie was PISSED at him about it & at this point mo & joe had#already been playing together on the griffins & somehow?? z & mo saying hi after the draft running into each other at worlds OH MY GOD THE#FULFILLMENT OF THE NARRATIVE THAT’S THE EPILOGUE THEY HAVE THAT COUCH MOMENT & THEN A YEAR LATER EPILOGUE THEY’RE BOTH IN LOVE WITH BOYS ON#TEAM CANADA STANDING DOWN BY THE GLASS AT THEIR PRACTICE IN THEIR DIFFERENT COLORS JUST LIKE THE DRAFT mo in wings red z in anaheim black#but now mo in germany black z in usa rw&b somehow there’s something there about them reversed colors but idk yet & maybe it’s nothing more#than a nod a hello the gentle knowing of each other in companionable silence z looking up after joe shoots a puck at mo on the glass & z#says ‘that’s yours? your island?’ & mo says yeah & of course trevor hasn’t quite found his yet but there’s a comfort in knowing that someone#else has gone before you someone else made it through & maybe it’s just that jamie catches his eye here & dramatic irony we the reader know#the future here but of course trevor doesn’t mo’s smiling stupid big & z’s watching them skate around gets caught on number 6 (trevor’s no.9#& somewhere in my brain there’s a thing about reversed tarot cards/flip sides of a mirror/mo & z parallels more like tangent lines but#jamie/z sine waves collapsing idk it’s just brring up there we’ve got mo/z NARRATIVE FOILS OKAY) & of course what z actually says to mo#what he calls joe is a poignant callback to the couch island discussion which i have not written & thus cannot properly state bc. no context#love to fully go off the rails about something unrelated to literally anything & also does not make sense unless you’ve read the post#i’m talking about which i will reblog in one moment see above and/or below i don’t know chronology it’s a poem bUT OH IF I KEEP BABY MO & Z#AS HOCKEY PLAYERS I CAN HAVE DYLAN HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH THEM as the au pair when they’re twelve & do you think everything would be#different if they could’ve known when they were twelve that it was okay for hockey not to be everything to have someone sit them down & tell#them they are loved & good enough & i’m not saying this like it’s bad right now but also i’m thinking about that one post that talked about#how we do not love men & now i am projecting onto au pair dylan who maybe burned out of hockey but takes care of these kids now can take
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avatarofwar · 3 months
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idk if you remember getting that ask but i sent one about sekiro ages ago and i wanted to say i have started and played through a lot of game and i am enjoying it a lot. it is a very pretty game and the combat is fun but i also am so glad you talked about wolf as a character because i like the guy a lot :D so thanks for posting abt him !!!!
nice to see you're enjoying it! it's a fucking amazing game, not just combat-wise (not to say that I don't adore the combat, it's really good, the audio design is fucking incredible, it's really satisfying to master the combat and just feel yourself get better at it as you get further in the game), but also, just. the story and the characters are all really good (with the exception of owl, who I fucking despise, but he's still a really well written piece of shit)
and yeah wolf is super fucking good. his growth is So Fucking Good. I will admit I am biased towards liking him because he is like. designed to be a blorbo. but he's really good and I need to get him out of situations and into therapy. he needs it
also it is no problem talking about him, I am always glad to have an excuse to analyse him because I do that anyway, completely unprompted by anyone but my brain
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months
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closeness above all else - astarion ancunin
pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy. tags: pwp, breeding kink, darker themes, possessive behaviour, alcohol & drunkenness, unprotected sex, smut, pregnancy kink, wife kink, he just loves you so much, 3.4k words a/n: i did minimal research if astarion could even get someone pregnant, but don't think about it too hard, okay?
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Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy.
The vampire always wondered if he could sire children, while the logistics weren’t clear he enjoyed the fantasy. The idea of their fearless leader having a piece of him always with her. As if it wouldn't be your shadow, to make sure that you were always safe. And once you got too swollen with a child, then you two could settle down somewhere.
The thought made him aroused, but the rush was cut short when he saw you talking to the innkeeper. It made something else flood the man’ system, a spike in jealousy as he watched. And when you leaned over and nudged the man’s shoulder, the vampire saw red. He knew he’d have to act on his desires soon, he was growing weak without his feast of blood and your sweet body. Maybe it was time to leave his little surprise as well.
He came up beside you and grabbed the key from the innkeeper, “Shouldn’t you be tending to other guests, not bothering our dear leader?”
The innkeeper’s eyebrows knitted together. He looked around and saw no one else except for the pair in front of him. He gave your partner a strange look as Astarion turned away with you with keys in hand. The vampire gave one last look to the innkeeper almost like a threat to not come near you.  His hand was on your lower back, his fingertips were threatening to sneak under the bottom of your shirt.
There was no one who would get in his way. You were HIS. He’d make sure no one bothered you once he got you pregnant. You’d make such a wonderful mother to his child or maybe even children if he was lucky. A little human wife all to himself. The thought excited him. As you both walked to rejoin the group, he leaned over and kissed the top of your head lovingly.
Tonight was going to be an interesting night.
-
But that first meant having dinner and you had your fill. The alcohol brought red to your cheeks as you went for another glass which made Astarion take you by the wrists and sit you back down beside him. He said quietly, “Now, now. You know alcohol makes your blood taste sour.”
You were a mess of giggles and tried to get out of his gasp. But he just brushed his nose further up against your neck and he smiled to himself. He ended up with a bun to the face from a fellow party member to stop practically having sex with you at the tavern. The action made you laugh harder and cuddle yourself up in his arms.
  “Don’t be meeeeeean.” You said, “He’s trying to be nice. You know how rarely that happens!” You then dissolved into another mess of giggles.
He chuckled and had another sip. His hand was on your back as he held you close, “Next time we have to make sure she doesn’t get into the wine. She’s as red as a strawberry. Isn’t that right, darling?”
You peeked up at him and nodded. You held onto the front of his shirt. You looked so innocent. It made him smile more. He could feel tightness in his pants. He reached over and fed you a small piece of the meal you were all sharing, “I don’t need you to get sick on me now.” You nodded once more.
Astarion smiled, this was going to be easier than expected.
He took you back to the room you were sharing. It only made sense that you two would share, at some points you were practically attached at the hip. Plus if someone else slept in the room with you, Astarion would never shut up about it. Even though he didn’t need sleep the way most species did, he wanted to make sure his darling slept soundly.
You stumbled over yourself in the short walk back to the inn. He helped steady you and encouraged you to keep going with kisses. You giggled at jokes you made up in your head and tried not to lose your breath from laughing so hard.
 “Darling.” He said as he attempted to keep himself composed, “Do you want me to carry you?”
  “Nah!” You giggled, “I can get by on my own two feet.” And as soon as you said that you tripped over a rock on the cobblestone road and fell over. With his quick thinking, he grabbed you to prevent a face plant.
He sighed and picked you up bridal style. He looked in your eyes, “You need to watch where you’re going. I can’t have our fearless leader getting hurt because of a rock.”
You laughed, “Why are you being so nice, Astarion? Did you get swapped with someone else and didn’t tell anyone?”
He smiled and kissed your cheek, “No, no, I’m all me. I’m worried about my love, there was a lot of wine that you had. I worry someone would try to hurt you. There are many cruel men who would take advantage of you.”
You beamed at him, “You just want a taste, huh?”
  “Would you allow me?” He asked softly.
  “I mean, the bruises have healed on my neck. I wouldn’t mind having new ones.” You smiled and kissed him, not the cheek. You felt light headed and dizzy, you were thoroughly drunk. But you believed that your loving partner would take care of you.
  “Good girl.” He whispered and smiled when you burst into giggles again. He felt warm in a way, a rush of anticipated pleasure through his body as he got the door to your room open. He stepped inside and let the light of the town shine through. He lit the lights in the room and got you undressed.
  “It’s embarrassing when you see me naked.” You admitted as you covered your face.
He pulled his hands away from your face and gazed down at you. He smiled and you saw the glint of his fangs. “There’s no need to hide, my love. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. And I want you to burn me alive.” He leaned forward and grazed his fangs against your neck.
His hands made their way through every button, snap and strap on your body. He left you in nothing but the undergarments you wore. His hands were placed back on your hips as he sank his fangs into your neck. You moaned and gripped onto his shoulders. Your nails dug into the meat of them as he happily drank from his beloved.
The blood was a little sour from all the alcohol but he’d never say no to having his teeth on you. He knew it would leave an ugly mark in the morning. But that way fine, he’d say it added to your charm. He then held your chin so you didn’t move your head while he fed. He groaned against your skin, his cock twitched in his pants.
Eventually he pulled away when he decided to not drain you dry. He licked the wound to ensure that it would stop bleeding. He moved further away and looked over on you, with red painting his mouth and chin. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly. Your legs were practically wrapped around his waist. He was still dressed while you were almost nude.
He wiped his mouth on his wrist and gazed at you with those stunning red eyes. He smiled down at you and rubbed his clothed cock up and against you, “I can feel how aroused you are.”
  “Astarion.” You moaned.
  “I know my darling, I know how you feel about me. I see it every day. You look at me like I raise the sun every morning. Despite all that tough exterior, you need someone to protect you. And I’ve found that I’d be willing to do anything to keep such a precious gift safe.” By any means, he thought.
You laid there in the mess of pillows and blankets. You got your undergarments off to show off your curves to your loving partner. You felt his heated gaze on your body. You rubbed yourself up against him and he chuckled.
  “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. All this time on this earth and yet you are the most beautiful thing I’ve laid my eyes on.” He started to get undressed. He felt your drunk gaze on his body. Usually he’d do it slowly to show off. But he had a mission in mind.
Your figure was missing something. Not a sword or armor, but rather something softer. A nice slope to your belly with the promise of new life. He brushed a hand down your front and gave extra attention to your abdomen. You didn’t notice his intentions as the touch made you giggle. There still was a drunken throb in your head. It also didn’t help that your pulse was racing.
Astarion’s gaze remained on you as he got undressed. Soon he was bare as you were. His hands were on your breasts, his mouth was on your right nipple. His fangs carefully grazed the nub. You almost kicked out your legs from the sensation of it all. You yelped and felt a shiver down your spine.
However, he kept you pinned to the soft bed you shared. He was going to make sure you felt good, he read somewhere that if you made a woman orgasm multiple times she was more likely to get pregnant. And Astarion had to take all the advice he could get. His bare cock brushed up against your sweet pussy which made him shiver. Over a century on this earth and there was no feeling like his cock inside of you.
He massages your breasts further, it was almost a little painful. He moved to the other nipple and you moaned loudly into the night air. Your heart raced as you felt yourself drown in the pleasure of it all. You felt more sensitive with all the alcohol in your system. You seemed louder as well with the more he touched you. He rubbed hi cock up against your pussy, he knew you were getting hotter from the sensation of it all. He groaned against your chest as he continued to play with you.
  “Astarion.”
  “Good girl.”
He thought you were divine. He thought there was no one else quite like you. He moaned into your skin as he nipped at it. He left small bruises around your chest which only made you moan louder. He stimulated you further as he felt you try to fight against him. He knew he was making you feel good.
It wasn’t long before you felt the pleasurable tension become overwhelming. You held onto him tightly as he made you feel good from touching on your breasts. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy. You arched your back as much as you could with him on top of you and climaxed. A sharp moan left your lips and then your hips dropped back down on the bed with a ‘thud’.
Astarion thought he was going to finish as well from the sight of your pleasure. You were going to be such a sweet wife for him, and he couldn’t wait to drag every orgasm out of your sweet body.  He kissed your skin and mumbled, “I can’t wait to get you pregnant, Make you my wife.” But his voice was so quiet that you couldn’t hear him.
You relaxed against the bed and basked in the feeling of his hands all over you. When he touched your sex it felt like lightning through your body. It was an overstimulation but you loved the feeling. Your face felt hot, and your head was swimming.
  “Beautiful girl.” He praised me.
You rubbed your thighs together and he thought you were perfect. But even perfection could be improved on. He brushed you in the middle again, he wondered how the child would take after. He hoped they looked like you, except with their father’s fangs.It wouldn’t be easy to carry a vampire child, but he believed in you. You’d care for the being as well as being a wife for him.
It was a sick part of him, to trick you into becoming his bride. But he couldn’t contain himself. He moved back to being on top of you, he moved your legs to be around his waist. He brushed his cock up against your sweet pussy. You moaned and held onto the pillows under your head.
  “So beautiful.” He said.  “Astarion.”
Even the way you said his name was appealing. It sang to him like a siren song. It only made him want you more. His sick desire to keep you as his until the end of both your days. To be a wife and mother, to leave behind the age of adventure. To become domestic with him. To get away from the madness. It excited him and made his large cock twitch. He groaned as he continued to fondle you as you tighten your legs around his waist.
Soon he had enough of the foreplay and groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.
Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.
  “Good girl.”
  “Astarion, please. It feels so good.”
  “That’s what I like to hear. That you’re feeling so good for me. I like making you feel good, my darling. Keep it up, beloved.” He purred as he picked up the pace. His hands laid back on your hips as he got at the right angle that made you tense up with every heavy thrust.
The future with you looked bright. A nice home far away from anyone else, some privacy for the both of you and the growing family. The sight of your pregnant form aroused him, to know that you laid with him. That no other man could do what he did. You’d be his forever. And he promised in return to worship you.
He wanted to fuck you with your swollen belly. Worship it as he thrusted into you. The thought of that possibly happening made his stomach flip. He gripped onto the covers tighter and continued to thrust into his beloved. You made a beautiful ‘o’ with your lips as he hit all your sweet spots. The buzz in his body made his head spin. He groaned into your skin before he pulled away and gazed down at you.
  “Beautiful. So, beautiful. Gods, you are perfect.” He growled as he sank his teeth into your neck again. He lapped at more blood which only made you more light headed. You clung onto him and he happily feasted as he fucked you.
He knew what was best for you, you’d be happier being protected by him. To have a family with him. It was what would make you happy. You needed to TRUST, Astarion. He grunted against your neck as he finished his feast. His cock twitched inside of you. The sounds of sex filled the room and the old bed creaked against the wall.
Your neck and chest were covered in his bites, in his love. And soon your insides would be covered in a different kind of love. He panted wildly as he pulled away and looked down at you. You with the faint lights of the room, he knew your face was flushed from all the commotion.
  “Astarion.” You said.
  “I know. I know. You feel so tight. You are a dream to me, my darling. I’ve waited for this for a long time. To feel your body against mine. You’ve made me an addict to your body, I only want more and more of it as time goes on. You wouldn’t deny me your sweet love, right?”
  “No, no.’ You panted as you felt the pleasure surge in your body once more. You dug your nails into his shoulders as you laid there in a swirl of your own pleasure. You felt the pressure again in your gut and your body started to go stiff. You groaned wildly into the night air then buried your face into his neck. You felt his skin against yours.
He held onto you tightly and pushed as deep as he could inside of you. It was messy, both of you were running hot with blood on his face. You both felt intoxicated for different reasons. He started to kiss you, you felt your blood in your mouth as he passionately made out with you. His fangs grazed your bottom lip, not enough to make them bleed but enough to turn you on.
You looked disheveled with blood smeared on your lips, bites on your neck and a heat that radiated from your body. You held onto him and continued to kiss him. You clenched onto him and moaned into his mouth. The feeling erotic and you couldn’t keep it together for much longer. Your pussy tightened around his cock as he thrusted into you as fast as he could.
He pulled away from the kiss and gazed at you. He felt on the tip of orgasm. With another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and then he finished inside of you. At that moment you finished as well.
You laid limp on the bed as he finished inside of you. He shiver ran through his body, this could be it. He slowed down his pace until it was a full stop and held your face in his hands. You were out of your mind from all the intense factors. He smiled down at you. He kissed you once more.
  “Beautiful.” Then he pulled away and held onto your thighs before he thrusted his cock inside of you until he got erect again. He smiled, there was no harm in doing it again. He had to take extra measures to make sure that it all took. A drop would not spill.
-
  “Darling. I see he’s gotten bigger since the last time I measured you.” He smiled up at you as he pulled the measuring tape away from your swollen middle.
You placed your hand on your lower back and rubbed it, “I don’t know how he could get any bigger.” You had given up on adventuring months ago, living off your treasure out in the wilderness.
He got up to his feet and rubbed your swollen belly. He smiled down at you. He’d never have to worry about you being unsafe ever again. You’d be safe here in the home you two lived in. And soon you’d have an addition to your little family. You rubbed the mound too and he leaned in for a soft kiss.
  “I was wondering.”
  “Yes, my love.”
  “Could you… Maybe, do what you did the other night to me? On my side.”
He smiled and placed the measuring tape down, “Of course, but let’s get you comfy in bed.” He placed a hand on your lower back. Things were different now, away from all the madness lived a former adventurer and her rouge husband. And soon their many children.
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leejihoonownsmyheart · 9 months
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Tattoo (M)
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Happy Cheol day- I’m still not actually here 🫡
Summary:
Your ridiculously hot coworker gets a new tattoo
Please god have mercy and do not let any of my coworkers find out I wrote this because it is based in reality but I swear to god I am not actually attracted to Devon he just has the coolest fucking tattoo and I don’t care if Seungcheol isn’t a weeb I needed him to be for two seconds
I’m not joking I should be fired for writing this. Not only because I literally based it off of my coworker but also because I fucking spelled out our rule system and abused the punishment system. If my coworkers read this? Got to the points part. Jesus christ I really would be fired.
Tags: Inked!Cheol, coworkers au, y/n refers to Cheol a lot as a loser but is he?, 7.9k
Warnings: Dubious consent, impact play, omg dacryphilia?? Did I finally join the ranks?, y/n is a brat (can’t relate), lots of swearing like all y/n does is swear, kinda dom!Cheol, hint of jealousy, no protection, creampie, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering
-
The first thing that you noticed about Choi Seungcheol Thursday at work was his fucking tattoo.
Jesus christ, you had been so strong when it came to him. Fighting every single day not to be into the fucking man.
If you were honest, really fucking honest, you would be able to say that you had been into Seungcheol since day one. Since he had walked up to you a little bit more comfortably than everyone else. Since you two had been introduced on the day of his orientation because Riley thought you two would get along.
She was right, how had she been right? How could she have possibly known simply from his interview that you two would get along? Because she had. You remembered her walking up to you after his interview, as one of the most attractive men you had ever seen was walking out the door, and she said, “You are going to love Choi Seungcheol if he starts working here.”
But regardless of that. Despite the fact that your fate had been drawn out for you like the pages of a coloring book you had remained in denial. Fighting not to find him attractive, because his silly little anime interest had left your coworker Jordan reminding you that you weren’t exactly his type one day when he had spent a straight hour with you giving you advice on working out and literally inviting you to the gym with him.
A Thursday was not the day that you should come into work and see the hints of a freshly drawn tattoo peeking out from underneath your coworker's shirt. And at 3:00pm stuck on register with said coworker you shouldn’t be taking sneaky glances at his arms, trying to see the tattoo better. And for goodness sake the first thirty minutes of your shift when you had wandered close enough to him that you could see the Aquaphor shining on his bicep was too fucking early to have these fucking feelings.
Being turned on at work was a literal fucking sin but that tattoo was the coolest fucking thing you had ever seen in your life.
“Have you noticed anything different about me?” Seungcheol asked, his eyebrows raising excitedly as the guest near him wandered away from the counter. You willed yourself to remain casual as a small smile crossed your lips.
“You got a new tattoo,” you said softly, playing right into his hands. He smiled, that characteristic one you were so used to seeing on his face when he was so excited about something that he just couldn’t keep it to himself. You loved the way he seemed to literally buzz with energy about things like this. Lived for the fact that he was so unashamed to love something so much.
“So, you did notice,” he said pleasantly. He turned his body a little to show you his arm, but most of the tattoo was hidden under the sleeve of his shirt. You could only see the edge of lightning bolts, but you suspected that the tattoo went further up his arm. Maybe onto his shoulder.
Fuck, you so desperately needed to see where that tattoo led.
You had seen Seungcheol shirtless before, and if you were completely honest? He literally looked like he was sculpted by a god. You knew that it was because he put a lot of work into his time at the gym, and that his dedication was unmatched but despite that it had still confused all of your coworkers.
Seungcheol looked so scrawny in his work uniform! Everyone had been surprised when Nicki hissed: “Have you seen the pictures of Seungcheol on his instagram?” And then you had seen the images of him and he looked like a literal adonis.
“Do you want to know how much it cost?” Seungcheol asked you and for once that smile was doing way too fucking much for you. You really, really needed to look away from him. You instead, squinted at the lines on his arm.
“Hmm.”
“Oh, you should guess,” Seungcheol said, running off of your curiosity. You pressed your lips together, mind going to the tattoo your friend had gotten on her arm. A star, some words, 75$.
“Uh...” Your mind was trying to gauge how long the tattoo was. It wasn’t very thick, the lines were admittedly detailed but couldn’t have been that much more expensive...
But then again it was long. All around the expanse of his arm.
“200,” you murmured. Seungcheol’s lips flitted up.
“Higher.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“300?”
“Higher.”
“No way,” you said with a laugh. “400?”
He only smiled harder. You sucked in a gasp, shaking your head.
“There’s no way it’s more than 400,” you insisted. He laughed too.
“500.”
“500,” you gasped. “That’s crazy.”
“It’s not my most expensive.” You felt like your eyes bulged at his words, and you didn’t even have to express your surprise. “One of mine was only 250, but the other one was 1000... That one I was overcharged for.”
Your mind was racing to account for this new information. 1000 dollars for a tattoo? You had forgotten just how expensive tattoos were.
Your attention strayed back to Seungcheol’s tattoo and you swallowed hard, still itching to see where it reached. You shook the thoughts out of your head when a: “Hi welcome in.” rang through the store signaling that a guest had walked in.
You tried to shake thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo out of your head by busying yourself with your work. Luckily for you, today Seungcheol was working basically in a completely different area than you so there wasn’t much to be distracted by.
Regardless, of that, when you went to the office to get a drink and Seungcheol was standing just outside of it cleaning something your attention caught Seungcheol’s tattoo again.
You noticed that there was a thicker part of the tattoo that you hadn’t noticed yet. Your eyes narrowed.
“Hey... What’s that?”
Seungcheol instantly knew what you were talking about. He hummed glancing at his arm as if he could see it himself, even though you knew it was out of his eyesight.
“That’s one of my other tattoo’s,” he replied. “It’s an anime tattoo. Can you guess what anime?”
Your mind ran through shows that you knew.
“Is it a mainstream one?” You asked him. “Old?”
Seungcheol hummed and nodded, his smile growing over his lips again.
“Is it Naruto?” You asked. You didn’t know why you thought that you could see the rest of the tattoo in your mind when you had never actually seen it, but you couldn’t help but think it was a signa.
“No,” he replied his voice riddled in amusement.
“Uhm, One Piece?”
Another shake of his head and you felt your face starting to warm as you tried to picture his tattoo in your mind. You ducked into the office, your mind still racing. You picked up your cup and when you turned down Seungcheol was standing just outside of the office so that you could see him. Your escape plan completely evaporating with only a few steps from him.
“Is it My Hero?”
“No,” Seungcheol said. “I’ll give you a hint. The person’s powers have to do with lightning.”
You thought for sure that had to be My Hero, but you also knew that Seungcheol had no reason to lie to you over that. You stared at Seungcheol, letting your confusion show on your face.
“You don’t know?” He asked, and to be fair he did sound genuinely surprised. You shook your head, pulling your cup closer to your chest. Honestly feeling a bit embarrassed (shy?) that you didn’t know the anime he was talking about.
“It’s Hunter x Hunter,” he explained.
You honestly did feel stupid. Hunter x Hunter had flicked in and out of your mind so fast it hadn’t really been a consideration.
“Oh,” you breathed.
“You’ve never seen Hunter x Hunter?”
A smile was painted over your lips and you shook your head quietly. You turned your body away from Seungcheol slightly so that you could drink your drink without feeling too self-conscious. But Seungcheol was persistent, he peaked around your body a little.
“I’m surprised. It’s after one of the characters. He has lightning powers.”
You gave Seungcheol another pressed smile, giving up on drinking your drink without him looking at you.
“It really is such a cool tattoo,” you said softly. You put your cup down and shot him one last smile before rushing back up to the front.
You were lucky that day really. He left early that day, and without his presence you were able to mostly move past thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo... Stupid attractive Seungcheol with his stupid perfect face and his biceps that you had never thought of before but now were the only thing on your mind-
Cold shower. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch yourself to thoughts of Seungcheol. Not your coworker Choi Seungcheol. Not your friend. Not the dorky guy from work that everyone loved. No, instead you opted for a very, very cold shower and an abnormally early bedtime.
You were naïve, really. Thinking that a ten o’clock bedtime would be enough to get you over your sudden infatuation with Seungcheol... (And that tattoo. That damned tattoo that made you see him as more than just some guy you worked with).
“Your total is 10.69...”
You weren’t an idiot. The man at the counter in front of you had been taking sneaky glances towards you the entire time that you two had been interacting. You knew that he was flirting with you... And to be completely honest you were very aware of the fact that you were flirting back.
You had no regrets really. He was attractive. Ridiculously so, and you couldn’t help but preen under the attention of someone so pretty.
“You’ve got to tell me what you’re doing after this,” the boy drawled. “The weather is supposed to be perfect.”
You hummed, eyes flickering up from his card as the machine beeped at him to pull it out.
“I don’t have any plans,” you replied, your voice light. Playing to the fact that you knew he liked you. Playing to the fact that you knew he wanted you to flirt back. If not for the purpose of actually asking you out at least for the purpose of the thrill.
“Someone as pretty as you?” He asked, and he leaned forward, body slightly bent over the counter. “All alone for the weekend? And I’m supposed to just let that slide?”
You could feel someone staring at you and you honestly just thought that it was a coworker who had just walked in for their shift. You ignored it.
“What would someone like you do?” You asked, eyebrow quirking up ever-so-slightly. “Surely, you have plans for the weekend.”
The gaze on your neck didn’t disappear, so you took a quick glance behind you.
Your eyes caught Seungcheol’s.
Your gaze widened a bit and you quickly turned your attention back to the person in front of you. You tried your best to regain your composure, but suddenly you felt guilty. Like you shouldn’t be talking to the person in front of you like this.
“Maybe I do,” he said. “Maybe you could too.”
You could feel Seungcheol’s presence over your shoulder, and you suddenly felt the urge to turn away from the guy in front of you.
“I...” You weren’t holey sure how to get out of this situation. “I hope you have a good day.”
That teasing smile was still on the strangers lips, he was clearly liking the act you were putting on. He nodded slightly.
“You too.”
The minute the man was out of earshot, you tried to busy yourself stocking something but you felt Seungcheol’s chest brush your elbow. You turned back over your shoulder to look at him, a shy smile flickering across your lips.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly. Your fingers pressed into the counter, and while Seungcheol had a smile on his face you could see something else hidden beneath his eyes.
“You know that guy?” His tone was a little bit more constricted than you were used to.
“I was just being friendly.”
Not entirely true, and you both knew it. Seungcheol hummed, and nodded his eyes darting to the other end of the room.
Suddenly, you remembered the little piece of art that Seungcheol had recently bestowed upon himself. Your own gaze flickered down to Seungcheol’s bicep, the trails of ink make your mouth run dry.
Fuck, yesterday’s shift hadn’t been a wild wet dream about your innocent coworker after all.
Working with Seungcheol had never been quiet really. You two, as aforementioned, had been bonded in a way since the day that you two first met. It wasn’t really anything serious. You weren’t his closest friend at work. You really hung out outside of work but at work he was always talking to you.
He would ask to be put on positions next to you so that he could tell you about his interests and ask you about yours. He was so silly in that way. Always went out of his way to say hi to you. Always treated you like you were besties, with his sometimes lingering gaze and that look in his eyes as if he constantly wanted to say more.
And now? You were the one who was pushing the boundaries of your friendship. You were the one staring too long. The one who was letting your interactions drag a little bit longer than maybe they should.
“Have you seen Seungcheol’s tattoo?” You asked on break as if it hadn’t been the topic of everyone ever since he got it. Your coworker broke out into a small smile.
“It’s amazing,” she mumbled, leaning forward on the table. “Have you seen the whole thing?”
Your eyes were wide.
“Have you?” You asked. She laughed slightly, shaking her head.
“No, but what I wouldn’t give...”
“How far do you think it reaches?” You asked, and your fingers traced subcnociously over where you thought that tattoo might stretch over his body. “Over his shoulder blade? Onto his clavicle?”
“Do you want to see?”
Your eyes grew wide at the sound of Seungcheol’s oh so distinct voice. You pressed your lips tightly together, and glanced over at the man who was suddenly in the break room. You gave him a thin smile as if you hadn’t been caught rather openly fascinating (was it enough to be lusting?) over the tattoo that you knew wasn’t supposed to be leaving you soaked.
“You’ll show?” Your coworker asked. Seungcheol glanced at you and then joined you at the table. He pulled out his phone, seeming to take his time as he scrolled through it trying to find what you only assumed was photographic evidence of the ink on his arm.
After a few seconds that felt like hours Seungcheol turned his phone to your coworker, the screen out of your view.
“Oh my god.” You didn’t want to seem too interested. You fought the urge to crain your neck and look. “Oh my god. You’re hiding all of that under your shirt?”
Seungcheol’s laugh only made you want to see it more. He was so cocky, thriving under the attention she was giving. She leaned forward, the tips of her fingers brushing the bottom of his phone as if to see the photo better.
“That was money well spent Seungie.”
Seungie.
You had known that she was closer to Seungcheol than you. You had always known that. The two of them practically hung out every week.
So... Why did that stupid nicknmae make you bite down on your tongue?
Seungie. It wasn’t even a good nickname. It was reminiscent of that of first year high schoolers thinking their week long fling was something that would turn into a lifelong marriage.
You forced a larger smile on your lips to hide the tight feeling of something you could only truly identify as jealousy down into the pit of your stomach. You were being stupid. You hoped to god that neither of them could sense the energy change from you.
The two continued to talk, and Seungcheol kept that photo just out of your line of sight. You were too stubborn to lean forward and look at it. Too stubborn to just admit how badly you wanted to see this stupid boy without a shirt on.
You just wanted to see that tattoo. Really, just the tattoo.
“You should come over,” Seungcheol suggested as he tucked his phone away, your coworker disappearing out of the break room door. You let your eyebrows raise at the question.
“Why?”
“I’ve been wanting you to watch something with me,” Seungcheol replied. “And I think you want something from me too.”
You really ought to fake it better. You both had the same little smile across your lips. The ones that you always used with one another.
It was such a simple invite. Innocent. But then again it was always innocent between you and Seungcheol, wasn’t it? You two held the sort of banter that you always loved to have with people. Pure chemistry. The ability to easily fire back at one another, never a dull moment in the conversation, always harboring interest for whatever you two were talking about.
You nodded because, of course you did.
Seungcheol’s apartment was different than you had imagined.
He was a geek, wasn’t he? Always bragging about his room and how amazing it was. His you should come see someday’s had always felt like empty invitations. But now you were here. It was different. Good different.
Seungcheol turned on a show that he had spoken to you about many times before. A show you had always assured him you would watch. A show you never actually did turn on.
The characters began to dance across the screen, and you let your gaze focus on it. You two were silent for a little. He was wandering around his room and you were pretending like you didn’t desperately need him to take his shirt off.
“You really haven’t seen this show,” Seungcheol said, and you let your attention turn to him. He was leaning against his dresser, watching you intently. You pretended like you two hadn’t had this conversation a million times before.
“I haven’t,” you agreed.
“So hard to believe,” he breathed. He shook his head slightly, his hair brushing the tips of his ears. You turned your attention back to the television. Seungcheol rummaged around for a little longer before finally he took a seat next to you on his bed.
He kept a distance between you two.
You risked a glance at him, your eyes going to his arm, to that stupid tattoo that was still hidden beneath his stupid shirt.
“Come here,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You scooted closer to him, your eyes focused on his tattoo. “You want to see it?”
You nodded, still not looking at him.
“If that’s okay.”
He breathed a laugh.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
You glanced at Seungcheol, eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t have any tattoos.”
He just hummed his response, and with one hand dragged his shirt off over his head.
Finally.
To your delight, the tattoo was equally just as amazing as you had imagined, and more amazing than you had imagined. The black bolts of lightning inched up his bicep, up onto his shoulder. One of the bolts spreading across his clavicle. You felt your mouth gape stupidly as you looked at him, show completely forgotten in the background.
“You can touch it if you want.”
You didn’t need prompting more. You reached forward, fingers lightly running across the lightning streaks. As you did, Seungcheol leaned forward, his hand placed directly between your thighs. You didn’t pay too much attention, but his hot breath on your neck was sending heat right through your core.
“I would have thought you would be disinterested in my tattoo by now,” Seungcheol whispered, as his spoke his fingers inched forward, his thumb begginning to rub small circles into your thigh.
You swallowed hard, eyes flickering to Seungcheol.
“Nu-uh,” you murmured. “I hadn’t gotten to see it yet.”
You felt yourself inching closer to Seungcheol, silently urging his hand forward. Seungcheol got the idea and pressed his thumb over your clit through your panties. You bit down on your lip to prevent a whine from leaving your lips, and instead focused back on his tattoo, running your fingers up the length of it to where it spread over his clavicle.
His fingers pushed against your underwear, so that it was just slightly pressed inside of you, and then he began to rub up and down between your folds.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he mumbled. “It really took me getting a tattoo to get your attention, huh? 500 dollars later and you were finally looking at me the way I wanted you to.”
The confession caught you off guard but as you went to question him his fingers were dipping beneath your underwear. “So wet,” he breathed, so quietly that you knew it wasn’t for you.
He pressed two of his fingers into you and this time you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left your lips. Seungcheol’s response was immediate, a quiet shushing that just made you need his touch anymore.
“It’s okay, y/n,” he said softly. “Are you going to be good for me?”
A whine bubbled up in your throat and you nodded sharply. He practically purred in your ear.
“Then just hold on, won’t you?” He asked softly. You nodded again, your fingers tightening a little around Seungcheol’s bicep. Normally, you weren’t one so quick to silence... Or obedience for that matter, but your skin was burning. You couldn’t imagine doing anything but listen to him in this moment.
Seungcheol’s fingers dipped deep inside of you, his fingers curling once he was buried to his knuckles. You couldn’t help the way that your head fell forward, your nose brushing the nape of his neck.
“You sound so pretty for me,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you only just then realize that this whole time you had been letting the tiniest whimpers leave your lips. You pressed your lips closed tightly, tilting your head so that your lips brushed his neck. “No, no.”
Seungcheol’s head tilted down, his lips brushing your forehead.
“You don’t get to hide your little moans from me,” he mumbled. He set a slow, lazy pace really, of fucking his fingers in and out of you. His thumb brushed your clit, and you bit down hard on your tongue, determined to not humiliate yourself even more.
You had come here to watch a show with him... To see his tattoo and now you were being fingered on his bed and to be completely honest the embarrassment was dulled by the pleasure running through your body.
No matter how deep Seungcheol drove his fingers into you, it didn’t feel like nearly enough. Seungcheol’s fingers stilled deep inside of you, and you ignored it, thinking that it was just a passing tease. Seconds passed. A minute.
“S-Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol hummed, his lips fluttering across your forehead. You tried not to look at him. You fought it in yourself not to wriggle your hips in desperation.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, your tone bordering upon begging. A small laugh vibrated through Seungcheol’s body. He pulled his fingers out of you and then pushed them back in. Surprisingly fast, surprisingly deep. You mewled, your head falling back a little.
Seungcheol’s head dipped down, and his lips brushed yours.
“How far are you going to let this go?” He asked you. “You gonna cum around my fingers?”
You pressed forward, chasing Seungcheol’s lips but he pulled away. Stupid smile spread on his lips. Stupid lips pressed to your cheek.
“I’m n-not gonna-” Your words faltered. Your body burning. You tilted your head up so that Seungcheol’s lips trailed down your cheek, across your jawline, and down to your neck. His lips pressed into a small kiss.
“You want a third?” Had his voice always been so hypnotic? You nodded, too eagerly. His lips brushed up and down your neck as you moved. “I need to hear your words. You’re so quiet when I’ve got my fingers fucking you open.”
“Fuck,” you whined, but you refused to give in.
“That’s not a very good word,” Seungcheol chastised. “What would they say if we were at work right now, hm?”
You were silent, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.
“Now, now,” his voice came, and his fingers stopped. “I asked you a question yeah? Aren’t you my superior? Why don’t you remind me of the rules.”
Oh god, that shouldn’t be so hot.
“It’s a point,” you whispered back. Seungcheol hummed again.
“And how many points before our first punishment?”
A shiver ran through your body.
“Six.”
“Let’s hope you don’t get to that point.”
Seungcheol pushed a third finger into you, and it sent a slight burn through your body. Seungcheol groaned as he pushed his fingers into you, no doubt feeling how tight you were squeezing him.
“Baby-” Oh god. “If you’re squeezing my fingers like that... I don’t really know that I’ll be able to fit.”
You swallowed and lifted your head, your gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. Your mouth was still closed tight. You were still trying so hard to be quiet. But your eyes were wide, your curiosity at his words were undeniable.
“Which do you want more?” He asked you softly. You refused to answer. “You really need to learn to use your words. Your pretty little cunt is sobbing for attention, but those eyes are begging me to take my clothes off.”
Your fingers splayed over Seungcheol’s bicep, your eyes going back to the dark lines etched over him.
“Clothes off,” you breathed.
“Good choice,” he purred.
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet so smoothly that it wasn’t like he was moving at all. You let out a vocal protest towards the loss of him, but it only made him laugh at your expense.
“There’s your voice,” he teased. You could see your wetness glistening on Seungcheol’s fingers as his fingers hooked on the waistband of his pants. He pulled them down, and then almost immediately after, his boxers were dropped to the ground.
You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the strangled moan that left your lips.
Never in your six months of working with Choi Seungcheol had you imagined that he would be fucking hung, and yet here you were looking at his (pardon the lack of imaginative description) monster energy drink sized cock in both girth and length.
You had never been with anyone with a cock as big as his... You had never seen a cock as big as his.
You hadn’t even known that a dick his size was even real.
“I’m getting a bit self-conscious,” Seungcheol said, his voice dragging you back to reality. Your face reddened but you didn’t move your hand from your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t seem to care, not really. He walked over to you, his fingers balling in your shirt. “What do you want?”
You knew what you wanted from Seungcheol now more than you ever had before.
“I want you,” you whispered back. Seungcheol’s eyes glinted.
“I like it went you use your words,” he slurred. You let your hands fall lax at your sides, giving Seungcheol the room to pull your shirt over your head. Given the opportunity Seungcheol was fast with his hands. Your shirt and bra were tossed aside to the floor in moments, and you were helping him wiggle you out of your underwear immediately after.
You were hoping that sense of urgency would continue, but just as soon as your clothes were off to the side, Seungcheol was trapping you between his arms, staring down at you with an expression on his face that made you wiggle. His eyes flitted down your body, and as he inspected you one of his hands came between your thighs. He tapped your inner thigh.
“Let me see,” he mumbled. You obediently let your legs spread, and Seungcheol took that as an opportunity to slide down your body, the pads of his hands pressed even further at your inner thighs and his gaze fully settled between your legs.
A whine was ripped from your body, and it made Seungcheol’s eyes flutter closed for a brief second. But then, his eyes were open again.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Seungcheol said, his breath making you clamp around absolutely fucking nothing like a common whore. “Is this all for me?”
His thumb grazed between the folds of your pussy, and he spread you out so that he could see you better.
“’s fucking embarrassing,” you murmured out. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow in your direction.
“Two points.”
You let your head fall back into the pillow.
“Embarrassing,” you reasserted.
“It’s not embarrassing,” Seungcheol denied. You felt something brush between your folds and you glanced down in time to see the tip of Seungcheol’s nose raising his tongue darting over you. Another groan from him. “It’s only natural to make such a mess when someone is touching you like this. And you like it when I touch you like this don’t you?”
You nodded, and he pressed a kiss to your core.
“Words.”
“Yes,” you cried out, desperate for more. This time you felt his laugh vibrating through your core. He was messy down there, like he was in his own little world. He lapped at your pussy like it was water, literally fucking animalistic. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed your legs wide open for him. Pressing so hard that you felt like you were going to break.
Seungcheol didn’t care for that. He didn’t seem worried at all that he would break you. Instead, he was lost between your thighs. A glance down at him in between your little moans and you could see that his face was slick with wetness.
“You’re making such a mess,” Seungcheol mumbled into you as if it was your fault that you were like this. “Getting yourself all over my face. All over my bed...”
You wiggled under his touch.
“It’s not fair,” you whined. “You get to touch me all you want... I w-want to touch you.”
“Is that so?”
He didn’t have any right to be so cocky.
“Want to taste your dick,” you admitted, your words betraying the fact that your thoughts were just about as reliable as Nick Carraway’s words in the Great Gatsby.
He did have the right to be so cocky. At this point you didn’t think you would be able to do anything before getting his cock pressed into you. Whether in your mouth, or your pussy? You didn’t care. Just needed his cock to be somewhere inside of you.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, annoyance vibrating through your body. Seungcheol hummed against you. Fucking bratty. You lowered your hand to his hair, tugging him off you sharply. He looked up at you, his eyes dark despite the general amusement riddled there. “Want to taste your dick.”
Seungcheol slapped your thigh, making you cry out in surprise and loosen your grip in his hair.
“Not very nice,” he chided. “You better put your money where your mouth is.”
Seungcheol pulled off of the bed, dragging you to the edge with him by a single hand on your thigh. When you got to the edge you pushed yourself off the bed, your knees hitting the ground.
You wrapped both of your hands around Seungcheol’s dick. You gave him an experimental tug, dragging your hands all the way up to the tip of his cock. You let your thumb flicker over his slit, teasing it until precum dampened it.
You pressed forward, your tongue darting to his tip, tasting the salty liquid.
Unlike you, Seungcheol wasn’t trying to stay quiet. A breathy moan escaped his lips, and he reached forward, both of his hands scooping your head in his hands. He pressed your head forward, slowly easing your mouth onto him.
You let your lips give way to girth of his dick as he pushed your head forward, your fingers tightening on his hips in anticipation.
“Your mouth is so warm,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You let your gaze raise up to Seungcheol, and he was peering down at you from under his pretty long lashes. You gagged a little around Seungcheol’s dick and his movements came to a hault. You struggled to catch your breath, grasp tightening again but not pushing him off.
Seungcheol’s fingers stroked your head until finally you caught your breath and you pressed yourself forward without any prompting from him and he got the idea quickly. He started to guide your mouth down on his dick, not pausing again until his cock was buried completely in your mouth.
You let a whine vibrate your whole body. Seungcheol smiled down at you, one of his hands sliding down your face to brush the corner of your stretched out lips.
“You look so pretty with my cock down your pretty little throat.”
The veiled praise went right to your already soaked core, but Seungcheol was so blissed out that he didn’t even care. He began to ease himself out of you, taking his fucking time, pulling you all the way to his tip and then pressing you all the way back down until your nose was pressed to his lower abdomen.   
Seungcheol started to press a faster pace. He wasn’t rough by any means, his grip on you was surprisingly gentle, and he was clearly in no rush at all. Not to cum, not to fuck you, not for anything. He was living in the moment, just grateful to have his dick down your throat.
Were you a whore for that making you so much wetter? The thought that he really was practically just using you. You were patient with him at first, but soon you weren’t able to keep that to yourself anymore. You whined and wiggled against him, patting his thigh until he released his grip on you.
“I can’t fucking wait anymore,” you bit out. Seungcheol raised an amused eyebrow.
“That’s three points,” he warned. Your eyes narrowed at him, which just made him laugh.
“Get on the bed if you need my cock that badly,” he murmured. “But I’m warning you. You’re sounding a little slutty when you talk like that.”
You didn’t care, a moan ripped from your mouth, and you scrambled up onto the bed. Seungcheol followed after you, a small push of the shoulder pressing you back onto his comforter. You wriggled underneath him, your eyes closing as you waited for him to move, to do something.
“Shit,” Seungcheol mumbled. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked at him. He was staring at you, a pained look in his eyes and a hand stroking his cock.
“Did you bring a condom?” He asked you. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you shook your head. Seungcheol gave you an apologetic smile. “I guess I’ll just have to make you cum a different way.”
A panicked feeling ripped through your body. You desperately didn’t want him to pull away. Not when he was so close to fucking you. You suddenly wrapped your legs around Seungcheol waist, pulling him closer to you, his tip dipping unintentionally into you.
You both let out matching moans.
“Need you to fuck me,” you mumbled, your face burning.
“Baby-” Seungcheol sounded wrecked. “I don’t have a condom.”
You were doing your best to avoid looking at Seungcheol.
“I don’t care.” Your voice was shaky, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could see the stupid cocky expression that had now appeared on his face.
“Yeah?” You were silent, but you tried to roll your hips down on Seungcheol to push him further into you. Seungcheol stilled you fast by digging his fingers into your hips- So deep that you were sure it was going to leave bruises.
“You want me to fuck you raw?”
You nodded, mouth still shut.
“I want to hear you say it,” Seungcheol pressed. You thought normally you would play against Seungcheol more. You thought maybe you would make him push you to say it more. But the tip of his cock still inside of you was making you so fucking desperate you really couldn’t hold back.
“I want you to fuck me raw.”
Seungcheol pushed fully into you without much more argument. You cried out at the thrust, wrapping your arms around Seungcheol’s neck, dragging him closer to you.
“You’re not doing very good baby,” he cooed. “Letting my pressure you into saying bad words? Begging someone to fuck you raw? So dirty... Shameless.”
He laughed against you but it was mixed in a loud moan.
“That’s another point. You’re at four.”
Before you could fight him back on it he began to slowly drag his cock out of you, pulling himself all the way out to the tip. You didn’t care about staying quiet anymore. You whined loudly
“Guess what baby?” Seungcheol whispered. Your hands slipped into his hair, fingers pulling at his strands.
“Close, fucking close,” you babbled, completely ignoring him. Seungcheol dipped his head, his lips brushing your ear.
“You hit six points.”
In seconds you were empty. Your eyes shot open and you pulled Seungcheol’s head up by his hair so that you could look him in the eyes. You must have looked fucked stupid under him. Your eyes wide and glazed over and your mouth gaping as you silently begged him to put his cock back inside of you. You two were quiet for a few seconds. Simply panting next to one another.
“Seungcheol fucking put-”
Seungcheol’s hand darted to your chin, and his fingers pressed into your cheek, forcing you to stop talking.
“What should your punishment be, hm?” He teased lightly. “Should I just get myself off and come all over you? Make you sit there covered in it?”
You tried to shake your head, but Seungcheol’s grip was tight- You were locked in one spot.
“Please,” you breathed. “Please Cheol. I need you to fuck me so badly. I need to come.”
Speaking with his fingers pressed into your cheeks was painful in a way that just spiraled down to your core, leaving you just that much more turned on and desperate for him to fuck you again.
“I could make you come,” he replied. His fingers darted down to your clit. He pressed down on you and began to rub your clit in firm circles. You threw your head back, shaking your head.
“No, no, no,” you protested. “Need to come with you inside of me.”
“But if I give you what you want then you’ll never learn,” Seungcheol teased.
“No!” You blurted, feeling pleasure coil through your body. You were fighting back against your own orgasm harder than you ever had before. “I’ll learn, I’ll learn.”
“No, you won’t,” he chided. “You had so many chances before punishment, and you didn’t learn then.”
You were co close. You didn’t even want to come at the moment and yet you were so fucking close.
Seungcheol pulled his fingers away from you and again you had your orgasm ripped away from you. Tears sprouted at the edge of your eyes and Seungcheol slapped your innerthigh.
“You’re going over my legs,” he mumbled. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, and dragged you over his legs. You whined and buried your face into the comforter.
“Fu-” Before you could get the whole word out Seungcheol’s hand came down hard on your ass. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body.
“Why don’t you count for me?” He asked. You whined, shaking your head. Seungcheol hummed. “Unless, you’re not into this?”
His tone turned to a lighter one. For once he wasn’t teasing you.
Fuck.
“O-One,” you murmured. Seungcheol hummed again, and his hand came down on you again. “Two.”
Seungcheol’s hand ran over the curve of your ass, and two of his fingers dipped into your pussy. At this angle there was a slight burn despite the fact that not long ago something much bigger had been inside of you.
He pulled his fingers out again and suddenly slapped your ass.
Your whole body jolted.
“Th-three.”
“See? Isn’t it more fun when you listen?” Seungcheol asked you. “You could have come by now. Could have come around my cock just the way that you wanted to but no you had to be bad and break the same rules that you have to enforce everyday at work.”
“We’re not at work,” you protested, and Seungcheol slapped your ass again. You gritted your teeth together. “F-Four.”
“So mouthy,” Seungcheol tutted. “But you’re almost done.”
“Almost done,” you repeated, mimicking his tone in a way that you knew was in no way accurate. Your tone high and your body wiggling underneath him. His fingers slipped into your pussy again, spreading lazily.
“Isn’t this what you always complain about to the other managers at work?” Seungcheol asked. “People who can’t do something as simple as follow the rules...?” A whimper ripped from your lips. “If I didn’t know any better I would say that you enjoy getting punished. You like me being in control for once.”
You shook your body out in frustration, lightly biting down on the back of your hand and screaming into it.
“You’re wrong-” Seungcheol hit your ass again. And you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep yourself from counting that hit. A hum of disapproval left Seungcheol’s mouth.
“If you don’t count you just get more,” he warned. As if to prove it his hand came down on you again. “And I’m not scared to turn your ass dark red. You look so fucking pretty over my knees like this.”
“F-Five and six,” you bit out suddenly, shaking your head desperately. “Please Cheol, I really, really need your cock.”
“No,” Seungcheol turned down. “You still have one more. That’s what you get for missing a count.”
More tears ran down your cheeks and you shook your head.
“I re-really need you,” you whined out. He hit you again. “Six.”
Seungcheol’s fingers threaded in your hair and he pulled you up. You dragged one of your legs over his legs. Seungcheol’s hands ran up your sides, and then he tightened his grip on your hips. He lifted you and then sunk you back down on his cock.
At this angle you literally felt like you were being split open on his cock, your whole body shook and you dropped your face into the crook of his neck.
“I-I-” You wanted to curse so badly. “Seung- Seungcheol.”
“I really hope that you don’t act out again,” Seungcheol mumbled. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to come on my cock.”
You moaned loudly into Seungcheol’s skin. He raised you up again by your hips and slammed you back down on his cock. Your hands darted to Seungcheol’s shoulders and your fingers dug into him.
“You’re just s-so b-big,” you managed to get out. One of his hands raised to your chin and he tilted your head up.
“Ride me,” he mumbled. You nodded, your eyes darting to his lips.
“Kiss me,” you replied.
Seungcheol’s lips pressed to yours and you began to ease yourself up on Seungcheol’s cock. The stimulation of his cock and the burn on your ass from getting punished was just making you that much weaker. You couldn’t help the way that you were literally crying against his lips.
His hand raised to your cheeks, and his thumb swiped the tears across your cheeks. He broke of the kiss. “You need it badly don’t you?” He whispered. “Need me to take over again?”
You let your forehead fall against his. You didn’t really want to admit it but before you could voice that Seungcheol’s free hand pressed to your clit.
“Be good,” he warned. You nodded quickly.
“Pl-Please,” you breathed. “I need you to take over.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hips and began to raise and drop you on his cock. It didn’t really matter how long Seungcheol fucked you like that really. You were coming undone under him after only a few drops. You pressed your lips forward so that Seungcheol was kissing you again as he fucked you hard. With each drop he was forcing his hips up deeper inside of you.
Your whole body shook against Seungcheol’s and you went limp in Seungcheol’s hands. He still forced his cock in and out of you through your orgasm but even as you were blissed out you knew what you needed.
“Ch-Cheol,” you whimpered. “N-Need your cum. Inside.”
Your voice was weak but his wasn’t much better.
“Y/n-”
“Please.”
He didn’t make you beg anymore. You cried out as you felt Seungcheol’s cum spurting deep into your already sensitive pussy. Your whole body burned against Seungcheol and you shook your head against him.
“Oh fu-” You caught yourself and quickly shut your mouth. He laughed, exhaustion thrumming through his body.
“I told you that you wouldn’t learn unless you were punished.”
Seungcheol pulled you off of him, letting you roll over onto his bed. You whined, and shoved your face back into his sheets.
“Cheol your stupid tattoo is so cool,” you groaned. He laughed.
“You know, I really like it when you call me that,” he said softly. You felt him fall next to you on the bed, his fingers lightly brushing against your back.
“Yeah? More than Seungie?”
You wanted to hit yourself.
“Are you jealous?” He asked you with a laugh. You rolled over, letting your fingers twitch against his.
“I’m not jealous,” you denied. He grabbed your hand and tugged you closer to his body.
“Yes, you are,” he asserted. You grumbled, but turned into him anyways, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face into his chest.
“No more than you are,” you retorted. “Can’t even chat with guests around you.”
Seungcheol hummed, but his lack of vocal disagreement just proved to you that you were right.
“What tattoo should I get next?” Seungcheol asked after a few minutes of silence. You looked up at him, pressing your lips together.
“Why are you asking me?” You murmured. His lips quirked up into a smile.
“So that I can drive you crazy wanting to see that one too.”
-
“Guess, what I heard.”
You looked up at your coworker, giving her a raised eyebrow, a bit annoyed that she was disrupting you while you were stocking but she didn’t seem to care really. She just leaned back on the counter.
“Seungcheol got another new tattoo.”
You looked back at what you were stocking, only so that she would not see the pained look on your face at the news. He had been mentioning that he really was going to get one. Every time he fucked you asking you where you thought the next one should be. Making you touch the places on his body that you wanted them to be. Teasing you with the fact that you were completely fucking obsessed with him.
“That’s...” Were you breathing easily? “Cool.”
“So cool,” she replied. “Everyone wants to see it but he’s refusing to show it to anyone yet, or even tell us what he got.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the news.
“Really?” You asked. “Why?”
“He said that his girlfriend gets to see it first.”
Girlfriend. You thought back over the last time you had seen Seungcheol. Two nights ago, his cock buried deep inside of you.
“I’m getting the new tattoo tomorrow,” he mumbled into your neck.
“I want to see it first.”
A laugh left his lips.
“Yeah? You think I’m yours or something?”
You hadn’t really meant your answer.
“Aren’t you?”
You pressed down the urge to smile, and instead rolled your eyes.
“What idiot would date stupid Choi Seungcheol?”
Your hand slipped and a bucket started to fall to the ground. Before you could do anything someone caught it and your eyes flickered up, gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. His voice dropped so quiet that you knew that no one but the two of you could hear it.
“An idiot whose ass is going to be red tonight.”
Your face blazed and excitement coiled through the pit of your stomach, but you hid it behind a coy smile.
“That’s going to be a point.”
You were just glad the next day no one asked you why you were walking funny.
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ellemj · 5 months
Text
Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 1
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: While the compound is undergoing a security system update, the team is moved into an apartment complex. You were initially set to room with Wanda, but Bucky makes you an offer that you don't even consider refusing.
Warnings: profanity, wet dream with unprotected sex and teasing, alcohol consumption, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: Okay, I'm super nervous about throwing something out here after Needs & Wants BUT we're doing this. It was now or never lmao. Don't forget, if you want to be notified when new parts are posted, you can add yourself to the tag list using this Google doc. It's a bit easier to add yourself vs. commenting to be tagged, because I don't always see comments before posting other parts. As usual, I have to give extra thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being such an encouraging friend and for continually saving my ass by telling me what warnings my fics need.
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You had been drinking. That’s the excuse you’re going with. You’d both been drinking. But is that really a valid excuse when one of you is a super soldier who’s completely unaffected by alcohol? You decide to blame Bucky Barnes. He should’ve been thinking straight. If he had been, you wouldn’t have ended up as roommates.
         As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you fight to quiet the thoughts rushing through your mind at warp-speed. You didn’t drink enough to be hungover but you’re definitely feeling the effects from the number of beers you had just a few hours ago. Your overthinking only intensifies the headache that’s currently pounding behind your eyes. Ibuprofen. You need ibuprofen. You can see that the sun hasn't come up yet, which means it’s still either very late or very early in the morning, so you try to be as quiet as possible. You don’t want to wake your new roommate. Of course, you wouldn’t have known since you've barely ever interacted with the man, but he doesn’t sleep much. When you stumble out into the hall, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black panties, you fail to notice the way Bucky’s door hangs ajar, signifying he's not in bed. You run your hand along the wall of the hallway, feeling your way to the kitchen so you won’t have to make your headache any worse by turning on a light.
         “Jesus, Bucky. What are you doing up?” You ask in a whisper, after being startled by the figure of the six-foot super soldier lurking in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweats and his dog tags, as he leans back against the edge of the countertop in near-darkness. As your eyes adjust, you let them linger over his defined chest and abs a little longer than you should have, and he notices your momentary ogling.
         “Why are you whispering?” He questions, stealing a look of his own. And why the fuck are you walking around without any pants on? His eyes trail down your body, taking in the vintage t-shirt that barely skims the tops of your thighs and your toned legs that are on full display. You’re rubbing your temples with the pads of the middle finger and thumb of your right hand, so you don’t notice his gaze. Fuck. If you’re going to share an apartment, he may have to set a ground rule about pants. Though, he didn’t initially take you for the type to prance around half-dressed, otherwise he might’ve proposed the rule before you ever went to bed.
         “What kind of beer did you give me last night?” The question rolls off of your tongue a little more accusatory than you intended as you take a few steps further into the kitchen and wave Bucky away from his place in front of the sink. He moves around the island and takes a seat on one of the barstools there, watching as you rise up on your tippy toes to pull open the medicine cabinet that sits high over the sink. Your t-shirt pulls up with the movement of your outstretched arm, dangerously close to revealing your ass to him. He clenches his jaw and looks down at the mug that’s gripped tightly between his two hands. He's dangerously close to breaking it into a hundred tiny pieces. Jesus. He’s definitely going to make wearing pants a ground rule, but he’ll wait until you’ve fully awoken to bring that up.
         “It was just beer.” He mutters, taking a sip of his hot tea. He’s not usually one to drink tea, but he’s had a particularly sleepless night and sometimes it helps. It might’ve helped, if you hadn’t waltzed in here half-dressed and woken up his entire lower half.
         “Beer from hell.” You grumble, retrieving the bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet and shaking two of the little pills out into the palm of your hand. You put the bottle back in its place before fixing yourself a glass of water and downing the medicine. Bucky’s eyes follow your every move, but you aren't paying attention to him. “Did I really move in here?” You have to ask. You know it’s true, you know that you and Vision switched rooms last night. But still, you need to hear it from someone else.
         “Yeah.” Bucky answers dryly. You don’t remember him being so short with you when he proposed the idea a few hours ago. You let out a deep sigh before taking another sip of water.
         “There’s probably no chance Vision will switch back with me, is there?” You also know the answer to that one, but still, you ask.
         “Throwing in the towel already?” Bucky taunts, raising an eyebrow at you. Is he really challenging you over this? He was the one that suggested you and Vision switch rooms, you merely agreed to it because there was no way you could survive practically being a part of a throuple in yours and Wanda’s apartment for the next three months.
         “No, I’m just wondering if this was a good idea.” You retort, narrowing your eyes at him. Why the fuck isn’t he wearing a shirt? If you had known that he walks around like that, you definitely wouldn’t have moved in. He’s always been frustratingly attractive, even with his signature frown and reclusive nature. You really weren’t thinking straight when you rolled your suitcase in here, set your duffel bag and moving boxes down in the second bedroom, and decided to call this your new home.
         “It was either this or you were going to have to knock on your door and ask Wanda and Vision to wrap it up so you could get some sleep. The choice was yours.”
         “I was…influenced.” You claim, setting your glass on the countertop and crossing your arms over your chest. Your t-shirt once again rides up a bit and this time you catch Bucky’s eyes flitting down to your thighs. It’s fleeting, but you notice it. You know you weren’t really influenced. Bucky’s right. He simply offered a solution to your problem, and you took him up on it.
------------------ 7 Hours Earlier -------------------
         It took Bucky less than ten minutes to unpack. He really only needs his clothes, a few weapons, and a decent book when he moves from one place to another. Vision, however, didn’t unpack a single thing. He quickly settled his suitcase and boxes into his bedroom before hurrying back out to the parking garage to help Wanda with her things. Bucky imagines he probably would’ve fared well with the ladies in the 40s, though the synthetic body and infinity stone might’ve scared a few off.
         Once Bucky’s alone in the new apartment, he takes his time walking around and checking it out. It’s more spacious than he expected. When Tony said he was moving everyone into an apartment complex for at least the next three months while the tower undergoes a hefty security system update, Bucky definitely didn’t picture being moved into a luxury complex. The floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the living room offer a stunning view of the city a couple of miles to the south, and the open floorplan makes the space seem that much bigger. Though, the kitchen being so open to the living room makes it so that the only privacy Bucky will ever have here will be behind his bedroom door. Not that he plans to hang out outside of his room very much. He didn’t do that very often back in the compound either.
         Bucky’s gaze is broken away from the view when he hears the elevator ding in the hallway, followed by Wanda and Vision whispering back and forth.
         “She’ll probably be out for at least an hour since she’s meeting Fury, but we might have even longer than that.” Wanda’s hushed tone is one that Bucky has heard plenty of times before. He’s heard it most often when it's late at night, and she and Vision are sneaking around together. They always think they’re being so stealthy, but honestly, the rest of the team has heard them getting it on on more than a handful of occasions. Tony should have just let them share a place, but Bucky understands why he didn’t. You would’ve been stuck with one of the guys. Tony thought he was doing you a favor by sticking you with Wanda, especially since the two of you are such good friends, but he failed to realize just how attached Wanda and Vision are lately. Bucky feels for you in this moment, he truly does. Though he’s never really been on your end of something like this, he was in Vision’s shoes often back in his early army days. He always had a pretty girl on his arm and he knows he made his fair share of people uncomfortable with his public displays of affection. He can’t imagine how much a roommate would’ve hated him if he’d had one back then.
         He listens as Wanda and Vision pass by his apartment and continue on down the hall. The apartment immediately next to his is going to be empty for at least a few days, since it belongs to Clint and Sam, and neither of them were in town today to be able to move in. Yours and Wanda’s apartment is the next one over. However, even all of that space between your apartment and his is no match for Bucky’s heightened sense of hearing. It’s always been more of a curse than a blessing to him, and that proves true again now, as his ears are assaulted by the sound of Vision and Wanda tearing each other’s clothes off.
---
         Your meeting with Fury was a lot shorter than usual, but he did send you back to your new apartment with an abundance of Chinese food from the hole-in-the-wall place that he chose to meet at. As you make the trek from the parking garage to the building, carrying an over-filled plastic baggy of food, you wonder if Wanda’s already started unpacking her things. Maybe she’s been working on setting up the apartment since you left and she’ll be ready for a food break. You glance down at your phone and see that it’s nearing 8 pm. You’re envisioning an evening of good food and friendly company in your new apartment, but of course, that’s not what you’ll find once you make your way upstairs.
         As soon as the elevator lets you out onto your floor, you feel like you’re in college again, making your way down the hall of a dorm building. You probably shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up about the nice little roommate dinner. You’re not even three feet away from the door when you hear the distinctive sound of a headboard slapping against the wall and it freezes you in your tracks. Shit, you can’t even go into your own apartment. You stand there like a deer in headlights for about five seconds, horrified by what you’re listening in on, before you start backtracking to the elevator. You can enjoy the food from the comfort of your own car, even if it’s fucking freezing outside. As you start walking back down the hall, you catch yourself stopping outside of Bucky’s door. Surely, he’s home. You don’t know him as well as you know the rest of the team, but you do know that he spent a lot of time in his suite back in the compound. It’s unlikely that he’s out tonight. For a brief moment, you imagine yourself knocking on his door while he sits inside and completely ignores you. Is he the type to do that? To pretend he isn’t home? Hell, forget it. You’ll just go with your original plan of eating in the car.
         Bucky heard the elevator ding when you arrived a couple of minutes ago. He probably should’ve stuck his head out into the hall and warned you, or even reached out to Sam and asked for your number so he could’ve texted you some kind of warning. He had every opportunity to spare you, but instead he sat in his apartment with some random documentary playing on the TV and a cold beer in his hand. He expected you to leave as quickly as you’d arrived, so he was surprised when he heard your footsteps stop short outside his door. If you’d had a sense of hearing anything like his, you would’ve heard him rise from the couch and make his way over to look at you through the peephole in the door. He stares at you now, seeing your nose and cheeks flushed pink from the cold weather, a bag of what looks to be takeout clutched in your left hand while your phone and keys are in your right, and an imperceptible expression written across your features. Why does he feel the sudden urge to invite you in?
         Bucky doesn’t give the situation a second thought. His hand is tugging the door open before he even realizes what he’s doing.
         “I…” You’re about to explain what you’re doing standing outside of Bucky’s door, but you don’t really feel like saying your roommate is fucking my roommate and I have nowhere else to go, so you simply hold the bag of takeout up and offer him a weak smile. “I’ll share.” You feel exposed as his eyes narrow and travel down your frame. He’s analyzing you, or maybe he’s judging you, you really can’t tell. Normally you’re someone who stands tall and holds their own, but in front of this man, you always seem to feel small. You’re about to cut your losses and ditch when Bucky pulls the door open a little more and tilts his head, inviting you in. No fucking way.
         That’s how you ended up a few beers deep on his couch, feeling more comfortable around him than you’ve ever felt in your 6 months of living across the hall from each other. In fact, you felt so comfortable, that you were actively giving him shit about not finding a way to warn you about what you nearly walked in on in your apartment earlier.
         “You knew they were going at it and you were just going to let me walk in there.” You accuse him, clutching your third beer bottle to your chest as you feign a look of offense. Bucky sits on the opposite end of the couch, his gaze feeling heavy on your face. He has this way of looking at people like he can see straight through them, and if you were a little less buzzed, you’d probably feel naked under his stare.
         “How was I supposed to warn you? Leave a sign out in the hall?” He asks, taking a long sip of his sixth beer of the night. He’s far ahead of you, yet still, you’re the only one that’s feeling any effects from the alcohol. You wonder why he even drinks if it has no effect on him. Maybe he just likes the taste.
         “You could’ve texted me, called me, sent a damn carrier pigeon, I don’t know.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize that he most likely doesn’t even have your number. Not once has he ever had a reason to call or text you before, so why would he have your contact? “Give me your phone.” You say suddenly, sitting up straighter and setting your near-empty bottle on the coffee table. You hold out your hand and wait patiently as he eyes you closely. He contemplates brushing you off, but he’s finding this new side of you surprisingly amusing, so he decides to let the moment continue. He grabs his phone off of the arm of the couch and unlocks it before placing it in your open palm. You quickly create a contact for yourself, putting in only your first name and phone number. “Text me next time and tell me to stay out longer.”
         “They were going at it for nearly three hours, where would you have hid out?” Bucky wants to know. With the compound off limits, he can’t imagine anywhere else you’d go to waste that much time. Though, he doesn’t know you very well. Maybe you have friends in the city, or hell, even a boyfriend you could crash with.
         “The parking garage, Sam’s house, anywhere but here.” It seems like it’s safe to assume there’s no boyfriend if one of your first choices was Sam’s house, which is forty-five minutes away. Not that he cares. “I guess I should work on finding a good hideout for next time.” You click Bucky’s phone off and lean over the center cushion of the couch, gently setting it on his leg. Once you lean back to your side of the couch, tucking your legs in beside you and grasping your beer in your hand again, you notice Bucky staring. The look on his face is indecipherable, but you can tell that he’s deep in thought. You stare right back at him, tracing the rim of your bottle with your fingertip as you wait for him to say something. What he decides to say though, catches you completely off guard.
         “Maybe you and Vision should switch rooms.”        
-------------------Present------------------------
That’s how you ended up here. Standing in your now shared kitchen while a very shirtless Bucky Barnes continues to wonder why the hell you’re not wearing any pants. You watch him carefully as his sips something from a white mug. It looks so tiny in his hands, so fragile. You’re amazed that he can handle such a delicate item without shattering it. Your eyes begin tracing the veins that decorate the back of his flesh hand, traveling up his forearm until you reach his bicep. God, he really never misses a workout, does he? Wait, why the hell are you looking? You shake your head to clear your mind of whatever thoughts were about to enter and then grab your glass of water from the counter again.
“Goodnight, roommate.” You say somewhat sarcastically, passing behind Bucky on your way back to your room. He catches a whiff of your scent as you pass him. It’s something sweet, maybe vanilla? Whatever it is, he likes it. He rarely ever stood close enough to you before to find out that you smell so damn good. Where is his mind tonight? He’s starting to wonder if something really was off with those beers that you both had earlier.
---
         “Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan while you arch your back and focus on his touch. His hands are alternately cold and hot, each sliding up along the outer sides of your thighs at a tantalizingly slow pace. You want to lean back against him, you want to reach between the two of you and line his cock up with your entrance yourself, you want to beg him to fuck you already. “Please.”
         “Shh, be patient, Y/n.” He coos, pressing his lips to your left shoulder. You feel his hard length slip between your legs and brush against your wet folds, teasing you relentlessly. You can’t help the way your hips grind into him, your cunt searching for friction wherever you can find it. He’s quick to grip your waist and still you, ghosting his lips up the side of your neck before they graze over the shell of your ear. “Try that again and you get nothing.” He warns. You’re trembling and he’s barely even done anything to you yet, while you stand right there on display for him, nearly bent over the kitchen sink. You let out a shaky exhale as his right hand leaves your waist. He wraps that hand around his cock and guides the head to glide back and forth along your pussy.
         “Oh, god, please, Bucky.” You’ve been reduced to a quivering, begging mess before him.
         “Tell me what you need.” He demands, continuing his teasing actions between your legs. You let out a whimper as you grip the edge of the kitchen counter.
         “You, I need you.” You say breathlessly, hoping it’s what he wants to hear.
         “You can be more specific than that, Y/n.”
         “I need you to fuck me.” That’s what he needed to hear. He begins slotting his dick into your entrance. You feel the tip just barely stretching—
         You wake up suddenly in a cold sweat, your t-shirt sticking to your heaving chest and your thighs clenched tightly together under the covers. Holy fuck. That’s new. It takes you about a minute to recover and calm your mind enough to fully realize what you just dreamt about…having sex with Bucky Barnes. The man you barely know, who you now share an apartment with. The man who is currently right across the hall from you, probably still shirtless, and in his own bed, and fuck.
         While you were working on coming down from your wet dream, Bucky was lying wide awake in his bed. It was only an hour and a half ago that the two of you exchanged a few words in the kitchen. You scurried off to your room and fell asleep pretty quickly after taking your ibuprofen, but Bucky laid awake, as he usually does. He was actually just starting to drift off to sleep when he heard something coming from behind your door. Great, you talk in your sleep. Or at least that’s what he was assuming, until he strained his ears a little harder and realized he couldn’t make out any fully formed words, only sounds. And the sounds you were making…fuck. They sent all of the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. You were moaning. You were fucking whimpering. He wanted to write it off as nothing. Hell, maybe you were having a nightmare and those are the sounds you make when you’re scared. But who was he kidding? You were obviously having a sex dream, and his fucking insomnia was keeping him awake to hear it all. Every filthy sound that slipped past your lips was like torture. Bucky found himself squeezing his eyes shut and gripping his quilt in both hands, trying to use all of his willpower to redirect bloodflow away from his lower half. It was wrong to be so turned on by this, by his roommate being unconsciously aroused. When you suddenly went silent, he knew you’d woken up. He thanked every entity he could think of for that.
         He seriously fucked up when he invited you to move in. Little does he know, he will soon be paying for his lapse in judgement, even more than he is right now.
Next Part
TAG LIST (if there is a line through your user, Tumblr would not let me tag you):
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833 notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 5 months
Text
Small Surprises
Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader
TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff
A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)
Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho
EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!
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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.
And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.
But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.
That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.
Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.
She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...
This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.
"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."
Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."
Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.
"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.
"They don't look right!" She complained.
"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.
The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.
He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.
But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.
"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"
Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"
"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.
"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."
'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.
"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"
Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.
"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.
"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."
"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.
Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.
"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.
"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.
"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.
"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"
The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.
Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.
He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.
Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.
"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.
"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.
"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."
The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"
"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.
The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.
You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.
Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...
Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.
Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.
"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"
Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!
"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.
"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.
"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.
"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"
Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.
You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.
"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.
"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.
Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...
"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.
"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."
You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.
"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.
"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.
His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."
"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.
"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"
"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.
"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.
"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.
"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.
"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.
"Hippo Lady?"
"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"
"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.
"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."
"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.
"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!
What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.
That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.
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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.
You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.
And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.
Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.
You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"
You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.
One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.
His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.
He did make out the name "Steven".
"Uh--" He said awkwardly.
"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".
"Uh..."
"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.
"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.
"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.
"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.
"You..."
'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.
"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.
"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.
"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.
Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.
"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."
"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.
Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.
Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.
"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."
"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.
"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"
Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.
His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.
'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.
"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.
Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.
"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."
"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."
"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.
"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.
"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.
"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."
"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.
He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.
"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.
Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."
"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.
Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"
"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.
"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."
'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.
Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.
'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.
'Pot, meet kettle...'
'Touché...'
"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.
"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."
"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."
"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.
"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...
'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'
Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...
"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.
"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."
"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."
The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.
'Wow...'
'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.
Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.
"You okay?" You ask him.
"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."
You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.
"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.
"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.
'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.
'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'
Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.
Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.
And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.
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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.
One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.
He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.
But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.
And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.
He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...
All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.
And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.
You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.
He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.
Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--
Jake's hands stopped knitting.
Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.
When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...
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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.
She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.
"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"
"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.
"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"
You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.
And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.
In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.
He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?
And wow! So close by, too!
Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.
"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.
But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.
Then, he looked up.
You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.
You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.
"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.
"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:
Hi :)
The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.
Hello
You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.
You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.
Steven or Marc?
He smiled at you and scribbled back.
Jake
Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!
They've told me a lot about you, too.
"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.
"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".
You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.
You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.
"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.
You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.
That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.
Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.
He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.
He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".
That was how you met Jake Lockley.
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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.
But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?
It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)
You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.
You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.
It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.
The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.
For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...
They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...
But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.
Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.
That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.
You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.
"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...
"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.
You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...
But you decided to call instead.
That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...
♫"Lonely is a man,
Without looove~"♫
'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.
'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.
Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...
Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.
"H-Hello..."
"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.
'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.
'Busted.' Jake almost sang.
You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?
And then there's the phone!
Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.
You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.
Would this make you both the bad and good cop?
You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.
"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."
Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.
"Okay..." He peeped.
'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.
'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.
"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.
You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"
Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...
"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.
Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.
"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"
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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?
Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.
That would shut him up for a little while, surely.
Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).
You hesitated, at first... But...
They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.
Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.
Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.
But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.
Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.
As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.
You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.
"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.
"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."
"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.
Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.
"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"
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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.
Yeah, you knew how that story ended.
But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.
Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.
After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.
He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.
You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.
God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.
And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?
Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.
"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.
Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."
You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.
Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.
Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.
"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.
"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.
She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."
Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.
He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.
"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.
"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"
"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.
"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.
"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."
As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.
"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.
When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.
The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...
But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.
You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.
Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.
"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"
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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.
They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.
You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.
Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.
It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.
Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.
But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.
"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.
"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.
"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"
He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.
Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.
Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.
"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"
He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.
"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.
His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.
"G'night daddy."
He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.
He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.
You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.
"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"I..." He said, his voice breaking.
You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.
It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...
"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."
Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...
He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.
He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.
'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.
'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.
"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.
"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.
"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."
Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.
"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."
"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.
You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.
"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.
"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.
Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.
"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."
"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.
Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.
You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"
She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.
"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.
She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.
"There's a bird-man in my room."
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fanaticsnail · 23 days
Text
Kind And Gentle
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 3,100+
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Synopsis: Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.
Themes: Benn Beckman x reader, Friends to lovers, confessions of love, suggestive dialogue, massaging - reader receiving, pain, aching, yearning, small kiss, Shanks is a meanie, swearing, teasing, Beckman is a softie, Beckman is a gentleman, term of endearment "Darlin'" used - it's just what I associate him saying.
Notes: Pure self-indulgence fic, procrastinating while I should be going through my WIPs. My shoulder hurts, guys. Needed this to get out of my system and get through the pain.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @missbeckman @tiredemomama
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Pain. White and hot, swelling and encumbering. This was what you were experiencing in the middle of your spine; just a little to the right side of your body.
The ache never eased, no matter what position you slept in, nor adjusting your posture throughout the day. It was unending, the torment which knit your muscles together and cemented them in place. 
You clenched your eyes tightly shut, bracing yourself against the wooden hallway wall as you rotate your neck in a circle atop your shoulders slowly. Arching your back, you winced as the knot continued to integrate itself in a woven entanglement of painful muscle beneath your skin. 
Biting back a whimper, you tried as you might to reach the cursed divot beneath your flesh, whining quietly as your fingertips barely brushed against the surface of the painful coil. The ache called to you, the burden causing a small tremor in your lips from the electric heat of the hidden wound. 
Shaking your head, you huffed out a breath as you attempted to soldier on about your daily chores. Ignoring the tight ache beneath your skin with a deep grimace written on your lips, you finally gave into your pain and balanced your hands against the wooden beam atop the deck of the Red-Force. 
The sea breeze hit your nose, relaxing you briefly before the pain eclipsed all your senses. Brain foggy with anguish, lips parted and panting, eyes frantic and wife: you could bear it no longer. You muted a cry, muffling it within your mouth while you tried to release the elastic coil in your back by twisting your torso. 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you curse in a soft whisper, your brows rising in a pain-riddled peak in your forehead. You moaned out in a soft whimper, praying nobody could hear your weakness as you tried to reach for the spot a second time.
The band was bordering on excruciating, your mind contemplating whether or not to seek out Hongo for medical attention due to the intensity of the pain. Just as you began to turn on your way, two strong hands clapped over your shoulders: thumbs moving in rough circles against your skin. 
“I got you, Darlin’,” the gruff voice Shanks’ first mate whispered in a calming rumble, “Just tell me when I'm gettin’ close to it.” 
Benn Beckman. It was always Benn Beckman. Any time any of the crew needed anything, no task too small, no feat too great: Beckman was the champion you had all grown accustomed to rely on. Leaning back into his touch, you hung your neck low to grant him greater access
“Oh-... mmmf-... -‘kay,'' you whimpered, curving your back down to expose more of your spine to him, “It's not-... Hhah-... It's not normally this-...fucking, shit-... -this bad.” A small click of his tongue snapped at you in empathy as his thumbs brushed against the coil of pain. 
Although your friendship with Beckman ran deep, you had never engaged with him physically before. You respected one another, adored one another, and were as close as two crewmates could be. Two sides of a coin, twin edges of a blade, the gunpowder and the spark that lit the fuse - this was how you were described by your red-headed captain. 
But as his thumbs sought out your deepest pain, all your thoughts escaped you. There was nothing else, just: Beckman, his focus and his expert touch. 
“Just a touch to the right-... ahh, Becks!” you cried out as his digits flicked over the painful swell beneath your flesh. Huffing out pants of breath, you sobbed in strained relief as he continued massaging your body. 
“Oh, fuck. It's there, isn't it?” he whispered, the thumb of his right hand pressed firmly against the tight knot as his left hand braced you against the side-beam of the boat, “There it is, Darlin’. I found it. There's the spot.” You arched your back within his broad hands, your arms stiffening in firm pillars against the deck as he prodded the painful peak in your back. 
“Oh, that's it! Right there, that's the spot,” you mewled out, crying and gasping for him as he untangled your muscles with his rough, practiced hands. Just as he pressed his strength further against you, you winced out a strangled, “Fuck, not so rough! Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” 
“Darlin’, this is me being kind and gentle,” he bullied his thumb into your skin, stapling you to the wall of the ship by his hips and holding you steady with his hand perched on your left shoulder, “You need a bit of rough treatment. Hold still, let me coax it out of you.”
“Becks,” you whispered out his name, lulling your head back on your shoulders as he continued to pry, paw and claw the knot apart with his right hand, “Becks it hurts.”
“I know, I know,” his gruff voice reassured you, the gentle hold of his left hand against your shoulder contradicted the right hand that bruised your muscles, “It'll all be over soon. I'm nearly there, I can feel your body moving it with me. Just hold on.”
His thumb pressed an intentional swipe up, directing the pain up your back and into the peaked corner of your shoulder. His brows knit low in deep concentration, prompting him to suck in an empathetic breath in anticipation. 
“Ohh… You're gonna hate me,” he whispered in your ear, kicking your feet apart with his heavy boots before anchoring his pelvis against your glutes to hold you firmer against the ship's wooden railing, “You need an elbow.”
“No, no, no! Not an elbow!” you cried, just as his right elbow drew itself against your spongy flesh, “Becks! It's-... nnmfph-... too much! Ahh! Too much!”
Attempting to break from his grip, you shook yourself away from his hands, only for your body to immediately betray you. Bent over the railing, your back immediately became unraveled by a firm grip and a strong elbow to the point that ailed you. 
“Oh hush, you need it,” he barked in a soft tone, eclipsing your concern with an intentional rotation of his elbow against your shoulder, “Be a good little thing and take it.” He was moving the vines of the entanglement away from the source point, breaking it down beneath his body and flushing it out with heavy swipes. 
Benn Beckman was experiencing the toughest battle he had ever had the displeasure in engaging with. He was trying to tune out how good you sounded calling out his name in pants and whines, his own empathetic huffs and groans mixing harmoniously with yours as he gripped your flesh.
“Benn Beck-...fuck-... It's right there. Right there, Becks! Don't stop!” you whimpered, your voice high and your desperation showcased in the soft pants of your breath. The release of your entangled flesh was just within Beckman's grasp, prompting him to switch back to using his fingers to expel the pressure beneath your skin. 
“I got you. There ya’ go,” he confirmed again, expanding the heel of his palm against the binding presence of the last of the entanglement, “Breathe through it with me, I'm not gonna stop ‘til you're done.” 
“Oh, fuck Beckman,” your eyes glazed over, your lips parting and crying out in bliss as his skillful ministrations cast out the pressure in your shoulder as a priest would cleanse unholy ground to make their sanctuary.
“Th-That’s it. Oh m-my fuck-,” you whined back into his hands, “You're so good. Your hands feel so good.” As the last of the knot fled your shoulder, a warm chuckle rumbled from behind you. Beckman's laugh brought you comfort, his softness depicted in this small moment as he held you in his arms. 
His firm hands turned soft, caressing your shoulders in tender, gentle touches. He molded both of your shoulders within his palms, your body becoming jelly beneath his rough and calloused hands. You moaned softly as he maneuvered your body in a perfect arch against his chest, the rumble of his chuckle reverberating within your back to vibrate within your chest. 
“Better?” he whispered in the shell of your ear, easing his body back to enable you to escape his broad cage. Instead of breaking away from his body, you relaxed into his arms, sighing out a warm breath of contentment. 
“Thank you, Becks. You're bloody amazing at that,” you praised him, feeling light and free of the bonds that confined you, “Why did you offer to help me with it?” 
“There was something in your face that told me you needed it,” he shrugged, huffing a small chuckle out of his nose and leant down to rumble out a whisper in your ear, “Always wanna help you, Darlin’.”
“Oh Becks, I could kiss you,” you turned in his arms, gazing through half-hooded eyelids up at him, “Can I?”
He smirked down at you, a small pink due flushing his cheeks with a subtle dust, bobbing his head in a soft nod to grant you permission. As you circled your arms over his neck and began to draw him closer to your lips, a chorus of barked laughter and an uproar of cheers echoed along the hull of the ship. Clapping hands, whistles and hoots erupted from your crew now surrounding the two of you. 
“Oh, Beckman,” your captain cackled at you, his right hand clapping over his heart, “In public, big guy? And you,” he pointed his index finger at you, his wolfy grin painted in a drawn-out taunting smirk, “You sly little fox. Gettin’ the big man to take you right on the deck?”
“What?” you questioned your captain in a warning tone, floating your eyes between the rest of the crew gathered on the deck beside him. Shanks’ playful twinkle fluttered beneath his weighty eyelashes. 
“Be gentle with me, Becks,” he mocked in a needy moan not too dissimilar from your own, before hardening his features and deepening his voice in a grunted, “You need a bit of rough treatment,” he commented gruffly. The color drained from your face, eyes widening and lips parting once again in bashful horrification. 
“Oh right there, Becks, don't stop,” Shanks continued his performance, a small warning began to rise within Beckman's throat in a rumbled growl. Breaking out of your embrace, he grimaced at the red-head in front of him. 
“Enough, Cap’n,” Beckman snarled, reaching within his pocket and pulling out his lighter with his left hand, fishing out a cigarette to follow, “Got out a knot, s’all. You know how shit they are.” Beckman ignited the end, taking a lengthy drag and exhaling a puff away from your face. 
“Really? That's all?” Shanks cried out a laugh, the crew echoing his unashamed and carefree joy at the notion, “I thought I saw some hips moving together, Becks. You were letting some of your own groans out too, mewling like a wh-.”
“-Or should I relay half of the bullshit you curse out when Hongo releases the knots in your own shoulder?” Beckman smirked, his eyes daring his captain to say another embarrassing quip. After a pregnant pause, silent tension only momentary before another uproar of laughter barked out amongst the Red-Hair pirates. 
“Yeah, yeah. I'm done,” Shanks waved his hand in the air, shooting you a small wink before turning to face his crew, “What say we make port, huh? Resupply with some fresh drinks, a hot meal, some good company, and a comfortable sleep on dry land?”
“Aye, sir!” the crew echoed in unison, your own confirmation falling from your lips as you began maneuvering around the first-mate to resume your duties. Just as you passed Beckman's shoulder, a firm hand shot out and gripped your forearm to hold you in place. 
“Beckman?” you asked, turning to meet his eyes. You floated your own between his, hovering your attention to fixate on him completely, “Everything alright, Sir?” 
“Goin’ back to ‘Sir’ again, after all that,” he murmured, barely above comprehension. Your quizzical feeling never left you, still hovering between the lenses of his glassy orbs. 
“How you feeling?” he asked as he pressed down the filter end of the cigarette beneath the pad of his thumb, placing the butt-end in the small drawer attached to the hull of the ship, “I get it all out, or the ache still hangin’ in there?”
Humming in thought, you rotated your right arm and felt the ghost of your prior pain simmer down and flee from your form. The small pinch only remained behind in memory, but the small remnants of the ache threatened to return. 
“It's gone for now, I think,” you uttered with a small shrug, “It'll likely begin the slow journey back up my spine in a pinch.” Beckman hummed in thought, nodding along as he checked over your body for any changes. 
After a small lull, you held your ground as the atmosphere once again fell into awkwardness. You shook your head to stifle your nerves, sucking in a breath to elevate your courage. 
“Can I buy you a drink or two when we get to port?” you ask him, eyes dropping to the ground and hands laced behind you, “An expression of my gratitude for you helping me out?”
“You askin’ me out on a date?” Beckman disguised his growing smile by arching himself away from you, loosening the tie in his hair and beginning to restyle it.
“And if I am?” you ask, still avoiding his gaze by holding your eyes firmly against the floor, “What then?”
“What then, Darlin’,'' he smirked, his eyes softening as his hands found your hips, “Is that I'd accept.” He pulled you flush with him, prompting your eyes to widen and search his gray orbs in your shock, “I wouldn't mind spending an evening with you, havin’ drinks in a quiet corner for a change.”
“It would be a nice change,” you confessed, eyes again falling soft for the first mate. He leant his hips back on the wooden railing, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. His index finger lingered on your chin, holding your eyes against his. 
“What was it for you? To have you finally make a move after all this time?” he asked, his eyes turning playful as he looked down at you through half-hooded eyes, “The hands or the elbow?”
“I think it was the words,” you confessed with a small laugh, “Not used to having the Great Benn Beckman whisper: ‘be a good little thing and take it.’ Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm being honest,” a small choked pause fell from Beckman's lips, your own question now posed to him.
“What made you accept a drink with me?” you searched his eyes quizzically, pursing your lips as you continued, “We've served together for so long, what made you consider it now?”
“Oh Darlin', I've always considered it. More than considered it,” he huffed out a chuckle, bringing your face closer to his with the curl of his index finger, “Just didn't know how much I wanted it ‘til you started sayin' my name like that.” He hovered his lips over yours, his breath still scented with the sour, smoky tang of his last cigarette as he beckoned you in. 
“Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm bein' honest,” he parroted your words back at you before finally claiming your lips beneath his own in a chaste kiss. The attention he gave your lips was brief, ending contact almost as soon as they touched. 
He pulled away from your lips, noticing your pout and slight agitation at the hastiness the kiss ended. Chuckling, he leant over your ear and confessed his intentions further. 
“Cap’n’s watchin’,” he nodded over to where Shanks’ taunting eyes and winning smile wordlessly teased you both, “Don't wanna give him more ammunition to tease you with, Darlin'. No matter how much I really wanna kiss you.”
“I owe you more,” you hummed up at him with a soft smile, tucking the loose strand of hair away from his forehead and behind his ear, “Anything I can do to repay my growing debt to you? More than a couple drinks later, a little kiss, or taking care of your duties for you today?”
“Just the promise of your company later will do for now,” he chuckled, leaning into the heel of your palm with his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.
“Aye, Sir,” you smirked at him, giving his cheek two gentle taps before returning back to duty with a newfound rejuvenation. Your limbs felt lighter, your body felt freer and your head felt less foggy with the prior pain you felt. 
Shanks sauntered over towards his first-mate, smirking and kicking up his feet all along the way in a playful dance. Beckman shook his head, reaching for another cigarette and lit the end. Shanks leaned his head against Beck’s shoulders, uttering not a single word as he fluttered his eyelashes, wiggled his eyebrows and clicked his tongue at the broody, larger man. 
“Don’t even start,” Beckman growled under his breath. Shanks smiled wider, jolting his right index finger into Beckman’s side as he hummed up a playful mock at him. 
“But you finally made a move, big man,” Shanks chuckled, nudging him with his left shoulder, “How long’s it been now? Two, maybe three years of longing, yearning and lusting from afar, hm?”
“Four,” Beckman commented gruffly, inhaling a deep breath of smoke in his mouth and holding it still behind his lips, “And I remember saying: ‘don’t even start’.”
“Alright, alright. I’m going, I’m going,” Shanks held his right hand up in defence, an extra buzz in his step at the knowledge that Beckman and you had finally allowed a small crack in the door open to engage with one another this way. A small chuckle erupted in Shanks’ voice, his own amusement adamant over his features.
“Right there Becks, don’t stop,” Shanks’ voice whined again in a needy moan, before growling out a rumbled mock of, “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you’re done,” he laughed, turning back over his shoulder, “Honestly, Beckman. Show a bit of composure, man.” 
Beckman’s blush scorched scarlet on his features, prompting him to thrust the butt of his cigarette into the drawer and begin to charge at his Captain. Shanks shrieked out a giddy cry of amusement at his first-mate.
“Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” Shanks laughed, turning tail and began running away in glee from successfully taunting his first mate. The barrelling boot heels of the first mate almost managed to catch up to the Captain immediately, but Shanks continued successfully darting away from Beckman’s disciplinary grasp.
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