#most of them are so so sweet. we have regulars who are in almost every day and they are the NICEST people ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxurychristmaspudding · 4 months

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summary: you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel.

swept off your feet by the sweet southerner, and charmed by pope, the boys come together to show frankie exactly what it is he’s missing.

read part 2, watch, here

grouping: f!reader x joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia

rating/warnings: 18+. MDNI. no outbreak (tlou) - but based after the tf mission. softdom!joel, softdom!santi, sub!frankie, sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, maybe MFM?, sharing the luuuurve, praise kink, one (1) count of spitting in mouth, dirty talk, daddy kink (heavy, sorry lmao), oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it!), creampie, come eating, pussyjob?, so many orgasms i started to lose count, maybe a tiny bit of angst, m!masturbation, light choking, f!overstim, bad spanish, right okay we’re done.

wc: 14.7k. we aren't gonna talk about it.

an: this is fucking filthy. i’m sorry. don’t ask.

When you first started to hang out with them all, Will told you that Frankie was useless with women. What you didn’t expect was for him to be this fucking oblivious.

You had been bartending when you met him at a bar downtown - all industrial steel, burnished mirrors, and low light. Frankie and the boys would come in every so often, and you warmed to them immediately. It was hard not to. The four men were always respectful, always polite. They never overstayed their welcome, or their tolerance, and always asked how you were.

Of course, it helped that they were also handsome, and you quickly fell into the trap you were sure they wove for all hospitality staff. The lingering glances from their table, the crooked smiles at the bar. The competition they seemed to enjoy amongst themselves of who could lather you with the most attention.

Will and Benny did particularly well. The elder brother saved a special, particularly mischievous smile and a wink for you every time he came to order, and saved a special, bruising elbow to the ribs for his brother every time he caught Benny staring. Benny was always a hoot considering his sore ribs, the air never seeming to have been knocked from him as he chatted away to you across the polished wood.

But it was the quieter two, Frankie and Santi, who piqued your curiosity. Santi - often cool, detached; who offered little information in the way of his life but seemed to want to be wrapped up in yours. Who would watch you over the rim of his glass of whisky, drop his eyes to your lips, dip his mouth in a smirk, and say he’d see you later. And Frankie, who could do almost nothing but watch you from his corner of their booth, his Standard Oil cap sunk low on his brow, both hands around his bottle. His deep swallow when you’d catch his eye. The blush that would crawl up his neck, threading through his cheeks when you smiled.

Over the months they came to the bar while you worked there, the five of you became friends of sorts. Once in a blue moon turned into once every two weeks, turned into every Saturday night. And you made sure you were always there, sacrificing the time you would have spent surfing social media on your sofa for time spent flirting with your favourite regulars. Enjoying their eyes on you. Enjoying Frankie’s blush when you called him sugar as you asked if he needed anything else.

One day, you hoped he’d gather enough courage to give you the answer you hoped for.

You.

But he never did.

When the time came for you to move on from the bar, you made sure to let them know. Your new job further into the city was a step exactly in the direction you wanted to go, and though the men shared touching groans of disappointment, they congratulated you wholeheartedly.

They also invited you to their Saturday night drinks. You gladly accepted.

On your last shift, Will slid you Frankie’s mobile number, explaining that he was the most reliable member, the one most likely to know what was going on with the group at any given time. When you ribbed him about how he must always be on his phone, Frankie shyly admitted it was because he had a daughter. He was constantly on the lookout for updates, sweet little pictures and messages his ex would send over. They had a good relationship, and his kid - Lucia - was gorgeous. They just live a little far away, Frankie had admitted, a sad little frown glazing over his features.

You had softened to him even more, asking him questions about his daughter over the bar while you poured his drinks, propping your chin in your hand and listening to him as he continued to talk after you were finished. You found yourself trying to make Frankie laugh, to hear his sweet chuckle, to brush a touch against his arm, see the sparkle in his eyes beneath his cap - similar, you imagined, to how your own eyes glittered back at him.

The conversation only stalled when Benny called for him - Fish, where are those drinks? - earning himself a thump from Will, who muttered something about Frankie finally finding the courage and Benny’s big fuckin’ mouth. Frankie’s cheeks had heated, and he'd cleared his throat, thanking you before gathering all the drinks in his large hands and heading back to the booth.

What you had overheard heated the tips of your ears and rattled around your brain, looming in the back of your mind when you joined them the Saturday after.

But Will's words must have just been a silly little joke, because no matter how hard you try, Frankie will not bend. No matter what you wear, no matter what you do, the curly haired pilot remains firmly out of reach.

And it’s not like you don’t have fun together. You join them on nights out. You’ve been invited over for poker games and parties. You share glances with Frankie, jokes, tales, hell, sometimes he even puts an arm around you. But it’s always the same. The end of the evening is always frustratingly uneventful.

Crowded into sweaty bars and packed living rooms, you’re caught in a never ending circle of wanting and longing. Maybe that’s why, one night, you find yourself exchanging heated glances with Santi.

Frankie never really touches you beyond a hug and a kiss on the cheek when you arrive, and remains a staunch gentleman no matter how much he drinks. Santi seems to strive to do the opposite. He finds you in the kitchen one night, trying to cool off after watching Frankie laugh and lean into another woman’s conversation, feeling foolish, immature, but trying to blink away tears anyway.

He talks to you like you’re the only interesting person he’s ever met, standing a little too close for a friend, only moving away when you’re interrupted by one of Benny’s buddies searching for a beer. When you return to the living room, Frankie notices. Notices how Santi pulls you in close when you’re near, presses a kiss to your hair, places a casual hand on your knee when you’re sat next to each other. And how you let him do it.

When Santi drops you off at your house, he looks at your lips for a long time. His eyes are burning as he tucks your hair behind your ear and wishes you a good night. But he doesn’t go further.

It’s driving you fucking insane.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined the chemistry between the three of you before, so what was wrong now? Whose starting pistol were they waiting for? You can’t help your desperate huffs of frustration every time you close the door at the end of another night - alone, sopping wet, with only your hand to help.

Until one night, when you really believe, truly believe that it might end differently.

Frankie has been sat next to you in the booth all evening, laughing and chatting away. His arm is slung over your shoulder, his thigh against yours, your body pressed into his side. It feels good, it feels right, and he’s looking at you in such a way that you begin to teeter dangerously close to pressing your lips to his in the middle of the bar.

You and Frankie take the opportunity to talk about anything and everything. Catching up on your jobs, how he’s re-received his licence, your families, future dreams and aspirations. It’s almost funny how perfectly everything seems to realign. You think this is the turning point - this is when you realise how perfect you are for each other, this is when you take the leap. The only hiccup seems to be when Frankie says he’ll be away for the next three weeks - working, and then visiting Lucia. Your heart crumbles a little - just a little - before you try to sweep away thoughts of him dying in a helicopter crash or falling back in love with his ex. It feels like you’ve waited so long for this moment that the universe might just try and be that cruel. Just for shits and giggles.

But it won’t. Everything’s fine. Everything’s great.

Santi seems to notice. He’s quieter than usual, watching the two of you cosy up together. He looks pleased, if a little put out, and when he thinks you aren’t looking he exchanges a look with Frankie. A raised eyebrow, a dipped head. A fucking finally.

As you move to leave the bar at closing time, Frankie touches your arm.

‘Mind if I walk you home, querida?’ He asks, holding out your coat. You take it and swoop it on over your shoulders, grinning at him.

‘Thought you’d never ask.’ You say.

Frankie walks you home like a gentleman.

Too much of a gentleman.

You bump shoulders every so often, but he doesn’t move to take your hand. And he’s all bashful smiles and throaty laughter, compliments and flirty asides, but you return them tenfold, wrapped up in a blinding smile.

You’re making it easy for him. Obvious. But he still isn’t taking the bait.

Maybe he doesn’t want you.

It’s an uncomfortable thought, but it bounces around your skull the whole way home. And it rumbles even louder when you get to your door and he pulls you in for a hug, a light hand barely lingering on your waist, before he wishes you goodnight.

You stand there, a little dazed before your brain catches up and decides to deploy your last ditch attempt. Just to see. Just to find out.

He’s halfway down your front path when you call out to him.

‘Frankie. Do you want to come in?’

He turns, limbs coming to a clumsy halt. His brows are high on his forehead, mouth a little ‘o’. Then he frowns.

Fuck. You’ve never felt like such an idiot in your life.

‘I - er,’ he starts, and you look down at the floor, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the concrete. ‘I have an early start tomorrow.’ He says.

You look back up at him.

‘Sorry,’ he continues, ‘Any other time and I’d be - I’d be right there. Y’know. Just - timing, that’s all.’

You try to soften the bite that wants to creep into your words at his rejection, but barely manage it.

‘It’s cool,’ you say, trying to smile. ‘No worries. I just - I bought that film you said you watched the other day. Paddington 2? The one Lucia likes.’ A slow smile lights his eyes. ‘Just wondered whether you wanted to come in and watch it with a beer. But yeah. No worries,’ and then, because you just can’t help yourself, you add - ‘Wouldn’t have been any funny business, just so ya know.’

You force out a laugh, and Frankie drops his eyes. Disappointed, confused. You feel bad for a second, but then you remember how embarrassed you feel, how stupid. It makes your skin crawl. Nevermind.

You clear your throat.

‘Anyway. Get home safe, Frankie,’ you say, ‘See you soon.’

You rush in and close the door before he can reply.

---

Your phone buzzes with a text early the next day.

You open your eyes with a groan, clutching unseeingly at trinkets on your nightstand until your stomach lurches at the thought that it might be Frankie. You sit up to grab it.

It’s not Frankie. It’s an unknown number.

Hey. Do u want to head to the bar 2night?

You frown, confused, fingers dancing over possible replies before another text flies through.

Got a friend Id like u to meet.

And then another.

Its Santi btw. Cant remember if u have my no.

You breathe out, type a quick sure. Fuck it. What harm could another of Santi’s friends do to your pride? Your sex drive? What harm could a night with Santi do? You follow it up with -

Who else will be there? Are you setting me up?

You chew on your thumb anxiously, waiting for his reply.

Just the 3 of us. Might be ;)

You snort at his reply, shooting back -

God. Am I really such a charity case?

- before getting out of bed to make breakfast. Halfway through your pancakes, you get a text back.

Nah. Just cant stand seein a good girl like u go to waste.

You put your phone back down on the table, slowing your chewing. Good girl. The two words send a lick of heat curling up your spine. A good girl like you going to waste.

A slow, smug smile spreads across your lips. You pick up your phone again and begin to tap out a reply. A risky move, one which would surely harm your chances with Frankie, but fuck it -

If you don’t want me to go to waste, you could always have me to yourself.

You stare at the blinking cursor for a second before deleting the message, instead asking him for a time. No need to be hasty.

You don’t know what his friend looks like yet, anyway.

As it turns out, Santi’s friend might be exactly who you need to forget about Frankie.

Joel Miller is older, in his fifties. Greying, tall, broad, gorgeous, and a true southern gentleman to boot. The kind of guy - you imagine - who would drive you to work the next day if you couldn’t walk after seeing him the night before.

And it’s going well. Really well.

You, Joel, and Santi chat easily around your little table, swapping jokes, telling stories, brushing touches to each other here and there. Joel works in construction - runs his own company with his brother, Tommy - and has a grown up daughter called Sarah. He’s worked on Santi’s house - actually knows most of the group - but is usually too busy (or too tired, he tells you) to come out and join them. You think about how unlucky it is that he hadn’t come around before you made such a fool of yourself last night. And then you vow not to think of Frankie again for the rest of the evening.

Joel is easy to be around - warm, safe - earthy and masculine. And maybe it’s something to do with the way his chocolate brown eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, but you don’t know what’s wrong with you. You can’t seem to stop thinking about what it would be like to run your fingers through his curls, feel the scrape of his stubble between your thighs, what his arms look like beneath his flannel, what his fingers - what his cock - would feel like inside of you. Something about the man is making your toes curl in your seat, and he hasn’t done anything more innocuous than thumb the charm hanging from your necklace. It’s agonising.

And to make it worse, Santi knows. You don’t know how, but he does. Maybe you’re just that easy to read.

In the blur of Joel leaving to go to the bathroom and get more drinks, Santi leans over to you.

‘What do you think?’ He asks.

You shrug, trying your absolute hardest to play it cool.

‘He’s nice. I like him. You should bring him out more often.’

Santi’s eyes glint with something molten, something teasing and knowing and sharp.

‘You want to take him home.’

You baulk at his words, cheeks flaming in response. You open and close your mouth as he leans in and laughs.

‘I never said that -’ you splutter, but Santi takes your hand.

‘You don’t need to, querida,’ he says, ‘I can see it written all over your face.’

You groan, forehead falling to his shoulder.

‘If it helps,’ he continues, ‘I think he wants to take you home, too.’

You look up from his shoulder into his eyes, and they glimmer back at you. You bite your lip.

‘Ya think?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, baby,’ he teases, ‘I do.’

You hum against him before tilting your face further back.

‘You know…’ you say, lips loosened by the alcohol. Santi tips his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. ‘'S not quite how I imagined the night would end.’

His lips quirk in a smile again. Ah, fuck.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. I kinda thought you’d take me home instead.’

Santi chuckles and looks away around the room. When his eyes settle back on you, they’re black and burning.

‘I’ve thought about it,’ he says, scratching his beard, ‘A lot. But I guessed you were too caught up on Frankie.’

You freeze at his words and sit up straight, clearing your throat.

‘I don’t -’ but Santi shakes his head at you, cutting you off. He says your name softly.

‘I know about last night,’ he says quietly. Your cheeks begin to burn again, but this time for a completely different reason. ‘He told me about it after he walked you home. And I told him he was the biggest fuckin’ idiot I know.’

Despite yourself, you smile.

‘I’m not gonna take you home, baby,’ Santi continues as you watch him, curious, ‘Not right now, anyway. My shit is complicated enough -’ Santi cuts himself off with a sigh, and your brows bunch together.

‘What’s wrong?’ you ask, your voice low and kind despite the fire sparking at his words.

Santi looks at you again, and whatever’s in his eyes looks too complex to divulge. He thumbs your knuckles, swirling patterns onto your hand.

‘Nothing,’ he says, but you frown at him again. ‘Just… stuff. Stuff to do with Frankie. It’s - complicated. I’ll tell you about it some other time. But what I wanted to say was - I wanted you to meet Joel. Because I think you’d be great for each other.’

Your jaw drops again, but before you can ask any questions, anything about his stuff with Frankie, Joel reappears with new drinks for the three of you. Santi gives you a tight-lipped smile, squeezing your hand before picking up his bottle. But you drop his gaze when Joel places a hand at the top of your back as he sits down.

‘Everything okay, baby?’ He asks.

Santi doesn’t leave early, but he doesn’t leave late, either. He stays long enough to know exactly where this thing with you and Joel is going, and then bails when he knows he should. Even if you still kinda wish he’d stay.

Even if you didn’t get the chance to ask him more about Frankie.

You and Joel linger for an hour longer, the ache in your core and the wetness in your underwear in response to him now almost impossible to ignore. Joel keeps a hand on your thigh. He sweeps a palm down your arm, tucks your hair behind your ear. And when the bell for closing rings out, he takes your hand and leads you out into the night.

He keeps a hold of your hand the whole way to your door.

When you get home, you turn to him on your doorstep. He smiles at you, taking you in through his eyelashes. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

You grip your keys tightly in your fist, the metal leaving marks and almost drawing blood as he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You forget to breathe as his scent crowds your senses, as the scruff of his beard scratches your cheek. You want to lick his neck, find out if he tastes as good as he smells, want to know what it feels like to have him pressed against you, on top of you, under you, behind you -

Joel cuts through your thoughts with a low chuckle against your ear.

‘Breathe, darlin’.’ He murmurs.

You open your eyes, take a deep breath, and sigh a laugh as you look down at your feet.

He is still unbearably close, and you know, you know you shouldn’t, but you don’t know if you’ll ever see this man again, and everything Santi said at the bar, and the fact that you feel like Joel could make you come with just a flick of his wrist is likely what sparks your tongue to stutter out -

‘Do you want to come in?’

Joel looks down at you again, a fire alight in his eyes. The heat sends a shiver down your spine.

He doesn’t give you an answer. Just pushes your front door open, takes your wrist, and pulls you inside.

---

Being with Joel is great.

It’s amazing. It’s like you finally have someone who can keep up with you. Your brain, your days, your plans. It’s like someone plopped Joel Miller on earth with a little note saying he was yours.

In the three weeks after you first meet him, you share countless breakfasts and dinners and spend your weekends wrapped up in sheets watching reruns of Golden Girls. It’s so simple to spend time with someone who is so easy to be around, someone who just gets you.

Joel makes you laugh, makes you feel important, wanted.

And the sex is incredible.

Like nothing you’ve ever had with anyone else. He seems to know what to do, exactly how you want it done, every time - it’s effortless. And somehow, you seem to do the same for him. In fact, the only problems you seem to have found are his size (because he’s huge) and the fact that you can’t be inside each other all the time.

Which is why it takes so much effort for you to peel yourself away from him when Santi asks if you’d like to join him and the guys for drinks on Saturday. You give him an affirmative before promptly being distracted by Joel coming out of the shower.

You see his reply forty minutes later.

Frankie will b there. That OK?

You type back a quick -

Of course :)

- before getting on with your day.

Drinks are almost the same as usual. It’s surprisingly easy to slot right back into where you were. Laughing, chatting, joking with Will and Benny. What they’ve been up to, who they’ve been with. Questions you manage to dodge with only a knowing smirk from Santi to remind you he knows exactly who you’ve been doing.

Frankie joins in from across the table. He couldn’t meet your eye when you first arrived, but over the course of the evening and a few drinks, he seems to have relaxed enough to look at you. Really look at you.

Which is unfortunate, because you can still feel Joel’s come from earlier in the day seeping into your underwear.

At some point in the evening, Benny and Will make their excuses - they have a family get together tomorrow they can’t be too hungover for - and it’s just you, Frankie, and Santi left.

It’s easy for the most part. Santi bridging the gap so effortlessly that it begins to feel like nothing happened between you and Frankie at all. And it didn’t, you remind yourself. Nothing happened. And then you met Joel.

So why are you still thinking about it?

You try to distract yourself, lose yourself in the conversation taking place between the two men. Something about Star Wars, new castings they’ve chosen for a series coming out later in the year. You try to contribute as much as you can, but fail miserably, earning yourself a brief history of the franchise from Santi. Eventually you get him to ease off with a hand to his chest, laughing until he starts to giggle, too. He uses the interlude to get up to use the bathroom and get more drinks, leaving you with Frankie and his soft, brown eyes.

You peer at each other nervously from across the table. You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lip, as he chews the inside of his cheek before taking a deep breath and meeting your eye.

You feel your jaw clench.

‘About the other night, a few weeks back,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was a fuckin’ moron -’ he pauses for a moment, sweeps a hand over his face. ‘I’m real rusty at this. The whole dating thing. I don’t think I even realised what it was you were sayin’ to me.’ Frankie huffs a laugh. A horrible, anxious feeling starts to work its way up your throat. ‘But I -’

He’s interrupted as a bartender floats by your booth, sweeping up some of the empty glasses. You smile up at her and thank her sweetly.

Maybe you can stall whatever Frankie has to say.

She swats at the air with her free hand.

‘Not at all, sugar,’ she says, ‘Can’t let a thing like empties get in the way of a date like this.’

You smile at her and bite your tongue, feeling hot. A blush begins to claw up your cheeks as she winks at you both and swings away. Had she not seen Santi? And - fuck - now how do you brush this off with Frankie? How do you stop where this is going?

You turn your eyes back to him, and he hasn’t even flushed at the insinuation. Instead, he bites his lip, something which sends a jolt of heat to the space between your thighs. He scratches the back of his neck, and rushes out in a lowered voice that even though he’s busy with work at the moment, he’d like to make it right -

‘I’d really love to take you out this weekend.’

Your stomach plummets to your feet. Fuck.

Tears of frustration prickle in your eyes. A lump of panic settles in your throat, and you almost feel like you could run out of the bar. Why is he doing this now?

You take a deep breath and try to form the kindest smile, the most apologetic furrow in your brows that you can.

‘Frankie,’ you breathe, and already his face begins to fall. You lean across the table and take one of his massive hands. ‘I’d have loved to, but -’

He shakes his head quickly, trying to draw his hand back.

‘It’s okay,’ he begins, ‘Fuck, I’m sorry. I must have just misread - I didn’t mean - I don’t want you to feel -’

But his interruption only serves to further spark the surge of irritation. You squeeze his hand tighter so he can’t rip it away and utter his name harshly. He stops immediately, his eyes whipping back to yours. Something stirs in you at his immediate obedience.

‘Listen to me,’ you say, shaking off your traitorous thoughts. ‘I’d have loved to. But I - I literally just started seeing someone, and I -’ you break off, groaning in frustration, ‘I don’t know if it’s serious, or if it’s exclusive, but he’s great, and I don’t want anyone - especially you - to get hurt by me being selfish or not knowing where things are at.’ You huff out a breath and meet his eye. He looks disappointed, upset even - but worst of all he looks understanding, almost grateful that you don’t want him to get caught up in this complex knot of wanting.

‘Frankie,’ you say softly, and try to smile, ‘I mean this in the least… damaging way. If you had asked me three weeks ago, when we were here last, I’d have said yes. In a heartbeat.’

Maybe it does make you an asshole. Maybe it does make you selfish. But it feels important in this moment to make sure that Frankie understands - you like him. You wanted him.

It’s just timing.

Frankie grimaces.

‘Fuck.’ He hisses. And when he tries to withdraw his hand this time, you let him. But you don’t look away.

A low light flickers in his eye. Something close to anger, you think - at himself, or at you, you’re not sure.

‘Is it -’ he begins, ‘Is it Pope?’

‘Pope?’ You ask, confused. Frankie shakes his head.

‘Santi. Is it Santi?’

You bark a laugh. You can’t help it.

‘Santi? Your Santi?’ you ask, bewildered. Frankie’s cheeks heat again. You want to put a pin in that, the flush at your, but your brain is suddenly so riddled with dredged up questions you can hardly order them.

‘What do you mean, Frankie?’ you ask, exasperated.

Frankie shakes his head again, realising his mistake, but you are beyond dropping the topic.

‘Frankie,’ you say, stern this time. ‘What do you mean?’

Frankie whips his cap off, runs an agitated hand through his hair, shifts his gaze around the bar for the other man.

‘He - he likes you, too,’ he says. ‘I was worried - worried he’d beat me to it ‘cos I didn’t ask before I went away. He said it was taking me too long to do - to gather the confidence to ask you -’ Now Frankie barks a laugh. ‘But it looks like we were both too late.’

You shake your head, the cogs in your brain turning slowly. How Santi looked at you was no secret. But if what Frankie was saying about how Santi felt was true, why had he introduced you to Joel? And if that was true, had you misunderstood what Santi said about him and Frankie? You feel your mouth open and close, but Frankie takes your silence to ask you another question.

‘Who is it?’

‘What?’

‘Who is it?’

You splutter over your answer, hesitating, stalling -

‘Frankie, how the fuck would you know?’

Because he would. And, rightly or wrongly, that panics you a little.

‘Is it someo-’

You cut him off, holding up your palm.

‘Frankie -’ you press a hand to your throat, feeling your rapid pulse. Fuck it. ‘I thought - I thought Santi was interested in you.’

Frankie chokes on his breath.

He stares at you, calculating something, breathing heavily.

‘It’s not - we’re not -’ he fumbles. You slouch back in your seat. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed. ‘We fuck around sometimes. And sometimes - sometimes other people -’ You groan, your head tipping back against the leather. Your head is spinning. ‘But we wouldn’t - I wouldn’t - fuck. I don’t want you to think that that’s what this is about -’ Frankie splays his hands in front of you. ‘God,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to explain any of this.’

The room suddenly feels too warm. You cradle your head in your hands, and stare at the way the table swims beneath you. What the fuck is happening?

You glance up at Frankie, but he’s watching you so intensely, so much concern and panic and want in his eyes that it makes you feel claustrophobic.

‘I need some air.’ You mumble across the table, and stumble out of the booth on unsteady legs. From the corner of your eye, you see Santi begin to cross the floor to return to the booth with drinks in his hands, see him watch you trip across the bar. In the back of your brain, you hear him call your name, but your hands are already on the handle of the front door, pushing it open and feeling the cool night air hit your clammy skin.

What the fuck is going on?

You fumble in your pocket for your phone and find Joel’s contact. You want to go home, and you want his help to forget about this. And, you think, you should probably ask whether he had any idea about Santi, or Frankie, or Santi and Frankie.

The call with Joel is quick, and he sounds appropriately concerned without needing to hear any details. He tells you to stay in view of the bar and to not move a muscle, and that he’ll be there in 10. You hope he can make it in five.

He’s too slow. After seven minutes, Frankie bursts out of the bar, Santi quickly following him.

‘Fish -’ Santi’s calling, but he catches himself when he sees you still standing there. Frankie screeches to a halt, too.

The three of you stare between each other, eyes wide, like you’re waiting for a bomb to go off.

Frankie says your name before you shake your head - rushing out a not now, Frankie just as Joel’s pickup peels into the parking lot.

Frankie can’t see him with his back turned, but he sure does when Joel comes striding from behind the two men to stand at your side.

‘Everything okay, baby?’ he asks in his low, southern drawl, and you instinctively lift your mouth for a kiss before realising how cruel that would be.

Joel tenses as you withdraw, finally taking in the other two men.

‘Pope,’ he says with a nod, and Santi smiles weakly back at him.

‘Frankie,’ Joel says a little softer, ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Joel.’ Frankie says through his teeth, realisation burning in his eyes.

‘How ya doin’, kid?’ Joel asks him, placing a hand on your lower back. Frankie juts out his chin.

‘Fine. Great.’ He says, ‘I was just leavin’, actually.’ Frankie whips his cap off, runs a hand through his hair. His jaw is set, angry. He shakes his head at the ground. ‘I’ll see you guys around.’ He says to no one in particular, turning on his heel and fleeing towards the car park.

Santi and Joel meet each others’ eyes in some kind of understanding, and you look angrily between them. Being left out of the loop again was not feeling cute.

Joel sighs, wrapping his arm around your waist.

‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.’ He murmurs, but you lurch out of his grasp and turn on the two of them. They watch you, surprised.

‘No,’ you say, ‘Nu-uh. We aren’t going anywhere until one of you tells me what the fuck is going on.’

Joel and Santi look at each other, expressions unreadable.

Santi shakes his head.

‘Come back inside,’ he says, turning back to the bar entrance, ‘We’re gonna need more beers for this.’

---

When you get down to the root of it, the truth isn’t even that complex. That’s the laughable part.

The long and short of it is this. One: Pope knew Frankie liked you. But he knew Frankie moved slow. And he’d gotten tired of watching, of knowing he’d be a dick if he made a play instead. And he cares about you, his friend. Wants to see you happy. Enter Joel. Two: Santi and Frankie fooled around while they were in Delta Force. It’s not a secret, but it’s never really been discussed. Sometimes they still fool around, but it’s been less frequent as they’ve gotten older. As they date other people. Three: Sometimes, when those other people they’re dating are willing, they bring them in, and they all have fun together.

Something Santi would have been fine with if you were his. Something Frankie was less cool with doing if he’d made his move.

Santi admits that he’s likely just been a dick throughout the whole thing. You make him promise to do better over another beer. He does. He also now knows not to cock block his best buddy with a mutual friend.

And Joel feels kinda bad about that. Not bad enough to pump the brakes with you, but uncomfortable, sure. He’s had Frankie round for barbecues, he likes the guy. He’s sorry he whisked you away from him. But not sorry enough.

Joel hasn’t been involved in any of Frankie and Santi’s adventures, but it’s something he’s played around with before. He’s had threesomes, but he doesn’t really volunteer more than that. The thought ignites something deep in your belly and you file it away for another day, a different conversation.

Once it’s all explained and you’re laughing together again, everything feels fine. Normal.

Except you don’t see Frankie for weeks afterwards.

You drop him a text every now and again, just wanting to know whether he’s okay, but you hear nothing back. Santi tries to assure you that you’ve done nothing wrong. There’s nothing for you to worry about.

But it still sits uneasy in your gut.

You see Joel almost every day. And Santi once a week.

The three of you meet for beers in a different bar from the one Santi meets Frankie, Will and Benny in - your bar. And you have fun.

It never goes beyond touches with Santi, though you find yourself wishing more and more often that it would. He rests a hand on your thigh under the table, his thumb swiping patterns over your flushed skin. Sometimes he has an arm flung around the back of your seat, sometimes rubbing the back of your neck, sometimes tucking hair behind your ear. He watches and stares and smiles and laughs at you and Joel, and you watch back with delighted curiosity. You like the way he makes you squirm while you sit next to the older man. And Joel loves to watch you squirm, too.

He loves getting you home and finding your panties soaked with arousal. He loves swiping two of his thick fingers through your folds with the front door barely closed, his hand shoved down the front of your jeans, your back arched already, a needy whine heavy in the back of your throat. He loves talking you through the things he’d like to watch Santi do to you, how good he knows you’d be for the two of them, how well behaved, how you’d take, take, take it, and how proud he’d be to show you off. My girl. He growls as he fucks into you at night. My girl.

And it suits you, how giving, how generous Joel is.

Seems to suit Santi, too.

At some point ideas had been swapped between you and Joel - some thinly disguised remark dropped by him over dinner one night had led to you picking at the thread and grinding him down over three days, trying to get to the bottom of it. He liked to share, he’d said. He liked to watch. He liked the control, and the pride, and the possession of it all. And goddammit, you liked the sound of it, too. Because after serious discussion - serious boundaries, limits, run throughs of possible scenarios, you talked through people who you wouldn’t mind trying it with.

And there was obvious one name you both settled on.

Santi.

And well, given his history, it didn’t take too long for you to convince him to join you.

And if it hadn't been for Santi’s suggestion, his knowledge, his understanding of his best friend, there’s a chance Frankie’s name wouldn’t have come up at all. You’re not sure if you’d have dared, considering how things were left. But, lo and behold, it does, and along with it the chance for him to see exactly what he's missing out on.

---

All the rules have been arranged for tonight, but the most important one, which you must remember, is that Frankie is not allowed to touch you.

At all. At any point.

You and Joel head to the usual bar to meet Santi and Frankie for drinks. You make sure to wear a dress which clings to your curves, dips at your cleavage, and settles just high enough on your thigh to be bordering on acceptable. And it must be more than acceptable, because Joel threatens to fuck you out of it three times before you leave the house.

It must be acceptable, because Santi cannot keep his eyes or his hands off you when you arrive at the venue, and Frankie from across the table cannot regain control of his jaw.

They both look good - you all look good - Joel with his hair combed back, a deep green flannel on, Santi in all black - and suddenly all you want to do is call the drinks off now and just head back to Joel’s. But the patience, the build up is critical. It’s foreplay.

Instead, you lean back in your chair, sipping on your cocktail as you take in the three men.

The conversation flows easily after a while. Joel is a master at it, weaving questions in and out, making sure to put both you and Frankie at ease. Besides, it’s been a while since you last saw each other. Not that either of you were any less eager for him to be involved. He’d been very keen, according to Santi.

He’s in dark jeans and a tight navy blue t-shirt tonight, his trademark cap confining his curls. He’s not dressed up, but he’s made an effort, and his shy looks across the table, his kind questions and easy jokes have begun healing the fractures of what happened weeks ago.

It doesn’t hurt that he and Santi had a good, long talk, and that you then shared a sweet phone call.

All the same, he sits opposite you, unable to touch you for the rest of the night.

Instead, he just gets to watch as Joel presses kisses to your neck, pulls you into his chest, skates his hands over your thighs - anything he can get away with doing to turn you on. And Santi isn’t far behind. Holding your hand on top of the table, bringing your knuckles to his lips, keeping a hand on your knee almost the entire time.

Your brain is a hot, buzzing mess by the time Santi checks his phone.

‘It’s getting late.’ He says, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Eager, no?’ You tease, trying - and failing - to cover the scent of your own desperate need.

‘Of course,’ Santi smirks over the rim of his glass, ‘But I’ll take my time with you.’

You try to laugh but fall back into Joel’s shoulder at his words, and the older man chuckles. He kisses your forehead tenderly. Frankie watches hungrily from across the table, the dark void of his eyes flicking towards his watch, desperate to leave.

When you do, he walks at a distance behind the three of you. You smile to yourself and sway your hips a little more for his benefit. And you swear you get a low whine as your reward.

---

You’re quiet the whole way home, trying not to clench your thighs too hard or rock yourself against the seat. You're so desperate for friction, for relief, that it’s hard for you to concentrate on what’s going on in the car. Hard for you to think of anything beyond Joel’s warm, heavy hand on your thigh as he drives.

He leans over to you halfway home, and whispers -

‘You’re quiet, baby. Everything okay?’

You flick a glance to him and find his eyes equal parts concerned and equal parts aflame. You smile.

‘I’m trying to be good,’ you murmur, ‘But you’re making it very difficult.’

Joel dips his chin in a smirk and squeezes your thigh, his fingers drifting dangerously close to your panties. You squirm a little in your seat, and it goads him to drift his hand further until it catches at the lace of the gusset. You gasp at the feeling, a tiny whimper making its way out from your lips, and all conversation in the back of the truck grinds to a halt. Your cheeks heat, and you turn to look out the window again, clamping your lip beneath your teeth.

No one says a word the rest of the way home.

Once you're all home, a silence settles around you. Everybody wide eyed, geared up, on edge. You’re not sure who to look at or what to say until Joel does it for you.

‘Upstairs.’ He commands, and everybody moves to follow him up the staircase. You keep your eyes on his broad back the whole way up, and once you reach the top, he holds his hand out behind him for you to grab. You do.

When you get to his bedroom door, Joel leads you in. You turn just as Santi crosses the threshold, as he pivots to Frankie behind him and says -

‘Kneel.’

Frankie glances at you, swallows, and returns his eyes to Santi. He drops down to his knees in the hallway.

‘Good,’ Santi murmurs, stepping forward to crouch down in front of him. ‘Do you remember the rules?’ He asks Frankie.

The younger man nods, his eyes dropping to the floor.

‘Yes.’

Santi nods once.

‘Good. Listen. And do not leave this spot.’

Santi straightens, turning his back on Frankie. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him on the floor - small, submissive - and you can’t help the little gasp you let out as Santi steps towards you and closes the door slowly behind him, leaving just enough of a gap so that Frankie can hear everything that happens but watch none of it.

Joel skirts his fingers down your waist and presses a kiss just under your ear.

‘You ready, baby girl?’ he rumbles. You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, finding his eyes dark, a familiar power behind them. You nod.

‘Yes.’ you say. He nods, pleased, twisting to kiss your mouth before guiding you towards Santi.

‘Good,’ he says. He turns and moves towards the armchair in the far corner of the room, sitting heavily in it.

Santi steps towards you and gently takes your face in his hands.

‘You okay?’ He asks quietly. You nod.

‘Yeah,’ you whisper, ‘Are you?’

Santi nods, his eyes searching yours for a hint of hesitation. You try to open up your mind to show him the excitement, the want you feel. Satisfied, he licks his lips.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks. You nod again, and Santi leans forwards, capturing your mouth in hard, slow movement.

Santi means to make a study of you, you think. His tongue is everywhere, his teeth grazing over your bottom lip, his hands gentle and then needy, already figuring out exactly what it is that makes you tick. And to make it even worse, every time you take a moment to catch your breath, he has that fucking smirk on his face. It’s infuriating, and you quickly need to find something which will wipe it off.

So you begin to undo his belt.

Pope huffs a chuckle against your lips, but doesn’t stop the work your hands are doing. Instead, he matches it with his own fingers.

With deft movements, he slips a hand under your dress and finds his way to your panties, touching you through the fabric. You groan against his mouth, and he smiles, ghosting over your folds. Not to be out done, you slip your hand into his jeans and palm him over his boxers. He hums against you.

‘Are we racing?’ He asks.

You cock your head to the side.

‘Thought you wanted to take your time?’ You quip back, and something flashes in his eyes.

He steps back.

‘Take this off.’ He says, tugging at the hem of your dress, and you pout at him.

‘Does that mean you take these off, too?’ You ask, tugging at his jeans. You’re pushing your luck, you know. But you think this might be easier if Santi undresses with you, if only to really see what you held in your hand.

Santi raises an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see,’ he says, ‘But you go first.’

You step back from him and glance at Joel, assessing. He nods at you, encouraging, and you pull your dress up and over your head. You stand before them in only your panties, and Santi takes a deep breath, biting his lip, smiling again.

‘Gorgeous, baby.’ He says. And you feel it. The way this man looks at you makes you feel weak, giddy - like your core is on fire.

Santi steps towards you to kiss you again, making sure his hand returns to where it had been, ghosting over your underwear. You groan into his mouth, impatient now, and his teeth scrape at your chin as he clicks his tongue. In answer, he sweeps your panties to the side, and grazes two digits along your slit. You moan loudly again, and Santi groans up at the ceiling.

‘Fuck, querida.’ He says, before stretching a thumb to your clit and sinking the two fingers deep inside you. You stumble against him as he begins to work you, breathing heavily against his clothed chest. You turn your face so your teeth can nip at his skin underneath.

‘Take - this - off.’ You hiss, and he laughs, slipping his fingers out of you with a groan to oblige. Santi removes his t-shirt quickly and chucks it somewhere across the room before pushing his jeans down and stepping out of them. He hurries to find purchase within your body once more, rocking you against him, curling his fingers deep inside you. His tongue returns to your mouth and you remember his hard cock in his boxers. You reach for it, but he blocks you with his arm. You whine.

‘Tan mojada ya, baby.’ He drawls. Santi removes his fingers from where they were curling inside of you and brings them to your mouth, tapping your lips. You open for him, and he presses them in, allowing you to swirl your tongue over them. You clean off the scent of your heady arousal as Santi watches you. He presses them hard, once, against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide for him.

He retracts his fingers.

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, and it goes straight to your cunt. You whimper a little, and he grins, stepping back and out of his boxers. ‘Take those off for me.’ He says, motioning at your soaked panties. You almost trip in your eagerness to do so. He retreats backwards until his calves hit the mattress, and he sits down before laying back, getting comfortable.

Santi watches you from the bed, laid out on his back. His lips curl as you rake your eyes over him - hands folded behind his head, his biceps rounding by his ears, his firm, strong torso spattered with dark hair, and his long, hard cock, bobbing and drooling as he takes you in.

‘Come here.’ He says.

You begin a slow walk to the bed, hesitating only for a moment as you crawl onto it and towards him. He licks his lips as you come closer, and you bite your lip back.

You feel unsure without being given specific direction, but you know that Joel will put you right if you step a toe out of line. So you place a knee on either side of Santi’s hips, and sink your heat down onto him as he pulls you forward by the back of your neck, searching for your lips.

You start to move, to adjust to try and let him inside, before Joel’s voice cracks like a whip out of the corner.

‘Either of us tell you you could fuck him yet?’ He growls.

You try to draw your mouth away from Santi to give your response, but he clamps your bottom lip between his teeth so you can go no further. You whimper and shake your head.

‘So put your fuckin’ hips back down. Y’ain’t earned it yet.’

Santi lets your lip go and flops back against the sheets with a shit-eating grin. You lower your hips again and place both your palms on his stomach, pushing your tits together. He eyes them greedily, reaching out and flicking a thumb over each nipple. You feel your pout grow, your brows drawn tight together and your bottom lip swollen, jutting out almost comically. Santi catches a glimpse of your face, and puffs out a laugh.

‘Poor baby,’ he coos, ‘Just wanna get fucked, don’t ya?’ You nod pathetically, but don’t dare move. He is achingly hard beneath you, his thick length resting perfectly between your folds. Santi lowers his hands from your nipples until he has them on your hips, and like he’s read your fucking mind, he begins to rock you back and forth.

A wanton, needy moan drools out of your mouth as your pussy wets him, fresh slick leaking out of your clenching hole. You wonder how much of this Frankie can hear.

Santi groans beneath you, watching the head of his cock disappear under you every time he slides you forwards. The pressure of him just against your lips is heady, and you watch as he guides you forwards just a little more, urges you to lean a little further forward until your clit catches on the head of his cock on every slide. You throw your head back, your fingers scratching at his torso, and he watches you. He whispers that you look so pretty like this, how he can feel you, look at how wet you’re making my cock, baby, can feel you twitchin’ on me already, angel. He guides you back and forth until you feel a heavy pressure begin to settle in your pussy, a burning beginning deep in your gut. Your moans become more frantic as you begin to plead with him, though you’re not sure what for.

‘Use your words, baby,’ Joel reminds you from his seat. ‘Ask Santi. Tell him what you need.’

You release a hot breath of air, biting your lip.

‘Gonna come, Santi,’ you tell him breathlessly, ‘Need to stop. Gonna come.’

But Santi just smiles sweetly up at you, his eyes heavy lidded. You pussy twitches, the knot pulling tighter. He reaches up with one hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Why would I want you to stop, angel?’ He asks. You shake your head. You don’t know. ‘Talk to me, baby.’ He prompts.

‘I don’t know. Haven’t been - fuck - told -’ you whimper. He nods, swallows harshly.

‘I want you to come,’ he tells you, ‘I want you to come now, and then I’m going to make you come again, and then as many more times as I see fit, do you understand?’

You groan and nod.

‘Yes, Santi.’

‘Good girl,’ he says. ‘And when I’m done with you, I’m gonna give you back to your daddy, and he’s gonna make you come as many times as he sees fit, too. Okay, baby?’

You clench around nothing, painfully, moving faster over Santi’s cock of your own accord.

‘Fuck. Yes, Santi.’

Santi settles his head back against the bed again, running his hands all over your body, anywhere he can touch you.

‘Go on, baby,’ he says, ‘Use me.’

Fuck, you groan out, tilting your hips to allow your clit to scrape down the underside of his cock at every pass. Without thinking, you lean so far forward that you plant a hand around the base of Santi’s throat to keep yourself upright, tightening your fingers over his pulse point. He lets out a strangled moan, his eyes fluttering closed, and you feel the pressure in your core build heavier and heavier until the white hot heat snaps. You throw your head back, coming with gasps of his name and loud moans, still rocking yourself back and forth, still squeezing over his neck.

Your vision is fuzzy and your breathing still feverish when Santi grabs at your fingers and pries them away from him. You flush at your carelessness, an Imsosorry rushing out as you stare at your hand in his. He shushes you tenderly, breathing deeply.

‘S’okay, baby,’ he says, ‘I like it. Don’t have a problem with it.’ He squeezes your hand, and then fixes you with a wicked, cruel look. ‘Just don’t wanna come yet, that’s all. Only so much a man can stand when I can feel you falling apart on top of me.’

You flush even deeper, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, laving hot, open mouthed kisses along the hard muscle there. He groans and chuckles against you, kneading your ass.

‘Want me to fuck you now, baby?’ He murmurs into your ear.

You whine against him, lick across his jaw.

‘Yes, Santi,’ you groan. ‘Please fuck me.’

Santi grips the hair at the base of your neck to pull you away from him, and you let yourself be led. He slides you off him, and rests on his knees before you. Your eyes dip hungrily to his bobbing cock, shining with your come, tip an angry red, precum dripping down its length. It twitches under your gaze, and you lick your lips.

Santi chuckles again, his hand still buried in your hair.

‘Dirty fuckin’ girl.’ He murmurs as he manipulates your body. ‘Turn around,’ he says, ‘Hands and knees, baby.’ You follow his directions, turning on the bed towards Joel before planting your limbs and curving your spine, angling your ass in the air. You’re not sure where you should look until Santi releases your hair and leans over your back, a hand on your hip.

‘Look at your daddy,’ he says into your ear, gripping your chin softly to angle your head. You look at Joel through heavy lidded eyes, only to find his are similar. ‘Keep your eyes on him.’

Joel is still fully dressed in the chair, head heavy against the back of it. His legs are spread wide, a hand on either arm, fingers spread and clenched slightly against the fabric. His jaw is tense, and you can see how his jeans strain over his cock - fully hard by the looks of it. You moan into the sheets as you watch him watch you. Santi kneels behind you, running his hands over your soft skin, as he dips two fingers through your folds, swearing softly.

‘She’s so wet, Joel.’ He whispers, and Joel’s eyes leave yours momentarily to see Santi hold his fingers up to the light, coated in slick. Joel’s hips move slightly, bucking into nothing, and he barely manages to grunt out a response. You wonder again how much of this Frankie can hear behind the door, whether he’s straining in his jeans just as Joel is, whether his ear is pressed against the crack just so he can hear what Santi is whispering to you both.

Pope grips one of your hips, and uses his other hand to line himself up at your entrance. He uses his tip to spread your slick around a little more until you whine again, fisting the sheets.

‘Please, Santi, please -’

And he needs no more encouragement, sinking all the way in on the first thrust. You cry out into the mattress, your sounds coming out choked, overwhelmed as he sets a relentless pace.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he hisses out behind you, neither of you able to get more words out.

You quickly lose yourself to the feel of him pumping in and out, every part of you wound up tight, hot. You can feel yourself squeezing him already, making his hips stutter. Joel notices, too. You wonder whether he remembers Frankie is outside, as well, because he manages to force out in a low grumble -

‘How does she feel?’

Santi gathers your hair up in a fist, bringing your face up from the sheets just so they can hear you better. He grits his teeth, tries to stutter out his answer -

‘So - fucking - good -’ and at this, a delicious smile sweeps across Joel’s face. He’s proud. You moan even louder and manage to garble out a daddy, which makes him positively grin.

‘Atta girl, baby,’ he says to you, before turning back to Santi, ‘Just good?’

You and Santi both hear the prod in his words, and it shoots another thrill through you to remember just how much control Joel has; how he wants him to tell him what he already knows, to prove that his worth.

‘Not just good,’ Santi groans, ‘Fuckin’ perfect. So tight. So warm. She’s clenchin’ me already, makin’ me feel like a fuckin’ teenager,’ he laughs around a puff of air, before leaning back into you. ‘Tómatelo con calma, hermosa - quiero que esto dure.’ You moan again at his words, as they spark the opposite of their desired effect.

‘Shit,’ Santi chuckles out, ‘God, Joel. Pussy like I’ve never felt. And so responsive, too.’ To prove his point Santi lands a firm smack on your ass and you yelp, pulsing around him, biting your lip. He moans behind you. ‘Don’t know how you ever get anything done,’ he bites out, ‘I’d never be able to leave her alone.’

You glow under Santi’s praise and Joel’s warming stare, and push yourself up loosely onto your elbows as Santi returns both of his hands to your hips. You push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Santi gasps, before reaching around you to rub desperately at your clit. Your moans bounce off the walls, sharp gasps and whines melting into begging -

‘Please, Santi - fuck - oh my god, oh my god, please - ‘m so close. So close -’

‘Gonna come again, baby?’ He coos from above you. You nod furiously.

‘Yes,’ you gasp out, ‘God, please Santi, fuckin’ me so good -’

With a grunt, Santi hauls you upwards so your back is flush against his chest. He fucks into you harshly, fingers still working your clit, his other hand pinching and twisting a nipple as he kisses and bites his way along your neck, you shoulder, below your ear.

‘Good girl,’ he says, and your head dips back onto his shoulder, mouth open in a sob because he feels so good -

Santi grips your chin again, yanking your face down and towards Joel.

‘Look at your daddy,’ he snaps at you, ‘You look at your daddy when you come for me.’

And you do. You can barely keep your eyes open as your body gives out, loud, broken moans escaping your mouth, Santi and daddy alternating somewhere in there as Santi fucks you through it, fingers still on your clit as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder -

‘Good - fucking - girl.’

And you see even Joel’s eyes close momentarily, his hands clenching to fists on the arms of the chair, a growl of desperation only you can hear tumbling out of his chest.

Santi is relentless as he chases his own release, but you’re so tight around him that he refocuses his efforts.

‘Again, baby,’ he orders, ‘Give me another. I can feel it. Come on. It’s right there. You gotta give it to me, hermosa -’

But you whine against him, twitching, trembling, sobbing through the overstimulation, unsure where the boundary between pleasure and pain is. You shake your head, try to catch your breath.

‘Too much, Santi, too much,’ you cry, ‘Can’t - don’t know -’

‘You can, baby,’ he breathes, voice like steel, and you whimper. That tone so similar to Joel’s, how he knows, how now Santi knows, that you can.

At his insistence, you tumble off the cliff again, weakly calling his name as a gush of arousal spills onto his lap, as you pulse and contract around his cock. He releases a strangled groan, his hips stuttering, his breathing heavy. He peers over your shoulder at Joel.

‘Where do you want it?’ he gasps.

‘Inside her.’ Joel growls, and you moan again as Santi sheathes himself to the hilt and comes and comes and comes. You feel him fill you, his dick pulsing and twitching deep in your pussy, and he sags as he begins to leak out. You both hit the mattress, Santi just about propping himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you. You both breathe heavily for a second, until he moves your hair from your face and touches your cheek.

‘You okay?’ he rasps, throat dry. You chuckle breathily.

‘Yes.’ You sigh. Santi licks his lips and laughs quietly, too, shifting gently to slip out of you. You both groan, trying to catch your breath again. Your limbs are liquid, your body heavy, and somewhere in your dazed state you feel him dip a kiss to your shoulder blade before using his tongue to soothe the bite mark he’d left earlier.

You turn your face towards him as you feel his weight leave the bed. He smiles at you, muttering something about getting himself cleaned up before gesturing to the opposite way you're facing. You turn your head to find Joel, pulled to his full height, standing at the foot of the bed, still fully fucking clothed.

You slowly rise to your knees on the mattress, and Joel smiles at you, lifting a hand to settle against your cheek. You lean into it, turning your head to kiss his palm.

‘You okay, baby?’ he asks softly.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You breathe.

He nods, pleased.

‘Good. On your knees, on the floor for me, baby girl.’ He says.

You pull your languid limbs off the bed and settle on your knees on the floor, waiting patiently for him. You rest your palms on top of your thighs, tingling and relaxed, and wait for your instruction. It comes before Santi even leaves the bathroom.

‘Mouth.’ Joel says, and you shuffle forward towards him, hungry hands grappling with his belt as he chuckles down at you. ‘My eager girl.’ And you shine a blinding smile up at him.

You whip his belt off, launch it across the room, and make quick work of the button and zipper, pulling his jeans down his thighs so just his boxers are left. You lick your teeth at the sight of his barely contained cock, the front of his underwear stretched, the tip of his dick peeking from above his waistband, leaking and swollen. You rise up on your knees as you reach for the band, lifting your eyes to Joel’s as you pull his underwear down, smiling again as one of his big hands comes to rest at the back of your head, impatient already.

His boxers and jeans pulled down, you take Joel into your hand, pumping him gently before pulling the tip to your mouth, blowing on it lightly before pressing a kiss to the weeping slit. Joel sucks a breath in through his teeth, and presses his hips forward, sinking his cock past your lips. You take him gratefully, opening as wide as you can, your tongue soft and firm against him, tracing and twirling as you hollow your cheeks.

‘So good t’me.’ Joel breathes out, pushing a little further, just to hit the back of your throat and hear you choke lightly. You moan around his length, your eyelids flickering shut as he begins to fuck your throat slowly, making sure to feel every inch you allow him access to.

Santi emerges from the bathroom, and he can’t help but grin as he takes in the sight of you on your knees before Joel, swiping a hand over his mouth to try and hide his mirth. You flutter your eyelashes at him, and he shakes his head before crossing the room to sit in the chair Joel was in before. He crosses an ankle over his knee, leaning back to watch you both.

You hum around Joel and begin to bob up and down his length, using your fist to pump what you don’t have the patience to take in your mouth. Joel tangles his fingers in your hair and groans as he feels your tongue dip into his slit, slip over the sensitive spot on the underside of his head.

‘Fuckin’ hell,’ he grunts, ‘Putting on a show for Santi, are we?’

You smile wickedly around his cock, before taking him all the way to the base on your own. You hold your head there as long as possible as Joel chokes out moan after moan, and from behind you Santi mumbles -

‘Fuck, Joel. She’s leaking all over the floor.’

Joel huffs out a breath, pulling you off his cock. He peers down at you, eyes dark.

‘Are you, baby?’ He asks.

You wiggle your ass to feel what even you hadn’t noticed, too caught up in sucking his dick. A small puddle of you and Santi has been dripping down onto the hardwood where you kneel. More slick pulses out of you at the realisation.

‘Yes, daddy,' you sigh, and Joel’s eyes roll up into his head. He yanks your hair roughly to bring you to your feet.

‘Get up,’ he snarls, ‘And get on the bed.’

Joel all but throws you back on to the mattress, and it happens in such a rush that you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. You wrack your brain as Joel undresses before you, his eyes scouring your body, taking in the marks, the bruises already forming, how your hair is wet with sweat at the roots, how your pussy still drips onto the sheets -

And then you get it. Joel is getting off on it - on the thought of you being full, used, wanted, shown off -

Once he is down to just his skin, he crawls over you, lifting and pushing your hips to move you up the bed. He dips his head to lick and kiss and bite at your neck, and your hands flutter around him, touching him everywhere. His back, his arms, his neck, his face, scraping your nails down his exposed skin. He makes his way to your mouth, devouring you - all tongue and teeth until he rears back to look at you, sprawled and gorgeous below him.

‘So beautiful, baby,’ he groans, ‘So perfect like this. Open your mouth for me.’ You do as he says, flattening your tongue out against your lower lip for good measure. He groans again, and then leans forward to spit in your mouth. You swallow it down hungrily.

‘Thank you, daddy.’ You say, and he leans back down to kiss you again before retracing down your neck, your collarbones, your breasts -

‘Such a good girl, rememberin’ your manners,’ he grumbles, ‘So good, takin’ Santi, look so good when you’re takin’ his cock.’ You whimper as he bites down on each of your nipples, soothing them with open-mouthed kisses. He kisses down your stomach, around your heat, nipping the inside of your thighs, making sure to leave marks, breathing hotly onto your skin.

‘But now you’ve made a mess, baby, haven’t you?’ He says. You mewl at the ceiling, clutching the sheets around you as Joel blows on your clit, hovering just above where you need him. ‘Words, baby.’ He reminds you, with a sharp slap to your thigh.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You cry.

‘And what do we do when we make a mess?’ He asks.

‘Clean it up, daddy.’ You pant.

‘Good girl,’ he coos, ‘Good girl.’ Before he licks a fat, hot stripe from your leaking hole up to your clit.

You gasp at the sensation, your back arching off the bed, the coil in your stomach already wound impossible tight, every part of your body still so sensitive. Joel works with abandon at your pussy, flattening his tongue to lap at you, tasting the mixture of you and Santi, slurping around your opening before focusing his efforts on your bundle of nerves, sharpening his tongue to work it in tight circles, then figure eights. Your hips buck strongly against him, and he secures a forearm against your lower belly to stop you struggling. He hums against you as your hand winds its way into his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp.

‘Daddy, daddy, daddy, so good - fuck - so good - tongue feels so good, baby -’ You babble to him, to yourself, and Joel lowers his mouth, working his tongue inside you, grinding his nose against your clit. Your shoulders shoot off the bed, and you pull his hair now, biting a curse between your teeth. Joel doesn’t let up for a second, just moves his forearm so he can force your upper body back down onto the bed. Your fingers loosen their grip on his hair, coming up instead to scrub at your face as moan after moan escapes you.

A groan echoes from the chair, and you flick your gaze behind you to see Santi watching greedily, palming himself through his boxers. The sight only serves to work you up more, your core tightening and tightening and tightening, an unbearable heat settling where Joel’s tongue is, but you need him deeper -

‘You close, baby?’ He mumbles against you.

‘Y-es.’ You force out, as he pinches your clit between his lips.

‘What do you need?’ He asks.

‘Fuck - your fingers, Joel, please -’

Joel obliges, slipping one, and then two digits into your cunt easily, fucking them in and out as he licks again at your nub, swirling and sucking and lapping -

‘Come on, baby,’ he groans, ‘Give me what I want.’

The forearm he has braced against your middle barely keeps your back on the bed as you come, hard and loud against his tongue. Your whole body twitches, so warm, as he laps and laps and laps at you, as you beg him to stop, to let you breathe for just a second - but he doesn’t, he never does, just eats until he’s had his fill, until he’s satisfied.

When he lifts his head from between your thighs, his beard and cheeks are glistening with your come. He releases his grip on you and begins to crawl upwards again, and you clamp your thighs shut to stop him from provoking anymore overstimulation. He laughs down at you, kneeling back to yank your legs back open with his strong hands.

‘We’re not done with you, yet, baby,’ he coos, ‘I ain’t had all my fun.’

You shake your head at him, pitiful, your lower lip jutting out. He pouts back at you.

‘You don’t want daddy’s cock, darlin’?’ He asks. You can’t even find it in you to hesitate.

‘I do,’ you cry, ‘Just don’t wanna be touched anymore.’

Joel nods at your words, strokes your cheek, kisses your forehead.

‘It’s okay, baby girl,’ he murmurs, ‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. Won’t make you come again if you don’t want to.’ Liar. He knows just as well as you do what his cock does to you. But still, he pauses, makes sure you’re looking at him. ‘Can I still have this pussy, angel?’

You blink up at him. Something warm curls in your stomach. Relief, you think, that he’s heard you, understands - that you know - even with Santi and Frankie here - you could stop this at any time.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You say.

He smiles, wraps you up in a tender kiss.

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ He murmurs as he lines himself up at your entrance, and begins to sink in.

Joel tugs at the backs of your thighs, hitching them to your chest so he can watch as he splits you open. His eyes flick from your cunt to your face, the glistening slit stretching to accommodate him and the way your jaw falls loose in a silent ‘o’, your brows brunched, your eyes rolling and falling shut. The slip of him is sinful tonight - your orgasms leaving your body like jelly, Santi’s cock preparing you for Joel’s thickness. But he still moves toe-curlingly slow, inch after inch after inch providing a delicious stretch. He groans as he feels you flutter and tense and contract around him, still unable to breathe, unable to speak. Only he can get you like this - not a babble slipping past your lips, unable to do anything but feel him. Joel pants, moaning again as he bottoms out, tip kissing your cervix. He runs a finger over your cheek, letting you adjust further.

‘Talk to me, baby,’ he urges.

He rocks his hips back and forth, no more than an inch, but it punches out the breath you were holding.

‘Fuck, Joel,’ the whisper all you can get out. He smiles at you.

‘Yeah, angel?’

‘So big.’ you breathe, shifting your hips so he can sink even further in.

‘There she is,’ he huffs, pulling out again, ‘There’s my girl.’

Joel rocks forward again, and you cry out around him, the noise setting him off into a languid pace which allows him to hit every single spot inside you. You can’t bear to touch your own body, frightened of sending yourself into the void, but you do touch Joel. You clutch at his biceps, his tight forearms, nails leaving little crescent moons wherever you grip. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, swipe the lines on his forehead, the stubble on his cheeks. He twists his head to kiss and suck at your thumb, and you mewl at him, eyes wide and glassy, so full of him you don’t know what to do.

You’re barely aware, even, of the slick sound of skin and Santi’s soft groans as he works his cock in the chair, caught up in the intensity of you and Joel fucking, his chest flushed and shining with sweat.

There’s still not a noise, not a peep from the other side of the door.

All you can hear is Joel; his deep breathing, low grunts and moans, his whispered praises, and the startlingly wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. You can’t stop the contractions that build inside you, and every time one ripples through your pussy Joel’s head drops a little lower towards your chest.

Your orgasm feels deafeningly close and impossibly strong, brought on by every shift of Joel’s dick. You try to breathe through it, your moans getting louder, soaking the room with sound, but it’s hopeless.

Joel dips his head to kiss you softly, swallowing your sounds for just a minute. When he pulls away, you teeter on the edge, everything feeling heavy and blurred and blazingly good.

‘Joel.’ You whisper urgently.

‘I know, baby,’ he says, ‘I can feel it. You’re taking it so well, sweet girl. So good f’me. I know it feels good. You can let go. You can do it. Come on.’

You all but scream against him, your orgasm ripping through your body, every muscle on fire. Your legs shake and your arms tighten around his neck as you shiver and twitch around him, and he moans, long and loud, like you’ve never heard him do before.

As he fucks you through it, the relief, the pleasure catches up with you, and tears swell and pour out of your eyes.

‘So good,’ you sob, ‘So good daddy, God -’

Joel coos back at you. ‘Atta girl, baby. Knew you could do it. Knew you could give me one more. And it was so pretty, baby.’ he grins at you, before picking up his pace. You whine beneath him.

‘’S okay,’ he promises, ‘Where do you want me, darlin’?’ and you huff at him, as if you could ever give a different answer.

‘Inside. Come inside me.’ You say. And Joel crowds you out, pushing all the way in so you’re moaning again, pumping in the deepest part of you as his hips flex against yours, his head in your shoulder. You stroke his curls, breathing deeply as he relaxes.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he mumbles against your skin. He pulls his head away, blinking. You giggle up at him.

‘Y’alright?’ you ask, and he smiles back.

‘Fuckin’ more’n alright,’ he laughs, ‘Are you?’

‘Yeah,’ you say, ‘Real good.’

Joel slides himself out of you, both grunting at the loss, and he flicks a look over your shoulder.

‘You good, Pope?’ He asks, grinning at the other man. You twist your head to look at him too, giggling again when you take in his fucked out face, exhausted in the corner, his stomach covered in come. Santi can’t help but grin back.

‘Yeah, great.’ he answers wryly, and you giggle even more.

Joel laughs with you, rolling onto his back and pulling you against his shoulder, kissing your hair.

‘Did so good, baby.’ he reminds you again as you feel him begin to dribble out of you.

Santi stands with a groan, and makes his way back towards the bathroom, muttering something about having to clean himself up again.

You press your face to Joel’s neck with a smile, leaving soft kisses, only coming away when you hear the jingle of a belt buckle. Santi is dressing at the end of the bed, just short of pulling his top on. You frown at him.

‘You’re leaving?’ you ask. He looks up, smirking again.

‘Not yet, querida,’ he says, ‘Just cold. Besides, there’s still someone we need to look after.’

You watch him as he buckles his belt with baited breath, curious as to how this will play out. You aren’t sure what exactly will happen next - whether Frankie will come in, or who will… deal with him. Your breath hitches in your throat before Joel answers your questions for you.

‘Go check on Frankie, baby girl,’ he murmurs, stroking your hair back. You bury your face in his chest again, and breathe in deeply. You scrunch the sheets at his waist in your fist, and Santi chuckles at your reluctance to leave the bed. You plant a kiss to Joel’s exposed skin before pulling yourself away to sit up on the bed. Planting your feet and gathering your strength before standing. You pick up Joel’s flannel from the floor and slip your arms into it, bundling yourself against the chill you now also feel as you pad towards the door. You feel Joel and Santi’s eyes on you, silent, assessing.

When you reach the bedroom door, you touch it gingerly, breathing deeply. You feel… nervous. How would Frankie react to everything he’d heard? You knew he’d done things like it before, but you knew you would be so… angry. Jealous and frustrated. You bite your lip, and slowly pull the door back.

Frankie is exactly where Santi left him, on his knees a step back from the threshold. Your breath catches in your throat as you take him in.

At some point during it all, he'd removed his cap. It’s tossed on the floor a few feet away, and his hair is… fucked. Strands stick out on all sides, his curls mussed and frazzled. Sweat is gathered at his temples, and his skin has a warm, glossy sheen to it. All across his face, right down to the hollow of his throat peeking above his t-shirt. His lips are swollen and bitten, wet with spit as his tongue pokes out to lick them again at the sight of you, and his eyes… Eyes so dark they’re almost black, pupils blown so wide they just sparkle back at you. Deep, dangerous, and hungry.

He’s ravenous as he looks you up and down - your smooth skin, naked thighs, bare pussy - still dripping with come - up to your exposed tits, bitten and bruised, your neck, your face… totally fucked out, swollen lips, smudged makeup, your own blown out eyes. He moans as he takes you in, and you go weak at the knees at the sight of his hands raking up and down his jean-clad thighs. His dick is straining against the denim, against the claw of his zipper, and as you look closer, you see a wet patch much larger than just precum darkening the fabric. Your cheeks flush at the sight, at the knowledge - Frankie had come in his pants just listening to the three of you.

You breathe out shakily and get to your knees, so close to him you're almost touching. You reach a hand out to cup his cheek, and he leans into it, breathing in and out deeply, closing his eyes.

‘You okay, baby?’ You ask him softly, voice low. Frankie groans again.

‘Yes.’ He croaks out.

You don’t know if you’re allowed, but you figure you’ll find out soon enough. You lean forward, tits spilling out of Joel’s shirt, and place your hands on his thighs. His breathing sputters, and his head drops forward, but not before you can catch his lips in a sweet, soft kiss. Just like you’ve wanted to, for so long.

He sighs against you, lips seeking yours. But he seems so exhausted, so on edge, that he can hardly pour any fire into it. His tongue searches your mouth, almost like a plea.

Please. Please.

As though he hears it too, Joel says quietly from the bed -

‘Help him, baby.’

You pull away from Frankie’s kiss and lean your forehead to his.

‘What do you need?’ You whisper.

He looses a ragged sigh, too turned on to even know himself.

‘Can I touch you?’ He breathes.

You nod, and he reaches out his hands - carefully, gently - to skirt over and up your waist, to touch your stomach, to skate over your tits. You wince, once, as he traces over one of your nipples, and he freezes. You smile shyly at him.

‘It’s okay,’ you whisper, ‘’M just sore.’ He nods, and continues to touch, caressing your neck, thumbing your jaw, your cheekbone, stroking your brow. He’s so tender, so Frankie, that you feel tears well behind your eyelids. As though he can sense it, tell the gravity of the moment, he drops his hands, skirting them along your thighs, drifting towards your hips, thumbs rubbing the sides of your tummy, before creeping towards your heat.

‘Is this okay?’ He asks.

‘Yes.’ You sigh, this time against his mouth, drawing his lips back to yours.

When Frankie dips one of his hands to sweep through your folds, you both moan. Low and long against each other.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes against you, stalling. Slowly, slowly, he brings his coated fingers to his mouth, so close to you that you can smell it, the mix of you and Joel and Santi, and he slips the digits between his lips. He holds your eye the whole time, devouring, tongue swiping over every knuckle, every valley, until they’re clean. He releases them with a pop. You groan, wanting him, impossibly, and you ask again.

‘What do you need, Frankie?’

‘You.’ He says. Frankie swoops forward again to kiss you, one hand now at the back of your head, one back between your legs, gathering the mess between your thighs. You rock against his hand as he parts you, feels you, and you reach forward for his belt, his button, his zipper, undoing all three in record time. You slip a hand into his jeans, under his boxers, impatient to feel him, all of him, and he gasps against you, stilling his movements. He groans your name, almost in warning.

‘It’s okay,’ you tell him, stroking his hair soothingly, ‘You’ve waited so long, Frankie. It’s okay.’

You take your hand out from his pants, and join his at your pussy, just for a moment, just to collect what’s left and what’s already pooling from you again, before returning your hand to his cock, using the combined juices to move your hand easily up and down. Frankie moans brokenly against you, his body slumping forwards.

You can’t see him like this, but you can feel him - and Frankie is big. Not quite as big as Joel, but thicker and pulsing against your palm, already wet from his come and what you have just provided him. You swipe your thumb over his tip, collecting his precum to spread down his length, and he jerks against you at the movement.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he whispers, ‘I can’t, I’m not gonna last, hermosa -’

You shush him again, kissing at his temple, his brow, his cheek, before nudging to his lips.

‘It’s okay, Frankie,’ you say again. ‘I want you to come. You deserve to come. You’ve been so good for us.’

And it’s all Frankie needs as he moans loudly against your lips, body seizing and relaxing harshly against yours as he spills himself over your fist, over his jeans, over your thighs and the top of your mound. There is so much of him it’s almost comical, and you laugh softly as he finally starts to relax.

He looks up at you shyly, questioningly.

‘Look at you, Frankie,’ you breathe, and he flushes right to the tops of his ears. ‘So good.’ You murmur.

‘All for you,’ he whispers so only you can hear. He holds your gaze, trying to communicate everything he’s been thinking behind that door. ‘All for you.’

You lean forward and kiss him again. Try to forget, for now, the scratch of those unanswered questions, what it could all mean. Later.

‘Come on,’ you say, taking his hand and rising from the floor. He follows and returns your smile. ‘Let's get you cleaned up.’

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia x reader #joel miller x frankie morales x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Charles Leclerc - Arthur, you are not French...yeah Charles, drag his ass!

I’ve been excited to write this chapter! I know that reader is a Red Bull driver, but I am a Tifosi through and through. Charles holds such a special place in my heart (but so does Max). I feel like one of those “breaking my silence – how I got into F1,” low and behold, I got into the sport from that one Ferrari thirst trap where Charles is lying on the couch. Yeah, you know, that one.

Anywho, I write these little things before I even get to writing the story and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going with it. I know it's not Christmas yet, but the people spoke - SO HERE WE GO!

Sadly, the tag list is closed to do us reaching the 50 people mark! I never thought that I’d get there though with my story! So thank you to every one of you for making that happen!

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

Your beanie had started to itch. You had needed it outside due to the cold weather, but now that you were in the car with the heat cranked, it was starting to get a little too warm. As you pulled up to the red light, your hand quickly yanked the hat off. Not to your surprise, your hair was sticking in all directions. That’s ok, you could fix it before you walked into the house. The light turned green, and you had to remind yourself that this was a regular car, on a regular street. Not a hybrid-engine-ran rocket ship that exceeded 300 kilometers per hour on sweet Grand Prix asphalt.

This year, you had finally accepted Arthur’s invitation for Christmas. Earlier, you had done Christmas morning and afternoon with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. It was everything you could have wished for. And now you were going to spend the rest of the evening with your best friend and his family. You were a tab bit nervous. Sure, you had met them on a handful of occasions, but you tried not to get too close. They were always at grand prixes for Arthur, not you.

You glanced at the presents that were stacked on the passenger side. The most important one, however, was placed in a bag on the floor. You were not about to let that fall over and possibly break. You knew it was made to be sturdy, but you couldn’t be sure. Arthur had given you the gate key. You pulled up to the little black box and pressed the numbers. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was just Charles’s and Arthur’s racing numbers squished together.

Arthur had also reminded you that Lorenzo was not going to be joining due to him being at his wife’s family’s for the holiday. That was one less person to impress you had told yourself.

You pulled into their driveway and parked your car. It was not as impressive at Charles’s custom 488 Ferrari Pista Spider. It wasn’t as if you were almost drooling at the sight of it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably be too scared to drive it to actually enjoy it. Max also had a Ferrari, maybe he’d let you drive it.

In a parking lot and not exceeding 5 kph. You snorted. Yep, that was Max.

You did however, have your eye on two special cars. But you wanted to wait a bit before purchasing. You Pinterest board was full of different ideas, but you had to be careful. Maybe Christian could help you out with purchasing. You technically hadn’t bought this car, it was a gift from Lorenzo. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it might be nice to have more than one car. Besides, multiple drivers had multiple cars. You’d just join their ranks.

Juggling the presents, you walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Your face was hardly visible over the tops of the boxes. The door opened and a familiar voice sounded.

“Mon Dieu, let me help you.” Presents were being taken from the big stack.

“Thank you Charles.” You prided yourself on being one of the few people who could recognize the difference between Arthur’s and Charles’s voices. He didn’t reply as he took the presents farther into the house. You followed him through the door and toed off your shoes. Your eyes caught all the lights and decorations in the house. Growing up, you didn’t have such things. Your family always said that being in karting was always going to be your present. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no cookies for Santa and no tree to decorate.

As you walked more into the warm house, the decorations just kept getting better. Where Max’s house was decorated by Kelly who like a clean Christmas aesthetic, the Leclerc household leaned towards the warmer decorations. The lights didn’t necessarily match and flickered colorful light. The stockings weren’t the same color: they showed personality that matched their owner. Even the ornaments weren’t all from the same container. You found Charles staring down at the presents that he had taken from you.

“Who are these for?” he turned his head to look at you.

You snorted, “They’re for your family.” His eyes widened as he rubbed his chin.

“You didn’t have to.”

You only shrugged as you began to take off your coat, “I felt like I did. You all have been so kind to invite me here on a holiday that I couldn’t come empty handed.” Charles gestured for your jacket and you gave it to him.

“You can look around some more if you’d like to. Arthur and maman will be back from the store soon.” Your cheeks heated at the thought of him catching you ogling at his home. You shook the thought away and looked at everything a little bit closer.

Like all homes seemed to have, there was a wall filled with picture frames. Some were of each child; some had the full family. It was nice to see all 5 of them together in the center one. You cocked you head at one of them though. You all but tiptoed to get a closer look. It was one of Charles and Arthur, and then an unfamiliar but familiar man stood between them.

“That’s Jules. If you were wondering.”

You jumped in place, not noticed that he had snuck up behind you. You looked over and saw that a sad smile had graced his face. Arthur had told you little about him. Charles and Lorenzo would always have been much closer to him.

“I met him once. During karting,” you trailed off. Charles raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” It seemed as though the breath had been knocked out of him.

You gave him a comforting smile, “Yeah. My race was right after yours. I think it was back in 2010,” you looked back at the picture, “and you won that day. I watched him cheer for you like he was the proudest person there that day. He was in a racing suit and had a helmet. I thought that he had come straight from a race or something. But, I only remember wishing that I had someone there for me like you had.”

Charles now had a guess as to what day that was. He vaguely remembered finally beating Max and feeling so happy. But, he didn’t remember Jules having a helmet. He took the picture down so that the two of you could look closer. It was definitely not taken the day that you were talking about, but the way you talked about him intrigued Charles. He gave you a head nod, silently saying to continue.

“That day, I also won my race. It hadn’t been the easiest, but the boys were too busy pushing each other off that they didn’t even notice me. I was able to overtake and win. The boys though, weren’t the only ones who didn’t notice. My parents weren’t around when I looked for them. I must have turned around so many times, just trying to find them, but I never did. I had taken my kart back to my station when someone tapped me on the shoulder. He scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but he held my shoulder and told me that I did a great job.”

Your eyes were slightly watering at the confession. Charles just continued to look at you.

“I knew who he was. He was the man who always cheered for the Justin Bieber look-a-like who liked to push a certain Dutchman off the track, into a puddle, and claim it was just an inchident.” Charles snorted.

“I did not look like Justin Bieber.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” He gave you a look. “American expression. Anyway, after he said that he gave me a hug before my dad came stomping over, complaining about something, I don’t even remember. But all I know is that he made my entire day. My godfather wasn’t able to visit that much or come see me race. So, it was nice to have someone in my corner, even if they weren’t truly there for me.”

Charles hung the picture back on the wall. The two of you stood there for a quiet moment before Charles spoke up. “How’s your godfather?”

You inhaled sharply. “He died in 2020. Caught some illness in 2018 and wasn’t able to recover.”

It broke Charles’s heart to hear you talk about it so nonchalantly.

“Does Arthur know?”

You nodded your head. “He caught me crying the first year of his anniversary. Made me spill the beans about what happened. He thought he needed to go beat someone up.” You let out a wet chuckle. When did you even start crying? Looking at Charles, you saw that he was crying too. You continued, “Lorenzo, he, uh, died the day before I debuted in F2.”

Memories hit Charles like an 18-wheeler. That was you? He remembered that most of the F1 drivers had been invited since the F1 and F2 races were so close together. Hell, even Max was given the opportunity to give the winner the trophy. He remembers watching you dominate that race. He watched you offer that trophy to the sky. He saw a hunger that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He finally spoke up, “You were incredible.”

“Thank you,” you paused before adding, “he’d be proud of you. Jules, I mean.” You looked back at the picture and how it seemed right at home amongst the others.

“Lorenzo would be proud of you as well.” You flashed him a grateful smile, full of teeth. He mirrored, dimples prominent.

You threw your head back and laughed. Charles cocked his head.

“What’s the matter?” he barely got out as he began to laugh as well.

You poked his cheeks, “You and Thur have the same dimples.” Charles rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. You pouted. “Rude.”

He was about to reciprocate but the sound of the door opening caught the two of yours attention. Charles quickly pushed you into a dark room. You gave him a confused look before he put a finger to his lips. You smirked back and stayed silent.

Pascale walked in first followed by Arthur. Charles greeted his mother and then brother.

“I saw Y/n’s car in the driveway. Where is she?” Arthur looked around the house.

“She went to the bathroom, but hasn’t come back. I think I scared her off,” Charles faked a sad look.

Arthur flashed a comforting smile to his brother. “I’ll go find her. Hopefully she didn’t fall in or something.” That almost made you laugh.

Arthur flipped on the lights to the hallway. This was your chance. He barely got past the doorframe before you jumped out onto him.

His squeal echoed through the room, laughter following it. In your grand scheme, you had accidentally fallen on top of him. Your giggles continued as Arthur tried to push you off. He finally gave up after a few moments. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but honestly you didn’t care. You swear you heard a click of a camera, but you disregarded it.

“Are you done?” Arthur sarcastically asked.

“No, I’m actually quite comfortable. Thank you for asking though,” you smirked. After a few more moments later, Arthur quickly rolled you off and got up. You let out a huff before making grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled you up.

You were finally able to greet Pascale. She brought you into a hug and did the two kisses. You reciprocated. It came naturally after being teammates with Arthur for so long. You smiled at the memory of him doing it to you for the first time. He was so embarrassed after until you calmed him down enough to say that you didn’t mind. You knew it was a part of his culture and that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to do so.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You shot her a shy smile. She rubbed your back before exiting the hug.

“There is no need for thanks. Arthur has been begging for years.” A noise of protest rang through the air.

“I have not.”

“Non, it’s true. He has.” Charles looked at his brother. Arthur had a look of betrayal that sent you spiraling into another laughing fit.

By the time you were finished, Arthur gave you a look.

“Where’s you Christmas sweater?” You looked down at the one you were wearing. You thought it looked just fine. It was a nice dark green and Kelly had complimented you many times.

“I thought this looked nice?” You were beginning to doubt. Maybe you couldn’t do this Christmas thing.

Arthur shook his head before disappearing down a hallway.

You glanced at Charles and whispered, “I ruined it didn’t I?” You looked down at your feet.

“Non gosse, you didn’t ruin anything. Just look.” You looked back up and saw that Arthur now had another sweater in his hands. (translation : no kid)

“I can’t believe I forgot to give you this. Sorry Y/n, we normally wear ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters to celebrate. The one you have on is fine, but this is the Leclerc celebration now.” He all but shoved you towards a bathroom so that you could change. You slipped the other dark green sweater on after you took off your first one.

The front made you laugh. It wasn’t ugly per say, Arthur must have toned it down for you. On the front was the Grinch. It was actually kind of cute if you thought about it. You folded your first sweater and walked out. Now you noticed that Charles’s had a bright orange sweater with a gamer Santa on it; Arthur’s actually lit up; and Pascale had a cute one with a reindeer on it.

When he noticed your return, Arthur’s arms shot up. “Now you look festive!”

“How long did it take you to find that one TurTur?” You motioned your finger up and down, pointed at his sweater.

His arms crossed protectively around it as he let his jaw hang. “I’ll have you know that this is imported.”

You gave him a bombastic side eye. “Sure.”

Pascale clapped her hands, “Picture time by the tree!”

You kind of awkwardly stood there as she took pictures of the two boys. You warmly smiled as she gushed over the two of them. You made your way to the kitchen and picked up two bottles. Were these alcoholic? You squinted at the label.

“Y/n!” You froze and looked at the family of three. Arthur was snickering.

“You know you’re not allowed to drink yet.” You rolled your eyes.

Charles shot you a mischievous smile. “Gosse, come, we’ll send a picture to old Maxy. Maybe give him a heart attack.”

You smirked back as you walked with the two bottles. You posed in front of the tree with the glasses on either side of you. The four of you laughed as you set them down. You wanted to make a run for it, as to not ruin the pictures, but Pascale insisted that she wanted one of the three of you.

Your heart swelled as she took a picture of you in the middle of Arthur and Charles. She also insisted to get one of just you and Arthur. Your cheeks heated as you caught her muttering about a picture to show your kids one day. You only hoped that Arthur hadn’t heard.

He did and his heart soared at the thought.

Once the pictures were done, everyone was able to have a few snacks and drinks, yours of course being non-alcoholic.

Then it was time for the presents. The thing you were worried about the most. You soon found yourself seated on the floor in a half circle. Pascale was the only one in a chair, but you didn’t blame her. The boys were the ones to pass out the presents. To your surprise, you had received three presents. Your eyes wanted to water, but you blinked the tears away.

They all opened the ones from you first.

Arthur lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when he saw what you had gotten him. The two of you had been shopping earlier in the year, when you had come across a watch shop. Arthur had wanted to buy a specific one, but was heartbroken when they said that they were sold out. But, while Arthur was having a crisis about it, you secretly asked to be put on the waitlist. They had said that they couldn’t be 100 percent that you’d get one, but there was no harm in asking.

Surprisingly, when you got back for a small break, there was a package from the store waiting for you. You had also taken it to another watch store to have something added.

“Turn it over,” you whispered, scared of his next reaction. He inhaled sharply at what the engraving read.

January 25, 2020 – Best Friends for the Rest of Our Live, Keep at it TurTur!

Arthur quickly clamored over to you and wrapped you in a deep hug. Again, you heard the sound of a camera, but dismissed it.

Next Charles opened his. It wasn’t as sentimental as Arthur’s but you tried your best. Before hand, you had asked what type of jewelry Charles likes. You knew he was a ring and bracelet guy, but had rarely seen him with a necklace. So, you got him a simple one that he could wear with any outfit.

He thanked you with a warm smile.

Pascale was very happy with hers. Knowing that she had a hair salon, you googled many gift ideas for her. But every sing one of them to come up was always a pair of scissors. Wanting to do better, you did some more digging. Finally, you decided on one of those fancy circle vacuums that moves by itself. You knew how your back hurt after sweeping up a floor. You couldn’t imagine how her’s might feel. She also gave you a hug.

Now it was your turn.

The first present was from Arthur and it had you in tears. There in a rectangular box was a new pair of Lightning McQueen crocs.

“You know this is like my third pair right?”

He only nodded, “Yes, but are those pairs signed by Lightning McQueen himself?” Your eyes bulged as you turned them over.

You were expecting Owen Wilson’s signature, but when you read it, you laughed even harder. There on the bottom, in fancy script, was Charles’s signature. You looked over at Charles as you wiped your eyes.

“I’m honored sir.”

Charles rolled his eyes, and touched his heart, as to accept the thanks. His present wasn’t as funny, but it was appreciated. You guessed that Arthur had told him what your favorite restaurant was because his gift was a hefty gift card. Your eyes widened when you saw the total.

Pascale’s was very sentimental though. In her present were multiple pictures in frames. Some you noticed that she must have gotten from the internet or had Arthur reach out to Vito. The one that made you tear up was one of the last pictures taken of you and Lorenzo. Your smile was so bright as you held you trophy. You were looking into the camera, but Lorenzo was looking and smiling down at you. Your fingers traced his face.

You placed the pictures down and brought her into a giant hug. After you were done, you wiped your eyes, overcome with emotion. Arthur clapped his hands to bring everyone’s attention to him. You almost jumped out of your skin.

“All right, party time!” He raised his arms and started to walk toward the kitchen.

Your eyes widened as you remembered something. “Wait!”

The three of them stared at you. You inhaled.

“I have one more thing. For all three of you.” They looked at you with a puzzled look. You walked over to the counter where you had placed the black bag that you came with. You gestured for them to come over.

Arthur cocked his head, “Y/n, why’d you bring a helmet bag? We swapped helmets already.” His accent got thicker as he got more confused.

You shook your head slightly as you let out a shaky exhale. You carefully started to unzip the bag. It was true, what Arthur said. The contents were a helmet.

“Gosse, is this your new helmet for next year? It’s very outdated and I don’t think this is safe, ” Charles questioned, confused as to why you’d bring a helmet to Christmas.

However, Pascale let out a gasp as her eyes danced over the helmet, now in your hands. She put her hands to her mouth. She had recognized it immediately.

“Is this?” The rest of the question went unsaid, but you knew what she was going to say. You nodded you head and handed it to her. She turned it around, expecting all the angles. She let out a wet laugh as she carefully and slowly handed it over to Charles. Arthur stood close, looking at it as well.

“Arthur, before you got here, I was telling Charles of how I was able to meet your godfather,” you started. “And I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for his encouragement. I knew that he had come straight from a race, because he was still wearing his suit and he carried a helmet.”

Charles made a confused face, “But he didn’t have a helmet. His hands were both empty, because he caught Arthur when he ran over to him after he showed up.” You could tell that his mind was trying to connect the dots.

“Well. He wouldn’t have had the helmet,” you trailed off. Arthur’s head shot up.

“Because he gave it to you,” Arthur finished. Charles inhaled sharply as he looked over the protective gear in his hands.

Pascale had come close to you, a hand around your shoulder that rubbed up and down, trying to give some comfort.

The two boys looked as if they were going to cry. Charles let Arthur hold it.

“How? Why?” Charles questioned, tears threatening to fall.

“Well, I thought it had gotten destroyed or thrown away. I left it at my parent’s house, and when I told them I was moving out for reasons, they didn’t react well.” You didn’t want to give too much away. “I was sure that they were going to burn all of my things. But, I went back to see just in case. I was mostly correct; except they didn’t touch my closet. It was hiding in the back behind some clothes.” You remembered crying when you found it, holding it close for comfort. It had been one of the few things that you took from the house back to your apartment in Nice.

“I also wanted to bring it back, where it belongs.”

Charles glanced at you and then the helmet between Arthur’s fingers. “But, he gave it to you. You need to keep it.”

You shook your head. “Jules told me to keep it safe and to hold onto it for safe keeping. I always thought that I’d be able to give it back to him one day. I guess this is the closest thing I can do.”

Arthur gave the helmet back to his brother and walked over to you. You looked into his big blue eyes, filled with tears. Unable to hold back, he tucked his face into your neck, holding you tight. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks.

You knew that Arthur always felt bad about not being as close to his godfather, like Charles and Lorenzo had been. He had been 15 when Jules died, and you always wished that the family had had more time with him. Pressure was added on your other side. Looking over slightly, your eyes caught sight of Charles’s brown hair. You managed to put your other arm around him. You held the two brothers close, your heart melting.

Is this what a family is supposed to feel like?

Max’s family was a different dynamic. Yes, they enjoyed hugs and being close, but it wasn’t like this where you could hold each other for hours. Well, maybe Max would let you, he was so overdue for a giant group hug.

Arthur couldn’t get over the fact that you were so close. He hoped that you didn’t hear his heart racing. He’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. His tears had dried up, but he never wanted to let you go. Your heart was too big and too fragile for anyone else to have it. But here you were, opening it up to his family. He couldn’t have asked for someone better to hold your place in his heart. He could only dream that you held him close to your heart, as he did with you to his.

You would never tell him, but you did.

Charles on the other hand could not stop the tears. He wondered how long you had waited. Shy, quiet you. Before this, he had seen you a couple of times before with Max at the beginning of the break. He’d often run into the two of you shopping or getting groceries. You’d always find a way to give a small wave, before turning to do something else while Max talked to him. He wondered what was so special about you. Max, in all his life, had never looked at something as he looked at you. It was different than the way he looked at Kelly. Heck, he even looked a Penelope differently. Charles had rolled his eyes a few more times than he’d like to admit whenever Arthur would bring you up in conversation. But now, as you tried to comfort him and his brother, he finally understood. You were the family that they were missing.

Pascale watched as the three of you broke your little hug. Smiles adorned your faces as you held the other close. She wished Lorenzo would have been here to meet you. She had a feeling that he and Charlotte would like you, as her other two sons did.

Their little celebration started moments after, the helmet at the center. Your smile never left your face for the rest of the night. You were sad that they didn’t let you sneak in one sip of the bottled drink.

“It’s probably not even good,” you told them as you took a sip of your drink.

“Y/n it is good. We French know what good alcohol is,” he took a sip. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as you saw Charles gawk at him.

“Arthur, you are not French,” you watched as Charles put an arm around Arthur’s neck. You were quick to grab his drink so it wouldn’t stain the carpet. “Yeah Charles, drag his ass!”

Arthur held out a hand, dramatically going down. “My best friend betraying me for my brother. Could this day get any worse?”

“Charles, you should have heard all the times he said that he was French when we would do videos.” You smirked evilly at the two.

“Y/n! You weren’t supposed to tell him!”

“Arthur, how many times to I have to tell you? WE ARE NOT FRENCH, WE ARE MONAGUESQE!!

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost @misartymis @boiohboii @alexander-hamilhoe @jayda12 @indesicivelyconfuzzled @fangirl125reader @itscrzy @xcharlottemikaelsonx @fionaschicken @torchbearerkyle @ineedafictionalman @loaksmuntxa @classiclitfreak @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense @luisie @jayda12 @comfortzonequeen @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @inejghafawifesblog

ATTENTION: TAG LIST IS CLOSED

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elliespet · 5 months

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camgirl!abby, camgirl!reader, pervbff!ellie

laying between abby’s legs with your own draped over her strong thighs, her chest pressed so safely against your back. your head resting on her shoulder as she kisses the side of your face, cooing sweet nothings in your ear.

her phone positioned to get the most perfect shot. right under your necks, to capture everything people wanted to see. “send some more gifts if you guys think we can get one more out of her,” she speaks into the air and it settles next to your ears. you heard her, of course you wanted to tell her you couldn’t do it anymore, but you couldn’t.

mouth dry and brain fuzzy, you couldn’t remember the last time you looked at her. abby, the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, torturing you? Who would’ve thought! Surely not ellie, dina.. not one soul. Or so you thought.

neither of you could keep track of how many times you came on the pretty pink sheets she had you splayed out across, but someone else could. On that little glowing device, someone was counting.

just as requested, someone did gift more. more than enough more than abby thought anyone would. who would spend so much money on watching her play with her pretty girlfriend just for fun? some creep, probably. the donation was pretty inconspicuous. no message, just another $25 into the bank. they were just ‘user207399’, non-identifiable.

on the other side, the so called user could tell exactly who was streaming. those pretty thighs and that smooth like silk voice they could pin from miles away. ellie, with her fingers tucked inside herself and eyes squinted, phone set right in front of her face. ellie, who surely has came just as much as you by now.

abby’s best friend, who she’d never suspect, getting off to her pushing that horrible vibrator against your overstimulated bud. desperately she wanted it to be her head. abby’s ring adorned hand tangled in her hair pushing her mouth up against your clit. her tongue being the one you were grinding against and letting her taste everything.

it’s been months. she had found the two of you a few weeks after you started, eyes widened and jaw dropped noticing the oddly familiar flex of muscles from the bigger woman in the video. the all too recognizable birth mark fixated on the inner thigh of the other girl in front the camera.

abby pumping her strap into you and your sweet voice spilling out of her phones speakers, bouncing off the walls of her dorm. frankly, if you were there, you would’ve laughed at how fast she shut off her phone and threw it across the room.

that night may have altered her brain chemistry for maybe the rest of her life. of course she had always had the smallest crush on both you and abby, bringing home girls who hold the same characteristics as one of you. if it wasn’t a girl with blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, it was one with ten times the muscle mass she had. if it wasn’t a girl with the same big doll eyes and long lashes as you, it was one with an ass almost as good as yours.

she tried her best to get back into her regular routine, bringing a new girl to her place every other day. it wasn’t working, her mind always wandering back to the two of you. she stopped, people noticed. there were girls who wanted to go home with her and she blew them off. normally, ellie would be at parties flirting with every single girl she met, maybe even selling a few blunts here and there.

her situation got worse when she couldn’t watch the two of you fucking. she’d search through her phone for any saved videos she had every night if not every 30 minutes.

tonight, possibly one of her biggest donations to date, she’d keep upping the price until her cards ran dry.

“alright. i think it’s about time for us to log off.. this pretty girl over here is close to passing out!” her voice was light and soft, hands sliding up and down your thighs in a comforting manner. “thanks for another great night.” were her last words before she shut the stream off and ellie could’ve sobbed right then and there.

it was late, almost 1 in the morning and she was positive you were exhausted yet still wanted more. it’s like it had become a craving.

you and abby had made enough money to hold you off for a few weeks, therefore you didn’t feel the need to stream. it was good to take a break and after that session, you most definitely needed it.

ellie wasn’t happy though. the thing she relied on had stopped and she became pissy with the whole world. distant from both of you, dina and even joel. it was driving her crazy not seeing that ring of white against abby’s strap.

she’d snap on anyone and everyone over small things, poor girl. all she wanted was to relieve that stress and she couldn’t. all because of you. you weren’t aware, too obsessed with abby yourself to care about anyone else. it wasn’t the same for the blonde. she was ellie’s best friend, after all. it’s crazy to think they didn’t fuck a few times before you guys got together!

abby knew what she needed and she knew how ellie looked at you when you wore those pretty skirts or the shorts that squeezed your thighs perfectly. she had thought a few times about proposing the idea to you. abby never did though, afraid you’d be freaked out by it.

she had something planned. all three of you, together. to be honest, that’s what she needed some of the money for.

i bet you’re curious.. too bad abby wants to wait a few days before letting you know! wife’s orders, i’ve gotta listen. see you soon! ❤︎

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appleblueberry-pie · 2 months

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Sweet Yandere Satoru Gojo Headcanons

I want to steer away from the regular Yandere Satoru Gojo for a second. I feel it is very common for us to believe that he is, in fact, deranged, selfish, hilarious, confident in his caretaking abilities, and nearly unbearable to be around.

But I also believe in Yandere Gojo Satoru, who almost seems like a sweet angel to you. I mostly want to pull this thought from when he was in high school so that you understand what I mean.

When you two first meet after the last class of the day, Shoko and Suguru already left him behind, not wanting to see him blend his possibilities of ever pulling a girl into a mango smoothie to be digested and never return.

You had your stuff packed and heaved your stuff onto one shoulder before you felt a soft tap on your other. You turn to face Gojo, your classmate you just met this morning and see how shy he looks. It feels like a thousand pounds weigh on his eyeballs to keep him from looking up at you. You're so beautiful, and he stared enough at you for this whole day. But for you two to link eyes??? He doesn't think he'd stand it. He's so scared to speak up.

"..........um......." His voice is soft and a little wobbly. He picks at his fingers. You tilt your head in concern, questioning his behavior. "Gojo?" God, he wants you to say his name again. He glances up at you, bringing his eyes back to the floor. But then immediately looks back up, linking eye contact. The tension in his face visibly disappears when he finally lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are so pretty, you think to yourself. "Um.......oh...I-I just wanted to ask if we can be friends...? It's ok if not."

From then, a (slightly twisted) beautiful relationship bloomed. Gojo loved to watch you sleep. It was his form of therapy. Just watching you snore, vulnerable, and relaxed made him want to be with you. He wanted to breathe the air that you exhaled. He wanted to be in your skin forever to stay warm, in the comfort of your body for as long as he could.

He sighs longingly as he stares at you outside of your window. He looked very weird standing alone on the outskirts of the dorm rooms, peeking into a blocked window.

Everyone knew that he liked you. And everyone assumed that you knew that he liked you. It was hard not to see it. Every time you left, his eyes glossed over as if he were departing for college away from his parents for the first time. And when you came back, his grin held the shine of a thousand sun's, eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

He always bought and/or brought snacks for you, knowing you liked them. Whatever you wanted, he got for you, unless you gave him explicit directions not to. Chocolate? Chips? Gummie snacks? Cookies? Specific crackers? Seltzer water? What flavour?? He has 7 different kinds.

He learned to drive just to take you places. It felt like little dates, but you never thought too much about it. If you needed help with homework, he always knew exactly how to teach you how to do it. Need help with training? He'll spar you for as long as you like. Need a change of clothes? You can use his, and he'll take yours to wash them for you. No?? Too weird????? He'll apologize profusely, scared to death. He didn't want to ruin what you two had.

If anyone speaks about you in any way....platonically or romantically, he won't do anything in that moment. He'll pout. Hard. Keep silent and glare at whoever is talking. Will imagine killing them, but would never do so. He knows it would affect you and your relationship with said person, and the last thing he wants is to make you unhappy. The most he'll do is hack all of this person's personal accounts on their phone or computer or just delete everything they have in general. He'll be petty. He would probably get to harming people when he's in his mid-twenties. But we're not there.

You kind of like him, too. He's so bright, his energy is attractive, and he gives you so much attention and affection. It's hard to turn that down. You love how honest he is.

You try not to get lost in his eyes, knowing you'd never come back. His puppy eyes are so killer. You can never ever say no to him. No to cuddles?? "Pleeaaaasseee?" He'll softly say, a soft frown on his face, big big blue eyes distracting you from your homework. You turn away from him immediately to not fall in, but it's too late.

"Satoru...." You trail off. But then you sigh and get out of your seat, and he gives you that pretty smile once more.

You tell yourself that he's so cute more than you'd like to admit. You realized that you have a crush when he drove you out to the beach, burgers in hand while you sat on the warm sand. He turns to you with that nice smile once more and says how nice this is to be alone and spend time with you.

You turn to him and recognize his white eyelashes kissing his cheeks. His cheeks had a soft red blush to them when he realized you were staring. And his lips that you forced yourself to look away from. His white hair that framed his face, his eyes that made you smile whenever wrinkles showed at the corner. I think I love him, you say to yourself internally.

You look back down to your burger, quietly adjusting the tomatoes on there. "Yeah." This time, your eyes gloss over, and you keep silent. Satoru takes a bite of his burger, and the waves continue crashing.

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semisgroupie · 6 months

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I SEE A REFLECTION OF MY SINS IN YOU

priest!getou suguru x fem. reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: HEAVILY sacrilegious, blasphemy, use of a Bible verse during sex, unprotected sex, creampie, piercings (pierced getou makes the brain go brr), light choking, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, mention of having sex in a church

synopsis: who said priests can’t have a little fun? just make sure they repent on sunday

Maybe everyone was right. Maybe priests were one of the biggest hypocrites of them all.

They’re the people that everyone sees as the closest beings to god, the people that could save you from the fiery depths of hell, the people that could save your soul from eternal damnation and the people that are trusted among all. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not the truth. Maybe we should rip them down from that pedestal they’re atop of, maybe we should expose them for their sins and make them worry about the consequences of their actions.

Or maybe, we should let them continue to sin. At the end of the day, they are still going to church on Sunday, they are still repenting for their sins. Continue to let them be sinners especially when you benefit from it the most.

You have never been the sweet church girl your parents tried to raise you to be. Being innocent and complacent never appealed to you but when you were under your parents roof, you followed whatever rule book they laid out for you. There were moments where you disobeyed but only with minor things, sneaking out once they were asleep, coming back home past curfew reeking of alcohol and weed, making out with your boyfriend at the time in the church’s parking lot during Bible study.

Then once you moved out to college you were free to do whatever you wanted, and you did whatever your heart desired. Even to this day you still do as your heart desires. Which has led you to your current relationship, fuck buddy situationship, with the priest at your local church.

Suguru had joined the church almost a year ago due to the former priest falling ill. He immediately caught your attention and you immediately caught his. During his sermons, his eyes would scan the crowd until he could see you. Whenever you would visit him after mass for extra guidance, he was never able to hide the way his hungry eyes roamed your body, drinking in all of your curves like they were the last thing he would see.

After a month of being at the church, he couldn’t take it anymore. His fist was no longer satisfactory, he needed to feel your flesh against his, he needed his cock to delve into the warmth of your mouth and cunt, he needed you to be his salvation. So one Sunday morning, as he was picking up and organizing the Bible’s for morning mass he saw you standing at the entrance. A warm smile hiding devious intent graced his face as it did yours. You begged him for a quick confession, you needed to absolve yourself of the sins that plagued your mind and soul. He obliged, of course, what kind of priest would he be if he didn’t? He listened to your confession with open ears and by the time you were done, his cock ached and throbbed underneath his cassock. He couldn’t let you go away without doing something so he did something completely unorthodox and confessed to you, confessed how you’ve plagued his mind every night while he pumped his cock, how he so desperately wanted to bend you over one of the pews and fuck you senseless until you cried out his name like a prayer.

You took his words as some twisted sign from God. Then after mass you stood behind to fulfill both of your desires. He pulled you into the confessional booth and made you ride him while you recited some of the Bible verses he brought up during mass. The whole experience made you both crave more so you established a plan and schedule for regular hookups.

Today was the day that you two were supposed to meet up. You sat on the queen sized bed of the motel you two frequently went to and awaited his arrival. That’s how it would always go since today he had to conduct Bible study. Some time passed and you finally saw the door knob turn, he opened it and looked at you with a soft smile. “You look as beautiful as always, dear.” Your eyes scanned his body, he was wearing black slacks with a black button up and right at his neck was his clerical collar, you rolled your eyes at the sight of it as he closed the door and moved closer to you.

“If you keep wearing that to our little meetings then word will spread, Father. Imagine how bad it’ll be, the young priest that everyone has grown to love is the biggest sinner of them all.” You both knew nothing would happen. The motel was a few miles away from town and was just used as a rest stop for anyone on a road trip or truckers that needed somewhere to sleep for the night. Even the woman at the front desk didn’t care, as long as money would enter her pocket, she could care less about what happened behind the closed doors of her motel rooms. He chuckled at your words as he moved closer to you and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, “then I’ll just tell them you’re a temptress. You and I both know they’ll believe anything I say, my word is as good as God’s.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes again so instead you drop your head a little to take his thumb into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it before releasing it with a soft pop.

He groaned and felt his cock throb in his pants and leaned down to press his lips against yours in a lust-filled kiss. You lifted your hands to grab at his shirt as his tongue slipped into your mouth, the cool metal that decorated his tongue grazed against yours and made you moan against his lips. When you first found out about his many piercings, you were surprised to say the least. He was able to cover the ear piercings with his hair and somehow hid his tongue piercing from everyone and the piercings that surprised you the most were the four barbells that were tucked away in his pants.

His hands moved underneath your top and pulled it off of you rather roughly. You decided not to wear a bra and he immediately dove down to take your sensitive nipples into his mouth, he groaned as the taste of your skin hit his tongue and looked up at you as you began to thread your fingers through his dark locks. He released the bud from his mouth and dragged his tongue to the other before latching onto it to give it the same treatment. His cock throbbed and ached for release and soon he would grant himself the serenity, he just wanted to hear more beautiful sounds fall from your lips. You moaned his name and after a few moments he released your nipple and stood up.

“You have such a beautiful mouth, makes the most beautiful sounds. Now I want you to put it to work, okay?” He undressed himself, first his shirt, then his pants and briefs until you could finally see his rock hard cock.

It sprung out of its confines and slapped against his toned stomach and the silver piercings caught your eye. You licked your lips at the sight before sticking your tongue out to run it along the underside of his cock, feeling the metal that decorated it. Once you reached the head of his cock you wrapped your lips around it, suckling on it for a few moments before opening your mouth to take more of his cock in your mouth. He groaned and rolled his head back, “God granted me the gift of your sinful mouth and body. Oh how lucky am I.” He placed one hand on top of your head to guide your movements, moving you along his cock and trying to restrain himself from forcing you to take him entirely down your throat. Patience was a virtue he held dear, until he met you. He let you continue to take your time for a few more moments before shoving his cock down your throat, using both of his hands to keep you in place.

“That’s much better, a mouth like yours needs to be purged forcefully. Taking my time won’t do you any justice.” You felt his piercings along your tongue as he started thrusting into your mouth. The tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat and his balls slapped against your chin with each thrust. You felt the burning ache between your thighs and you had to satiate yourself before you grow mad. So, you snaked one hand down and started to rub your clit, your moans vibrated along his cock and it made him twitch in your mouth. He bit his lip as he pulled out of your mouth completely, only a few strings of saliva connect you to the tip of his cock. He shuddered as the cold air hit his cock, since it was no longer basked in the warmth of your mouth and it craved more, he craved more.

“So, what are your plans now? Want to watch me pant and pleasure myself like a heathen? Or do you finally want to fuck me?” You bit your lip as your hand continued to rub quick circles along the swollen bundle of nerves, a low moan left your lips and his cock twitched again. He leaned down and hooked his hand under your arm, tugging you up from your position and pushing you on the bed so you’re bent over it. His hands moved along your plush thighs and moved up to push your flimsy skirt up, giving him a better view of your soaked panties. “You drive me crazy when you wear these little skirts to mass, always distracting me whenever you cross your legs. I remember the first time you surprised me by not wearing panties underneath, I almost choked on my spit when I saw this needy cunt, glistening under the lord’s light.” He hooked his lithe fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, tossing them to the side since they were no longer needed.

Your need grew with each passing second and you could feel yourself clench around nothing. You let out a low wanton whine, you were waiting for this all week and now that he was finally behind you, you couldn’t wait any longer. “Suguru, please — fuck!” Your whines were quickly replaced with a loud moan, he pushed himself into you so suddenly, your legs shook and your hands flew to the sheets, gripping them tightly in your fists. “No need to whine or complain, I was giving you what you wanted. I need this just as bad as you do, my sweet temptress.” He gripped your hips tight enough to bruise the skin and started to thrust, each drag of his cock along your walls was beyond blissful. His piercings rubbing along your walls made your toes curl. He first started off with slow thrusts despite his abrupt entrance inside you then began to thrust faster and harder.

Low grunts and groans left his lips while whines, mewls and cries left yours. It felt like angels were singing in his ears each time you cried out his name. He moved one hand up from your hips and brought it to your neck. He wrapped his hand around it and brought you up, making his cock hit even deeper. His mouth was pressed right against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning your skin before he started to speak. “You know, this reminds me of one of the verses we went over today in Bible study. Mind if I recite it to you?” You nodded dumbly at his words and he knew you couldn’t comprehend whatever he told you. “It's from the epistle of James, ‘But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.’ We have been tempted by each other and now engage in a constant ritual of sin, if God were to strike us dead right now, I’d die the most blissful death known to man. I think it's pretty ironic, I am a man who has devoted himself to God and I have planned to live a life free of sin, yet here I am, committing some of the worst sins known to man. I should be leading you away from temptation yet here I am, pushing you headfirst into the fiery depths.”

He snaps his hips into yours harder, almost animalistically and drags his tongue along the side of your neck. You bring one of your hands up and wrap it around his wrist, holding onto him as best as you can as he continues to fuck you senseless. Choked out gasps and moans leave you and you grip his wrist tighter and you edge closer and closer to an orgasm. “Gonna cum!” You gasped out and he moved his hand from the front of your throat to the back of your neck to push you down against the bed. Your cheek pressed against the soft fabric as he drills into you mercilessly. “Oh god! Oh fuck!” You babble out and tremble underneath him more, making him chuckle. “You should never use the Lord’s name in vain, especially during a time like this. But, I’ll just make sure you repent later during your confession. I think 10 hail mary’s while I’m edging you will do just fine, I’ll make sure you don’t cum until you say your last one. But for now, cum. Make a mess all over my cock and I’ll give you my own blessing and coat your insides in cum.”

He snaked his other hand down to rub your clit, finally sending you over the edge into your own paradise. A cry of his name paired with thank you’s left your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and threatened to spill and with a few more heavy thrusts from him, they finally ran. He continued to snap his hips into yours, greedily chasing his own release until he finally came inside of you. His cock twitched as heavy spurts of cum flooded your cunt. If you weren’t on birth control then you were sure that you would’ve been bearing his child. He released his grip on the back of your neck and leaned down to pepper kisses along your spine and shoulder blades as he came down from his high.

Heavy breaths left the both of you and he slowly pulled out to drop on the bed beside you. He opened his arms to let you cuddle close to him and he wrapped his arms around you. You both basked in the comfortable silence before he finally spoke, “I know it’ll sound cheesy but I am thankful that God put us in each other’s paths. You’ve made priesthood much more enjoyable.” You smile at his words and press a few kisses along his chest before lifting yourself up to press your lips against his. “It is cheesy but I am thankful as well. It’s not everyday where you get the chance to fuck the hot priest.” You laughed as he shook his head and pinched your side. You swatted his hand away and rested your chin on his chest, taking a strand of his hair between your fingers to twirl it. He watched you with a smile on his face while his fingers danced along your skin.

You were both convinced that in some twisted way, you were meant to be together like this, you were both meant to indulge in sin and then use prayers to cleanse your souls. It was in your nature to sin and why go against nature and God’s wishes?

taglist: @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @hellsingalucard18 @suyacho @cherrykamado @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @watyousayin

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #getou suguru smut #jjk geto smut #geto suguru smut #tw:blasphemy #tw:sacreligion #tw:choking #tw:unprotected sex #tw:creampie

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rwrbficrecs · 2 months

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i’d take the bomb in your head and disarm it by @henrysfox (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry are students at NYU who randomly become dorm roommates. After a few short weeks of mutual dislike their friendship starts to grow - and could it actually be more ...?! At the end of the story, I was baffled that the two of them could be so completely clueless the whole time?! Then again, who am I to judge when someone settles for half-baked assumptions instead of just mustering up the courage and trying to have an honest conversation?! 😇 The story is so gentle, so angsty and Alex is just so vulnerable and soft - just beautiful and moving!

you are my mountain (you are my sea) by @alasse9 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Five moments between Alex and Henry, starting with the visit to Alex's childhood home in Texas after Ellen's election victory, a vulnerable moment in the Brownstone, a vacation in Mexico City... This story isn't even close to 10,000 words, but it's so unbelievably powerful - I am still blown away! The author manages to hit on so many interpersonal aspects and delicate vibrations, to formulate soft, tender feelings and thoughts and describes Alex and Henry both so damn considerate and soulful - the author nailed it (imho), it's almost impossible to grasp!

Shatter Me by @historicallysam (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry and Alex are still Prince and First Son, some is canon, a lot slightly modified, but: Alex is out, Henry is not. He isn't even sure if he's gay or if he ever wants to acknowledge it - until he meets Alex and falls head over heels. The catch, on top of the homophobic Queen: Henry is engaged, his fiancée lovely, amazing even, and the wedding date is about to be set. How the author weaves together the familiar events and plotlines and their own ideas is brilliant! Not gonna lie: It was (to me) oppressive at times, really angsty - but also highly gripping!

The Consequences (of our Actions) (series) by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@celeritas2997: Alex is just a Regular Guy who just happened to put Prince Henry on his 'No Consequences Sex List' and proceeds to tell him about this when they meet. Lots of sex (like, ridiculously hot sex) and feelings (SO MANY FEELINGS) ensue. I am convinced that Anchor is magic and will continue shouting about this series from the rooftops until the end of days; it is clever, sexy, funny, beautifully written and so, so, so heartfelt. ❤️

@heybuddy-drabbles: I started this when it first started and thought it was just some fun little pwp canon divergence. When I picked it up again, it was a hell of a series. I loved every last bit of it. It goes way into the whole "If cake gate didn't happen, Alex would have made himself a problem for Henry anyway" and he does in the most glorious way. I can't talk enough about HENRY in this though. It's mostly on Alex POV except the extra chapter but I'm OBSESSED WITH HENRY. How he's older. How he does things for himself like running the shelters with Pez even before he meets Alex. Anyway I could talk about Henry in this series for days but that's not why we are here for. Just, do yourself a favor and just read this.

5 Times Henry Hated New Year's + 1 Time He Didn't by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is such an emotional rollercoaster, but it's worth every gut-wrenching twist! It delves into each of the six parts so well that you feel like you're experiencing each of Henry's life experiences with him.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you by @gayrootvegetable (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the cutest combination of a high school AU and soulmate AU! This fic is short but so very sweet!

if you have a garden and a library... by @glasshouses-and-stones (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is so cute! It's not technically a Cinderella AU, but it has those vibes, and the author does a great job with the setting. Another fic that's short but so sweet!

It takes a lot to know a man by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you to mind the trigger warnings that is true, but I can also say my GOD is this fic fantastic the writing is superb and the pacing is right on and the plot is so intricately woven I am elated to recommend it everywhere I can. Talk about an in depth suspense thriller mixed with that sex club dom/sub trope mixed with a law case ~ truly there are no words to describe how much this work gripped me as I read through it

@dot524: The subject matter is heavy at times and so are the smut scenes, but also I was fascinated with the story. I didn’t expect it to end up in the intense culminating scene that it did.

Something borrowed, Something blue by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: Yes, I know I recommended this during our Wip Wednesdays but now I'm going to recommend it here for the peeps who only read complete works. Read this. I beg of you. It's so excellent. Henry's relationship with June is something so special to me in this. June and her little family, her daughter means the world to me as well. Alex and his complicated feelings for Henry, their "enemies" to lovers road is just. God I loved it so much. Henry. HENRY IN THIS. Just. Please read this.

hold on (get ready for the ride) by wilmonflicker (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a professional soccer/football AU that I binged and completely fell in love with. Alex transfers to the team where Henry is the star player, and they get together. it's beautifully written, smutty at times and perfect for sport lovers and non-sport lovers alike

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs

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jaesqueso · 1 year

Text

Baby don’t stop (m)

pairing: gym buddy!jaehyun x female!reader

summary: you don’t want to deal with feelings, but you don’t want him to stop

word count: 5,089

warnings: fluff, unprotected and protected sex, oral, fingering, semi-public sex

a/n: ever since I saw these gifs of Jaehyun I knew I had to write this, it just took a bit longer than I thought 😅 I hope ya’ll enjoy it ❤ not proof read yet

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

For most people going to the gym is a burden. The strength it takes to get out of the house and going to a place where you’re sweating and in pain sometimes loosing to the will to stay in the comfort of the couch. Those people definitely don’t work out with Jung Jaehyun.

You’ve seen him around town before. Well, who hasn’t? The man exudes seduction wherever he goes. Man and woman gagging at his handsome features and his sweet personality. So when you were looking for a new gym, since the one you used to go reallocated to another city, you made your decision when you saw him sitting on a bench, legs parted but back straight, his face showing the pain of those shoulder presses he was doing. In the first weeks you noticed your schedules seemed to match and running into him went from a polite greeting to actually working out together as you got to know each other.

“I thought I’d run into you here.” Seeing his smile walk through the door almost makes you crumble out of your plank position but you manage to hold it until your timer goes off.

Sometimes you like to go into one of the rooms of the gym, when there’s no classes going on, to have more space and privacy and since you’re a regular the staff had no problem with it. So when Jaehyun didn’t see you on the shared space he know exactly where to find you.

“I thought you’d given up training.” You get up, wiping your sweat with a towel as he walks up to you in his plain black t-shirt and grey sport shorts.

“Oh, come on, I’m only like ten minutes late.” Rolling his eyes he grabs a mattress and places it next to yours.

“Ten minutes? More like half an hour.” You chuckle as he glares at you.

Over time you became close enough to bicker and tease each other like this all the time. There was no denying you felt incredibly attracted to him but you couldn’t tell if he felt the same or was just being nice like he was to everybody else.

“Did you miss me that much? Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ghost you like that.” He winks as he does his stretching, making you shake your head with a grin. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Core.” You wiggle your brows.

“Oh great.” He pretends to be excited before letting his body fall into the mattress.

“Don’t be a pussy. You gotta work on those abs!” Playfully you slap his stomach but instantly regret feeling how rock solid he already his through his shirt.

“Oh no, you injured me! Guess I can’t do it no more!” He fake groans on the floor. “I need some mouth resuscitation, quick!”

“You wish!” You laugh to mask how much you’d love to do exactly that. “Come on, time to start a new set.”

“Ugh, ok lets go.”

This is a familiar set you two already know by heart. Starting off with sit ups, then some flutter kicks, followed by mountain climbers, traditional hip thrusts and some crunches, ending with a minute plank. As usual, you go through 5 sets, even if you had already done one, hyping up each other while your bodies grow sore and glistening with sweat, the temperature of the room rising.

As much as you’re used to working out with Jaehyun, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sneaking glances at the way his muscles tense up and how he bites his bottom lip to focus on controlling them. You’re pretty sure your body heat is not only from the exercises but the burning desire of feeling his warm skin against yours. It doesn’t help that the core set is just so… Sensual.

What you didn’t know is that he did the exact same thing. From the corner of his eye he observes every inch of your body, how you manage to be all sweaty and still remain so sexy. How he wish he could feel those hips thrusts against his-

“Jaehyun!” You pull him out of his transe. “Plank!”

“Oh, right!” He quickly switches positions to keep up.

“Come on, this is the last set.” You try to encourage both of you on finishing it.

“Why does a minute in plank feel like three hours?” Groaning he tries hard to hold his position.

“3, 2, 1… Done!” The timer goes off and you two let your bodies fall to each mattress, panting.

“Finally!” Jaehyun cheers turning his body around and you do the same.

Smiling as you stare at the ceiling, you take long breathes to bring your heart rate down. When you look the side you see him turning his face to you too. For a few seconds you lay there looking at each other, chest heaving up and down. There has always been some sexual tension between you two, even if none admitted it, but today it just felt particularly strong. That’s why in no time your lips were pressing against each other as your bodies entangled into one.

His hands roam on your sides as you pull his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere around the room. The kiss is desperate and intense letting you know how much he’s been thinking about this too. With him on top of you on the thin mattress, your shirt comes off as well, but your sports bra is too tight and sticky so he gives up and leaves it on.

When his hand cups your core, the fabric sticks to it but you know it’s not sweat, it’s your burning desire to feel more. Your tights leggings struggle to slide down your legs, but this time he’s not giving up that easily, taking your shoes with them. His lips then travel down your neck, tasting your salty hot skin. Wet kisses are left between your breasts, on your stomach, down to your still covered pussy.

By now you’re both too needy to get any more naked so he simply slides your panties to the side to slide his fingers between your folds, making you moan as your hand makes its way inside his underwear to stroke his hard dick. His long slender fingers slide so easily inside you, the nasty noises as he pumps them in and out driving you insane.

“Fuck me, Jaehyun.” You groan against his lips.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

With a smirk he removes your hand from his member, pushing his shorts and briefs down his hips and letting out the beast. You yelp when your legs are pushed apart and he positions himself between them.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom…” He sighs right before he was about to align himself with your entrance.

“That’s ok, I’m on the pill. And you can pull out.” You desperately suggest, there’s no way you’re losing this opportunity.

“You sure?” He confirms.

“Please, Jaehyun…” You beg pulling his hips down on yours.

Without wasting any more time, he pumps up his dick a few times and rubs it between your slick folds before finally sliding it inside you. You bite your lips at the satisfying stretch, digging your nails into his shoulder. After adjusting, his hips start moving against yours, quickly increasing the speed of his thrusts in despair.

Your legs instantly wrap around his waist, pulling him as closer as you can so he can hit as deep as he can. You’ve dreamt about this moment for so long, but your fantasies can’t come close to how it really feels to have all of him in you, as his mouth leaves beautiful marks all over your neck.

After a while he turns you around with his strong arms, lifting your hips so you’re resting on your knees as your face is pushed down. When he enters you again, the angle making it hit differently, has you grasping on the mattress.

With a tight grip on your hips, he moves just at the right pace to start building that sweet feeling deep inside of you. You’re not one to cum easily but damn, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feel like a life time and damn, he’s doing such a great job.

Lifting your head you’re graced with a beautiful vision: the huge mirror on the wall in front of you showcasing his shirtless sculptured figure right behind your sinful position. You notice the way he bites his lip just like he does when lifting weights, and it drives you crazy. Soon his eyes find the reflexion of yours making the corner of his lip curl up in a devilish smut.

Suddenly your upper body his lifted against his, leaving you on full display in the mirror, his movements in and out of you never stopping. One of his hands travels down your stomach before his index and middle fingers start circling your clit increasing your pleasure. His coordination is unbelievable, much like his self control, because you could sweat he was holding his orgasm in just to make this moment last a little longer.

“Cum with me.” He whispers against your ear as you both watch your bodies moving in sync.

With one last groan you do as you’re told, like a good girl, almost crumbling down if his grip around your waist wasn’t that tight. Watching you fall apart in front of him triggers his own high but he manages to pull out, like a good boy, white strings of cum flying into the mattress.

For a few seconds you stay just like that, kneeling in each others arms as you regain your breath and let your heart rate get back to normal.

“Guess we don’t need cardio today.” Jaehyun jokes as you two start to get dressed.

“Don’t think the staff will love our alternative for the treadmill though.” Chuckling, you grab your towel to clean up what you can from the mess on the mattress.

“Oh shit, do you think somebody heard us?” He looks around, thanking all heavens that the small room doesn’t have any windows or cameras, at least that he can spot.

“We weren’t interrupted, were we?” You shrug with a grin. “Besides, it’s not like our noises were much different from someone exercising really hard.”

You both laugh but then he walks to you, hand gentling resting against your cheek before he leans for a kiss. This time his lips move slower, he doesn’t rush as you already got the lust out of the way. It should feel good, and it does, but you can’t help but freeze on the spot, panicking inside.

“I gotta go.” You grab your things and rush to the door right after he steps back.

“Wait! Did I do something wrong?” He calls but you’re already out of the room.

Quickly he grabs his stuff and tries to chase you but you’re nowhere to be found. He tries calling but you don’t pick up. He texts but there’s no reply. Jaehyun’s confused, he thought you wanted this, he thought you liked him. But if you did, why did you run away?

It was hard not answering his calls or texts but it just got too real too fast. Yes, there was physical attraction between you two and he is a fun guy to be around. But that last kiss just felt like too much, like there were feelings behind it and that’s something you just can’t deal with.

You decide not to go to the gym the rest of the week to avoid him. Childish behaviour? Yes. But it beats having to deal with possible feelings.

Friday night arrives and you decide to go out, have some fun and forget about all this mess. You meet up with some friends but once you get to the club everybody casually spreads out, some looking to pull, some just finding a spot on the dance floor. As for you, the bar is your first destination, greeting the bartender and ordering your usual drink.

“Guess faith is stronger than your will to avoid me.”

Looking to the side you see Jaehyun. Up until now you’d only seen him in his gym clothes, but you gotta admit the red dress shirt and black pants suit him like a glove. But you push the lust to the side and grab your drink about to disappear into the crowd.

“Wait.” He grabs your arm making you look back. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You step back, taking his hand off of you.

“I think you know.” You sigh, realising there’s no point running away. “We were hitting it off so well, why did you run away?”

“Look,” you stop his hand from reaching your arm again, this time to caress it, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about us.”

“And what idea is that?” He raises a brow.

“I don’t do relationships, Jaehyun. Yes, I had a good time with you but that’s it. If you’re looking for more than that, I’m not your girl.” You turn back around about to go your way again.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” His words stop you. “I had a good time too. And I think it would be a waste to just throw away all this chemistry.”

You remain in place, thinking about what he said, se he walks over to you.

“We can just keep it casual, you know?” His breath against your ear as his hands make their way to your hips, brings a smile to your face. “Just physical, not feelings.”

“You can buy me another drink first.” You push him away and turn around. “Then we’ll see.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to guess how the night ended. Bodies entangled, rolling around on his sheets. Luckily he had a drawer full of condoms so you didn’t have to play the dangerous pull out game again.

The next morning, Jaehyun wakes up alone as you sneaked out when he instantly feel asleep after your new work out plan. For a second he thinks you might’ve have regret the agreement but your texts are back making him chuckle as he goes in the bathroom to take a shower.

You didn’t take any more chances at the gym, saving the place to actually work out, but you start meeting casually when needing to blow off some steam, or if you were just in the mood. You never discussed being with other people in the mean time, but if you got what you needed from him, why would you go through the process of picking up someone new?

You just had one rule: no sleeping over. Wether he went to your place, or you went to his, nobody sleeps the night at the other’s bed. That’s your one requirement to avoid feelings. And so far it seemed to be working. Months have passed and your friends with benefits agreement feels like one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

Until one day he decides to say the forbidden words.

“Why don’t you stay?” You ignore his words and pick up your clothes to get re-dressed, but he insists. “C’mon, it’s late and I know I wore you out tonight.”

“Jaehyun stop.” You don’t have to look back to know the proud look on his face from his performance tonight.

“I don’t get why you insist on leaving right after we have sex.” He sits on the bed, back against the headboard, not even bothering to cover his still naked body. “You make me feel so used.”

“Oh, poor thing.” You go along with his joke at first but then decide to clear up the boundaries. “I told you why.”

“‘Sleeping together leads to waking up together which leads to feelings, blah, blah, blah’, I know, I know.” He mocks your voice and groans, “I just can’t understand why you’re so scared to catch feelings.”

“I’m not scared,” you roll your eyes, “I’m just-”

“‘Not that type of girl’, right…” He sprawls across the bed, getting annoyed with the conversation.

“If you know all of that, why are we discussing it?” You check yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair.

“Because I feel like you’re softening up.” He casually replies.

“What?” You turn around with furrowed brows.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” His tone is cocky, “The texts we exchange, the way you kiss me and touch me lately… I know you’re getting smitten.”

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.” You grab your jacket and purse and get out the door.

When you get home you can’t stop thinking about what he said. You grab your phone and open your conversation with him. You cringe a little bit at how… Cute you started talking over all the usual teasing. Could you really be getting smitten?

Locking your phone, you lay on your back as you stare into the celling. Maybe you have been a little more kissy and touchy lately. Ugh, did you catch feelings and didn’t even realize? Your mind is a mess and your heart is beating like crazy. Is this what having feelings feel like? I do people live like this?

The next time you meet up at your place, no one talks about the conversation that has been on repeat inside your head, not that there’s much talking at all. But when he’s getting ready to go, you can’t stop yourself.

“You’ve been thinking about what you said.” You pull the sheets over your tired bare body.

“About what?” He continues getting dressed.

“About me being scared of my feelings and all that…” He stops with his t-shirt half way through his arm and turns to you with a surprised expression. “Maybe… Just maybe! I could give it a try…”

“Wait.” He walks to the bed and sits on the edge. “Do you mean, give us a try?”

“I guess…” You try to hold in your smile as his grows big. “But you should know I have no idea how to do this.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll make It work.” Crawling over the bed, he heads straight to your lips before you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“Not so fast, I wanna do this properly.” You got him groaning at your barrier.

“What do you mean?” He leans back again.

“I believe we should go on a date first.” You propose.

“A date? Aren’t we a little pass that?” He chuckles taking a peek inside the sheets and earning himself a slap on his hand.

“Jaehyun, I never did this before so I wanna do it right.” You insist.

“OK, ok, you win.” Getting up, he continues getting dressed. “Where should we go then?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wink making him shake his head with a smile. “How does Saturday at 7pm sounds?”

“Sounds like it’s gonna be fun!” He excitedly replies as he heads out.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

When the front door closes you roll around the bed, giggling like a teenager. This feelings thing is so weird, but you gotta admit it feels kind of nice.

Saturday comes and he’s finishing getting ready when the doorbell rings. You had texted him you’d pick him up so a smile grows on his face. The first thing he sees is a huge bouquet making his eyes go wide.

“Hi.” Your head pops up from behind it with a grin.

“What is this?” He chuckles taking the flowers.

“Well, I read online it’s usual to bring flowers on date.” You shrug.

“I’m pretty sure it’s usually the guy doing this part…” He raises an eyebrow. “But I’ll take it. Let me put these in some water and we can go.”

You awkwardly wait by the door but he is quick to come back. The date is a classic one: dinner and a movie, simple but effective. You didn’t want to go overboard with it in case it went wrong, but of course it doesn’t, you already know each other so well and have so much chemistry that it had everything to go right. The conversation flows, you laugh and get to know each other even more. At the end of the day it was a very successful date.

When you drop him back at his place, you walk him to the door, laughing about a funny scene in the movie you watched.

“Here you are, safe and sound.” You smile, pleased with the outcome.

“I am.” He chuckles. ”I had a really great time.”

“Not bad for a first date, huh?” You nudge his arm.

“Not bad at all.” With that he starts to lean forward expecting a kiss but you stop him.

“You’re supposed to wait til the third date to kiss.” You whisper against his lips that are so close from yours.

“Says who?” He whispers back, not moving an inch.

“The internet.” There’s a pause and then you two start laughing. “I told you I want to do this right, I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”

“Ok, we’ll do it your way.” He finally steps back with a sigh and plays along. “Will you call me then?”

“I will.” You nod. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

The rest of the weekend he stays by the phone but no call, not even a text. Why are you so confusing and give him mixed feelings? He thought everything went well but now you just go silent. On Monday afternoon he sees you entering the gym and catches you right before you get into the locker room.

“Oh hey, I didn’t see you!” Your smile looks so genuine that makes his head a mess.

“Don’t tell me you’re avoiding me again.” He puts on the cutest pout.

“What?” You tilt your head. “Why would I be avoiding you?”

“Right?” You grow more confused. “You said you’d call. And then you didn’t…”

“Oh that?” You chuckle. “I read you’re supposed to wait two days to call back. I was gonna do it tonight.”

“Are you serious?” He lets out a relieved breath. “Does everything really have to be under these ‘rules’?”

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, so yes.” You explain, giving no room for him to refute any further. “Now let me go get ready, otherwise I won’t get any exercise done today.”

Jaehyun stands there looking dumbfounded as you go change. You’re so unique and peculiar, but that just makes him like you even more. One thing he doesn’t really like is that because you finally decided to accept your feelings and go on all these dates, he’s getting none so he’s growing horny and needy.

You keep going on dates and, as promised, at the end of the third one, before you say your goodbyes, you pull him in for a kiss. He takes as much as he can from the moment, not ever wanting to let go, but you eventually push him back and leave.

By the end of the fifth date you accept to come inside his apartment for one last drink before you go. You get comfortable on his couch as he prepares some light drinks and then joins you. The conversation continues like an extension of the date, with him scooting closer and closer until his mouth joins yours.

The glasses are placed on the coffee table as the kiss intensifies and you find yourself moving to his lap. His hands grip on your hips, slightly moving them back and forward to create some friction. But as you start feeling something growing under you, you quickly get up and adjust your clothes.

“Maybe we should call it a night now.” You clear your throat.

“Why?” Frustrated, he runs a hand through his hair before rolling his eyes. “Is these because of those ‘rules’?”

“Well, I read guys like to do it on the fifth date but girls prefer to wait until around date nine, so maybe we should go on a few more…” You bite your lip realising how silly these dating rules sound.

“Oh yeah?” Suddenly he gets up and takes off his shirt. “You really want to date four more dates?”

Gulping, you watch his toned torso that you know so well and miss so much. You also notice the bulge in his pants making your insides burn. In your head you start debating if you still want to do this ‘right’ or give into the pleasure.

“So?” He steps closer, voice dropping low.

“Fuck it.”

Closing the distance you instantly jump on him, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms support you on his shoulders. Good thing he works out hard and catches you like it’s nothing, resuming the kiss he wished you’d never stopped.

He carries you into the bedroom and lays you in bed. Your clothes slowly come off, the naked spots getting covered with Jaehyun’s gentle kisses. When you’re fully bare, he takes a spot between your legs, face inches away from your pussy as he blows some hair on it.

Biting your lip, you squirm on the mattress, desperate for more, but his strong hands hold your tights apart before his tongue travels between your juices folds to focus on the center of your nerves, drawing the most intricate designs and driving you crazy.

Soon his fingers join the party, slowly entering you and curling just the right way to massage that special spot. By now you’re not able to hold it in anymore and let the moans escape your lips. All those dates were fun but damn you missed how he makes you feel in bed.

You try to tell him to just fuck you already, even if it gets lost in your sinful sounds, but he seems to be focused in getting an orgasm out of you before making your wish come true. When your body shakes in pleasure he makes sure to lick all your juice before his lips make their way up so you too can taste yourself.

Then he leans back on his knees, taking his time to unbutton his pants, but now you’re impatient so you replace his hands removing the remaining clothes off his body. His jaw drops in a silent moan when you wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping it up and down.

Letting a drop of saliva fall into the tip, you smear it on the head before you start sucking on it with your hand still moving on the length. Gradually you move your mouth lower until you have all of him inside. You start bobbing your head at a nice pace, feeling him grow more if that’s even possible.

Jaehyun messily grabs your hair out of your way, biting his lip as he attentively watches his dick disappear between your lips. His precum mixes with your own taste in your mouth giving you a nasty yet delicious flavour.

You wanted to go all the way and have him explode in your mouth but he’s the one needy and desperate right now. Gently he pushes you back in in the mattress and reaches for a condom on his night stand. He rolls the rubber down his length before aligning himself in your entrance and slowly pushing in.

Pressing your tights to your torso, his hips start moving as your nails dig onto his back for support. His pace and stamina is like no other, but today it feel different. He’s still hitting all the right spots inside you but this time it feels more passionate and caring, even if he’s fucking your brains out.

After a messy kiss, he leans back, lifting one of your feet to rest on his shoulder, slightly changing the angle and making you moan louder. He joins the melody of pleasure in the room, moving faster and deeper as his orgasm builds up. You look up through half lidded eyes and smile spleeplish at that signature expression you adore, the one he makes when lifting weights as he to control his muscles.

He knows he won’t last must longer, and neither will you for your second high of the night, so he moves your leg to join the other one, positioning you on your side, and lays behind you. He wants to feel close to you when he cums so he wraps his arm around your waist, gluing his rock hard torso to your back.

To make sure you get your orgasm before him, he slips your upper leg over his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside you as his hand moves to your clit. The circular movements of his digits along with the pace of his dick sliding in and out of you are enough to push you over the edge and you coat him in your juices.

Soon, he too is filling up the condom, his moans so close to your ear, almost making you cum again. You stay there for a few minutes, in each others arms, his cock getting soft inside you, until it starts to feel a bit nasty, in a bad way and you separate to clean up.

Back in bed, for the first time you cuddle. It’s such a simple thing but so emotionally powerful that makes you think you’ve done the right thing in letting him in. Letting your feelings in. Your head feels so right laying on his chest, it annoys you much you enjoy listening to his heartbeat as his chest heaves with his steady breathing.

“Alright, time to go.” He taps your shoulder.

“Go where?” You look at him confused.

“Home, silly.” He bops the end of your nose.

You feel like a rock was dropped to your stomach. He wants you to go home. Like you did all those other times. You thought that with dating and accepting your feeling things would be different and it would be good to spend the night, but maybe he thinks differently.

“We already had sex so there’s no point you staying right?” He continues with the most natural smile in his face.

“R-Right…” Still confused, you slowly get up but then get yanked back into his arms.

“I can’t believe you fell for that.” He laughs. “I was just kidding.”

“You idiot!” You hit his chest annoyed at how you realise this is probably what he felt all those times before.

“Shut up, you love me.” As Jaehyun cages you in his embrace you have no choice but to give in.

“Maybe I do.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nc-teen @yutahoes @dimplehyunn @iknowyuno @bebskyy @ne0cultur3technology @nurenciye @luvjeongjaehyun @nohyuckieduckie @booyouwhore17 @jenoxygen

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz @jaehyunsprincess

#neohub #jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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dreamfyrie · 1 year

Text

Giving Aegon His Heir

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader

Though heirs would strengthen his position and claim in the war, Aegon didn’t want you with child until the violence was over. He already worried about you enough, the last thing he needed was a baby to stress about too. The thought of you going through childbirth while he wasn't there to be by your side made him anxious, not to mention how dangerous it was.

Sometimes, after sex, he'd see you rubbing your belly out of the corner of his eye while he made you moon tea. The sweet drink had become a regular part of your daily diet. Most people have had moon tea once or never in their lives, yet you had it almost nightly. You were concerned for when you and Aegon would eventually start trying for children. What if the tea had long-term side effects that no one knew about?

"Soon enough, my queen, the war is almost over. Before you know it, your belly will be round with our child," Aegon would always reassure you.

Aegon desperately wanted you to be with child, and you both knew it. When he found out the war was officially won, he ran through the entire castle to find you. You were the person who meant the most to him, and he wanted to see the look on your face when you found out. This was just as much your victory as it was his. He couldn't have held on this long without your constant reassurance and loyalty. Thankfully, you were already in your chambers getting undressed for bed, it was time to celebrate.

You were so scared when you saw Aegon burst through the door looking like a crazed man.

"We won," he whispered breathlessly, staring at you like you were the only thing in the world.

You felt lightheaded, you had been waiting for this day for so long, yet you were so shocked. Aegon closed the latch on the door and started making his way toward you. The swagger in his walk and the smirk on his face immediately let you know neither of you would be getting any sleep tonight.

He took your face in his hands and started kissing you. There was a passion in it that you had never sensed before. You had never known him before the war, and you had never witnessed him this relieved and happy. You returned the kiss with just as much energy and enthusiasm, hoping this version of Aegon was here to stay. He threw off your robe and ripped off your nightdress.

"I'm going to put a baby in your womb tonight if it's the last thing I ever do. You won't be leaving this room until you are with child."

"Yes, my king."

Aegon never cared for you calling him king, but it turned him on when you were like this, naked and vulnerable. It made him feel powerful. He felt on top of the world tonight. He moved your hands while you were unlacing his pants, and he hurriedly undid them himself. Aegon needed to be in you right now and didn't have the patience to wait any longer.

Aegon pushed you in the direction of the bed, and you both got on it, frantically pulling back the sheets and throwing off all of the decorative pillows. He'd have you in every position tonight and needed the bed cleared for his workspace. Aegon was finishing throwing the last pillow off the bed when he gave you the biggest smile. He saw you on your knees, looking up at him, ready for all of his commands.

"There'll be no celebratory cocksucking tonight, I'm saving all my seed for your womb," Aegon told you, as he pressed down on your shoulder, motioning for you to lay down.

"How do you want me?" you asked, wanting to do whatever you could to please him. This was a special night, and you wanted him to be as happy as possible.

"Just lay there and be a good girl," he ordered. His pupils were dilated so wide his eyes almost looked black. You had never seen him this aroused before. The hold you had over Aegon was strong, but it never ceased to amaze you how obsessed he was with you.

You did as he commanded and laid there, opening your legs up for him.

"Gods, you're always so wet." He reached out and started rubbing his fingers up and down your slit.

"Only for you," you managed to get out, shivering from his touch.

Aegon grinned as he grabbed your thighs, opening you up more. He put one over his shoulder to get more comfortable. Kisses peppered your inner thigh all the way to your cunt. He was being gentle now, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he broke. Aegon had been waiting for this day for years, and you knew this night wouldn't be soft and slow for long.

He rubbed his face in your folds and inhaled your scent. Aegon relished the fact that this would be his new normal. No more being stuck in small council meetings all day, the only place he'd be now was between your thighs. He was just about to place his tongue on you when a banging on the door started.

Aegon got up, naked as the day he was born, and furiously marched to the door as you scrambled to get under the sheets.

He swung the door open, "I swear to every fucking god that another enemy I don't know about better have died."

The guard at the door stammered, never seeing Aegon this mad, "No one has died your grace. Your mother wishes for your presence, she would like to congratulate you on your victory."

"And I wish for my cock to be inside my wife. Fuck off," Aegon said as he slammed the door in the guard's face.

"My apologies, your gr—" was the last thing you heard before Aegon threw the lock back in place.

Aegon prowled back to the bed as you blushed, looking at you like you were his prey and next meal, which you were.

"I'll have him stripped of his cloak in the morning for trying to keep me away from you," he said as he descended his mouth onto you. You were about to make a comment saying it wasn't the guard's fault, but the last thing you wanted him to do was take his tongue off you to reply, so you kept your thoughts to yourself. Aegon devoured you like your juices filled the fountain of life. You didn't care about all the women he had been with before you. Thanks to them, you get to have your cunt expertly eaten and fucked every night. He dragged himself away from you, he needed to remember what his goal was tonight.

Aegon left a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your clit to your mouth as he positioned his cock between your legs. He grabbed it and rubbed it up and down your slit, collecting your come to coat himself with. His face was so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath.

"There will be no moon tea tonight, wife."

You were both in a fiery, lust-filled daze, but you couldn't help but let out a little giggle. Being a mother was something you had always dreamed of, and it was finally going to happen. Aegon's passionate spell broke for a second as he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and then his focus was back in place. He was going to do everything in his power to give you what you wanted.

As the head of his cock entered you, he let out a deep groan. He savored the feeling of you wrapped around him as he sank further into you. He always stretched you out the perfect amount. No matter how many times you laid with him, it always hurt a little, but you had grown to love that burn, and without fail it instantly turned to pleasure.

Aegon wasted no time setting a savage pace. You needed this just as much as he did, and you welcomed it. His pounding somehow always felt calculated to the exact intensity that you craved. You never needed to tell him faster or harder, he and you were one mind during sex, there was no need to verbally communicate. Though no words were needed, neither of you could live without the praise of the other.

"You'll never have any idea how good it feels being inside of you, you're perfect," Aegon tells you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth as he continues his thrusts. You wrap your arms around Aegon's waist, needing to hold onto something sturdy. Time didn't exist in your chambers, the two of you could be having sex for hours, and it never felt long enough. You hated the emptiness of him not being inside of you. His curses and your moans echoed off the walls.

"I'm so close, Aegon, I need you," you cry.

His thrusts remained strong but began to falter, and you could tell he was right there with you. You took his mouth off of your breast and began kissing him. He broke the kiss and put his forehead against yours. You stared at each other, both of your eyes filled with years of passion and longing for this moment. Your orgasms crashed into the two of you at the same time, you had never longed to feel his seed more in your life. He stilled, flooding you with life.

Sometimes Aegon would keep his cock in you, and you’d fall asleep like that, joined together. Your warmth lulled him to sleep while he sucked on your breasts. This wasn’t one of those nights. After you relaxed around him, he pulled out of you, being careful not to let too much of his seed escape. He quickly put two fingers inside of you to keep it from spilling out. Aegon moved down your body until his face was back in its earlier position in front of your entrance.

"I'm not done with you yet, take some time to breathe," Aegon said as he bent down to start lapping at your clit. He kept his fingers firmly in you while he used his tongue to clean up his mess around it. His fingers moved in and out of you, wanting to make sure his seed covered every inch of your walls. He loved the taste of your come mixed with his and wished he could lick all of it. As much as he enjoyed watching his come spill out of you, he enjoyed the thought of you being with child more and had to push his other desires to the back of his mind.

You're not sure how Aegon thought you'd be able to manage to relax and catch your breath while he was sucking on your clit like it was a little treat. He was a master with his fingers, it was almost embarrassing how fast he was able to make you come whenever he went down on you.

"Are you going to be a good girl and come for me again?"

He knew calling you that was one of your weaknesses. Aegon was a talented multitasker during sex, pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers while using his other hand to pump himself. You started grinding yourself on his face and he let you. He loved being covered in your scent. When he felt you were about to orgasm again, he quickly got up, thrust his cock back into you, and began pounding again. There was no going slow and waiting for you to readjust to his size.

"Gods you're so tight. You want me to put a baby in you? Is that what you want?" Aegon asked, as he fucked you deeper than ever before.

"Yes, yes, that's what I want. Please, Aegon. I want you, I want everything," you whimper.

"You’ll walk around with a swollen belly, and I'll make sure every man in Westeros knows you're mine."

The pleasure from that familiar burn was starting to build, and you didn't know how much longer you'd be able to hold on. His thrusts were fast and powerful, he was leaving no room for error. You would be with child by the end of the night. You could feel your body tensing around him, your nails digging into his back was the final act to push him over the edge. The two of you came again, and this time he stayed in you, letting you milk his cock and bring his seed further into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him inside of you. He laid there with his full weight on top of you for a little while, exhausted. You loved it when he did that, his body hot from sex and his musk surrounding you, you felt safe. It was as if you were being shielded from the outside world, and you could focus on nothing but him. Being suffocated by his body would be a glorious death.

Aegon loved the feeling of your breasts pushed up against his chest, how soft and comforting they were. He couldn't wait until they grew heavy with milk, his child would be very lucky. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to lay on you like this anymore once you were with child was a little disappointing, but he was sure he'd think of alternatives. He imagined you on top of him while he did all the work fucking himself up into you. After you were done, he’d carefully move you so you were side by side, front to back, and he would wrap his arm around you and rub your belly. He heard some women go mad during pregnancy and need to be pleasured multiple times a day, he hoped you’d be one of them.

"I never wanted to be king or sit on the throne. The only thing I have ever desired is you. I wanted this war won for you and our baby, I love you more than anything, I hope you know that."

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen angst #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #hotd smut #hotd x reader

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jayden-killer · 9 months

Note

Heyaaa! Saw your requests were open, is it alright if I ask for moon knight with a reader who overworked themselves and sort of just collapsed? It's okay if not thankuuu <3

REASSURING WORDS.

Moonknight boys x gender neutral reader.

Omfg this is my first request IM SO HAPPY thank you so much for requesting and i hope you will like it!<33 Remember you can request at the top of my profile button, 'Ask me anything!'. :DD

☆

You know when work is so much, but like so much, and you don’t have a moment of peace? That. The workload I had accumulated in the days before was impressive, and I was almost amazed at the work I had to do. Eating seemed like a waste of time, drinking seemed like a waste of time... And if I needed to fulfill my duties, I had to do it without unnecessary breaks or interruptions. That’s why I warned my three boyfriends, Jake, Marc and Steven, not to worry about my sudden disappearance. ''Don’t worry, I just have a lot of work to do.' Xxx :)))' Something told me they would worry. They would understand, right?

Everything seemed so.. Complicated. Maybe, I should have continued. But the concentration began to disappear and slowly my eyes closed, and the breath regularized. Leaning my head on the wooden desk I closed my eyes, succumbing to the sleep so rejected.

«Love? Are you awake?»

A voice as sweet as honey brought me back to reality. I felt a sweet shake of my body, waking up from that 'nap' I had promised myself to have. And, in an instant, I found the hazel eyes that I loved so much about Steven. He smiled at me. «Love, I see that you’ve collapsed. What... What’s going on?» he asked me in a concerned tone.

Rubbing my eyes, I checked the time. 7.39 fucking pm. The last time I checked the time was 4.11 pm. Man, that nap took longer than I expected.

«It’s okay, Steven. The job’s just a lot, but I’ll be fine.»

He sighed loudly, fidgeting with his fingers. «Lovie, I know you have a lot to do. Believe me, I appreciate how much you try, but...It's dangerous for your health.»

«Hey, it's okay. I-I think...»

«You’re trying harder than you should.»

Steven’s sweet tone changed to a harsher one, yet concerned. Even his eyes changed from sweet to almost expressionless.

Marc. It could only be him.

«Hello to you too, Marc. And no, I’m sure I’m not putting my health at risk. I’d stop in time otherwise."

He made a mocking noise. «I, no, we know your habits very well. And we all know that you would risk your health for something as trivial as...this.» He pointed rather angrily at the work table, filled with papers to fill in and the computer, which had an open document not yet complete.

«Marc...»

Marc tilted his head to the side and stared at the computer screen. I turned to look where he was looking and thought he was seeing Jake’s reflection there. Suspicions were confirmed when he rested on the mental conversation he was having with the latter. «They're are not well! I can see that well, I am not stupid yet, man.»He Inhaled and shook his head, pinching his nose. «All right. Try talking to them, since you know what to do every time."

And here his facial features harden more than before, shifting to an expression of pure anger. Now Jake crossed his arms, but there was a half-smile on his face. «Florecito, Steven, Marc and I believe you should rest properly. So whether you want it or not, we will drag you into bed and let you relax. ¿Has entendido?»

Maybe I didn’t deserve them. I didn’t deserve how they paid me so much attention so easily, like it was the most normal thing in the world. I had always put work above everything else, risking losing even important hours of sleep for the previous day. Jake took me gently by the arm, so I got up from the chair and looked him right in the eyes. I could feel Steven and Marc behind those eyes.

«You’re right. I’m not gonna finish this without resting and eating at least.» I showed him a smile, and he smiled back, tracing the index finger on my forearm. «It’s my fault, florecito. Ah, ¡callense! Steven and Marc say that it’s not that I have to take all the credit.» I laughed at seeing my three guys fighting each other.«It’s thanks to all three of you that I’ll be better by tomorrow.» I left a kiss on Jake’s lips gently, and he took me by the hips, bringing me more to himself, adjusting his hair dishevelled.

«Ah, I’d be lost without your help, guys!»

#marvel imagine #steven grant x reader #marvel x reader #moon knight series #marc spector x reader #steven grant x y/n #moonknight x reader #moon knight #oneshot #jake lockley x yn #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x you #oscar isaac #sfw #comfort #request open #request

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whoahoney · 10 months

Note

For the celebration: Eddie, enemies to lovers, dialogue prompt: ‘Swallow.’ 💛💛

Honey’s 2k Fics!

CW: Minors DNI, mean!reader, fem/afab!reader, subby!eddie, a hint of jealousy, smut (oral f and m receiving, cum eating, semi public sex)

I loved writing this so much, I’ve just begun dabbling in enemies to lovers so I’m sorry if it isn’t like the others 💀🫶🏻 this was supposed to be a lil blurb but it just kept going lmao. Thank you for sending this in!!! I call this one… My Pleasure

Join the celebration

“Oh shit!” You gasp as his mouth closes around your cunt, the feeling so good you can’t even think about the wooden locker room bench biting into your back. “Fuck, c’mon—“ you grunt and roll your hips against his face.

He chuckles against you, the throaty satisfied melody humming through your core before he lifted his mouth only enough to mutter against your lips, “Someone’s eager—“ you cut him off by shoving his face back down.

“—not here to talk, Munson.” You say breathily, your building high already fleeing in the mere seconds he stopped working his oral magic against your cunt.

He nods and resumes eating, pressing his fingers into your thighs with more fervor. “Shit—yeah, just like that—“ you sigh out in relief and dig your fingers into the edge of the bench above your head.

This has been a regular thing for a couple weeks. A nice little hate fuck in the locker rooms after cheer practice ended and Eddie was done with—well, whatever it is he did.

Currently you were enjoying yourself the most you’d ever had and Eddie was well aware. He mapped your every move, every word, every sweet little noise he pulled from you with his tongue. He’d purposely tease and edge you to draw it out longer, wishing to keep his mouth on you as long as possible.

He couldn’t believe how far you’d come in only a couple of months, how comfortable you grew in front of him after making him question his skills the first time you met like this, your silence had been deafening.

The first time, he’d been locking up the drama room as you’d been shutting off lights in the gym. You hadn’t meant to engage but when he opened his mouth and let out a, “Well, who do we have here? Y’know the basketball team finished up a couple hours ago, aren’t you supposed to be cheering them on in the locker rooms?” He smirked at you as you pulled the double doors shut and scoffed.

“Jealous?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed this time as he turned to you fully and approached.

You wanted to swallow but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I mean, why are you so pressed about the basketball team for? Girlies aren’t lining up to go down on the freak?”

He tsks like it’s a challenge and steps closer. “No, actually they’re lining up for me to go down on them. How do you like them apples, cap’n?” He said so matter-of-factly you believed him.

No matter your effort, the air in your lungs was forced out by laugh of disbelief, maybe embarrassment or shock, but you clear your throat and maintain the hardness in your eyes.

Eddie looks awfully satisfied until you say, “I don’t see anybody.”

He smiles as if he wanted you to say it, “Looks like the line starts here, huh?” He looks you over with a predatory gleam and you arch an eyebrow, the intrigue peeking through.

Before you knew it you were turning on your heel and walking towards the door to the locker room. Eddie stood for a minute, glancing around and wondering if this was his rejection until you turn to him, “Well, are you coming?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “I want proof, Munson.” You say with a hidden smirk that set him on fire. A feral smile stretches across his face and he hurries after you, rubbing his hands together as if he were about to eat a fine meal.

You kept your cool the whole time, almost refusing to accept how good it felt, refusing to give yourself over to him. He was so tender with his touches, unlike anyone you’d been with. The kisses on your thighs were so foreign you jumped the first few pecks he laid down beneath your skirt.

The only thing that told Eddie you enjoyed yourself was the change in your breathing, otherwise you were quiet as a mouse. It wasn’t until you stopped breathing that he looked up at you—expecting you to be staring at him with the same disdainful look you always shot is way, but no. Your eyes were clamped shut and your jaw clenched, as if in discomfort.

He smirked and massaged your thighs to get your attention, “Tell me you like it, or I’ll stop.” He almost whispers.

Your mouth relaxes and your eyes pop open and you glance down at him as you breathe out, almost defeated, “…I do.” You say with a hint of shame in your tone. That same mischievous grin stretches on his face and he strokes your clit to make your breath shudder and your hips jerk.

“Stop teasing me.” You push at his forehead playfully, his smile widening as he leans back down.

“Stop holding back.” He says with delight and dives back in.

He savored every drop of you on his tongue that night, every squeak, squeal, and squirm he’d pulled out of you. He watched you ready yourself to leave, not bothering to wash his hands so he could savor the scent of you when he got himself off at home.

You sat there as he licked his fingers and held eye contact, “It was a pleasure.” He mumbled, stepping away.

You stare at him for a second and begrudgingly sigh and shake your head, suppressing a smile, “Indeed.”

It’s all he needed to hear before he was turning on his heel and gliding out the door.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a week of stolen looks in the cafeteria, in the hall as you passed, or even in class— you found yourself waiting outside of the drama room as Hellfire let out. You breathe out a puff of nervous air as freshman filed out, followed by the juniors that shot you curious looks—ones that told you they didn’t know. Why hadn’t he told them?

You nod at them indifferently as they walk out of the building, the pounding in your chest almost enough to convince you to follow them and walk to your car to go home and go to sleep and pretend you never considered him as an option again.

But you stayed. You stayed until that click of the knob sounded and your breath caught in your throat as he stepped out into the hallway, halting only for a moment before he smiled and shut the door the rest of the way.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he turns to lock the door, “What can I do for you?” He turns to you with an expectant smile, stepping up to lean against the lockers you’d gotten comfortable on.

You roll your eyes and try not to smile though you fail. “Was it… really a pleasure?” You ask.

Eddie swallows and nods, “Yeah,” he whispers before looking over his shoulder to find an empty hallway and then back to you, inching closer. “Why? Can’t stop thinking about me?”

You roll your eyes and turn to the gym, Eddie waiting again in his place against the lockers. “Am I suppose to follow?” He asked in a whisper yell.

You turn to him as you lean against the doors and say, “Duh!”

He gleefully follows you again.

Again and again, he waits for you, you wait for him, and he gives you the best head you’d ever imagined possible.

At school, your shitty comments had stopped and Eddie began to worry about you. Were you pulling away? Was this your way of icing him out? He thought about asking you the next Friday, if you were still comfortable with it all.

It wasn’t until lunch rolled around and Jason tripped him on his way past that he heard you speak, “Jason! Why are you so obsessed with him?” You crooned with a smile. The jocks started laughing, some even made kissy noises at Jason, while Eddie met your gaze and righted himself, finding your smile on him—til you noticed he was staring then you bit the inside of your cheek with a blush, stabbing another limp green bean on your fork.

After that, you’d gotten brave and let his hands wander up your shirt, your whines and writhing hips making him chuckle against you every time—until you shoved his hands away and grabbed him by the hair to grind your pussy against his face.

You thought it’d piss him off but he only moaned into your pussy and shook his head till you gushed. That was the first time you’d cried out his name as you finished.

It rang in his ears til he came in his fist an hour later at home.

You were always left with lingering thoughts about him; if he thought about you, if he got himself off after, why he never asked for anything in return, and then of course— who else is he fucking around with? How does he know how to do it so good??

The thought made your stomach twist—in disgust, of course. Cause you couldn’t ever be jealous of another girl with Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

Okay maybe a little.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you walk in the hall, you’re debating on stopping this arrangement with Eddie, or telling him how you feel. How you can’t stop thinking about his stupid face, or the way he looks at you when he kneels before you as you undress for him. The way he chuckles at your banter and always knows what to say back or when he encourages you with sweet nothings that you’d never known you wanted to hear from anyone, let alone him.

“That’s it, that’s it, atta girl,”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Such a sweet little pussy, baby,”

“Mmm—so wet for me.”

They echoed through your head at the worst times, making your thighs clench in class and your cheeks redden at how your insides turn to liquid at the mere thought of him. Not to mention the way your stomach flipped at the sight of him.

Him and his stupid smile, and stupid hair. And his stupid fucking fingers that you wanted in your mouth, in your hair, in your hands as you played with his dumb janky rings that you found yourself staring at more lately because you know exactly what they feel like on your clit, and no idea how they feel in your hand.

And currently, they were twirling a lock of hair that didn’t belong to you.

You stop in your tracks and spot Eddie at his locker and Heather Prosser leaning next to it. She was also a cheerleader.

A very pretty one.

And a stupid fucking bitch.

You watch for a moment as she flashes a smile and bats her lashes at him, asking about meeting up soon. He tosses the strand over her shoulder and tsks before he looks up from her with a keen smile—until his gaze lands on you and the daggers you were shooting at him.

His smile fell and his shoulders slumped. As he glanced back to Heather and shut his locker, you want to turn on your heel and run away to your car and drive home.

How could you be so stupid.

Obviously he got what he wanted—the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable and weak for him after years of the back and forth bullshit you always sorta looked forward to. It didn’t mean the same for him—any of it.

Before you know it you’re marching up to him and grabbing him by the wrist, looking her dead in the eye before you say, “Bye, Heather!” and pull him along.

Heather scoffs as you bypass her and drag him away, your heart pounding so hard in your chest you fear he might feel it in your hand.

The bell rings and you pull him into the locker room, which you know will be vacant til the end of school in two hours.

You push through first and glance around, noticing the static quiet surrounding you and turn to him as the door clicks shut.

He’s quick to find your waist, your hands resting up on his chest as his fingers stroke at your lower back beneath your shirt. “Tell me why.” He quietly demands.

You shrug your shoulders and avoid his eye, “I dunno, Eddie.”

He scoffs, “Well, do you want me, or do you just not want to see me with anyone else?” He asks quieter than before.

You scrunch your brow at him, “… both, duh.” You find your hands on his face for the first time, his cheeks soft yet prickled with stubble you were well acquainted with between your thighs.

Eddie melts into your touch and nods, “Well, luckily for you… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about…” he blushes this time and your smirk finally returns, “What?” You ask with a daring smile. “Tell me.”

His eyes meet yours and he bites his lip before answering, “Having you all to myself.”

You nod, “I think that could be arranged,” you bite your lip and his heart thunders beneath your touch. “But there’s something I have to do, first. Before we make this little thing official.” You trace along his chain and tug the guitar pick at the end of it before tugging him along by it.

His cock throbs in his pants at the sight, that hungry look in your eyes he found set on him in more places than just the locker room these days.

But now it was more than just hunger. It was true desire. Little did he know how much you paid attention before all of this, not to mention the tabs you kept on him since you found out about his… talents.

You knew the music he liked, and that it wasn’t half bad. You knew he was a total dork about a book you had to read in middle school and he’d read it so much he could quote it (against your skin, more recently).

That he was in a band and he’d played guitar since he was 8 and was supposedly really fucking good. You believe every bit of that claim due to the magic he worked on you with only his fingers.

You knew he was respectful and caring, and could take a lot of shit for no goddamn reason.

You also knew he liked it when you wound your fingers in his hair and tugged at the roots. That he liked it when you used him and that he was a fucking giver.

Not to mention how handsome he was.

And you knew there were a million other things to learn about him. Things you wouldn’t want anyone else to know, because he was yours.

And that you didn’t want to see anyone ever touch him again, ever.

You push him into a shower cubical and shut the curtain, his eyes shining and mouth gaping in awe as you strip off your shirt and drop to your knees. Your hand flattens against his chest to push him the rest of the way against the wall.

“My turn, Munson.” You curl your fingers around his belt loops and his hips involuntarily rock. He groans softly and you smile widely, as he caresses your cheek.

“Show me what you can do, baby.” He says as his thumb sweeps down your cheekbone and across your bottom lip, to which you open your mouth and stick out your tongue and chest.

“Oh, I like this.” He smiled as you wrap your lips around his digit and sucked. “Shit, baby, are you a freak?”

Your eyes open and you slide off his thumb with a small pop, your hands working at his belt. “I’ll let you decide.”

“Shit.” He smiles and slumps against the wall his hands glued to his thighs as you work his jeans open and palm his rock hard cock til he sighs in relief.

“You’re gonna use me, okay, Eddie? I want you to.” You nuzzle your face against his balls until he responds with an, “Ah, shit!” And laces his fingers at the back of your hair. “My pleasure.” He says and lets you pull his pants down past his ass, soon followed by his boxers.

His dick springs up and your mouth drops at the sight. It was long and thick, the tip an angry red and the shaft the same color his cheeks turned when he blushed.

“Oh my go—“ but you can’t finish because Eddie’s already sliding it in and groaning out, “Fuuuuck!”

He starts slow, deliberate strokes, only halfway down his shaft, his fingers winding into your hair. Your hands cover his, and your feel his fingers searching for yours and you moan around his cock.

“That’s it… so pretty—my pretty girl.” He whispered down to you. You open your eyes to find his set on you, his pace quickening and strokes getting deeper. Your eyes water but your gaze is practically desperate— and he can’t fathom that it’s for him.

He groans out another pretty sound at the contact, your unbreakable stare that soon grows smug again, at how desperate he is for you.

You start bobbing in time with his thrusts and hollowing your cheeks and it nearly makes him keel over right then and there. He lurches and leans over and his grip slides from your hair to your cheeks, his thrusts still consistent, yet you could tell he was holding back. You push him deeper til he hit the back of your throat and he whines out openly. You match it with a whine of your own and your panties dampen.

He stays hunched over you as he fucks your face and soon you feel his hands working at the clasp of your bra til it popped open. You give a surprised little yelp and shimmy it the rest of the way off for him. He leans back against the wall and pushes you off his cock gently to get a good look at you.

He fists his spit slicked dick, and watches you, bare chested and on your knees for him. “Touch yourself.” He orders you quietly. “Lemme watch you play with those gorgeous tits.”

A lupine smile tugs at your cheeks and you arch your back for him before caressing the sides of your breasts for him, pushing them together and squeezing them, “Like this?”

“Yeah…” he whispers before spitting on his hand and stroking himself harder. You pinch and roll your nipples before you start a slow rhythm on the heel of your foot, your chest softly bouncing along.

“Oh yeah, keep going, pretty girl…” he smiles down at you, his hips fucking into his fist. You hold your tits for him and hold his eye, your smile blooming again. “Where do you want me to—“

“On me?” You say without hesitation, smoothing your hands from your stomach all the way up over your breasts and neck. “…In my mouth?” You suggest and he freezes before he nods.

“Yeah, baby, get back here.” He mutters as he grips you by the hair and pushes his cock back inside to start a brutal pace that sends you gagging without much time to recover. “Aww, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He mutters to you absently as he works closer to his release.

Your hands start at his hips before one sneaks down to his balls to massage and roll in hand, and his hips stutter before he’s able to warn, “I’m gonna— awww!” He groans out and spills his load into your mouth, whimpering when he feels you continue to suck, as if demanding every drop.

You finally pull off him, your mouth obviously full as you look up at him. He leans over, a finger on your chin before he demands, “Swallow.” In a bone chilling whisper.

You gulp it down and let your tongue swipe over your lip before he’s tugging you up by the arm and pressing his mouth to yours for the first time.

“That was so good, baby.” He whispered against your lips before you chuckled and pushed away from him to pull on your bra and shirt, ignoring the dumb smile he gave you as you dressed—the same way he always looked at you.

“Oh, c’mon, Munson.” You say before pulling your shirt over your head, “—it was my pleasure.” You mock him.

A wild smile stretches across his face before he’s on you in an instant, pulling you to him to kiss again and again, “A pleasure Indeed.” He teases before kissing your nose.

#honeys house party #honeys 2k celebration #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #honeys fic recs #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson enemies to lovers #mean!reader

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mrskokushibo · 10 months

Text

Kyojuro x s/o reader on her period - headcanons

A/N: Requested by Anon.

Warnings: None. Slightly suggestive content at times, but only because you guys have dirty minds : ). So yeah, this is SFW.

Masterlist

Gif by @gamergirl-niffler

• It really seems like you are the luckiest girl in the world. Kyojuro is a gentle and caring boyfriend, always ready to make your day a little brighter. His funny antics and enthusiasm could sway a hippo. And his smile? Well…that really is as if the sun suddenly materialised into human form.

• He will literally do anything for you. So, when that difficult time of the month arrives, he is there to help you ease through it. Your periods are heavy and painful, with cramps so bad that you sometimes are about to faint. You also get extra grumpy before your monthly nuisance.

• He knows you well enough to be able to tell what’s coming. On those days preceding your period, he will make sure to keep you busy with various distractions. You are very active, which comes with the territory of being this strong and athletic Hashira’s girl, so he will take you out for a nice hike in the woods or go and try the new gym in town. Either way, he will make sure your mind is occupied to keep your PMS-gloom at bay.

• You are both usually starved after physical activities, and will almost always end up at your favourite restaurant overeating and laughing at his lame jokes. (His sense of humour is borderline dorky).

• Back at home, well, you know…you will most likely head to the bedroom and, yeah… (use your imagination for this one, kiddos : ))

• But then it comes. The first cramp and the pulling sensation on the side of your belly and hips, tension and pain radiating down your thigh. Your period has arrived.

• The first two days are often the hardest on you. You may sometimes need to stay in bed. That’s when his caring side gets to shine. He will tuck you in with extra blankets, maybe even organise fresh bedsheets so that you can feel extra cozy. There will be teddies and soft cushions everywhere and he will get a few interesting new books for you to read.

• As your periods are fairly regular, he will plan his missions around them to secure that he can be home with you when you need him the most.

• He cooks for you. And what I mean by this is that there will be more food than you can humanly consume. He actually is quite good at cooking, but where he really shines, are sweets. You swear, that if it wasn’t for all the exercise you both get (both sports and other, mhm, activities), you would be fat by now. Because there is so much food, he often ends up inviting Senjuro or the other Hashira over so that the food does not go to waste.

• He will be spoon-feeding you your favourite desserts, luscious chocolate mousse with fresh berries and a hint of vanilla or homemade ice cream with choc-fudge sauce. If you get any of it on your chin, he will wipe it off for you, dabbing your skin gently with a napkin. And…if any of it ends up dropping somewhere else on you, he will use his finger to wipe it off, slowly running it on your soft skin and looking you in the eye with an innocent smile. He knows how much you like his touch and what it does to you… He is not that innocent, after all…

• He loves every bit of you, so if that action makes you crave something else than food, well, who is he then to deny you your wish? That surely is a great way to relieve period pain…He will make sure to lay out towels and have napkins at hand so that the mess is easy to clean up. And since we talk about cleaning up, he will carry you to the bathroom afterward and shower you, dress you in fresh panties and a safety pad, and give you a relaxing massage when you are back in bed.

• Once the worst days are over, he will take you out shopping followed by movies and dinner. And if you choose to stay home, then he will order your favourite take-away and have a movie marathon with you.

• He is big on giving cuddles. He will have you sit in his lap, your head cuddled into his toned chest, his unruly hair tickling your face in a cute way and his strong arms wrapped around you. He doesn’t mind if you want to stay like this for hours. He will gently rub your back and tell you stories from his missions if you are in the mood for listening to that. Otherwise, he will just stay silent and offer his comforting warmth to him.

• And when your period is over…well, as a loving girlfriend, you always make sure to show your gratitude and appreciation in a way he never forgets, and that always makes him crave for more…

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misguidedasgardian · 11 months

Text

Desire & Duty (Prologue)

Prologue

Summary: In the midst of family feud Aemond discovers yours and Helaena’s little secret

Pairings: Helaena x Targaryen!sister reader, Aegon II x Helaena, future Aemond x Targaryen!reader x Helaena

Warnings: Medieval ASOIF Customs, canon incest, cursing, polyamorous, incestous polygamy, Aemond is oblivious to girl on girl love 😂, a visit to a pleasure house, skin trade, girl on girl action 🔥, oral sex (m receiving), use of the word whore, this chapter is to set a tone.

Wordcount: 1.7 k

Notes: Ufff welcome to another one of my cray cray. ANYWAYS, this is going to be short, I’m thinking 3 more chapter besides this one, I just want to make it short and sweet and kinky

Aemond was summoned by his brother and King, late at night, to his private chambers, he found him disheveled, perhaps disturbed

“What is the matter, brother?”, for Aemond it wasn’t unusual to find his brother drinking and made a mess out of himself, but today, tonight, something did seemed truly off with him, something was bothering him

“I discovered my beautiful sister wife has a lover”, he said with a cynical smile, as he emptied his cup in a last big gulp

“Helaena? that is not possible”, he said, chuckling darkly

“Yes it is, and you won’t believe who it is”, he continued his teasing

“Who?”, he asked, truly concerned

“Our baby sister”, he offered with a sick smile.

Aemond felt like his cheeks were on fire, he retrieved the looks out of Aegon’s face to look into the hearth. Looking for an explanation of why suddenly he felt like he could burst into flames.

“That is not possible”, he muttered, “they are both girls… and… they are innocent”, Aegon laughed cruelly, serving himself another cup

“You don’t think two girls can be lovers? didn’t I teach you anything?”

“Those were mere whores”, he said dismissively, “these are our sisters…”

“Who enjoy fondling each other too much”, he said bitterly, and Aemond couldn’t believe his audacity

“You cheat on Helaena and commit adultery almost every night”, he threw on his face, “you have fucked every whore in the street of silk!, and you are angry because Helaena spends too much time with our baby sister?”

“Yes, “too much time”, he mocked. Aegon seemed resigned, but Aemond was not, he was curious and flushed

“Have you… seen them?”, he asked sheepishly, and Aemond cursed when he felt his pants too tight from imagining his sweet sisters together. Aegon looked at him, and reading him like a book, he draw a sick smile

“I haven’t had the pleasure”, he mocked, “but something tells me you do want to see them together”, Aemond cleared his throat that it was suddenly too dry

“No, I'm just concerned, (Y/N) es but a young girl, she is to be betrothed soon, and she shouldn’t be…”

“Finger-fucking my wife?”, he asked, amused

“Aegon!”, he chided, “they are our sisters! they deserve respect!”

“Well, for what I’ve heard, they are not so different from the whores I like to fuck”

“Why are you taking this so harshly?”, he asked then, “it is preferable they share each other's company than the company of men”, Aegon laughed cruelly

“I’m just sad they don’t invite me to join them”, he mocked, but Aemond didn’t believe that is all it was to his brother’s nuisance. He finished his tenth cup of wine from the evening and ten turned to his brother, grabbing his shoulder harshly

“We might not get to see them, but we can see others…”

Aemond admitted it to himself, thinking of his two sisters together did make his cock stiff inside his leather trousers, them both being so sweet, he imagines their soft warm hands on each other, and their sweet kisses

Maybe that is why his desire made him follow Aegon, in disguise, to lose themselves into the streets of silk.

He followed his brother to the most exclusive pleasure house they could find. Were Aegon was a regular

The madam was thrilled when she saw Aegon had brought his younger brother. Since his introduction into the world of pleasure, when he was thirteen, he had never returned to any of the brothels of the street of silk, they would know, the madams all talked amongst themselves.

And he just had walked into her establishment, she needed to show him the best she had.

“My princes”, she greeted, “welcome to my fine establishment”, for once, Aemond let Aegon do the talking for him, as he dealt with the madame, he looked around with his hands tightly grasped behind his back. He followed the pair when she led them towards one of their most beautiful rooms

Aegon whispered something to the madame, and she only smiled knowingly, she then turned to Aemond

“We have someone very special for you, we brought her all the way from Lys”, purred the madame, clapping her hands, through the doors appeared a beautiful woman, and Aemond’s air got caught in his throat

The young woman had silver hair, and deep purple eyes just like his sisters, her skin was pale and unblemished, from behind she could clearly pass as one of you.

Aegon chose another, a dornish girl with beautiful features, both girls led them towards the sitting area, filled with exquisite fabrics and cushions for the most confort. Aemond, normally, would be sickened by the touch of a woman of the skin-trade, but tonight was different, this young woman was different.

While he let this woman push him towards the sofa, two more girls entered the room.

“Aegon”, Aemond called, but his brother was deep in his cups and in his desire, the dornish woman already kneeling between his thighs

But the two that just entered the room paid no mind to both men, as they started kissing and caressing each other right in front of them, over a huge bed placed in the middle of the room

Aemond hadn't visited a pleasure house since that time Aegon took him on his thirteen name day, but tonight he let the Lys woman pleasure him, kneeled between his thighs and his cock in her mouth, while he and Aegon watched two women love each other in front of them.

You and Helaena… at the very same time, far away…

It was strange to refer to you both, together.

You never meant to fall for your own sister, it all started so innocently. You would seek each other for company, to soothe your worries in the uncomfortable family climate. Helaena was a sweet and kind soul, gentle and caring, and Aegon always treated her horribly, you had always been good friends, you had vivid memories of her caring for you since you were a little girl, she would braid your hair, and help you dress, you were his baby sister, and she loved you and you loved her back. She was your loving big sister

But in the comfort of Helaena’s chambers…

“Everything is going to be alright”, you whispered sweetly, as you cradled her face in the palm of your hand, Helaena leaned into your touch, and you caressed the apple of her cheek with your thumb

‘

“I have horrible nightmares every day”, she whimpered

“They are just nightmares”, you whispered, but she only shook her head

“You know they are not”, it was true, your sister had dragon dreams, she was a dreamer

“What have you seen?”, you asked then

“War, blood spilled”, she whispered. “someone taking you away”

“Someone awful?”, you asked, she shook her head

“Since we are in the midst of war, they will want to sell you out for an alliance”, she said with her eyes filled with tears, “they will betroth you soon…”

“I won’t let them”, you said, “I won’t leave your side”

“You would go against mom?”, she asked, hope in her beautiful eyes

“Maybe she would betrothe me to Aemond”, you said, she shook her head

“He would like that, he won’t let you go either”, she smiled gently, “I can see it in his eye, he loves you, he is going to ask mom to marry you both”

“We both know we need to make alliances, and Aemond and I are the only ones that can make them through marriage”, you said bitterly

“You were always the smartest one”, she whispered, you smiled warmly at her, and she smiled back at you

“If mother and grandfather want to marry me off for an alliance to make us stronger, I will say yes”, you warned, but your eyes filled with tears as did Helaena’s, “but it will break my heart to leave you”, she nodded, understanding, “that is what I will do to keep us safe”

“I know”, she said, she leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly

“Is it wrong?”, you asked against her lips, “what we do in the night?”, you didn’t know any better, your mother had refused, with strong determination, to never let you hear anything regarding men, pleasure, not even bedding or “baby making”, so who better person to ask than your married sister?

You were a curious, and very… driven… young girl

“What does your heart tell you?”, she asked then, and you shook your head

“That it isn't”, you admitted with rosy cheeks, and she smiled back, “but I still… want to feel a man between my thighs”, she giggled

“So do I”, she said back and you laughed

“Maybe Aegon can take me as a second wife”, you suggested, but she frowned

“No..”, she whispered, “I do not wish for that, but… indeed, the dragon has three heads”, she said, and you looked at how her pupils enlarged like those of a kitten, she leaned in, kissing you, but this time, it was hungrier, more passionate

Her sweet hands managed to lower your night dress, releasing your breasts, and she was on them in a second leaving your mouth dropping wet kisses down your neck, his soft hand touching your breasts, with care, and devotion. You moaned softly.

“Helaena”, you called, like a prayer, and she only hummed against your skin, her thumbs playing with one of your nipples while she kissed and sucked on the other.

You moaned more louder, not caring if the guard posted outside your doors listened, they were probably used to it by now

“Where is Aegon?”, you asked in the middle of your bliss, Helaena abandoned your body, only to undress, you did the same, ridding yourself of your light night dress. She straddled you and you could help but place your hands on her hips, you then caressed her skin until you reached her breasts

“i don’t care”, she answered, looking down at you with adoration, you smiled right back at her

“What if he found out?”, you asked innocently

“Oh, I bet he’d like to join”, she giggled, leaning in and kissing you again.

taglist, (for those who showed interest when I pitched it! ❤️❤️🔥🔥

@sloppy0bitch @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsdelight @floofdeloop

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imaginmatrix · 5 months

Note

zutara au where katara is an up and coming model/actress and zuko is the closed off guy who serves her tea at the shop next to her apartment.

Okay. Look. Listen. Against all odds, despite them filling all my favorite tropes, I do not actually… ship Zutara. I don’t read fics of them, I’ve never written them— which is wild, right? Wacky? Crazy? Doesn’t make sense. I know. I agree. Idk.

So I wrote this anyway and I have no clue what the fandom is like or how they characterize these characters but HERE WE GO DIVING IN HEADFIRST ANYWAY LETS GO

Katara already knew her and her brother had wildly different priorities— but moving into her new apartment proved that Sokka existed on an entirely different plane of reality.

“My sister has the cash to live anywhere she wants, but she picks a place next to the weirdest building in the city.” He had grumbled the day of the move, which kind of pissed Katara off.

Not because he called the building weird, but because that was his issue with it.

He should have been far more upset with the fact that the skyscraper belong to Ember Corp.

Katara pointed this out to him, to which Sokka only shrugged in reply, “I figured you didn’t care about that seeing as you moved in next door anyway.”

And then she had to stomp away in a huff to stop herself from snapping at him, because that would be hypocritical and ridiculous; but it wasn’t like she moved in next to the corporation that demolished their family’s home and community for parking lots because she didn’t care!

She did care! A lot! Maybe too much!

But then that was why she chose this apartment; the skyscraper next door wasn’t just a skyscraper.

Like Sokka said, it was…

Weird.

Good weird.

To be fair, Ba Sing Se as a whole was a little weird— a hodgepodge of shiny, towering buildings and ancient temples and Spiritbucks and cobblestones and sky trolleys.

No structure could compare to this one.

From a distance, it looked like a regular skyscraper; the architecture was more creative than most, but it didn’t stand out.

Then one’s gaze would travel down, and there, at the base…

A tea shop.

An old tea shop.

It wasn’t even all that fancy, though there were pieces that hinted at a rich history— the small, painted wood pillars on either side of the door, the round windows with various designs etched into them, and the roof— oh the roof! A beautiful hip-and-gable one with the edges flared up and rust red shingles that complimented the muted green of the shop itself.

Katara loved it.

And the fact that a skyscraper had been built atop was so ludicrous it made her dizzy.

She’d once asked Toph why it was like that, and in turn Toph explained that the rumor was that the old guy who owned the shop had been offered a ton of money from Ember Corp for the location. He refused to sell, but reportedly told them he’d be willing to sell the air above his shop for the same price, and a promise that his shop would stay— he wasn’t selling the land, after all.

So they reinforced the shop and foundation to be able to bear the weight, and just like that, a new skyscraper had risen above the city.

Katara only went to the tea shop.

She wasn’t sure what about it was so enticing. Maybe it was how peaceful it was; even when the giant sliding doors were left open in the summer, the noise of the city never seemed to penetrate the shop fully. The smell of tea soothed her. It was soft, and sweet, and earthy, and strangely reminded her of home.

Which was wildly different in culture, but… she felt safe here. Like she had at home. Before it was taken.

That could be the reason she came— she liked seeing something old and ancient stand up to an entity like Ember Corp. It filled her with satisfaction to see something refuse to give in to intimidation, to be immovable in the face of “innovation.”

It was almost sacred in a way.

So she found herself stopping by every morning on the way to work— be it a photoshoot or commercial or audition— for some matcha to perk her up. And every evening, if the shop was still open, she’d grab a Jasmine brew on the way home.

The owner was so kind, a round, elderly man with a gravely voice filled with mirth. He insisted on being referred to as “Uncle Iroh,” which Katara didn’t mind. Sokka was her only family in the city, as their Gran and Father and what remained of their community migrated to the southern towns after their neighborhood was sold out from under them.

She could use an Uncle these days.

On one particular morning she was running late. She whirled into the shop, juggling various items while she searched her purse— sunglasses, phone, the audition packet, chapstick, planner, book for the trolley— ah! Wallet!

But when Katara turned to the counter, it wasn’t Uncle Iroh who she saw; a grumpy looking guy stood there, shaggy hair falling in gold eyes. Those eyes were what she noticed first, bright and intense and filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place— anger? Contempt? For… her?

The scar, she noticed second. Which upon reflection was a little ridiculous, considering that the angry deep red color and mottled flesh took up nearly half of his face. Not that it should have been what people saw first when they looked at him, she was certain he probably hated it being pointed out, but it was hard to miss.

They stared at each other a moment.

“…Hi?” Katara ventured, less confused by the new employee than the fact that he apparently had no customer service skills. No “Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon!” or “Can I take your order?” or even a rude “What do you want?”

The boy’s brow just furrowed deeper, which seemed almost impossible, yet there he was— basically one big furrow at this point.

“…Um…” When it became clear the grumpy employee had no intention of being friendly, Katara ventured, “Can I have a hot matcha to go?”

She waited anxiously as he punched the order in, finally speaking, “That’ll be six yuans.”

It was Katara’s turn to be the furrower. “Six? It’s usually three, isn’t it?”

This was met with an eye roll and a breathy huff, “My Uncle is… let’s just say he gives discounts more often than he should.”

Katara lamented that the new price would likely mean she’d only have one tea stop a day rather than two, but didn’t argue as she zipped open her wallet, uninterested in prolonging this weird interaction that made her more and more late by the second. She passed the rectangular coins over, and the boy dropped them into the register before turning on his heel to prepare the tea.

That was weird.

But so was a tea shop with a skyscraper balanced atop.

She crossed her arms, checking her phone for the time over and over again. Why was this taking so long?

Katara leaned over the counter to see what the boy was doing, and blinked. The kettle was—

“Are you… are you boiling water?!”

He frowned back at her— though it was likely just a regular look, if frowning was his default state as it appeared to be. “…I don’t know how you make hot tea, but here we boil it.”

“Yes but—“ Katara cut herself off, biting her tongue so that she could calm the ever growing frustration bubbling within. Sokka said she was hot headed, ironic considering where their ancestors came from. Finally, she managed to speak with an even, calm tone; “You have a boiling water tap.”

“…A what?”

Dear Spirits, this guy...

“The owner, he only uses the kettle at night when it’s less busy, for a more authentic experience. In the mornings, he uses the tap— or an electric kettle.”

The guy glanced around. “Because the mornings are so busy?”

To be fair, the shop was empty at the moment. Katara wondered if it was due to the upcoming holiday.

“Yes.” Katara ground out through gritted teeth.

He shrugged in response. “There’s no rush now, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is!” She finally burst out, “It is a big deal! I’m late for work!”

The boy seemed taken aback for a moment, blinking at her. Then his face hardened. “It’s not my problem if you didn’t leave early enough.”

“But it is your problem that you don’t know how to do your job correctly!” Katara snapped back.

This seemed to rile up the guy even more, his nostrils flaring, “I didn’t even want—“

He was interrupted by the scream of the kettle, and he turned his back on her to remove it from the heat. Katara rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache encroach on the edges of her consciousness.

It only grew when she looked up to see him dropping a teabag into the cup of water.

“What are you doing?!” She demanded, aghast.

He glanced up, confusion mingling with his frustration this time. “Making tea?”

“I asked for matcha!” Her voice was shrill now, but she couldn’t help it— who hired this guy?!

“…Is this not matcha…?”

“That’s green tea!” And in a bag rather than an infuser, no less!

“Matcha is green tea though.”

“It’s prepared differently!” Katara leaned further over the counter, her braid hanging over the opposite edge as she craned her neck, “Look, Uncle Iroh keeps the materials right there under—“

“Hey, don’t lean over here like that!”

“Or what?” She retorted as the guy stalked towards her, “Mad that I know this place better than you do?”

With the way his eyes narrowed, he was indeed mad about that. “No, I’m not— the money is over here!” He waved his hands at her in a shooing motion. At least he had the intelligence to know not to put his hands on her.

Katara snorted. “Do I look like a robber?”

“You look like a pain in the—“

“Nephew? I heard the kettle…” A sleepy voice interrupted them, and Katara quickly straightened from being sprawled over the counter as a bleary-eyed Uncle Iroh parted the curtains to stare at them.

“Uncle, this girl—“ he pointed, “should be banned from the shop.”

Uncle Iroh yawned, turning his gaze to Katara. Then he brightened. “Ah, Miss Katara, a pleasure to see you— picking up your usual, I take it?”

“Well, yes, but…” she hesitated. A moment ago she had been ready to go ballistic, but Iroh had called the guy ‘Nephew’… so he was his literal uncle? Tattling to family felt a bit childish. “It’s fine.”

“Is it now? Well, I see you’ve met my nephew, Katara, this is—“

“Lee.” The boy interrupted immediately, his hand flying up to cover the name tag pinned to his apron, “My name is Lee.” He looked meaningfully at his Uncle, who merely shrugged.

“He will be working here from now on, so I hope that…” Iroh’s voice trailed off as his gaze wandered to the cup of tea. He blanched. “Z— Lee, did Katara ask for green tea?”

It was Lee’s turn to go pale. “Well, she asked for matcha, and that’s basically—“

Uncle Iroh groaned as he hurried to the tea, nose wrinkling in disgust, “And a bag, too! Where did you even find— no, no bags! We use these!” He waved around an infuser wildly, and Lee grew more indignant.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?! Why do you have teabags if we don’t—“

“Never mind that!” Uncle Iroh bustled around, scooping the matcha into the chawan to whisk, “Clearly you are far worse off than I thought— what has your father been teaching you?”

“Business! And finances, and—“ a furtive glance was shot towards Katara, “and things way more important than making tea!”

“Bah!” Iroh finished whisking and began to prepare the drink, “Very few things in life are more worth knowing than this.” He snapped the lid onto the cup and passed it over the counter with a cheery smile, “There you are my dear, I hope it’s to your liking.”

Katara was already speeding for the door with a wave, “I’m sure it’ll be perfect as always— see you tonight?”

“We’ll be open— and I’ll make sure my Nephew knows how to at least brew jasmine by then.”

“Uncle.”

Katara jogged to the sky trolley stop, her mind racing a bit. Uncle Iroh said Lee would be working there from then on… and if today was anything to go by, her once peaceful escape was about to become a whole lot more stressful.

Unfortunately, slinking into the agency thirty minutes after she was supposed to did not go unnoticed. But the lecture about professionalism and punctuality in the industry was brief, and the day passed in a blur. Lee was nowhere to be found during her evening stop, though Uncle Iroh was appalled to discover that he had charged Katara full price for the matcha. He insisted on giving her the evening mug of piping hot jasmine at no cost, and she took up her usual place on the patio to sit and read and relax before tromping up to her apartment.

The weeks passed fast, and to Katara’s dismay, Lee was now there every time she stopped in.

Figures. Her luck had always gone overboard to balance out— placed first in the third grade spelling bee? Broke her arm on the way home. High school valedictorian? Congratulations, your childhood home is being bulldozed! Career picking up? An annoying man now works at your favorite place in the world.

…Maybe one of those things wasn’t like the others, but it still irked her.

But Lee didn’t speak to her again beyond the curt welcome he gave everyone, the exchanging of funds (he gave her the Uncle Iroh discount now,) and the call of her name when the tea was at the counter.

Katara didn’t like hearing her name on his lips. It was wrong. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, made her body tighten and squirm in an uncomfortable way.

A fight or flight response, she reasoned.

And then one evening, he didn’t call it.

She was curled in the plush chair that Iroh always let her drag to the patio in the evenings. Days were getting longer again, so the sun hadn’t quite set yet, casting a golden glow between buildings.

The day had been exhausting; three auditions and two photoshoots. Katara had been up since 3am for the first shoot, but despite her yawns and heavy lids, she couldn’t resist the allure of Iroh’s tea.

Katara was reading. Well, she thought she was reading; but when the sound of a clearing throat made her eyes flutter open, the sky was much darker and the streets bathed in blue rather than gold.

Her head felt cotton-y in the way it did when one took an impromptu nap, and she yawned, looking up from her curled up position on the chair to see Lee standing next to her.

“Ah— sorry, is it closing time…?” She began to straighten out, reaching for her bag, but Lee shook his head.

“No, uh… no. I just… here.” He held out the teacup. “Free refill.”

Katara blinked, “Oh.”

Lee shifted uncomfortably, and it took a moment for Katara to realize what she was seeing; he was nervous. “If you don’t want it, I can—“

“No, no I do!” She nodded to the side table, placing the book that had become wedged between her and the cushions on it as well. “Tell your Uncle thank you.”

“Uncle’s not here.” Lee said. Then he hesitated. “I… I can tell him when he gets back.”

Katara reached for the cup. It smelled amazing, and she sipped at the rich, floral drink. It was different than usual, but good different.

So she took a deeper sip, licking her lips as droplets clung to them.

Her face lifted to Lee, who was shifting his weight back and forth anxiously. Anticipating.

And then it hit her.

“You made this?” She asked— since that first meeting, Lee had only made one of her orders when his Uncle had stepped out. It had been rather disappointing.

“Uh… yeah.”

“It’s really good.” To her surprise, Lee almost smiled, the corners of his lips tugging up as his body relaxed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “Did you add something different…?”

“A few things— Uncle thinks that jasmine is best on its own but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I… got bored.”

“Well maybe you should be bored more often if this is the result.”

The furrow that lived between Lee’s brow and where another brow once grew smoothed in surprise— no, that wasn’t a strong enough word for it— shock? The emotion was fleeting, gone in an instant, though his face managed to retain its new relaxed state. “That’s the second compliment you’ve given me. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.”

Katara surprised herself by laughing. “You gave me a free drink, so maybe I should buy one too.”

Lee ran a hand through his hair, revealing how his scar stretched up to his forehead; “Well, uh, I should—“

“Do you want to sit for a second?”

Lee immediately, wordlessly dragged one of the patio chairs up next to her in response, flopping into it.

They sat in silence for a minute, watching the occasional car pass by.

Then Katara couldn’t help herself; “Why did you start working here? You didn’t seem like you liked tea all that much.”

Lee sighed, his hand mussing up his hair again; he did that a lot, as if he wasn’t used to having so little of it. “I… messed up big time back home.” His head tilted back to gaze up at the skyscraper that towered above the shop behind them. “So my father sent me here to… I don’t know. Punish me, I guess. Cut me off, told me I couldn’t come back until…” he trailed off. “…you know, I was lucky my Uncle even agreed to let me stay here. If he hadn’t… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Katara couldn’t imagine it— what sort of father would abandon his kid like that?

Sure, she felt abandoned by her own dad half the time, but… at least when he left, he did it knowing her and Sokka were safe and cared for. And at least she didn’t doubt that he loved her, as angry as she was at him for his choices.

She cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried—“

“No, it’s okay.” Lee’s voice had a rasp to it, the sound of someone trying to hold emotion at bay. “It… it was probably time I told someone about it. I haven’t exactly made a ton of friends here.”

Katara spoke before she even realized she’d decided to; “You can come out with me and my friends sometime.”

Lee tilted his head to her, a puzzled expression on his features, “…Me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

And then a real smile played across his lips, “Are all your friends hot shot movie stars too?”

It was once more Katara’s turn to be surprised. “You— that— I’m not even close to a ‘hot shot movie star!’” She laughed and tugged on her braid nervously, suddenly feeling shy. “You know who I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Since the beginning?”

“…Yeah.” His voice was softer, more reserved, as if the question had stirred something in him. Guilt?

Katara pressed on, not wanting to ruin the new atmosphere they’d built for themselves. “So you’ve seen me in… what, shampoo commercials?”

Lee shook his head, “Nah, my fa— someone my mom used to be friends with, uh… helped fund that one movie; Glacier Soul?”

“You… you remember me from that?” She laughed again, both delighted and aghast, “It wasn’t even a big role, I wasn’t a lead or anything— and I wasn’t great in it—“

“No.” Lee‘s voice was firm, no room for disagreement. If he didn’t sound so earnest, Katara may have assumed he was just being nice. “You were perfect.”

Katara shifted, warmth spreading on her cheeks. The prickle on her neck, the tightness in her body, those both were present now too; but it wasn’t fight or flight this time, was it? Had it ever been? “Well I… I’m glad you liked me. I mean, me in it. It was my first dramatic film and… and I’m just… glad.”

They both fell silent, Katara downing the rest of her tea to keep from saying more dumb things.

“So…” Lee was hesitating again. “When… when are you and your friends next…?”

“Oh!” Katara reached for her bag, rummaging for a pen, “Here, one sec—“ she grabbed her napkin and jotted down her number. “Text me when I leave, I’ll let you know next time we have plans.”

Lee seemed completely out of his element as he stared at the napkin she’d shoved at him; as if he couldn’t believe it was actually there. Finally, he nodded, “Right, yeah, that sounds— yeah. Good. Great.”

“Yeah?” Katara asked teasingly.

There was another hint of a smile when he replied with, “Yeah.”

Her body was heavy again, so Katara started to gather her things. “Well, good to know you’re not so bad when you’re not extorting people or serving them poisoned tea.”

Lee sputtered, “I… I haven’t done either of those things!”

“Mm, that green tea you tried to give me looked pretty deadly.” He seemed troubled despite the tease, and Katara nudged him as she stood. “Tonight though? That jasmine tea was ridiculously good.”

Lee relaxed again, understanding the jests now and looking quite pleased with himself, “I practiced.”

“I can tell.” Katara yawned and stretched, her body complaining after being curled up for so long, “Well, Lee, I’m glad I got to know you a little better.”

He was running a hand through his dark locks again, looking as if he were going through some sort of inner turmoil despite the small smile on his lips, “Y-yeah, me too, listen, uh…” he took a breath. Then another. “I’m… I…” and then he deflated, “I’m glad too.”

Katara said goodnight, made him promise to text her as soon as she walked out the door, and as she strolled to the next building over, she realized she felt light. Bubbly. Happy.

So their first meeting had been rocky; she couldn’t blame the guy for having a bad day, especially since it sounded like he’d been through the wringer shortly before that.

Why should a bad first impression affect this one?

Katara’s phone buzzed with a text, and when she pulled it out she saw a little fire emoji.

And then she texted back something that normally she’d never in a million years say.

‘Is this your way of saying I’m hot?’

Sokka would laugh in the face of anyone who implied his uptight little sister had flirted.

Lee’s reply was immediate.

‘What?! No! What???? It’s just my favorite!’

‘…wait, don’t take that the wrong way, I mean, I’m not saying you aren’t’

‘Uh’

‘I mean’

‘Can you just ignore all of that? Please?’

‘…Please?’

Katara laughed. Normally she might over analyze his panicked denial, worry she overstepped, but… something felt different about Lee. He was so serious, serious in a way that made her loosen up.

Her brother often told her she was a stick in the mud. And maybe she was, maybe she was austere and boring and too much a stickler for rules… But Lee made her feel like she was fun, too.

‘Ignore what?’

‘I didn’t see anything :)’

‘….thank you.’

She hummed to herself as she savored the taste of jasmine still on her tongue.

Maybe Lee wasn’t so bad.

And maybe… maybe now she had more than one reason to look forward to her morning matcha.

#anon #ask #writing prompt #morgan murmurs #zutara #zutara fanfic #fanfic #one shot

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perseephoneee · 4 months

Note

(For Ficmas 2023) Isaac Lahey and cookie decorating

cookie decorating (isaac lahey x f!reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 12 of ficmas!

warnings: allusions to sex

a/n: its christmas eve! this one is short but i wanted to keep it sweet and to the point. thank you guys so much for joining me in this journey to write 12 fics in 24 days (honestly exhausting, but i'm happy I did it). reminder that my requests are open, and to join my taglist if you want to read more of my work in the future. i have a couple requested fics that i need to work on, but i'm hoping to start having a regular posting schedule for you guys in the new year. once again, ily and thank you guys for supporting me always <3

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Before your last school vice principal was killed by one of the many werewolf problems that arose in Beacon Hills, the high school didn’t have as many “school spirit” events. There were the typical ones, but truthfully, not a lot. But then, the high school needed a new vice principal, and suddenly, Beacon Hills High School was experiencing an influx of school-wide events. Some of them were incredibly stupid, annoying, and trivial, but occasionally there would be one that would excite all the students. This was one of those times.

“I am happy to announce that for the holiday season, we will be doing a series of competitions centered around winter,” Mr. Bean, the new vice principal, announced at a school assembly one morning. You almost skipped it but were caught by Coach Finstock in the hall before you could sneak out. Your boyfriend, Isaac, was asleep next to you. “They will be non-denominational, of course. But what is the prize, you ask? After careful consideration, it was decided that the team that gets the most wins out of the twelve contests will get automatic As for the winter break homework– that’s right, a free pass!”

That got the students awake, chatter filling the auditorium as students daydreamed about not having to do any work over the break. You also perked up. Even though you were a good student, you never got an actual vacation with how things went in your life, and your brain almost couldn’t process all the reading and napping you’d get done if you didn’t have any homework.

“Isaac,” you hissed, slapping your boyfriend in the arm. He groaned as you awoke him. “We are entering this.” He looked at you in confusion as you explained the competition to him. That seemed to wake him up.

“I’m not doing too hot in Chemistry right now, so that’d be great,” he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“You told me you were okay!”

“I lied,” he shrugged, and you slapped him in the arm again.

“I offered to help you with your homework.”

“I wanted to make out with you instead.” That made you roll your eyes, but you didn’t get the chance to chastise your boyfriend as you finished listening to the rules of the competition.

The following days went by as pretty much every student in the school participated. Everyone got points for the challenges, and the team with the most points got automatic As. There would be two runner-ups who got Bs. You questioned whether any of this was legal, but your lust for winning overtook the rational part of you. Your competitive nature shined as you and Isaac quickly rose to the top of the leaderboards. Between your book smarts and Isaac’s athletic prowess, you took the contests by storm. There was trivia, a sledding race, a snowman competition, and a relay race. Ethan and Aiden were The only team close to beating you two, which just spurred on Isaac more. Even Scott and Stiles, who had fallen behind since they spent more time arguing like a married couple than cooperating, were rooting for you and Isaac just to see Ethan and Aiden go down.

The final contest wasn’t anything crazy but required precision and focus. Cookie Decorating. Of course.

You hunkered down at your house, baking cookies and looking at YouTube tutorials for the best way to decorate cookies. You had some cookies look like ornaments, others like reindeer, and a couple as snowflakes. Unfortunately, Isaac had grown distracted about half an hour into your baking adventure. Which meant he had turned to distracting you.

“Can we take a break?” he sighed, sitting at your counter as he watched you add frosting to piping bags.

“We need to turn these in by 4 pm today, so we need to hurry,” you responded, tying off the plastic piping at the top and looking at your sketched designs before adding anything to your cookies. Isaac slid off the stool, standing beside you as he watched you draw careful shapes. You weren’t paying attention to him, so you missed the devilish smirk on his face as an idea came to him. He pushed your hair to one side, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your middle. You hummed, still focused on decorating, when he pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You became hyperaware of his lips on your skin as he licked a line from your artery to your jaw, hot, open-mouthed kisses following soon after. You bit your lip to stop a gasp from leaving your mouth. “Isaac,” you hissed in warning when he bit down, coaxing a sigh from your lips.

“Y/N,” he hummed, his hands dipping under your shirt and running up and down your sides. His hands were cold and made you shiver wherever he touched you.

“You’re being a nuisance,” you whispered, hand shaking as you kept trying to decorate.

“Take a break,” he smiled against your skin, continuing his ministrations. You tried to calm yourself, but after making another mistake in decorating, you growled in frustration and turned around in his arms.

“You’re obnoxious,” you muttered, back pressed against the counter as Isaac had you cornered. He just smiled, leaning down to kiss you as he had you caged against the counter. You let him kiss you, hands running up his arms, tangling in his hair. You let him take you to your bedroom, make love to you, and effectively distract you. And when he was done being needy, you went back to finish decorating the cookies, wearing just his shirt and underwear, even letting him steal one when he thought you weren’t looking.

You ended up winning the competition, much to the chagrin of Ethan and Aiden, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you spent winter break in peace with Isaac.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #daniel sharman #ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #my writing

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timidpumpkin · 1 year

Text

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 2: Nyctophobia

Nyctophobia//meaning//fear of the dark

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky want you to adjust to your new life as easily as possible. Unfortunately, you don't quite seem to understand that yet.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, Female reader, Kidnapping, Implied drugging, Manipulation, Reader cries, Some violence against reader, Slapping, Being tied up, Implied super insanely tall Steve and Bucky.

Warnings for future parts: Panic attack, Slight dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome. (Will add more as needed)

Let me know if I missed any!!

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Let me know what you guys think! hehe:)) I can't wait to post the next part! Also, minors DO NOT interact, and if you're above 18, please put your age in your bio, or I seriously will block you (not joking).

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI or I WILL block you.

Heavy.

You feel heavy. Every part of you does. Your eyelids in particular seem to weigh a ton as you will them to open.

Are you sick?

Your eyes reveal the lights are dim in your room. Except–this isn’t your room. You’ve certainly never seen that light fixture before, and the bed you’re laying in feels much wider than the one you’ve slept in most of your life. You shift, attempting to gain a better perspective of your surroundings when you feel something around one of your wrists. Your cloudy brain starts processing that you might very well be in a dangerous situation. You use your free hand to fumble with the object binding you to the bed, but it’s useless, it’s no regular rope. Frankly, the material isn’t anything you recognize and there’s no way to get it off.

You manage to get yourself into a somewhat seated position when you notice your clothes. You’re wearing a long-sleeved sleep gown–something you don’t own. Underneath it, you feel…crinkles, and padding where your underwear should be.

Then you hear it–footsteps. You make a vain attempt to free your arm again, but it only serves to dizzy you, blurring the world around you as you register two figures making their way through the door.

“Oh, she’s awake.” A voice speaks, delight in their tone.

You hear a gruffer voice mutter something you can’t quite make out.

Your vision begins to clear somewhat as one of the figures kneels beside the bed.

“Hey sweet girl,” the first voice softly greets you. “I’m so sorry we weren’t here when you woke up.” his hands reach for you. Naturally, you back away, distancing yourself from him, but the binding on your wrist only lets you get so far.

“Wha-what’s going on?” your words come out slightly slurred through your weak and weary voice.

“I know, you must be so confused,” he sits on the bed then, reaching for you again. “come here, and we’ll explain everything, okay?” His tone is almost patronizing, as if he’s speaking to a child.

“N-no-I–” A powerful arm yanks you forward. It’s the other man. He maneuvers your body in front of theirs, letting the first man encapsulate your arms. You try to twist away from him, but it’s useless as his hold on you feels even stronger than the material that binds you to the bed frame.

“Be gentle Bucky, we just got her.” he says lightly rubbing the roughed-up area on your arm.

Adrenaline must be on your side, sobering you up as you register the…stranger.

“S-steve?” you say, disbelief in your tone.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “I knew you’d remember me, but you don’t have to call me that. It’s just Dada from now on okay? And this is daddy.” he nods to the dark-haired man beside him–Bucky, who doesn’t look all that friendly, not that you would necessarily ascribe that word to Steve right now though. Bucky has longer hair, essentially shoulder length with a few pieces that frame his deep-set eyes. He, like Steve, has a beard, though it’s more on the scruffy side.

Steve’s words confuse you. You try tearing yourself away from them, but again, it’s to no avail as his grip only tightens around you. It doesn’t necessarily hurt, but its firmness indicates to you how easily he could hurt you.

“None of that now sweetheart,” Bucky tilts his head at you, reaching to gently caress your face before trailing his fingers down your jaw, and gripping your chin. “Dada’s going to explain everything. You just need to listen for him,” he angles your face towards Steve. “You can do that…can’t you doll?” you feel his question is more of a demand. You don’t answer as you continue staring at Bucky with petrified eyes. They then share a look, one you can’t discern the meaning of.

“Hey,” Steve tries averting your attention back to him and Bucky’s grip releases you. “There’s no need to be scared, we’re not going to hurt you,” his eyes are almost…pleading, imploring you to believe what he’s telling you. You shift your wrist, your uncomfortable position making it hurt. “would you like me to take that off?” he offers. You nod. “Okay, but when I do, I don’t want you trying to run off…understand?” You nod again, just wanting to be free of it. When Steve still hasn’t moved though, Bucky speaks.

“He asked you a question, doll. Answer it.”

“Uh-yes…” they still only look at you, unmoving. So you try adding “please.” you say softly.

“Oh, so polite for us. I told you she’d have good manners with us,” Steve says, beginning to fiddle with the ‘rope’ tying you to the bed. You turn to watch him work when you feel Bucky’s hand on your jaw again, turning you to face him this time. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you while Steve works mysteriously on your wrist. It only takes a moment, and when Steve bends down to place the rope on the ground, illogical instinct takes over.

You move as fast as you can, somehow, freeing yourself from Bucky as you find both your feet planted on the floor opposite the bed. You make for the door, but before you can even register what happened, Bucky has you. Arms pinned behind your back and chest pressed against him as your feet dangle off the ground.

“Looks like she’ll need to learn how to listen though.”

“Let me,” you thrash yourself as much as you can, “go!” desperate to get away from whatever this is.

Steve is now beside both of you. “Stop fighting us angel,” he appeals, helping bucky secure your kicking legs. “we’ll tell you everything you need to know if you just stop resisting. And besides…it’s really no use. You’re only going to hurt yourself if you keep this up.”

You let out another grunt as you try to move, once again, to no avail. Your tired body gives out, slumping in their hold.

“There’s a girl.” Bucky praises. You’re busy catching your breath when Steve suggests moving to the living room.

Bucky, for a moment, considers letting you down to walk, but ultimately decides against it as he scoops his arm under your knees and carries you to the living room. You try absorbing as much information as you can.

The living room is just outside the space you were just in. Gray and navy accent the furniture and decor. There’s a fireplace across from the couch Bucky sits down on, with you laid across his lap. You can see a kitchen adjacent to the living area. Windows give you a glimpse of trees upon trees. It’s…homey. However, your quick scan reveals no door to the outside world that you can see.

Instinctually, you try to move off of Buck’s lap, not liking the vulnerable position, but he holds you in place as Steve settles on the chaise part of the couch, beside you both.

“Pretty in here, isn’t it?” Steve asks. You don’t respond. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a full tour in a bit.” he smiles, patting your thigh lightly, the way a person would do with a close friend or something. Except, you’re not his friend. You barely know him, you’ve only met Steve once, and you’ve certainly never met Bucky. Bucky–he looks familiar, but you can’t place his face immediately. Much like when you first met Steve, you’re pretty sure you’ve only seen his face on the news.

“Princess?” Steve says taking a hold of your hands that are resting at your navel. He gently holds your hands, and you resist the urge to pull away. You’d like to think that’s because you’re a quick learner, but really, you know you’re in no condition to put up another fight. Hell–even if you were, you’re quickly realizing how pointless that would be.

“Remember what I said? We’re not going to hurt you, but you can’t be acting out like that, okay? Are you ready to listen now?” You nod your head, still frightened, but…undeniably curious as to what he’ll say. “Use your words sweetheart.” Steve encourages gently.

“I-yes, okay.” Steve looks at you as if he’s expecting you to say something more, but decides to continue anyway.

He begins by telling you how captivated he was by you the first night you met, but how he also…worried about you. He reiterated the same words he told you that night, telling you how unsafe it was to be walking alone like that. But it wasn’t just that, he saw how pure and innocent you are. He and Bucky decided they needed to protect that innocence, and keep you safeguarded from the outside world.

“It’s dangerous out there doll, haven’t you seen the news before? All kinds of awful things out there.” Bucky chimes in.

“We saved you angel. We brought you here to take care of you. We know it’s something you can’t handle on your own, and that’s okay. There’s nothing you have to worry about anymore, except being our good little girl.” Steve beamed at you, but you felt like you were spinning. You could certainly hear the words coming out of their mouths, but you were also certain, you did not understand them–okay, maybe you do understand, but you can’t just give in to this…lunacy.

“Confused babydoll?” Bucky snaps you out of your thoughts. He’s been peering down at you the whole time, caressing the back of your head.

“Poor girl,” Steve says, pity in his voice, “I know this is all so new, but you’ll start to see in time.”

“We’re going to take real good care of you, doll. All you have to do is listen to what Dada and I tell you, and you’ll be safe, with us." Bucky adds.

You shake your head and start fighting Bucky’s grip again. “I’m not-I’m not doing anything! This is crazy! You’re-you’re insane!” it’s all you can think to say before you feel a sharp sting on your face. It shocks you and immediately brings tears to your eyes.

“I don’t like that tone, babygirl. Now I know you’re confused but that doesn’t mean you get to talk back to daddy like that. Do you understand me?” Bucky grips your face in his large hand. “Look at me when I’m talking to you doll.” His harsh words only make you cry more. Steve leans in then, softly wiping the tears from your face.

“Hey hey,” he speaks softly. “it’s okay, she’s just learning, you’re just learning aren’t you babygirl?” you hesitantly nod in agreement, it seeming the safest option at the moment. “Why don’t I get you some juice?” he offers, “would you like some juice?”

You nod again, sniffling. Bucky’s grip on your face tightens “Words, doll.” he warns.

“Y-yes, I’d like some juice…p-please” you sound so…meek when you speak.

“Good girl.” Steve smiles at you. When he returns, he hands Bucky a…bottle. You can’t tell its exact contents but you can tell by the condensation blanketing the outside of it that it’s cold. It’s then you realize just how thirsty you really are. Your mouth would water if it could.

You try sitting up again so you can drink. You’re confused when Bucky holds you in place and starts bringing the bottle to your mouth. You try turning your head to the side but he holds you in place, bottle tip pressing against your shut lips. There’s no way you’re letting him force you to drink.

“Open,” he demands.

“MMM-MM” you try saying no through your closed lips. Bucky has Steve help hold you still while he tries forcing it into your mouth again.

“Don’t make me open that pretty mouth for your doll,” Bucky says, “‘cause I will.” he promises, and you don’t miss the sinister grin on his face. Still, your mouth remains shut tight as you struggle against them. It’s then you feel an intense pinching on your thigh–it hurts, it really hurts.

You instinctually let out an “ow!” as Bucky swiftly uses that moment to slip the bottle into your mouth, holding it there firmly.

“Drink.” He orders.

“Come on babygirl, you need the nutrients,” Steve’s soothing voice encourages you. “just drink a little for us, okay? It’ll make you feel so much better.” he tries to persuade you, but you don’t want to. For all you know, it could be tainted–drugged even. You don’t want to feel as bad as you did when you woke up again. They don’t budge though, and after you realize they’re not going to back off, you give in, sucking on the tip.

It’s apple juice,

good apple juice.

You try analyzing for any foreign substance–as if you’d be able to tell–but it tastes perfectly normal. No, delicious actually. Your thirst takes over as you take more than a few sips. They both hold you in place while you empty the bottle for its contents, praising you as you go.

“Very good…good girl,” Steve murmurs the rest of his praises to you, now gently petting your head.

“See now, that wasn’t so hard was it babygirl?” Bucky’s face shows no discernible emotion. He sounds condescending, but for a moment–maybe even less than that–you swear you see a glint of…admiration in his eyes.

“Would you like some more? Maybe some water?” Steve offers. The juice really did help you feel better with your body lacking hydration and calories. So, reluctantly, you nod your head.

You feel another sharp pinch at your thigh then.

“Words sweetheart. You need to learn to use ‘em” Bucky explains.

“y-yes, water, please.”

“Yes please…what?” Steve prods. Was there some other magic word you weren’t aware of? “You need to start using our names babygirl”

Oh.

“Yes, please…Steve,” you say only to feel yet another pinch to your thigh causing you to yelp. “Ah! Stop that!” It hurt. It hurt the first two times, but now you’re certain they’ll be a bruise there from it being inflicted so many times.

“It’s okay, Buck.” Steve says.

“She needs to learn.” he replies sternly, eyes still trained on you.

“I know,” Steve looks towards you, “but you’re still just confused, aren’t you little girl? You just need your daddies to teach how to be good, huh? That’s okay, we’ll go over more of the rules later, but for now, you need to know to call me ‘Dada’, and Bucky ‘Daddy’ okay?...Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

Oh.

“Princess?” he urges after a moment of silence.

“Yes, p-please…Dada.” you mumble the last word begrudgingly, but also because you feel slightly embarrassed at the word. You shouldn’t be, they are making you say it after all, but you can’t help the funny feeling it gives you. It makes you feel so small. You try to ignore the flushed feeling that fills your cheeks too.

“Good, very good princess.” he smiles at you before leaving and returning with a different bottle, one filled with water this time. “Now just sit here, drink your water, and keep being a good girl for daddy while I go make you some food. I know my little girl needs to eat.” he leaves you with a pat to your head.

Bucky is holding the water-filled sippy cup, with his other arm supporting your neck. “You wanna sit up?” he asks. And you do. Anything to get out of this position and into a more comfortable one. One where maybe you can’t be as easily subdued…maybe…probably not. You nod and he glares at you, eyes narrowing in warning before you quickly answer, not wanting to be pinched again.

“Uh-uhm, y-yes…D-daddy,” his eyes relax, his face returning to its normal scowl, and he gently helps lift you up. His hands never leave your body, attached to you in some way as he sets you beside him, your back now against the soft cushion of the couch. You gingerly take the cup from his hand when it’s offered to you.

He watches you the whole time. You don’t look at him as you try keeping yourself busy with drinking and looking at your surroundings. You can see Steve to the left in the kitchen. You wonder what he’s making.

Several minutes go by when you feel it. You squirm a little, just to be sure, and you are. You have to pee. You also become acutely aware that your ‘underwear’ feels crinkly, and…puffy. You can’t see, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you have on a diaper. You think you noticed it earlier but so much has gone on since then, that you haven’t had time to think about it, or that fact that it means they put it on you. They put your gown on too. You don’t like the implication of any of it.

You bite your lip, not sure how to ask for what you need, feeling the urge grow.

“You need something sweetheart?” Bucky asks, tilting his head down to you.

“Uhm…”

He speaks lower this time, almost whispering. “You need to go potty?” you nod your head sheepishly, too embarrassed to speak. He seems to think for a moment. Eventually, you look up to him. “You can go right here if you want to babygirl,” he says, more softly than you’ve heard him speak thus far. “Or, I can show you the bathroom if you want to be a big girl.” The implication of what he just said only adds to your embarrassment ten-fold. You want to hide. But you definitely need to use a real bathroom, so you speak up.

“Yes-I mean, yes I would like to use the bathroom…please…daddy” you hate how you can’t even look him in the eye.

But Bucky loves it. He adores how timid you are right now. So embarrassed. He can’t help but relish in seeing your soft and leery face turned downward as you attempt to hide from his gaze. How difficult it is just for you to speak to them, stuttering over every word. She really is perfect.

He stands and offers his hand to you. You take it, and he starts guiding you back to the room you were in before. You freeze as you near the door. He looks back to you, cocking his head,

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You don’t know how to answer him. You just know you feel terrified. You just know you don’t want to go back to the room where this all began. The room where all the lights were dim. The room where you woke up feeling awful. The room where you were tied to the bed. The room where-

“You scared of the dark, doll?” he asks, you swear you see a tiny smirk on his face. He reaches in with his hand and the room in front of you brightens up. “Better?” he looks back at you. You nod slightly, still scared. “come on then.” he lightly tugs at your hand and you cautiously follow.

Now that the lights are on you can make out that this must be their bedroom. The bed sheet covering the large bed is slightly ruffed from where you laid. There are personal objects scattered across the dresser and side tables. Decor of art and sorts covering the walls. In this light, it’s just as…welcoming as the rest of the house.

He leads you to another door, and puts his hand on the doorknob before you can, narrowing his eyes at you.

“I won’t go in there with you, but if I hear you try anything, don’t think I won't come in there,” he steps closer to you, towering over you, much like steve. “and I will know if you do.” He lowers his hand and steps back just enough so you have to squeeze by him to get through the door. You don’t think he’s as tall as Steve, but he’s close and still looms over you nonetheless.

The bathroom is sizable, to say the least. It has two sinks, a large whirlpool tub, and a shower on the opposite side of it.

Once you’re done, you struggle to pull up your…pull-up. You breathe a sigh of relief when you inspect it, and it’s clean. At least you didn’t wet yourself while you were out. And how long were you out? You know you got home late, and they must have…taken you in the night. You noticed a clock on the wall earlier showed it was now around 4 pm. You must have slept for a long time.

You debate on taking the pull-up off completely–throwing it in the trash, but as you have no replacement underwear, you figure this is better than going without.

Bucky calls from outside the door, asking if you’re almost done. You quickly wash your hands, finding yourself having to stand on the tips of your toes just to reach the soap.

When you emerge, Bucky looks you up and down as if he’s assessing you for something–what–you’re not sure.

Once you’re back, the food is ready as they guide you to the dinner table near the kitchen. Bucky’s hand hasn’t left yours as he guides you into the seat, only releasing you to take his own. In front of you is a bowl of mac and cheese–one of your favorite dishes–and honestly, it looks delicious.

Your stomach growls in agreement as you start to dig in. You're only a few bites in when you notice, through the corner of your eye, a door. It’s to your right.

“Is it good sweetheart?” Steve asks. You nod with your mouth full, hoping the food will excuse you from having to answer them properly. They’re not eating with you, but they are seated across from you at the round table. Not far–but it’s certainly the furthest both of them have been from you since your arrival, and the longest you’ve gone without them holding you in some way.

You don’t know what overtakes you. Probably your flight instinct telling you this is the only chance you’ll get. You hastily shove the bowl across the table to bucky–since he’s the closest to the door–hoping it’ll give you enough time to distract him as you bolt towards your exit. Somehow, you make it. This is it, you think. But-

Of course.

It’s locked. It won’t budge as you thrash the handle like a manic until you feel hands tearing you from it, whipping you around.

“I guess you really don’t know how to listen.” Bucky stares down at you, eyes darker than you’ve seen them before. Steve is close behind with any kind of softness gone from his face as well. They both look livid. “Didn’t we just tell you not to run away from us?” his voice gets louder. He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder in one swift motion. “You know, I really didn’t want to have to punish you on your first day here.” he begins carrying you somewhere as you thrash against him.

“Then don’t! Let me go! Put me down!” you beat your arms against his solid back.

“I’m afraid you won’t learn your lesson unless we do” you hear Steve say. Your swaying view tells you you're heading up the stairs. You continue the assault on Bucky’s back until you're in a different room where he puts you in a chair that’s facing the corner of the room. You have no time to move as Steve is quickly pinning down your legs, while bucky forces your arms backward. They work together tying you to the chair with the metal rope used on your wrist earlier.

“Just had to be a bad girl.” Steve mumbles as he finishes his work. He looks up to you, and you see… disappointment in his eyes. “we told you not to fight us, princess, you brought this on yourself,” he says standing up.

You plead with them, begging them to let you go with heavy tears beginning to fall, but it seems to fall on deaf ears. When bucky’s done with your arms, he stands up, truly towering over you now.

“Until you’ve learned your lesson,” he grabs your face pointing it directly at the blank wall. “you’ll stare at this corner,” you sob harder, not even realizing you had started crying. Bucky leans down, his mouth right next to your ear. “cry all you want, doll. It won’t matter.” you respond with more fruitless pleas. “We’ll come get you when we’ve decided you’ve had enough.”

and they leave you.

Silence takes over the room and that’s when the tears really begin. You're screaming into the air, begging to be let go. You yell until your vocal cords physically hurt, and then you're just sobbing again. Quiet tears tickle your face as you have no way to wipe them.

Your head hurts from crying. You feel awful. Your body hurts from the position you're forced in. You’ve been crying this whole time…can’t they hear you?

You don’t understand why you’re here. Less than 24 hours ago, you were living a normal life, and now you're trapped, truly imprisoned in this house with two men you barely know. They say they want to take care of you. If that's true then why did they tie you up and leave you here alone?

Shouldn't they know how much that scares you? You’ve been in here for hours. So long the sun has disappeared completely, leaving no light in the room. Doesn’t Bucky know how scared of the dark you are? Didn't Steve say how dangerous it was for you to be left alone?

Your heart hurts, why aren’t they coming to take care of you like they said they would? Is it really because you were that bad…so bad…

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