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#twitch is becoming harder to watch due to all the ADS
causeofcalamity · 3 years
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fuck the avenger’s 5 gum twitch commercial and also the toasted cheddar chalupa one
these ads are actively making me abhor what theyre advertising
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xpeachesncream · 3 years
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3am with you | drabble (jjk)
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↳ drabbles masterlist
yours (ft. the bands!couple) | drabble three: it’s 3am in europe and jungkook just wants to love you down.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: cussing/mature language, implied sexual content, unprotected soft sex, oral (f. receiving), some (soft) choking, hair gripping, multiple orgasms, fingering, sprinkle of spit play and dirty talk, fluff, playful ass smacking, aftercare, cuddles
tags: @thebeebi​ @miinoongi​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​ @ayujaded​ @wearenot7withu​ @jimidol​ @jikookiekosmos​
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"Baby." Jungkook grips onto your waist as he whispers into your ear, hands beginning to caress your sides gently. "Baaaaby." He repeats, more of a whine this time. To be honest, he woke up hard as fuck again and wanted more of you badly. As if you two just didn't go at it right before bed.
"Hm?" You stirred in your sleep, naked body pressed against your man's, his throbbing, hard cock pushed against your ass.
"I'm hoooorny." His tongue roams around the surface of your skin right below the ear, sending tingles down your spine.
"I can tell." You chuckle as you feel the wetness pooling in between your legs just from how needy he was being. "What time is it?"
"3." He softly chuckles. "Can I have you?" He cutely asks as he nuzzles his nose against your neck, pulling your ass against him so he can jut his hips into you. He presses light kisses against the nape of your neck before moving down to your shoulder blades. His soft, warm hands send tingles down your spine, adding to how worked up you're getting from this moment alone.
"You can always have me."
"Yeah?" He gently turns you onto your back, body slightly hovering over yours. "Always want my pretty girl so bad." He whispers before planting a passionate kiss against your lips, large hand slowly roaming up your side. Jungkook continues to deepen the kiss, sounds of wet kisses and sucking against your tongue fills the room, along with Europe's hustle and bustle. It was a perfect night for the current season, Jungkook begging to leave the windows wide open with the see-through curtains slightly drawn. The street lights illuminated corners of the room, shadows of cars passing by occasionally blocking it off. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispers in between kisses. "Wanna show you how much I love you." His hand trails down your neck, down your chest, making its way down to your folds to give your pussy a good rub.
"You're always good at showing it, Kook."
"Then I'll keep doing it." He smiles into the last kiss before pulling away to lock eyes with you as he slips a digit in and bites onto his bottom lip. "So wet for me already." You whimper, back slightly arching as he wastes no time inserting another finger inside, steadying his pace.
"Kook, fuck." You hiss. You almost want to whine when he removes his fingers from inside, only to realize he's making his way down in between your thighs underneath the sheets. Your hands grab at his hair as he lowers his lips onto your clit, soft lips pressing light kisses against it before he begins to tongue your folds down. "Mmmmyeah—" You moan, gripping his hair tighter as you slowly work your hips against his mouth. He sucks harder onto your pulsating nub, nodding into it as you continue to grind against his mouth. You feel him spit against your pussy, his tongue spreading his spit all over you. The way he works his mouth, his tongue— god, it's heaven sent. So heaven sent that the more you continue to fuck his mouth, the quicker the pleasure pools in the pit of your stomach.
"Baby, baby, fuck! Yeeeees." Your moan gets louder, completely disregarding the fact that Hobi is on the other side of your wall.
You two were gonna hear from him in the next couple of hours, no doubt.
"Cum, baby. Let me taste it." He moans against your pussy, the vibrations hitting your spot. He begins to rub at your clit viciously while his tongue is going to work on your sweet, wet folds. You roll once more against him, feeling yourself coming undone in his grip, Jungkook groaning against your pussy. He doesn't stop sucking your sensitive nub until he feels your body settle. "Fuck, so good." He says coming out from under the sheets, sweat lining his hairline as he dips down to press a kiss on your lips.
"Kook, please. Want more. Need you inside of me." He nods.
"You're perfect, sweetheart. Always telling me what you want. God you drive me crazy." He hovers over you, hand by your head while the other gripped his shaft to rub his tip up and down your folds. He hisses, teasing you a bit by gently inserting himself into you, only to come back out and run his head in between your lips once more.
"Kookie, stop." You whine. "Just fuck me." He laughs.
"Needy baby." He watches you as your eyes roll to the back of your head, his cock filling you up in the best way possible. The two of you just had some good, rough sex hours ago, and all Jungkook wants to do is love you. Love you down good.
Love you down softly.
Love you down delicately.
Love you down like the world was going to end tomorrow.
He grips onto your pillow as he bites onto his bottom lip, rolling his hips into you slowly, deeply. Your lips graze against his, mouth agape while you let out soft whines and moans. Your hands roam up his sides and back, nails digging deep into his shoulders when he buries his head against the crook of your neck. His moans are loud, but still somewhat muffled against your neck. He licks a stripe on the surface as he works his hips, picking up his pace while biting your earlobe and sucking on the skin below it.
"Shit, your pussy baby." He moans. "Ohhhhhgod— best fucking pussy. Shit was made for me."
"Kook, please— Like that." You whine against his ear, sending goosebumps to ripple throughout his entire body.
"Nnngh— damn, gonna fill you up just like this sweetheart. You want that?" You nod. "Let me hear you."
"Y-yes, babe! Yeeeees." You moan, fingers tangled in his luscious black hair.
"God, I love you so much." He kisses your lips, then nose, then forehead. "I love you, I love you." He repeatedly moans, shutting his eyes due to the pleasure building.
"I love you, too." You whimper. "Close, Kook. I'm so close. Gonna cum again."
"That's it, baby. Wanna feel you first. Cum all over me." He's holding on as much as he can, especially when he feels your walls tighten around him. "Yeah, like that. Let go for me, sweetheart." He picks up his pace, thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, not too fast, not too slow.
Just right.
He raises his body, hands around your neck, giving it just the right pressure as he fucks into you.
"Fuuuuuuckkkkgh!" You cry loudly. It takes a couple of more thrusts before you're hurdling over the edge, Jungkook's grip tightening ever so slightly around your neck while he starts to pound into you to chase his high. The aftershocks of your orgasm ripples through you, body twitching in response.
"Oh shit, oh shit. I'm coming, baby—I'm—" He moans loudly, as he grips your neck tightly, causing you to bite your bottom lip as you watch your man become undone right on top of you. He releases his hold on your neck, head tilted back as he tries to regulate his breathing, sweat beads dripping down his chiseled abs. "Ohhh fuck." He breathes, smiling down at you when he finally opens his eyes.
"Mmmm, so hot." You giggle as he removes himself from within you and steps out of the bed ass naked to grab a wet washcloth to wipe you down. He pulls the sheets from your body, pressing light kisses against your knees as he wipes you down. Once he finishes, he stands to wipe himself while you watch. You give his ass a good smack when he turns to head back into the bathroom, making him mock your yelp when he smacks yours from time to time. "You're annoying." You laugh when he hops back into bed with the biggest grin on his face.
"That's too bad princess, you're stuck with it." He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you onto his chest, arms wrapped around your body tightly while he kisses the top of your head.
"Look how pretty it is outside." You yawn.
"I know. Feels nice to be experiencing it with you."
"It does." You nuzzle your nose against his neck. "But, to be honest, I can't wait to just be home with you and Kai."
"Same. I miss the kid."
"I do too. We'll bother him later."
"Sounds good." He chuckles. "For now, I'll take this in though. Pretty view, pretty lady." He kisses you once more. "3am shenanigans."
"Really though." You sleepily chuckle.
"Wouldn't want it with anyone else."
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Dog Tags
Billy Russo x Female!Reader
Request by @nebulastarr​ : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way
A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations.    The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week.  The song: Isak Danielson - Power
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All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.
“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”
You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.
Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:
“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.
Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.
“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”
You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.
“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”
You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.
“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”
From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.
“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.
You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.
It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.
“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”
Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.
A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.
You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.
“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”
Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…
Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.
Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.
“…you just quit?!”
She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.
“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”
The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.
“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”
When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.  
“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”
“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”
“…I’m here to see William Russo”. 

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.
Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.
You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.
“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”
The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.
“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.
As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.
You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.
And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.
You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.
In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.
See the beast for yourself, so to speak.
The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.
All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.
Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.
“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.
You briefly wondered if he knew that.
Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).
“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.
When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.
“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”
“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.
His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.
A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.
“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.
“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.
He nodded again.
And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.
Now that was the man you could potentially work with.
Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.
You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.
William and you disagreed.
When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place.

He only crossed the line once. 


You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.
The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.
You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.
You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.
“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”
“Can go fuck himself”.
Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.
You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.
“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”
You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.
Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!
“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.
This sounded so much better in your head.  
“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.
…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.  
There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?
“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.
You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.
“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”
Bark. Sit. Roll over.
“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”
Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.
You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.
If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.
You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.
You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.
As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.
You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.
There was nothing you had left to say to each other.
…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.
It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.
You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.
He had no idea.
You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.
The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.    
You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday. 

Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.
The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.
Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.
By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.
You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was. 

You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.
“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”
It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.
“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.
A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.
“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.
You chuckled silently at his reaction.
“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”
Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.
“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.
“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.
You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again. 

Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.
“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.
With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.
You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.
Just for the hell of it.
“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.
You gave him a mischievous smile.
“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.
That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.
Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.
You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.
When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.
You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).
“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”
You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction. 

Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.
You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along. 

“We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.
You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.
You had a great time at dinner.
(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).  
You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.
And he was incredible.
After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.
(You must have imagined it.)
The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.
A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.
“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”
You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on. 

Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.
“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”
When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.
“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.
He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.
Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.
“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.  
“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.
As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.
The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.
It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.
Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.
The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…
(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).
…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…
(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)  
…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…
(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).
…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.
By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.
He would, wouldn’t he?
It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.  
The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.
“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”
Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.
You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.
What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?  
Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.
A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.
“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.
No.
Nothing is okay, Billy.
I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.
I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…
So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.
“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.
“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.
Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer. 

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.
You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.
If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.
Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.
You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.
Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence. 


Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.
Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.
You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.
Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?
You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)
Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.  
Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.
You: The flattery will….
“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.
“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:
“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”
“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.
Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?
“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”
You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.
Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…
“We don’t really do alien invasions”.
Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!
His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.
“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.
Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.
“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.
You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.
“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”
Say something.
Fucking hell.
Say something!…
“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”

 Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.
“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.
That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.
“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.
"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”
After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.
You: The flattery will….
...get you nowhere.
You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.
Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.
After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.
Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.
In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.
…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.
You weren’t ready to leave Billy. 
You just couldn’t. 
You couldn’t leave him. 

There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.
And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.
And that was exactly why you had to do it.
You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.
You had to tell him.
As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.
Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.
“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”
He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.
You couldn’t breathe.
In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.
He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.
“Billy, I have to tell you something.”
Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.
Blood roared in your ears.
“What’s wrong?”
Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.
You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him. 

Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.
He had no idea what it was though.
“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.


That chest…


…was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.
You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.

Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…
“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.
“Billy, listen, I…”
You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.
The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.
He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.
In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.
“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”
I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.
“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock,  he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.
You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.
“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."
You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.
Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it? 

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.
“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”
The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.
“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.
Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.
(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)
As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion. 

He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.
Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.
“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.
If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.
God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.
With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…
Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…
…Your eyes met his.
And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.
Would not have taken his eyes off you.
“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”
Something in your chest exploded silently.
“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.
Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.
“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.
“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.
And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.
The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.
Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.
The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.
The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.
“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”
Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”
Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.
When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.
Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.
You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.
How much more pathetic could you get?  
When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.
His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?
Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.
When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.
“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”
It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.
Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.
“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.
Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.
“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.
You sighed.
“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”

You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.
“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”


Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time
“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”
Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.

“…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”
Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him. 


A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.
Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.
“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”
“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”
You nodded.
When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.  
It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.
You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.
Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.
After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.
As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.
The package wasn’t even stamped.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.
Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.
Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.
With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.
Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.
Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.
“You took my heart with you”.
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midday0nightmares · 3 years
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22 - keep it a secret (m).
previous chapter a reminder.
m.list.
warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.
author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.
After two days, Jeno finally comes out of his room. you stop buffering your nails as you watch his door slowly opens, not knowing what to expect, your eyes follows him as he stumbles his way to the couch, his face buffed from too much sleep, you scan his appearance for any signs, maybe bruises or cuts but against all your expectations he looks normal, unaffected.
His eyes squinting to adjust to the lights, his gruff voice mumbles a greeting to you, he plops next to you disturbing your peaceful quietness.
 “hey there stranger” you greet him back, he only smiles as he stares at the celling.
Nothing is said after that, tranquility fills the air, your attention is back to your nails as you hum a tone, he on the other hand, has closed his eyes to take a nap, as if he wasn’t sleeping a minute a go, his head is thrown to rest on the couch head rest, his eyes are closed, he looks clam and relaxed, with his breathtaking strong jaw and plumb lips, and those long eyelashes.. not fair.
When you were satisfied with your nails, you got up and walk past him to get your nail polish, but a set of hands grab your hips and pulls you back, you loss your balance, you stumble and fall in his lap. you were wrong about him napping, he is wide awake. 
 His strong grip shifts your hips until they were seating directly on top of his crotch, the intimate contact sparking your lust, his breathing hitches in your ear followed by a deep hum as he rolls his hips up and you push your hips down to meet his. your heart thumbs in your chest as it works double time, your body heat rises as you unravel in his arms, you feel him twitching beneath you as he’s growing harder beneath the you.
Both of your hips find a filthy rhythm to follow, your breathing heavens as you let your lust guid you, your eyes closing in bliss as all of your senes focusing on him, if he wants you, who are you to deny him now?.
you don’t remember his hands sneaking under your clothes, but you don’t mind, you are on the brink of losing your mind when they kneel your swollen breasts, you are about to start begging when jaemin’s loud voice interrupts you. 
“hey hey! dick down she’s in time out” he points at jeno as he walks out of the door in a hurry, slamming the door behind him.
 In another circumstances you would have been daed due to embracement, but the frustrations you were feeling was too much to care, you roll your eyes at his childish games, who the hell does he thinks he is? Not allowing you access to yourself..
“Time out?” Jeno halting all movements to question you “what did you do you naughty girl?” He chuckles in amusement.
“nothing.. don’t mind him” you turn in his arms to kiss him, but he dodges your lips “I'm not touching you until you tell me” he removes his hand crossing them over his chest, he sits back and smirks at your annoyed and needy huff, you mirror his poster and cross your arms over your chest staring at him, but he retaliates with a harsh slap on your ass, catching you of guard, he demands an answer.
 you cant help but to gasp at the stinging pain his hand left, you answer him in defeat “he caught me touching myself” avoiding his eyes, he bursts laughing at your confession making your face turns red in humiliation, you hit his chest and push yourself off of him but he grabs your thighs and pull you back on him.
“Hmmm so he caught you playing with yourself and he’s punishing you” he contemplates and bites his lower lips, his eyes studying your mortified features, you can see the devil works a plan in his head.
“well, I'm not him” he flicks his eyebrow, his hands moves your hips to shift you to sit on his thigh, he leans closer to you, his nose traces the skin under your ear, inhaling you in a deep breath. “move” his whispers to you, his hands tightening their hold on your hips as his thigh muscles flexes under you providing a better friction, he helps you grinding over his thigh. 
you gasp at the unexpected feeling, its faint but its there. you start to rut his thigh establishing your own pace, your hands claw his shoulders for support. a moan erupts from you when a the fabrics rubs against your erect clit. his hands move to cup your ass adding you, your head’s thrown back in ecstasy, your mind swimming in pleasure, you didn’t register his lips that were busy sucking a hickey on your neck, your moves becomes more frantic as you become desperate for a release, you call his name begging for it as your legs falter making you lose your rhythm, he slaps your ass again ushering you to keep riding him, you bury your face into his neck and resume your movements, you enjoy the faint orgasm as it hits you, its so faint that it doesn’t last more than seconds, if any thing it’s mocking you. your mind still colluded with need, you pant as you try to recompose yourself again, you left your head and look at him, his hand cradle your face “you’er such a bad girl, jaemin will be disappointed in you”. his name clicks in your head as you have forgotten about him, your mind blanking leaving your mouth hanging open, you want to say something, anything but you’er unable.
Your thoughts started to race with images of his disappointed face, would he be mad at you? Of course he would, disgusted? Why wouldn’t he be?. All the worry bubbling inside of you mixing with the strong lustful hunger, producing a tearful mess, you stumble on your words not knowing where to begin to explain yourself, your quivering lips felt too pathetic to be witnessed, but he keeps quite as he’s watching you as you fall apart, you realize that he got you in the palm of his hand, playing you.
“Aww” he coos at you,“don’t worry we’ll keep it a secret, out secret” the pad of his thumb wipe a fallen tear. 
you shake your head “he’ll know”.
 the amused smile never left his face, he licks his lips “just tell him I forced you”,
his proposed solution sounds like a believable excuse to you, you agree to it nodding while sniffling, and before you could thank him he speaks again,
“now be a good girl for me and suck me of” he lefts you off of him, you oblige and get in between his legs and kneel in front of tent in his pants, both of your hands work on his sweatpants to free him, you wrap your hand around him and give him few bumps, he shivers in reaction to your touch, he hands your head bringing you closer. “you look so pretty when you cry” he mutters as you take him into your mouth, he hiss in pleasure and his hands fists your hair, he lets you suck him off but it’s not enough for him, he wants more and it shows in his rough actions. he pushes your head down, hitting the back of your throat making you chock around him, and new wave of tears breaks out of your eyes.. 
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mxpseudonym · 3 years
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Indulgent
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Pairing: Michael x Fem!Reader
Summary: Michael is your father’s easy to tease business parter and you are one lucky bitch. In which Michael Gray is an ass man and a thigh man who gets lost in the wap.  
Length: 2153 words (allegedly)
Warnings: Spicy, Smut, Oral Sex, Michael is a little punk as usual 
A/N: Michael won the spicy scenario contest! This was v fun to write and honestly, we love a cocky yet generous lover on this blog. Shout out to all my thick thigh thirsty bishes. 
--
"Are those new?" Michael asked, only shifting his eyes from the documents he was signing for a moment. You lifted your leg, showing off your new french stockings to your father's business partner. Bringing Shelby Company Ltd documents to be signed by Michael Gray himself was the only errand of your father's that you volunteered to help with. The ever serious, young businessman was easy on the eyes and easy to rile up- your two favorite things. 
"They are, Mr. Gray. I'm surprised you noticed. I didn't think country boys cared about such things, even when they become handsome company men." 
You couldn't help it. Calling Michael a "country boy" was your favorite jab as it was the one where he gave you an annoyed glare, much like he was now. He ignored you, however, and returned your documents to their folder. 
"Of course, I noticed. And did you buy them yourself?" 
"I did. I buy all of my lingerie." 
You smiled cheekily as you stood. You headed towards the door, documents in hand, when Michael stopped you by gripping your wrist. You turned and felt your back hit the wall next to the door when he took a step closer. 
"Are you wearing it now?" 
Though you'd been hoping for this moment, you still felt the heat warm your cheeks at such a question. Micheal's hand reached up, his knuckles brushing against your stomach and dragging the fabric against your skin. "Is there more under this?" 
"Yes," you finally answered softly. 
"Can I see it? Please?" 
As Michael scrunched up the fabric of your beaded dress, you thought about how devious he sounded whenever he used polite words. You'd be better off if he'd just commanded it. Michael pulled your dress up until it was above you bralette, and you shifted under his gaze. He let out a soft grunt and reached up. 
Your breath hitched in anticipation, ready for his touch. Instead, you heard the click of the lock next to you. It wasn't necessary. You strategically came after hours, and the office was empty. If anything, it was a signal to you for what was about to come. 
"Hold this."
It took a moment before you realized he wanted you to stand here, back pressed against the wall of his office, holding your skirt by the hem, so a man you hadn't even had dinner with had his way with you. Who were you to disobey?
Michael kneeled before you, still eyeing you with a look of satisfaction and renewed hunger. He found your waist, caressing up to your ribs then down to grasp your fleshy backside covered in silky, lacey delicates. 
If his touch hadn't already set your face aflame, the eager moan that left you at the feeling of Michael's unforgiving groping would have done it. 
He swore under his breath before leaning in and pressing his lips against your stomach. His hands slid from your backside down to massage your thighs as he placed open-mouthed kisses against your tummy. Every so often, he'd bite down, quick to cover the teeth marks with a hot, soothing tongue before you could complain. 
You'd slept with a few people before, but this was a different kind of act. Were you always this sensitive? Or perhaps it was the way Michael seemed to be trying to consume. Your new stockings were a bit tight on the lining, and the garters pressed into the meat of your thigh as you were still getting used to adjusting the clasps. The combination made the pudge of your thighs spill over in a way you weren't sure about, but Michael couldn't get enough of. 
His nimble fingers played with the hems of your stockings, dipping under them almost absentmindedly before letting the material snap. His fingers slipped under the straps of your garter as well, teasing you further until he moved from your stomach, now littered in love bites, to lean down and bite at your thighs. You could feel the hot dampness of his tongue through your stockings for only a moment before he moved on. 
"Michael," you gasped loudly when he shamelessly pressed a kiss to your mound through the fabric. He paused. You thought you'd upset him, but after a moment, you felt a soft vibration against your hips. He was... laughing. 
Michael looked up at you through his eyelashes, and you almost gasped at how boyish he looked in that moment, the first time he'd looked straight into your eyes since moving down your body. 
"Y/n, you can take more, can't you? I even haven't done anything yet." 
There's a wicked smugness about his words that left you pouting. "Stop that." He gives the order seriously, and you take your bottom lip between your teeth instead. "Good girl."
Your fingers clenched around the hem that was now anchored at your bust. Everything Michael was saying went straight to your core. Though he was teasing, you hoped Michael was right about you being able to take more. 
His unspoken statement of "are you this wanton already" was apparent. He'd hardly started, and you were already trembling and so close to the edge. It wasn't your fault, you decided. He was the one who was as calculated as ever, even in the way he unclasped your garters to tug your shorts down your legs. 
"Can you multitask?" He asked, arrogant as ever. You nearly slammed your legs closed around his stupid face. However, he reached up and pulled down one of your hands, guiding it to hold up your leg by the back of your knee. Your back pressed harder against the wall as you adjusted to your new balancing act. 
Gingerly, Michael leaned forward and kissed your aching pussy, making your breath hitch. He leaned back and looked up at you, the glint of his lips apparent even before he slowly licked his lips. You said his name weakly, meaning to scold him for being vulgar. He pushed all of your words away, however.
"You're so wet."
He was leaning in again, and you could only tilt your head back in delight but also disbelief that this was even happening as Michael indulged. 
Indulgence was the perfect word for it. Michael wasn't one to rush, but he'd never waste time. His nosed skimmed the soft hair on your mound as he nudged your clit. Michael moaned when his tongue laved over the length of you. He was eating you well. He was eating you for fun. 
You hadn't thought about staying quiet due to your whereabouts, and you were glad for it seeing as you would have failed. Your cries filled the air of the office, making both of you even hotter. Michael dipped between your folds, prodding your entrance with a stiff tongue and making you a bit dizzy as the heat that had rushed to your face ran between your legs.
Michael, for a moment, took inventory of the situation without stopping his efforts. Maybe something was off if he had this good of a time, not that that would have hindered him. Your thighs were warm around him, you were positively trembling, and making you cum as a way to shut you up was becoming addictive. He can hardly keep up with your bucking hips as you cum from his tongue, circling your sensitive bud. As you panted, you could feel Michael's breath against your still twitching cunt as he spoke into it, almost to himself. 
"Mm, you taste sweet. Dripping too."
Though this wasn't planned, there was a natural flow to these things. Michael had fully expected to be inside of you by now. But you looked enticing in your lingerie, and your skin was so soft he couldn't help but kiss the inside of your thighs. And you were whining for more? He could feel himself bulging against his pants, and yet he couldn't stop himself from diving back in. He needed more. 
He fired you from the job of holding your leg up and threw it over his shoulder instead. Your hand clenched his hair, earning a deep groan from the man beneath you. Your hips rocked against his mouth, and he quickly matched your rhythm, never letting you escape from the pleasure you instinctively felt was too much. 
"Ah, Micheal, please," you panted. A sudden pinch to your backside made you jump and look down at him with wide eyes. 
"I said hold it," he said, face glossy with you. You realized only then that you'd dropped your dress, and it was disrupting his progress. 
"S-sorry, Mr. Gray" 
"If you can't hold it, bite it for Christ's sake," he said, dismissive as ever. And yet, the was a glint in his eye from you saying his name that way made you realize it was a new command. Michael looked you over, your eyes teary from your dress now stuffed in your mouth like a gag and a muffled whimper coming from you when he hungrily licked his smirking lips.
Seeing you like this was more than he could ask for. Your cries were muffled but no longer held back. He looped an arm under your leg, keeping your hips still with a firm hand. The least he could do was release anything holding him back as well. 
You came again from his mouth alone, and yet you felt a stiff finger slide into you before you were even sure your waves of pleasure had subsided. Michael's tongue flattened against your bud, and your head fell back, eyes clenched shut. Having something to clench around was more than satisfying.
"Can I have you like this all the time, love?" Michael asked, watching your face as he added a second finger with ease. Your whimper at the initial feeling turned into a loud moan when he curled them inside of you. "Maybe not, though. You can barely keep it together. You should see yourself right now, y/n."
"Mm!" Even if you weren't gagged, you still would have had trouble calling his name. Every thought left your head. Only the chase of more releases and the sound of Michael's voice remained. 
"Can't help that you're addicting, y/n. I did want to have you over the couch or something, but that'll have to wait. I want to tire you out just like this. You're a tight little thing too. Squeezing the life out of me, just from a couple of fingers." 
He chuckled, and the familiar embarrassment that also made you more aroused shot through you. He pressed deep into you and massaged your walls, pushing you off the edge once again. He let you pull his hair with both hands, only groaning as his head tilted back from the force. 
Even like this, he didn't stop. Instead, he used the added wetness to add a finger. 
"Sorry, I'm greedy. Can I have one more, y/n? Just one more okay?" He said it so casually you'd think he was saying one more cigarette or one more pint. He pulled the dress from your mouth, revealing the ache in your jaw that you couldn't be bothered with yet. 
"I want to hear you." 
He pressed a hand against your stomach, holding the dress and your hips still as he leaned him and attacked your clit once more. The tightening coil in your lower belly was almost overwhelming now. 
"Oh god, too much, too deep," 
"Hm? You're not making sense, love," Michael said just as he began a steady pace of pressing the sweet spot deep in you. "It's too much?" You only responded with your eyes rolling back as you shivered. "You're this worked up from my fingers. How do you think you'll be when I actually get inside of you?" 
The thought itself made your walls flutter around him. Your body tensed and released as you cried out. Michael continued until you were calmed, merely whimpering. He freed you, and you slowly found yourself panting on your knees. 
Through hooded eyes, you watched Michael lick your cum from his fingers. How did this country boy end up this way? He pulled his handkerchief out and cleaned his hands, then his face. 
"Sorry, you didn't get a taste, love. Here." 
Michael let you slump forward into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth before kissing you. His tongue pressed past your lips before you could even think to stop it. As he intended, you could taste yourself all over him. 
Something stirred in you, but you were too spent at the moment to do much more than getting drunk off of this sinful kiss. Michael kissed you fervently until finally, they came soft and lazy. When he pulled away, he cupped your cheek. 
"That was good," you finally said. You leaned against Michael's chest and closed your eyes, allowing a small smile to grace your lips. "For a country boy." 
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elmidol · 3 years
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Propane Nightmares [NSFW]
Pairing: Tyki x Reader x Earl
Warnings: Noncon; dubcon; loss of virginity; aphrodisiacs; canon-typical religious elements; fingering; double-penetration; oral; potentially other elements?; some verbal humiliation; probably some blasphemy
Notes: Originally Written April 25, 2011. Titled after “Propane Nightmares” by Pendulum. word count is a little over 8k.
reposting for @maskedjoker because I saw that tag on my Earl and Tyki thirst post~
Propane Nightmares
 Originally, you had been appointed the task of gathering more information on the Noah after rumor had circulated regarding formal meetings between them and the folks of high society. Such was your job as a finder. No one had bothered the divulge, however, that the Noah had been tipped off on the Order’s intentions; there had been no cancellations on your orders, and, subsequently, no means for your knowing that your drink would be laced with drugs. It had been a sleeping drug, which had caused you to wander off from the other guests prior to passing out. When you had awoken, you had found yourself chained to a chair, your feet snug against the legs of the chair, and hands bound behind your back. Tyki Mikk sat in front of you, straddling a second chair, whose back was facing you. You watched his lips twist upwards upon his noticing you had awoken.
 Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in all of your surroundings. It was a study of some sort, from what you could tell; a few bookshelves, a desk on the far wall, and an assortment of chairs. Upon returning your gaze to the Noah, you released a small gasp and your eyes widened—a second man stood behind Tyki. This gentleman you had previously believed to be one of the Earl’s many brokers. His current presence, however, allowed you to realize that he had a more intimate connection with the Family Noah. I wonder what his powers are, you thought to yourself; the Order already possessed information regarding Tyki Mikk’s abilities. Due to this fact, you jumped half an inch in your seat when Tyki leaned forward.
 “Don’t be scared, girl~” Tyki said calmly, his smile a mockery of innocence. You shuddered at how well he pulled off the nice-guy façade. “We just want to ask you some questions.”
 You swallowed hard, stiffened, and then took a deep breath. “I…I’ll die before I tell you…anything.” Despite the stutter and hesitance, your tone held true to the courage you were feeling—you were willing to die before handing over any sort of information to these men; no, they were monsters.
 Tyki reached past the back of the chair and placed his hand on your knee. His fingers gently rolled the muscles surrounding your kneecap, the actions reminiscent of a massage. “The Order has made sure you won’t talk even when pressured by torture, right?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, your teeth gritting together behind your frown. Tyki’s voice dropped in volume, growing husky. “That’s why I’m here~”
 “So what, you’ll remove my organs one by one?” you ground out, jerking your knee away. Your joint hardly slipped out of the Noah’s hands before the chain prevented you from venturing further.
 Tyki smirked, swung his leg over the side of the chair, and stood in a fluid, graceful movement that left you blinking. You shrank into your seat a little. He, on the other hand, closed to distance between the two of you and there knelt. His eyes locked with yours; you held his gaze with eyelids half-closed. Your heart beat faster in your chest as you fully expected him to reach within you—his hand slid closer, fingers travelling up your leg—and you were waiting for him to go for a kidney. Without removing your clothes, his flesh met yours—in a much different manner than what you had expected.
 You released a loud gasp prior to biting down on your bottom lip and averting your gaze; his fingers danced along your inner-thigh, travelling upward until just their tips met with your lower lips. You shifted your hips away from his touch. Tyki, an amused grin spreading at your retreat, only thrust his hand forward, and slipped his middle finger into your depths. Your eyes widened, and your legs began to shake.
 “St-stop.” Tyki only stuck his tongue out at you. You stared at the organ, a deep flush settling on your face as he waggled it suggestively. He started thrusting the single digit in and out. He cupped your entire pussy in his hand, rubbing your outer lips while continuously withdrawing and plunging his finger inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut and attempted to cross your legs. The chains prevented you from accomplishing this task; all you had managed to do was trap Tyki’s arm between your thighs. Your breathing grew labored, and you flinched when a second finger was added.
 The Noah gripped your legs with his free hand and spread them once again. He pushed his torso closer to you, making sure you would be unable to shift too much for his liking.
 The Millennium Earl, meanwhile, had shifted position in the room; he stood so where he was able to better see what Tyki was doing to you. At the same time, he made certain he was able to view your face. His lips twitched upward upon seeing you begin to rotate your hips in time with the Noah’s sinful fingers.
 Just as your body was beginning to grow warm, just as you could feel the tingling waves of pleasure coursing through yourself, Tyki’s fingers retreated. Your eyes snapped open. You continued to pant, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Tyki’s tongue lapping against the digits that had previously been inside of you.
 “How many days have you been here?” the Noah asked, cocking his head to the side. Through with speaking, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and released a husky moan that sent fire shooting through your loins.
 You only shook your head in response.
 Tyki sighed, seemingly disappointed, before straightening himself up. He stood in front of you at that point, his hands working at the front of his pants. You swallowed twice as saliva gathered in your mouth, your breathing growing heavier by the minute. This sensation was foreign to you; having been recruited by the Order at a young age, you had been discouraged from participating in any act remotely sexual. In fact, education on sexual manners had been so censored that your eyes grew wide as saucers the moment Tyki tugged his pants halfway down his hips. The sight of his penis enthralled, disgusted, and repelled you at once.
 You could not tear your eyes away even as he reached forward with on hand, gripped the back of your chair, and with the second hand took hold of his cock.
 “That was an easy one too,” Tyki said with a laugh, his breathing growing rigid as he began to pump himself. He watched you, and was overly amused by the fact that your eyes were glued to his growing erection. “Ah, that’s right. You were probably raised by the Order, huh? You’ve never seen a dick?” He shifted his fingers to allow you a better view.
 You bit down harder on your bottom lip and forced yourself to look away; fascinated though you might have been, you were still convinced of the Order’s teachings that premarital sexual activities were wrong—sinful.
 The second male moved into your line of sight. You stared at him, still unsure of his abilities as a Noah. His presence also made you highly uncomfortable knowing that he was watching every dirty deed Tyki had performed—and would likely perform—with you. Tyki’s hand stopped mid-stroke and he muttered out ‘Duke’ when the man stepped between you and the Noah of Pleasure. Your eyes widened considerably at the revelation—the Millennium Earl had a human form, and said form was currently standing before you. He removed the hat from his head, set it off to the side, and stood erect once again. Your eyes were locked with his as he repeated Tyki’s previous question: how many days had you been there?
 “You…you can go suck a dick!” you said with a hiss.
 The Earl and Tyki both laughed a single, baritone chuckle and locked gazes with one another. Tyki’s hand ran up his length while the Earl motioned towards the Noah of Pleasure’s erection. “That one?” They both watched your face; the expression of pure and utter shock, of morbid curiosity and disgust as it crossed your features. Your eyes flickered between the Earl’s motioning hand and Tyki’s shaft.
 “Th-that’s….”
 Before you could finish your sentence, the Earl interrupted you, supplying an ending, “A sin?”
 “A handful of sins!”
 He cocked his head to the side, suddenly interested. “Oh? Not just the homosexual aspect, I see. Has the church taught you that oral sex is a sin? Then…if I were to…” With each word he moved closer to you, knelt between your legs, and had you literally trembling as his hands reached into the hem of your pants. He tugged them down, your panties in tow, and blew lightly on your exposed pussy. The warm air had you gasping and closing your eyes tightly. “…do this…” He pushed his face into you, his tongue wiggling out of his mouth and lapping at you. Your mind swam with a multitude of emotions as the sensation of immense pleasure filled you. His tongue retreated long enough for him to finish, “…are we sinning together?”
 Your bottom lip slipped out from between your teeth, a chunk of shaky breaths erupting from your mouth. The Earl, meanwhile, began nibbling your inner lips, his tongue flicking along and tracing the entrance of your vagina prior to slinking in. You looked away from the Earl, trying to force the sight of him eating you out from your mind—the feeling alone was enough to boggle your brain. This, however, only resulted in you catching a glimpse and thus becoming entranced by Tyki’s hands pleasuring himself. One hand rolled his balls around, the other running up and down his shaft, fingers caressing the head.
 You spread your legs wider just slightly without realizing what you were doing, and the Earl grinned at the obvious invitation. He left you disappointed; though amused and pleased with the fact that your body was responding so nicely to his ministrations, he drew back. Tyki, likewise, stopped masturbating, and your gaze fell away from him to the Earl’s face. You stared at the head of the Noah clan, your face flushed with arousal, embarrassment and anger, and your breathing coming out in deep pants.
 “How many days have you been here?” You shook your head. Your mind, though blurred with pleasure, served just as well to remind you that you were not to divulge anything to the enemy. To this, the Earl only shook his head. He leaned forward, gave your pussy a single lick, and withdrew his tongue once again. You gasped, your hips bucking to meet the organ. “Was it one?” You bit your bottom lip yet again.
 Tyki’s eyes were focused on your face, searching for any hints. “No.” The Earl nodded, leaned forward, and thrust his tongue into you deeply.  You threw your head back, moaning, the sound muffled by your closed mouth. A whimper then escaped you—the Earl had pulled away. “Not quite,” Tyki commented. Again did the tongue assault you, that time trailing from your lower belly into your folds. You shook your head, and the Earl repeated the action in reverse.
 “Oh God, yes!” You hated yourself for saying it, despised the fact that the Noah were laughing at you.
 “Four days,” they said in unison. The Earl looked up at your face from his position between your legs. “Is that right? Four days?” You could not meet his gaze. “Or was it more? I could keep going.” You felt yourself growing wetter with his words. His mouth returned to your pussy, and he began suckling. You could no longer hold back the moans; a single finger had joined the Earl’s tongue—Tyki’s finger. The Noah of Pleasure knelt beside the other male, both intent on driving you over the edge it seemed.
 Simultaneously, they pulled out. “It was four, right?” Tyki asked you. Before your mind, so filled and blinded by pleasure, could function correctly, you found yourself nodding. Then you stiffened, realizing what you had done. You bowed your head in shame, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry~” Tyki and the Earl spread your legs apart as far as they could go while bound. You winced slightly at the pain this caused you, and stared at the two men through watery eyes. “We’ll make you feel better~”
 Your jaw dropped, and you could not even fathom what to think when the two Noahs’ tongues met—they failed to kiss one another fully, instead opting to not only rub their organs along one another’s, but also inside of your wet pussy. You gasped, swallowed, and fought for breath at the sensation of the two tongues battling for dominance against one another while still buried in your folds. Tyki’s was the first to retreat, and he blew lightly against your entrance, which was still being fucked by the Earl’s tongue. The Earl then moved away, having felt your walls tighten around his organ in a sure sign you were close to orgasm.
 “Doesn’t this feel nice? The three of us sinning together.” Tyki chuckled off to the side, running a hand through his hair to push back his bangs.  The Earl made light, small circles on your ankle as he spoke.
 Swallowing the saliva gathered in your mouth to keep yourself from drooling, you forced yourself to take a single, shaky breath. You were doing all that you could to calm yourself, to bring your body under your mind’s command. Regaining most of your normal composure, you were able to once more glare at the Millennium Earl and Tyki Mikk with pure defiance in your eyes. Seeing the challenge this posed for gaining future information from you, the Earl grinned widely. You barely managed to fight off the shudder that threatened to run down your entire frame. This was a battle of wills, and you refused to allow yourself to be defeated, especially by the likes of the two present Noah.
 The Earl stood before you and then walked behind your back. You felt his fingers dancing along your wrists, tapping against the chains that bound you. You turned your head to see what he was doing, however your attention returned immediately to Tyki when he raised himself as well. His dick stood painfully erect before you, and you eyed the organ warily while listening to the Earl’s next question.
 “Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?”
 Inhaling deeply, you allowed your eyelids to drift close and outright refused to answer the question. To this, the Earl only gripped the chain one your wrists, tugging lightly so where the metal bit into your flesh. Used to this sort of pain from your training, you made no noise of complaint. Your heartbeat was beginning to return to its normal rate as well, your body completely unperturbed by the metal slicing through several layers of skin. The Earl shifted to where his mouth was directly beside your ear. Again did your heartbeat increase its rhythm; the feeling of his breath on your ear reminded you of the sensation below, of how skilled his tongue had been. You clenched your hands into fists and fought for control over yourself, almost winning when he asked:
 “They water-board you as part of your training, correct?” You stiffened slightly. It was true that you were no stranger to being water boarded, however that in no way indicated that you enjoyed it. You twisted your torso a fraction of an inch to look up at his face. The Earl peered down at you, his expression one of pure indifference. “Does drowning scare you?” You blinked once. “What about choking—did they shove anything into your mouth, hmm?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and the Earl smiled in self-congratulations.
 He moved to where he stood in front of you and motioned to Tyki. The Noah of Pleasure took up the position the Earl had previously held, his hands then seizing the restraints. You tensed your legs upon feeling your hands pulled back, and you knew full well the moment he used his power to push your hands and the chains past the back of the chair.
 “Do you know what we’re doing?” You were too absorbed in what Tyki was doing to make note of who asked the question. The Noah of Pleasure released your hands, once more returning to the Earl’s side.  The two men shared a look prior to the Millennium Earl grabbing you by the shoulder and literally tossing you onto the ground. He caught the chair before it was able to follow suit and collapse onto you. You winced as your shoulder then face smacked into the floor. A small whimper escaped from you, however you fought back any other noises.
 You groaned as the Earl rolled you onto your back then sat on the chair, staring down at you. He placed his feet on your legs, which were twisted slightly due to the position you were currently in. You shifted, attempting to alleviate some of the strain, and were stopped by both the restraints around your ankles, and the Earl pressed down on you. He asked again if you knew what was going on, and that time you shook your head.
 The Earl nodded, his eyes drifted towards Tyki, who recognized the signal immediately. The Noah of Pleasure straddled your chest, the tip of his erection touching your lips. Catching onto what they were planning, you swung your head to face the far wall. Your eyes were widened in horror, your heart beating loudly and quickly in your chest. You were certain Tyki was able to feel your pulse.
 “Don’t even think about biting,” Tyki said. He then looked skyward, rubbing his chin. “Not that you really could.” The Earl and Tyki laughed at your expense. At the same time, Tyki gripped you by the hair and forced you to face him. He shifted his hips forward, the head of his penis flush against your lips. You could smell his musk, could feel the precum dripping onto you. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, you told yourself. That’s all you had to do. Tyki grinned down at you, his teeth and eyes reminding you of a monster—you trembled at the sight of the trademark Noah-grin. You remembered at that exact moment that it did not matter if you opened your mouth or not—his ability made you completely vulnerable even should you successfully keep your mouth shut.
 But that was not what he wanted, and you realized this upon feeling the Earl’s foot stomp down hard on your ankle. You whimpered and gasped, feeling the bone break, and instantly regretted it as Tyki thrust his hips forward, his penis entering your mouth. He did not stop there; the Noah made certain that his dick hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around the organ. Tyki slowly withdrew then rolled his hips again. You felt tears forming in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, as the sensation and thoughts of dying from asphyxiation clouded your mind. Above you, Tyki moaned. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, and he forced your head to bob up and down his length while he fucked your mouth.
 After thrusting into your throat several times, he withdrew from your mouth. Still seated on the seat behind Tyki and above you, the Earl repeated his previous question: Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?
 You, however, were busy coughing and gagging. Fighting to catch your breath, you sobbed. All the while, Tyki continued to run his hand through your hair, rocking his hips, ever ready to resume. It seemed to them that you took too long; you screamed around Tyki’s erection as it entered your mouth and once more hit against the back of your throat. The vibrations of your scream caused Tyki to groan loudly in pleasure. You attempted to jerk your head away from him, but were unable to due to the fact that Tyki still held captive your hair. He did, however, relent slightly; the Noah no longer pressed himself to where he hit your throat, but instead ran the head of his penis against your tongue. You tasted the precum, at the same time your nostrils were filled with the scent of his musk. For a second time, Tyki withdrew from your mouth without cumming. He stared down at you while, for a third time, the Earl asked the question.
 “J…just…” More tears spilled down your cheeks; you did not want to betray the Order, but it did not count if the information was harmless, did it? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t betrayal if it didn’t hurt the Order. “…I only…I only recognized the ones…that the Order…” You swallowed hard, your throat sore. “Only the ones that the Order already knows of…”
 The Earl nodded, but you barely saw the action past Tyki’s body. The patriarch of the Noah family shifted in his seat, his own pants becoming unbearably tight. In his next question, you heard his voice deepen, grow husky: “What Noah do the Order know about?”
 Your legs were growing numb, and you attempted to move them to get the blood flowing once more. The Earl allowed this, and even aided you just a little by pushing against your shins. Your gaze flickered to Tyki, then darted to the Earl, and finally settled on the Noah of Pleasure’s face. He was staring down at you lovingly—it was all about lust, you well knew.
 “I…I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping this would satisfy the two. Tyki only sighed, gripped your head, and ignored your protests as he entered your mouth against. This time, his moan was loud. It echoed in your head as his hips rolled forward, the head of his dick sliding against the roof of your mouth. It tickled somewhat, and you shuddered in response.  He moved, alternating between running the upperside of his shaft against the roof of your mouth, and the underside along your tongue. Your throat constricted the moment he ventured to move in that deeply. You hardly heard his hiss of ‘Oh, fuck yes’, your vision growing blurred from the lack of oxygen. You attempted several times to breathe through your nose, however were assaulted and overwhelmed by his scent.
 His thrusting grew more frantic. You felt his hand hit against your chin, and your brow furrowed before you realized that he was cupping his sac while he continued to rape your mouth. You shut your eyes tightly, knowing what was coming—knowing that he was about to cum. You hoped and prayed that he would go ahead and thrust once more into the back of your throat so that you would not have to taste him. Those prayers remained unanswered; Tyki made certain his seed spilled on your tongue and filled your mouth. Upon pulling out, he slammed a hand over your lips, preventing you from spitting out the semen.
 You swallowed several times, fought off the urge to gag, and sobbed pathetically when Tyki removed his hand. A handful of tears slipped down your cheeks; you were completely and utterly disgusted with yourself, were sure that you were going to Hell for what you had been forced to do—that’s what the Order had told you would happen. Tyki moved off your chest, and both Noah watched you cry. The younger Noah ran a thumb up and down your cheek in a semi-comforting manner. You could only shake your head in response.
 “But…but I really…I really don’t know that,” you said, sobbing loudly and voice breaking several times during that short sentence. “I just…only ….the list…”
 The Earl hummed in response; it was a bit late for him to be agreeing with you, to be accepting that answer, you thought. Tyki had already had his way with you.
 Standing, the Noah patriarch took out a piece of paper from his pocket. You recognized it immediately as the list you had mentioned. If he already knew about the list….then why would they do that…? You sobbed yet again. He then knelt between your legs, reaching backwards and snapping the chains off with a brief summoning of dark power. You yanked your limbs away from him, curling in on yourself in an attempt to hide your lower half from his wandering eyes. Tyki watched with vague interest as the Earl seized your hips and pulled you into his lap. You cried into his chest, his hands crossed behind your back and unlocking the shackles on your wrists.
 Your arms, sore and tender from the position they had been trapped in for so long, flopped lamely to your sides for a minute. Blood pulsed through your limbs in an aching speed that had you tensing and hissing in discomfort. At the same time, you were not oblivious to the Earl’s own growing discomfort, to the erection pressing against you from under his clothing. His hands were lecherous, venturing to touch and rub first your arms, then your hips, and finally your chest. He squeezed your breasts, causing you to gasp and attempt to retreat. Pulling away, you landed on your back against, only to have the Earl roll on top of you. One hand remained on your chest, pinching a nipple through your shirt and bra, and the other rested beside your face in order to prop himself up.
 You grit your teeth together, shutting your eyes and gasping as he rolled the nipple between finger and thumb. His hips pressed into yours, his erection pressing tightly against your wet pussy. You whimpered beneath him, and felt tears running down your cheeks yet again. He began licking up the salty-water that fell from your eyes, his lips pressing gently against your eyelids after following the trail.
 “Were you able to gather any new information on the Noah?” he asked, the hand abandoning your breast to trail between your two bodies—down, down, running over your abdomen, next your pelvic bone, and finally a knuckle slipping between your folds as he gripped the zipper of his pants. You heard him tug the metal down, and felt his hand move against you as he undid the button as well.
 You opened your eyes and stared at him, horrorstruck as he pulled himself out of his pants. His hips shifted lightly, however he made no mood to penetrate you. “I….I…” He ran his tongue over his lips, and you stared, hypnotized by the pink organ. He slipped his hand back up your body, first cupping your thigh and slowly massaging up. You were growing wetter the higher he went, panting as his thumb hooked for just a moment into your pussy, massaging your clit prior to venturing higher. Subconsciously, you spread your legs further for the Earl and he rewarded you by pressing forward. Your body tensed upon feeling the head of the Earl’s erection brush against your lower lips. “Please…d-don’t.”
 “Just answer the question,” he told you, although he obliged in the slightest by shifting to where his penis was not so snug against you.
 “Y-y-yes.” You looked away from his face, staring instead at one of the bookcases in the room. This was getting to the point of betrayal, you told yourself. Anything further and you would be damned if you answered their questions. At the same time, you told yourself that you were damned if the Earl or Tyki had their way with you; premarital sex was immoral! You sniffled, chest heaving with yet another sob. “Just pl-please don’t.” You pulled your hips away from his, your hands moving to cover yourself. The Earl watched this with fascination, and Tyki also observed your actions with growing interest.
 “You’ve already told the Order the information?” the Millennium Earl asked, placing both hands on either side of your head and moving to where he was on all fours over you. You sobbed in response to his interrogation. That was enough of an answer for him. “What information did you give to them?”
 “I…I can’t…I can’t…” You felt as though you were suffocating; the feeling of weight on your chest, of air not able to get into your lungs was worse than when Tyki had fucked your mouth. Your throat was still sore from the abuse, and every ragged breath you took only made things worse. You gulped in a mouthful of air, fear clenching your heart as the Earl started to undo the buttons on his shirt. You shook your head, hands flying up to grab his, to stop his actions. He paused for only a moment as your fingers curled around his hand, and stared down at you. His erection throbbed painfully at the sight of you sputtering out nonsensical words, of you begging him to please wait. Then he resumed undressing himself, that time with more fervor, his eyes half-lidded with lust.
 You pulled yourself out from underneath his body successfully just as he was shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. However, you had completely forgotten about Tyki’s presence, and were startled when the second Noah’s arms wrapped around your waist to stop your escape. While the Earl finished pulling off his pants, and while you tried to tear yourself from Tyki’s grasp, the Noah of pleasure peeled your shirt from your body with his ability. You covered your chest, which was then covered only by your bra, and thus left yourself open to Tyki’s hands removing your pants and panties completely from your body.
 Crossing your legs, you turned your body halfway away from the two men, trying to hide yourself. The Earl sighed in contentment at the sight, and Tyki made quick work of removing his own clothes. He used only one hand, the second squeezing between your thighs, two fingers rubbing against and then into your vagina. You gasped, yours hips initially jerked away from the contact before Tyki began curling and uncurling the digits. At that point, you could not stop your body from responding to the touch. It did not help either when the Noah of pleasure tugged you closer, your back against his torso, or when the Earl moved to where he had better access to you. His hands gripped you, forced your legs apart, and he thrust two more fingers into your depth. You released a small scream at the pain that flooded through your mind, unused to such stretching and pressure in the lower regions of your body.
 “Stop! That hurts!”
 “Oh~?” Tyki peered down at your pussy from over your shoulder, watching as his and the Earl’s fingers thrust in and out of you. A few drops of red and pink came out as he jerked his fingers away for a moment. “You really are a virgin.” The fingers returned, and you jumped at the intrusion, bouncing against Tyki, accidentally causing the fingers to thrust into you harder. The Noah of Pleasure kissed the top of your head, his lips and kisses trailing down the side of your face, until he arrived at your neck. He nibbled at your flesh, tongue flicking out and teasing.
 You were starting to moan as the fingers wiggled and danced within you, as Tyki’s tongue lapped at your neck, as the Earl’s free hand squeezed and tormented your breasts. You threw your head back, sobbing and moaning at the same time. It was getting hard to breathe, it was getting—so fucking hot. You felt sweat running down your body as you moved your hips in time with the fingers. Tyki’s hand joined the Earl’s and started to play with your other breast.  The Earl, likewise, moved forward and started to lick the other side of your neck. You felt several times their tongues meet as they licked every inch of your neck. Tyki’s erection pressed into your back and you gasped, your tongue lolling in your mouth.
  The Earl withdrew his fingers first, running them along your body and trailing upwards until he was able to lick both your neck and your juices at the same time. He then shifted and ran his tongue down your body, over the line he had previously smeared on you. Your tears seemed to have dried up, and you could only manage a shaky breath and a weak sob as the Earl’s mouth engulfed you. He sucked at your wet pussy, his tongue running along Tyki’s fingers and your inner walls.
 Tyki withdrew his fingers, caressing the Earl’s face for a moment before moving both hands to your hips. You watched the action, confused. “Duke, we’re still going to ask her, right?” Tyki asked, pressing closer to you. The Millennium Earl kissed back up your body until his face was above your head and he looked Tyki directly in the eyes. You looked up to watch the pair, your mind and body still coming down from the high that the two Noah had given to you. You leaned your head against Tyki’s shoulder, and continued to pant. The pair of men gazed down at you, watching you watch them.
 “That’s correct.”  Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip as he moved to where his forehead rested against yours. “What information were you able to give the Order?”
 You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you released your lip in order to say, “I’m not…not allowed…I won’t…”
 The Earl seized your hips, his hands directly above Tyki’s. Both Noah forced your hips forward, and you scrambled against the feeling of the Earl’s erection against your entrance. He slammed his hips up, burying himself in you immediately. A scream ripped from your throat at the sudden intrusion. You jerked your body, attempting to remove yourself. The Earl, meanwhile, groaned loudly and whispered a multitude of words regarding how tight you felt.
 “Oh, God!” you whimpered. “You…I’m…”
 “Were you saving it for your husband~?” Tyki cooed, nuzzling you while dropping his hands from your hips to your ass. You stiffened as he began to knead your flesh, and you stared at the Earl, who had yet to move since he first entered you. “We’re very good at destroying innocence~” The two Noah laughed, and you shuddered.
 “Are you going to answer the question?” the Earl asked, lifting his hips further into yours. You wiggled against him, unable to remove yourself from him as his hands held you in place. Tyki continued to massage your butt, his fingers  running over your cheeks and seeking a different entrance. You tensed upon realizing what he was doing, your head whipping around to look at him. He smirked at you in response. “You have five seconds….four…” With wide eyes, you looked at the Earl. Tyki’s fingers wiggled into you, causing you to buck your hips. This resulted in your gasping and the Earl moaning lowly in his throat. “…three…”
 “Wait, wait…”
 “…two…” Tyki positioned himself, the tip of his erection pressing tightly against your anus.  You opened your mouth then closed it. “…one…” Eyes impossibly wide and mouth hanging open as you prepared to beg once more for him to wait, you felt the wind get knocked out of you as Tyki thrust forward. A handful of screams tore from you, and once more you found yourself sobbing as your mind was filled with a searing pain.
 “I hell need going stop trouble,” you said. The two men looked at your face, both blinking as you sputtered nonsense. The Earl was the first to laugh, and Tyki followed this by a chuckle. Both shifted their hips, attempting to establish a rhythm. You grit your teeth and hissed in pain.
 Tyki looked at the Earl past your shoulder and suggested, “Maybe you should lay down?” The Millennium Earl obliged, shifting to where he was on his back and you were on top of him. Tyki moved forward at the same time, making sure he did not slip from your tightness. The new position did help to alleviate some of the pain you were experiencing.
 You placed your hands on the Earl’s chest when you felt as though you were about to collapse from the slight discomfort that remained. The Earl and Tyki rotated their hips another time, and you shifted as a hint of pleasure washed over your body. Not again, I can’t be enjoying this—not again, you screamed at yourself in your mind. All the same, you could not prevent the ‘mmm’ from escaping you. You ran your tongue over your lips, the room suddenly feeling hot beyond all reason. You felt the heat start to center around your belly before it shifted lower.
 The first time you rocked your hips in time with Tyki and the Earl’s thrusting, your mind hardly registered it. The second time, you cursed yourself. On the third occasion, however, you were growing so hot that you hardly cared. The phrase ‘I’m going to hell’ repeated itself in your mind over and over, and still you continued to ride the two Noah. You ran your hands up and down the Earl’s bare chest, trailing your fingers by the tips only down the Earl’s abs. They shuddered under your touch, and the Earl gave an appreciative moan, jerking his hips into you. You rolled your hips against his in return, making sure to wiggle against Tyki, who started suckling at your neck in response.
 Suddenly the two paused, and it was you alone who was riding the pair. They both fought the urge to resume, seeing how eager you were growing. Tyki and the Earl steadied your hips with firm grips. You stared down at the Earl questioningly, mind in a boggle from the pleasure you were receiving. Your teeth started to saw through your bottom lip—it was so hot in the room! There was so much pressure in the lower half of your body, pressure that demanded you move against the dicks that were buried within you.
 “What information did you tell the Order?” the Earl asked. You groaned in response, your hands shoving against the limbs that were holding you in place. Below you, the Earl rotated his hips a second before Tyki also swiveled himself. You moaned as a result, eyelids fluttering closed. “Did it involve our abilities?” This time, Tyki thrust forward, forcing the Earl deeper into you.
 “Oh…mmm…” You were breathing unevenly, your hands running along your own body. One hand cupped a single breast. You pinched and rolled a single nipple, kneading the breast as your other hand wormed its way to way you were able to thrust a single finger into yourself. You moved it up and down the Earl’s shaft before focusing on pleasuring yourself.
 Tyki pulled out of you right before the Earl flipped you onto your back, his hips withdrawing until his dick left you with a slick sound. Then he slammed himself forward, reentering you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, bucking your hips into his. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he started to fuck you from his kneeling position. You removed your finger from yourself and grasped at the Earl’s balls, rolling them and touching them. All too soon, the Earl reached behind himself, unhooked your legs, and pulled out; you cursed as he regained control of the situation.
 “That’s a pretty strong aphrodisiac you put in her drink,” you heard Tyki say as your focus swam. “How much did you give her anyway?”
 You were unable to hear the Earl’s response. You had once more buried your finger into yourself, adding a second as you started to scissor yourself. The two Noah watched you for a minute as you brought yourself to the pique of pleasure—and then the Earl seized your hands , securing them behind your back. He forced you backwards into his lap. You wiggled against him, trying to position yourself over his erection before noticing that Tyki had moved in front of you.
 “I shouldn’t have given her that much,” the Earl muttered as you spread your legs for Tyki. The two Noah smirked; you threw your head back as Tyki entered you. Your hips were immediately moving against his, your legs wrapped around the man in order to force him closer, deeper. You were panting heavily by then. Tyki chuckled, moving in and out of you with skill. “Hmm.”
 The Earl pushed you into Tyki’s arms, releasing your hands. You grasped the Noah of Pleasure’s shoulders, still riding him even as the Earl thrust into your anus. You groaned out an ‘oh yes’ and shifted to where you could enjoy them both in full.
 Tyki’s hands were on your thighs, and the Earl’s on your chest.  You had your legs wrapped around Tyki’s torso and arms draped behind you around the Earl’s neck. You pulled him closer, pressing your lips against his in such haste that your teeth collided. The Earl growled in response, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Simultaneously, Tyki started to nibble once again at your neck. Your lips left the Earl’s and you seized Tyki’s, your tongue running along his. Not allowing you much of a chance to get away, the Earl leaned further into you, his mouth joining. The three of your tongues fought for dominance, slipping on occasion into someone’s mouth, although you were never quite sure whose.
 For a second time, both men pulled away and out of you. You whimpered; they had grabbed your limbs and stretched you out to keep you from pleasuring yourself.
 “Did it have anything to do with…” The Earl paused, breathing heavily. “Did the information regard the Noah’s abilities?”
 “Oh fuck…” You could feel that you were so close to cumming. Your body was screaming for the two men to enter you, while your mind battled with the effects of the aphrodisiac and the knowledge that you should not reveal anything to the two men. You swallowed hard, eyes wandering over Tyki and the Earl’s naked bodies. The sight of their erections alone was about enough to make you cum. “It was…how…the looks…”
 The Millennium Earl whipped you onto his lap, where you immediately wrapped your legs securely in place; while he thrust inside, you pushed yourself onto him. The Earl reached past you, gripping Tyki’s hips and forcing the Noah of Pleasure against you. Tyki obliged without complaint, moving to where he was able to reenter you. He gripped your hair and harshly yanked your head back, literally shoving his tongue towards the back of your throat. You whimpered then moaned in response, moving your hips in time with theirs.
 Your hands were running up and down the Earl’s chest, until you found his abs again. Releasing your hair, Tyki reached in front of you, his hands gripping harshly at your chest. You shuddered in slight pain and noticed that his rhythm was increasing, that he was getting close. You continued to kiss him, your hands seizing the Earl’s wrists and bringing them to your chest as well. The Earl groaned lowly, leaving one hand on your right breast while the other grabbed you by the back of your neck. He jerked you forward and claimed your mouth. You felt yourself tighten around him as he thrust his tongue in and out of your mouth, mimicking what was going on below. You came for a second time, and this caused the Earl to cum only a few seconds following. Tyki continued to thrust into you even after the Earl pulled out.
 He then paused, realizing what had happened, and forced you onto all fours while pulling out. He positioned himself at the entrance of your vagina and then thrust forward. He had one hand on your back, keeping you in place while he fucked you as though you were an animal. Not that you minded in the least at that point—you were rocking your hips back into his.
 You reached forward with a single hand, gripping the Earl’s shaft as it softened, and leaned until you were able to lap up the semen and juices that had stuck to him.
 “Fuck, that’s hot,” you heard Tyki say. He pulled all the way out and then thrust forward, forcing your face further into the Earl’s lap. A moment later, Tyki came with a loud groan. He continued to thrust into you until his shaft had fully softened.
 At that point, you were so hot once more that you rolled onto your back and, not caring who was watching, started to fuck yourself with your fingers. Tyki licked his lips, an action that the Earl mimicked.  Both of them spread your legs and buried their tongues within your depths. “Oh, fuck yes,” you hissed jerked your hips into their faces.  Tyki licked a trail from your pussy up to your neck then back down again, while the Earl forced your finger away and started to roll your clit between his teeth. When you felt Tyki slip his tongue into you again, you moaned. You felt your walls tighten around their tongues, almost sobbed in pure ecstasy as they continued lapping at you even as you came. You were left gasping for air when they moved away from you. Tyki wiped his chin with an arm, all the while licking his lips.
 “Still can’t believe the Order was dumb enough to send a girl~” You blinked at him, your mind not fully registering what the Noah was saying.
 The Earl took a deep breath, stared down at you, and made a noise of agreement; in the back of his mind, he wondered if the Order had expected this, but then dismissed the thought immediately upon reflecting on all the information he was able to gain from you. He then pushed himself into a standing position and crossed the room, where he retrieved a cup of water. The Millennium Earl sat beside you, helped you into his lap, and pressed the rim of the cup against your mouth. You greedily started to drink the water, whimpering as he would pull the glass away then replace it. He seemed to be purposely spilling some of the water on your chest.
 Again he took the cup away from you. That time he did not give it back, instead taking a sip himself. You reached for it, but were unable to retrieve it as Tyki took the water and sucked down what little remained.
 “Do we kill her?” the Noah of Pleasure asked, rubbing a hand down your back. He stroked you as though you were a house pet. You stiffened at his question, looking between him and the Earl. “She might tell the Order what you look like.”
 The Earl brushed back some of your hair. “I’m not worried about that.” He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, caressing the area of flesh with his tongue. He released you, looking at Tyki. The Earl then shifted his gaze to you. “I wonder—what is the Order going to do to once they find out everything?” You shuddered at the thought; even if they did not put you to death for your acts of heresy, you were certain you would not be welcome amongst your comrades. “I suppose we’ll just have to return her.” You did not like the way he grinned as he said that. Your mind screamed as he once more moved atop you, as your body, under the influences of the aphrodisiac, responded to his sinful, lecherous hands.
 *****
 You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at your superiors. The way quite a few of them were eyeballing you left a wave of chills running through you; quite a few of them were leering at you in the same manner both the Earl and Tyki had. This fact alone made you wish that you had been able to leave out the information regarding your debauchery, however the Order had made it clear that they would tolerate no editing or omitting to your tale. There was a mutual agreement amongst your superiors that your body would need to be cleansed; at that, you shuddered. All the while, they admitted that they were thoroughly pleased with the information you had provided—especially that regarding the Millennium Earl’s human appearance. Really, he shouldn’t have allowed you to live.
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kate-river · 3 years
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Proud to present you “Toussaint’s Finest” - my witcher fic written for the Eskel Big Bang, featuring incredible art from the wonderful @justhereforeskel Enjoy! ;)
Relationship: Eskel/Geralt
Rating: M
Word Count: 9K
Summary:
Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever.
Read the first chapter below and or the completed fic on AO3.
Check out @justhereforeskel‘s artwork!
Eskel knelt down beside the riverbank. The gravel scrunched under his boots and for a second, his cat-like eyes flashed in the sun. He sighed when he reached into the water and watched as the stream carried away a tiny trail of blood.
The wind rustled in the nearby trees and the witcher, still rubbing his hands clean, turned his gaze southeast. In the distance shimmered the familiar vineyards of the Sansretour valley and the sight of their natural beauty stirred something in his heart.
Behind him though, the monstrous cadaver of a bear lay on the blood-soaked ground. The beast had a ferocious wound on its shoulder and the once so powerful creature seemed shrunken now that its body was lifeless. The most apparent feature of the corpse however, was its missing head. The very same that dangled from Scorpion’s saddle.
When Eskel got up, he was disgusted and sick at the sight. As a witcher he was supposed to kill beasts. But a bear? It had just been another curiosity that had suffered from coming too close to a village.
Eskel sighed as he mounted Scorpion. He strongly felt the need to leave this place; to move on. To get away from a task that he had only been compelled to accept in order not to arrive at Corvo Bianco empty handed.
As Scorpion fell into a powerful gallop, Eskel relaxed into the movement and his thoughts wandered off. A sensation of freedom pulsated through his veins and for a moment his doubts vanished.
 A few hours earlier…
 “Hey Master witcher, over here!”
A young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin waved in Eskel’s direction. His eyes were blown wide and his straightforwardness suggested an urgent matter. Eskel reigned in Scorpion, left the dusty path and took a halt next to the man.
“Master witcher, an evil spirit is roaming the woods.! Two days ago, one of our men was killed – I beg your help! We’re poor country folk, but we will pay!”
You better do, Eskel thought to himself. Although empty, his purse weighed heavy on his conscience. Arriving at Corvo Bianco without money would embarrassing – tolerable still - but heading for a winter at Kaer Morhen penniless would even be dangerous.
Eskel immediately recognized the hostile reactions when they entered a small woodworker’s settlement. Children were hushed and hastily dragged into their homes by their parents. Doors were hurriedly shut and if Eskel would have wanted to see, he would have noticed the people starring and pointing at him behind drawn curtains.
But he had no other choice. For weeks there weren’t any good contracts and a mysterious monster in the woods sounded like something profitable for once.
The young man led Eskel to the biggest hut of the settlement and a sturdy, yet bald man standing underneath the nearby oak tree suddenly stopped his wood carvings. Eskel noticed that the man’s left hand was missing a finger and his expression was anything but welcoming. He gave the younger man a sharp look and then turned to Eskel.
“Master witcher, how can I be of service?”, with a feigned smile he added, “I’m afraid but… we can’t offer children.”
Eskel, already used to this kind of reaction, sighed and looked him straight in the eye, making a dirty brown iris meet his shiny amber one.
“I was told there was a contract.”, he stated slowly, distinctly.
“I fear there must have been a mistake.”
Suddenly the door behind the man opened and a dangerously beautiful mage entered the place. She was dressed in luxurious fabrics and her long black hair nearly reached her waist. The two men bowed before her. But Eskel, weary of the hostile welcome, denied the courtesy.
“What do we have here?” she mockingly asked. “A mutant –created by the most senseless representatives of my guild. You’re a rarity these days, witcher.”
“With all due respect, your guild indeed comprises some senseless individuals, sorceress.”
“Witcher, you have a wicked tongue too. What a pleasure!”
She smiled slyly and gestured him to follow into the hut. He did, but with sharpened senses. Surprisingly the mage, as rude as she had appeared, was straight forward about the monster – beast to be more accurate - and sincerely promised Eskel a reasonable reward.
 But when Eskel returned to the woodworker’s settlement with his trophy his doubts returned as well. The village seemed abandoned. Nobody tried to hide and nobody pointed at him. Alarmed he scanned the few huts and carefully pushed Scorpion to move on. Something was wrong and he wasn’t eager to find out what or why.
At a twitch of his medallion Eskel tensed up. The vibration grew stronger while he neared the main hut, but as he was close enough, the sickness he had already felt once today returned. From the old oak tree hang the lifeless body of a young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin.
Anger welled up in the witcher’s chest. He tied Scorpion to the old tree and suppressed the need to let out a furious roar. Eskel soundlessly drew his sword – the steal one, as it befitted the monsters he was going to fight. But before he could come any closer, the door of the hut opened. The mage shielded by the poorly armed woodworkers emerged.
She gestured the men to let her through, but the moment she left their shielding ring Eskel’s blade touched her throat.
“One step closer and you’ll be next. What happened to him?”, he barked.
The mage laughed hysterically and answered “Sawyer? He brought a mutant to our village, the poor lad. In these parts people get killed for less.”
At this exact moment, she tried to conjure up a portal, but Eskel was faster. He stunned her hand and instead of a portal a wobbly structure appeared behind him. She screamed angrily and used the few seconds to pull a simple dagger from her boots. In the meantime, her ever so brave protectors advanced, coming for Eskel with raised axes and pitchforks. The witcher growled and parried the blows easily, but the distraction was enough. The mage leapt at him, missing his throat by the fraction of an inch. Eskel roared and suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger. He was a monster? A mutant? Well, then they should have their mutant!
Taking his left hand from the grip of his sword Eskel felt the tingle of magic flow through his hand. His powerful Igni struck the line of woodworkers and chaos broke loose. They screamed trying to shield their burned faces, dropping their weapons in order to stifle the fire on their cloths. The fire caught hold of the hut too and the less wounded men tried to keep it under control.
Meanwhile the mage had prepared to conjure up another portal. But Eskel wouldn’t let her go through with it. With a swift movement he left behind the inexperienced fighters and blocked the mage’s way.
“Go to hell, witcher!”, she gasped out as Eskel launched into an attack. But before his sword could come close to her again the bald man with the missing finger threw himself between them raising a rusty pitchfork. But the witcher’s sword pierced his lung and his last words drowned in a pained gurgling.
Hysterically laughing the mage cried out “A monster slayer! Look around you witcher –are these men monsters to you?”
“Why did you hang the boy?” he panted. He knew he wouldn’t have long until the shock of killing innocent people would settle in. He had to finish this quickly.
The mage’s insane laughter didn’t help. She managed to open the portal and just before she slipped away a precise blow separated her torso from her lower body.
In his rage Eskel turned around and roared. He grabbed the pitchfork of the dying man and went over to the old oak tree. He rammed the pitchfork into the earth just below the hanged man’s corpse. 
Scorpion whinnied and Eskel, still half in fight mode, took down the bear’s head from his horse’s saddle.
Wordlessly he impaled it on the pitchfork – leaving an unmistakable sign.
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purefrostbyte · 3 years
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Heavenly Bride
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BNHA Japanese God AU
Agyo!Bakugo
 Rating: Smut
Heavenly Bride
 The ash blonde was sat at his desk, looking through shitty paperwork and answering prayers. He had been stressed all day, and the fact everyone in the Heavenly Realm added onto it didn’t help his nerves. He was about to throw a tantrum at a poor palace guard when your voice filled his ears, the honey laced sound that instantly made him sit back down and listen to what you had to say. He remembers the first time he heard you, you had done nothing but ask him questions, sitting by his statue in the temple while you cleaned and polished it. At first he found you annoying, especially when you seemed to take a liking to talking to him every day. But as time went on and he heard more of your stories and questions, the ash blonde god found himself infatuated with you. The first time he saw you he had to physically stop himself from scooping you up and taking you with him back to the Heavenly Realm.
You were the most beautiful girl in your village, the villages pride and joy. You were kind and polite, though you definitely had a bit of an attitude. It only made Agyo fall harder for you. You often left offerings of red peppers, or on occasion when you could, a whole bowl of curry that the god would greedily scoff down before physically taking your plate back to you and leaving it in your room. The first time it happened you were shocked to see the bowl, thinking someone broke into your room to place it. But as time went on you started to realize the appearance of the bowl was a lot more heavenly then you could ever have thought. It was then he decided to plague your dreams, often finding ways to work you up and tease you to leave you hot and bothered in the morning.
He never directly told you who he was, but one look at him and you knew exactly who he was. He listen to your voice, guard long forgotten and fleeing in hope to not endure the wrath of the God of Overt Violence. Bakugo frowned when he heard you sniffle, and his fist clenched with the words you spoke. “Dear God Agyo. Help me please! My parents…they have betrothed me. I don’t wish to marry this man, word is he’s had 3 past wives who all vanished and…” you bit your lip as tears streamed down your face, sliding to your knees in front of his statue. Bakugo’s eyebrows furrowed, No! You couldn’t marry someone else, you were is goddamn it.
After your visit to the temple that night Bakugo didn’t hear from you. He had watched from above as you sat in you room, tears staining your beautiful kimono. It pained him to watch as something…someone, he had become attached to be filled with such sorrow and hatred. That was until one day, your fiancé had dared to raise a hand to you in public. Bakugo’s blood flowed hot with anger, and no amount of Heavenly Realm policy bullshit was gonna get in his way. The people of your village watched as a golden light flooded the street, gasping as a man appeared in the street. Unruly ash blonde spikes, a body of a god (Literally) with only a hakama hanging off his hips and those vermillion eyes that held nothing but anger for the man who had dared to strike you.
Your family gasped as Bakugo used his magic to send the man flying backwards, crashing through a brick wall that was surely going to leave a lot of damage to his body if not treated properly. The whole street bowed in respect to the God who had paid their village a visit, but Bakugo paid no mind to them as his rage continued to flare. He stepped forward, fully intending to beat the man to his last dying breath, but the feeling of your soft hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him. You family gaped from the sidelines, hissing for you to let go of the God and bow. Instead your eyes filled with tears and you hugged the Ash blonde god as you cried silently into his chest.
Bakugo held you close, glaring daggers at your family and in the direction of your now ex fiancé. “Listen here!” he yelled, voice booming with authority and power, “This is MY bride, and if any one of you ever lay a finger on her, you will find yourself in the deepest corners of hell. I’ll make bloody sure of it!” The village cowered in fear, shocked that their pride and joy was claimed by the god. He looked down at you, watching how your e/c eyes stared back at him in shock and happiness. He stroked your head before bending to whisper in your ear, “Let’s go home beautiful.” Your cheeks flushed as you nodded, taking his hand as he whisked you away from your village and your family.
You now stood in his study, gasping at the detail in the décor and how beautiful the whole place was. Bakugo wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him, breath tickling your neck in a way he knew drove you crazy. Your old kimono was now replaced, a beautiful white silk and satin kimono adorning your figure. You felt like a princess in it. Two large hands incased your hips and you were spun around to see your God. His vermillion eyes burnt holes into the bruise forming on your cheek and he wanted nothing more than to kill the man who had caused it.
Feeling his anger, you lifted one of his hands to cup your bruised cheek, nuzzling his palm affectionately as a sign that you were ok. “I should have killed him,” Bakugo voiced and you shook your head, voice coming out softly. “Death would be a mercy.” Bakugo let out a sigh of agreement and he watched as you nervously bit your lip, something you did when you had something to say but were afraid to say it. An action you only ever did with him.
“Talk to me beautiful, what’s on that mind of yours?” he rasped and you couldn’t help but crumble to his every want and need. “Did you mean it?” you whispered softly and Bakugo raised an eyebrow, “Did you mean it…when you said…that I’m-“ Bakugo let out a soft chuckle, “What? Did I mean it when I said that you’re my bride?” You let out a soft moan when he nipped at your ear and then dragged his tongue up your neck. “Every. Fucking. Word.” he growled and he enjoyed your content sigh when he pressed an open mouth kiss to your jugular.
You could feel your core dampen, he always had this affect on you. When he visited you in your dreams, he always left you wanting more and now was no different. Bakugo smirked against your neck, well aware of what he was doing. He wanted you needy, wanted you begging for him. He gently pushed you back against his desk, using magic to make all the unwanted things fly off so he could seat you on it. Your breathing hitched as Bakugo slotted in between your legs, hiking the skirt over your knees so he could grind against you. He smirked at you, that smirk that had your head spinning and knees buckling. He then moved his hips against yours and you threw your head back in pleasure. Bakugo’s grin turned feral and you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss.
He was surprised at first but quickly took charge and you happily opened up to allowed him to do what he wanted. He smirked into your mouth and snaked a hand down between your legs to rub circles against your clit. You pulled away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan loudly. Bakugo smirked, about to kneel down between your legs when you throw him off balance. He was now backed against the desk with you hurriedly undoing his hakama. You had sucked him off before, to be fair it had been a dream but technically you still had. Once he was rid of the article, you looked up at him with innocent eyes before sinking down to your knees. Bakugo couldn’t help but grin, finally having you here, like this, all for him. You wrapped your hands around his base and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan and thread his fingers through you c/h hair. You curled your tongue around his tip before taking it fully into your mouth and sucking. Bakugo growled and tuggged at your hair and you choked down the moan that blossomed in your throat, you didn’t want him to know you enjoyed that.
Bakugo noticed and he gripped the hair at the base of your skull and tugged harshly. The moan you produced was absolutely sinful. It sent delicious vibrations up his shaft and just as you decided to push him further down your throat, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. “Bakugo!” a voice called and Bakugo growled “Why now,” he groaned and he looks down at you. You were just about to pop off him when he grabbed you head and moved the both of you around the desk so that you were sat under it and in-between his legs. You look up at him and he simply smirked at you and put a finger to his lip. You nod and bit your lip as you heard the doors being thrown open.
“Dude! When were you gonna tell me you had a bride?!” You heard a cheery voice call as he entered the room. You took in a deep breath, nervous of being caught like this. “It wasn’t any of your damn business Shitty Hair! Now what do you want?” Bakugo snapped, fuck maybe he shouldn’t have placed you under the desk. Every breath you let out was directly on his member and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside you. You saw his member twitch, and you bit you lip as an idea popped into your head. It was risky and Bakugo could punish you because of it, but that thought only made you want to do it more.
You carefully shifted forward, mindful to not make any noise to alert the other God to of presence. You could just see Bakugo’s face from under the desk and you deliberately let out a breath on his tip. You watched Bakugo take a deep breath, eyes shifting down to look at you before looking back at the other god. “Dude,” the other God whined, “I wanna meet her! Come on, I wanna see what beautiful human captured your attention.” Bakugo hissed, not due to anger but due to you sinking fully down on him. ‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself, ‘Shitty Hair just fuck off!’
“You can…. You can fucking meet her at the wedding,” he snapped but the stutter alerted the other god. “Dude you good? You stuttered.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, fingers snaking down into your hair. “I’m fine Shitty Hair, but I got shit to do and you’re keeping me from it.” Kirishima smirked at Bakugo, “Oh? Is it planning the wedding, or claiming her as yours?” Bakugo growled and you couldn’t help but freeze. Did he know you were there? Bakugo gave your hair a small squeeze of reassurance. “Shitty Hair what happens in my bedroom is none of your fucking business. Can’t you go find your ‘little lion’ and leave me alone!?” Kirishima chuckled, “Alright dude! I’ll go, but I wanna meet her. And before the wedding!” Bakugo growled, “Fine.”
You waited for Kirishima’s steps to dissipate completely before popping your head out from under the desk. “Fuck,” he groaned and he looked down at you, “You sure are a little Kitsune aren’t you? Sucking me off with someone who could easily have caught you.” He moved his chair back and patted his lap and you happily obligated to sit down. “Ah,” he said, a smirk pulling at his face, “Kimono off.” Your face flushed but you obeyed, slowly undoing the ribbons that held it all together before letting it gracefully slip down your shoulders. Bakugo growled, licking his lips before beckoning for you to come and sit down on him.
You bit your lip as you began to straddle his legs, breath hitching when you feel his tip kiss the rim of your core. Bakugo placed a hand on your hip, “Relax Princess, let me take care of you.” He whispered and you relaxed and let him take the lead. He guided you down and you couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped you. When you were fully seated you lay your head on his shoulder, breathing deeply as you adjusted. Bakugo held you close, sucking the tender skin of your neck to distract you. His ears drunk in your quiet whines and soft moans, enjoying the way he sunk his teeth into you and sucked your skin in a possessive nature.
You bucked your hips experimentally and you moaned at the feeling of Bakugo’s tip just kissing you sweet spot. You took a deep breath, before lifting your hips up and dropping back down. Bakugo groaned at the way you squeezed him and you moaned at the feeling of being full. Bakugo slid his hand onto your ass and squeezed, starting to help you bounce up and down on him. “Baku,” you moaned, burying your head into the crook of his neck. Hearing you call him like that made everything in him spark. He picked you up and slammed you into the desk, thrusting hard and deep into you making you see stars. “Katsuki,” he rasped against the shell of your ear. “Huh?” you asked, words not forming due to the amount of pleasure you were in. “My name is Katsuki, and I want you to moan it so loud the whole Heavenly Realm can hear.”
He rammed into you, biting and sucking at your neck causing you to scream and wither in pleasure under him. “Katsu-….oh god Katsuki!” you moaned and Bakugo growled into your ear. “You gonna cum baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer due to how you squeezed him. “Cum for me,” he ordered and you obeyed like the obedient girl you were. You came around him, screaming his name and clamping down around him. Bakugo groaned and came after you, due to the way you squeezed around him.  “Fuck baby,” he groaned as he stopped moving. You were still panting, hair sticking to you due to sweat. “Come on baby,” he whispered picking you up, “I think you deserve a nap.”
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felassan · 3 years
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Dragon Age development insights from David Gaider - PART 3
This information came from DG on a recent SummerfallStudios Twitch stream where he gave developer commentary while Liam Esler continued playing DAO from where they had left off in Part 1 and Part 2. I transcribed it in case there’s anyone who can’t watch the stream (for example due to connection/tech limitations, data, time constraints, personal accessibility reasons, etc). A lot of it is centered on DAO, but there’s also insights into other parts of the franchise. Some of it is info which is known having been put out there in the past, and some of it is new. There’s a bit of overlap or repetition with topics covered in Parts 1 and 2. This post leaps from topic to topic as it’s a transcript of a conversational format. It’s under a cut due to length.
The stream can currently be watched back here. Next week LE will be streaming a different DAO playthrough with commentary from another guest. Two weeks from now LE and DG will return to continue this playthrough for another stream session like this one.
(Part 4, Part 5, Part 6)
[wording and opinions DG’s, occasionally LE’s; paraphrased]
The Battle of Ostagar cutscene is one of the first big cutscenes that got made during production. When it was shown to the team for the first time, it was one of those moments where DG felt like “Awesome, this is a game!” Context: During the development of a game it feels more like doing a series of disconnected tasks and assets rather than working on a game, so seeing stuff come together at times like this is rad. The first time it was shown, it had temporary placeholder voiceacting.
Pathfinding is always a nightmare to do, especially in games which involve a party of NPCs. As soon as other characters are involved alongside the PC, it’s exponentially more difficult and takes up a lot more resources. The PC is the most complex thing going on visually on-screen, with so many moving pieces, and in party-based games you have four [etc] of them. So, some critique that’s made of the DA games in regards to this subject which compares it to games like The Witcher doesn’t really make sense, as The Witcher has a solo PC.
‘Weird mage hats’ didn’t really become a trademark ‘DA thing’ akin to their place of random pieces of cheese around the world until later games. For DAO, someone probably asked the artists to create “mage helmets”. Mage hats actually looked better in the concept art than they did in-game. What happened was that they were already modelled and then they didn’t have time to re-do them.
DAO was made for PC first. The plan from the get-go though was that it would be an all-platform release (PC/360/PS3). Games like these are always made for the “lowest common denominator” from among the various platforms that they’re being planned to release for. Games have to be made for the most stringent/basic of the platforms because this makes for less conversion rate. At the time of DAO’s development, the PS3 was getting weak graphically and getting old, and this was quite a limitation: “Why do we have to limit [crowds?] because of this one platform?” “Well, we just gotta”. The original models were a bit too detailed. Later on, the artists started making models that had lower polycounts that they could put in a bit more of. DA was never really focused on making environments realistic in an ambient manner (making environments less “gamey” and more lived in, like having crowded places). They could have put more emphasis there but this would have led to a resources issue. Ambience basically wasn’t a high priority. As a writer DG isn’t keen on this decision and naturally he wanted the world to look more realistic, but he noted that it’s easy for him to say this when this would be work that he didn’t have to do personally.
During DAO development, they might have just had a dev sphere originally that was called “tech design”. DG thinks this was later broken up into systems design, combat design and maybe level design. Level designers are the people that are the implementers of the plot. Narrative design is a branch of the level design spoke. System designers respond to requests from lead designers. Narrative designers and writers don’t interact with system designers much unless they have to. As an example of interaction here, system designers might come to writers and say, “Alright, so we’re doing combat, what are the sorts of things a mage can do in this world?” The writers would be like “Ok, these are the sorts of spells we imagined.” The system designers might then come back with “Ok, that fulfills 2 of the 10 things we need mages to be able to do in combat. Is it possible that mages could do [this]?” Sometimes it is, and other times it would be like “No, that’s really outside of the lore”. Still, sometimes said original-lore-breaking things would be added to the game a week later due to necessity and DG would be like “Oh ok”. This kind of stuff is an insight into how some aspects of the lore came to be or changed over time during development.
The system designers on DAO got a better idea of what could be done and what could not be done according to the lore as things went on. At first, DG had to keep telling them things like “It’s not that big a deal, but in the lore mages can’t teleport. Instant teleportation isn’t possible in the world”. The system designers needed a spell where someone could get from spot A to spot B really fast on the battlefield. DG said that that’s fine in itself, “have them turn into a cloud of bees or have a light that moves between the two places. We can use magic as a transition or as a speed thing, but what is against the lore is instant teleportation, to traverse distance like that”. At first the system designers weren’t on board with it, but they got on board with it later. 
This sort of thing doesn’t just depend on the system designers. It also depends on what the tech artists are willing to do. Sometimes a certain request made of them was too hard and they said they weren’t able to do it. Other times it was a matter of DG not communicating the request properly, or the tech artists had already done the work and so throwing out all their work to re-do it just because he didn’t communicate clearly wouldn’t have been cool. So sometimes the originally planned lore got contravened, and sometimes things other parts of the team implemented in the game became the new lore.
LE made an insightful observation at this point: You can’t think of game development as a cohesive series of decisions that everyone on the team is involved in. This simple isn’t how it works at all, especially on large complex projects. There are processes at some studios for decision-making, but most of the time, a bunch of decisions get made by system designers. Others get made by level designers, still others by narrative designers. Situations then arise where someone notices a certain decision and that that decision and another one contradict each other. This is where conflict arises and a solution has to be negotiated. This is why often in games we get elements in the end product that are dissonant, because it was discovered too late or by the time it was realized, it was too difficult to change. It’s actually a miracle that on a game of DAO’s depth and scope that all these things largely hold together. [My note: With this insight and the context below on documentation, it makes sense how BW sometimes appear to ‘forget aspects of their own lore’ or end up contradicting parts of the lore in different parts of the franchise]
Sometimes such things would be noticed in time and DG would go and say, “Can we not do that or do something else instead?” and the relevant parties would be totally accommodating and do it (depending on how much time they had or how much time it would take to remedy). Sometimes this worked out and sometimes it didn’t. For the most part, everyone wants to work together. DG couldn’t be involved in every aspect of systems design “like some kind of All-Watchful eye of lore”, so he had to rely on the people who were there knowing enough from the documentation. Not everybody reads every document however. There was so much documentation even back during DAO. DG can only imagine the sheer amount of world/lore documentation that now exists now in the run-up to DA4; he said he thinks that nobody at this point on the current team has read it all, as editor/lore-wrangler Ben Gelinas isn’t with BW anymore. Lots of legacy documentation accumulated very quickly. Sometimes, the old document would still be there. Over time it became harder for people to discern which was the most recent version of a particular document. Sometimes people didn’t update the relevant documentation after changing things. Lore documentation was particularly bad for this issue. BG wrangled all the documentation and created an internal reference wiki (essentially acting as a lorekeeper). He was constantly coming in and picking DG’s brain to clarify conflicting aspects or obtain the correct, in-date information etc (“Good on him”).
DAO was the first time DG was involved in voice-recording. Prior to that he was only on the receiving end, in that the recordings would come in and he’d review them as they did so. DAO is when BW set up their own VO department and where Caroline Livingstone came on. CL wanted DG and Mike Laidlaw to be more involved in the casting process. As a result, the writers then were to write casting scripts: like, ‘For Morrigan, can you write a 1 page script that goes through 3 big emotions? [like regular talking for a bit, then here’s a bit of heightened emotion such as anger, then here’s a part where they’re being funny if they were a comedic character] These scripts had to be kept short so that the recording that was made from it wouldn’t be more than 30-40 seconds in length.
For the initial VA sessions, DG and CL flew down to Technicolor studioin LA and they had all the major castmembers there (later on, recording sessions were done a lot more remotely; this became easier as BW’s setup got more sophisticated). The idea was that they would both be present live in-person for the first 2 or 3 sessions to help each VA find their ‘voice’, and for DG at the first session to sit down with each VA and walk them through who their character was, what DA was about, and help them figure out how their character should talk. Claudia Black was the first of these sessions and he was “a wreck” going into that one. It got easier after that however. CL gave directions into the soundproof booth and DG was present to give notes on things like pronunciation or the intentions behind some lines. He says he learned everything he now knows about VO direction from CL. The things and tricks CL can do to get a performance out of an actor are amazing. Sometimes an actor would get a bit fixated or stuck on a particular way of delivering a line. CL had atrick to help them past this; “I want you to clear your mind, and I want you to give me a version of this line that’s more yellow”. The idea is that they just had to break out of where they had been stuck in that mindset, and the thing was that it doesn’t matter what “yellow” meant, but what was important was what “yellow” meant to the actor. They could then take that new varied delivery and progress from there.
Alistair’s dialogue when the PC talks to Flemeth outside her hut was the first complex conversation DG wrote for DAO. It was the first one that had a lot of branching and fiddling to it. The hardest conversations to write are the ones with a lot of exposition, and when they do have exposition still making this interesting and natural. At this point in the game, the player has no agency, just reactivity. The devs talked a lot about this subject when they wrote the origin stories. Some of the stories allow the player to initially say no and refuse to join the Wardens, but you always end up being railroaded (the devs here ended up doing a form of the trope ‘But Thou Must!’). Do you give the player the option to say no? Is it important to allow them that option? At some point, writers have to accept that the player has some level of buy-in and is game to play. They discussed a lot where they sat on this and what is agency. “Maybe don’t worry about offering the player every possible choice, but about having reactivity.”
Loghain wasn’t okay with letting Cailan die. He didn’t sit and angst about it openly where the player could see, and once the decision had been made, it being Loghain, it was Made and Had To Be Done (he felt that it was something that had to happen). But he didn’t kill the son of the woman he’d once loved dearly as a random off-handed thing.
The Solas twist was planned from the beginning, from the DAO dev days. Such big things/broad strokes have stayed the same. However, some of the details have changed or been added along the way. They didn’t know for instance that Solas was going to be a companion; that was something they came up with when they were planning DAI. Flemeth’s true identity has never changed.
Zevran says Rinna was an elf, but WoT says she was a bastard child of a noble in line for the Antivan throne (the Antivan royal family being human). When asked if this was an oversight, DG said yes she was a bastard, but she may have been really far down the line of succession, i.e. technically in line, but would probably never have been allowed to take the throne in practise had that scenario ever actually arisen.
DA was maybe inspired a bit/some by ASOIAF. This was way before it was on TV of course. DG at the time had read the first book or so. He liked the fact that it was a fantasy setting but low-magic, and was about the people in the world and their politics rather than magic, prophecy and other high fantasy stuff.
It was only by DAI that the system designers decided that it was okay to think of banter as an “activity that players engaged in”. In previous games, the devs had inadvertently managed to ‘train’ players to immediately stop when companion banter fires so that they could hear it all (because if you do something else, it gets cut off). When the level designers put together the spaces, they accounted for what players would be doing i.e. how much time between combat. They didn’t however account for like “You’re travelling down this hall and there’s a banter for half of that space. This is an activity, so it’s okay not to put anything in there”. This is how the inadvertent training happened, when originally banters were supposed to be a thing that ran as you move around the world (as opposed to stopping and standing still). 
When asked if the Blight resulted from the creation of the Veil or pre-dates it: “I think you’ll probably have to wait on the game[s] for that answer, if it ever explains it”. He was also asked whether Arlathan is the Golden City. He won’t answer such questions naturally because they are “DeepLooooooore™~~ ♫”.
DG isn’t sure that he will play DA4 when it comes out. It’s not that PW and the team won’t do a good job, they will, it’s just that when DG plays RPGs he has an analytical mindset going on and finds it difficult to slip into the game and just enjoy. For DA4, as he was previously so involved in DA, there’ll naturally probably be an extra level of that with feeling like “What would I have done [for particular parts of the game’s design]?”. Alternatively he might instead feel like “Wow, this is awesome, here’s a game I would have made but didn’t have to do any work on!” DG stressed that it’s important to him to be fair about the work of his former colleagues - he wouldn’t want to come out and be like “I wouldn’t have made [this or that] choice”. He also noted that just because something might be a call he personally wouldn’t have implemented in the game, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad call. There are people out there where if DG intimated at all that there was an aspect of DA4 that he wasn’t keen on, he’s worried that they would pounce on it and use it as ammunition against the current team (who are his friends that he really cares about and wants to do well). He walked away from DA voluntarily and is happy his game will continue on. PW popped by in chat at this point and agreed that it’s definitely hard to play something that you used to work on.
Other assorted tidbits:
DG really opposed the part at the Battle of Ostagar where mabari are set to charge the darkspawn horde -��“That’s not how you would use dogs [in war]”
There was supposed to be a cutscene where Flemeth rescues the HoF and Alistair from the top of the Tower of Ishal in her dragon-form. This was cut. DG remembered being angry about this like “nobody is gonna buy that you fall unconscious and then wake up in the hut totally rescued. [...] I guess I’m not always right”
When DG went to Beamdog there was a period where they thought about making a Baldur’s Gate 3. They put together a pitch and had a long series of discussions contemplating things like “What do we need from BG3? What do we expect it to have in order to have the BG name? What is needed and not needed to connect to from the previous games?”
DG isn’t sure who designed the DAO inventory system
PW in chat recalled a game writer from another company who was really ragging on DAI on the Christmas Day after release
Narrative designer and system designer are very different positions/roles with very different responsibilities
Simon Templeton as Loghain did all his voicework stuff in one take, which was very impressive
It would have been the marketing department that chose 30 Seconds To Mars for music. DA was really good at choosing up-and-coming acts for this that weren’t huge when they used their songs, but became huge afterwards
During work on Baldur’s Gate 2 was the most DG has ever crunched. He slept in the office a few times
“As soon as you get both Alistair and Morrigan in the party, that’s when it’s like ahh yes, this is a BioWare game”
Were Flemeth and Morrigan’s interactions with each other and the PC when Morrigan is being told to leave the Wilds and go with the Hero an act, considering that Morrigan did know about the OGB plan? No. That was The Plan, but said plan wasn’t like “Ok, she’s going to leave Right Now”
The elves and the inversion of the traditional elven trope are DG’s favorite part of the world/world-building
One of the original intentions for DAO was to make it so that the player wouldn’t need a healer in the party, or that there would be different kinds of healing, or that healing itself wouldn’t be a thing, but this just didn’t work out
The Imperial Highway used to be a really important part of the lore but it kind of got forgotten a bit
It’s kinda funny that after release some players expressed that Corinne Kempa’s accent as Leliana was “sooo fake”. It’s not fake, she’s actually a Brit that moved to France when she was young, so she has the exact type of accent that Leliana would have (Leliana was born in Orlais and is culturally Orlesian, but her mother was Fereldan and she considers herself as such)
They talked some about the need for documentation and how doing this can feel beurocratic and uncreative and how like you’re not working on a game or writing. PW in chat expressed that there was a year where they spent a lot of it working in PowerPoint and Excel, “so I feel this”
When they switched art directors to Matt Goldman, his first big complaint was about all the brown. He came to DG like “Is there a lore reason for or are you particularly in favor of the brown for story reasons?” DG was like “Uhh no” and Matt was then like “Ok good”
Console codes/commands aren’t usually stripped out of a game before release, they are usually still in the built, just disabled. The system itself is not removed but how to access said system is
BW doesn’t crunch as bad as we hear some companies do, and kind of prided itself on “not being terrible at crunch”. But BW’s “not terrible at crunch” is still crunch. We obviously don’t commend abusive family members for only abusing people on certain days of the week or whatever
Kate Mulgrew is American but she at times did the same thing a lot of the British VAs did, which was that the devs had a lot of struggle with getting them to say “darkspawn” correctly, with the emphasis in the right places. They’d say “dark SPAWN” as if it was two words with an adjective, and the stress put in the wrong place
Lack of children in DAI was a resources thing. They only had time to make a certain number of models. There was a series of meetings where they had to decide what things to cut. In the last meeting it was like ‘Here’s a bunch of things you don’t want to cut, we need to cut 4 of them’
They decided to put horned qunari back in DA2 because then they had the resources to do so. They then ended up having to explain why there were hornless qunari at the same time, and make this an in-world explanation as opposed to just ‘We didn’t have the resources, that was totally intentional’
Lots of players missed out on recruiting Leliana and/or Sten on their first playthrough and didn’t even know they existed/could be recruited. “Apparently we weren’t that great at pointing players in the right direction”
Tevinter is inspired by the Byzantine Empire (which wasn’t called that at the time incidentally, this is a name given by historians after the fact), what used to be the Roman Empire after the western part fell. This is the era Tevinter today is meant to encapsulate: decadent but clearly in decline, far away from the heyday and the heights of the former empire [source]
[Part 1]
[Part 2]
[Part 4]
[Part 5]
[Part 6]
[‘Insights into DA dev from the Gamers For Groceries stream’ transcript]
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feliix · 4 years
Text
Peachy ✦ KSJ (18+)
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✦  Pairing: Seokjin x Reader ✦ Word count: 1.6k ✦  Rating: M  
✦  Genre: smut, crack(ish), FWB!au
✦  Summary: Daily hookups with Jin had become the new norm, but what he has in store for tonight is nothing like what you’re used to
✦  Warnings: explicit smut, oral (male receiving), peach rings but used as sex toys (idk man I was going through it), dirty talk, cum swallowing, food play
✦ Requested by my love @ppersonna​ “JIN + COCKTAIL MAYHAPS?????? uwu”
✦  A/N: Honestly I don’t have anything else to say but I’m sorry. But this is the second fic I’ve posted today so were back baby! Tagging @miamorjoon​ @hobiance​ and @luxekook​ because for some reason they wanted this. unedited because I’m lazy ✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​ 
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It worked like clockwork. Every night, 8pm on the dot, Jin would text you. Your text exchanges always went the same way. Each one of them beginning and ending with the same two messages.
Jin: 🍆 🤔 You: Front door is unlocked
The first time you hooked up with Jin you were not expecting for it to become a regular thing, but here you were, 6 weeks later with a regularly set sex schedule.
It started from just one date. One night of Netflix and chill turned into two, and then three, and now you had a friend with benefits. Not that you were complaining, Jin was the best you had ever had, and relationships weren’t exactly your thing so this was the absolute best it could get.
With a light tap on your front door and the click of your doorknob turning, you know he’s finally arrived. It was past 9:30 pm now, so he was running a bit behind schedule tonight. Yeah, you were slightly annoyed, but that's okay, all would be forgiven in due time.
“Y/N?” Jin calls, footsteps making their way up the steps preceding his voice, “I’m here!”
“Up here!” You yell back, but he already knew that. He knows the drill. Meet you in your bedroom at the top of the stairs to the right, but make sure to lock the front door first.
One knuckle taps on your doorframe to alert you of his presence. You almost don’t bother to look up from the screen of your phone, used to this daily routine and a little annoyed that he took so long tonight. You had sprayed perfume almost an hour ago now and it was beginning to wear, as was your mood.
“You’re late tonight,” you quirk your brow in question, noticing the shopping bag he holds in his hand, “What's that?”
“I stopped on my way to pick something up.”
Pacing over to you, he joins you on the bed, opening the paper bag and flipping it over to dump the contents on the bed.
“Condoms,” he holds up the box of trojans, the only name brand for the boujie boy he is.
“Snacks,” you say as you grab the bag of peach ring jellies, threatening to rip it open before he snatches it back from your hands. You shoot him a glare in response, but the smirk on his face shows no remorse.
“Just wait.”
“Wait?”
You’re genuinely confused now, watching him shift on the bed as he stands up to begin undressing. There didn’t need to be a hot and heavy clothes-being-ripped-off, make out session before you got down to business – it would all lead to the same place anyway.
“Well what are they for?”
“You’ll see.” A devilish is spread wide across Jin’s face. Your sex life definitely wasn't what most considered ‘vanilla,’ but something about these jelly rings said things were gonna get a little bit more frisky tonight.
As his pants leave his body you can tell he’s already semi hard. You swear this man’s boner never goes away, he’s definitely horny all the time. Not that you were complaining, you’ve been dripping as soon as you got the eggplant text.
Spinning on his heels your eyes meet his back, shamelessly traveling down to the swell of his ass. It was right there, you couldn’t help it. You can't see what he’s doing, but when you hear the bag of jellies being ripped open
You have no more energy to question what he was doing at this point, your eyebrow does raise as you hear him let out a small whimper and he fumbles with the bag. He keeps looking behind himself to make sure you can't see, locking eyes with your questioning stare and only grinning in response.
“Okay ready,” he says turning around with his hands on his hips. Your gaze immediately focuses on his cock, adorned with three jelly rings, stretched to the brim and wrapped around his shaft.
Jaw dropping in astonishment, you stare at his erect member, his face smug in response to your reaction. “You want me to…suck them off your dick?”
“Exactly.”
Your head tilts to the side as you admire Jin’s form – standing with his legs wide to show off his manhood, standing upright and embellished with the peach candies. No words come to your mind as a response, your mind is completely blank. So you decide to just shrug your shoulders in response
“They are kind of squeezing me, but no rush,” he laughs in an attempt to break the awkward silence that has formed. It's not your fault you’ve never seen a candy coated cock before.
“Right,” you scoot towards the edge of the bed to hop off, getting on your knees in front of him.  Your gaze hasn't left his candy garnished cock since you’ve first laid eyes on it. The way the jellies squeeze it so gently, the ridges forming between them on the shaft. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about riding him with them on, dying for some extra friction in your walls. Maybe another time…
Slowly, you wrap your mouth around the tip, your lips brushing against the first jelly in line.  It's sweet, the sugar garnish melting deliciously as it meets your mouth. The sugar coats your tongue as you extend it outwards, placing small kitten licks over the ridge between the first two jellies.
You sigh a moan of approval at the sweet taste, wrapping your lips fully around the first candy and hollowing your cheeks. It comes off easier than you had expected it to, sliding off from the lubrication of your saliva over his head. Jin lets out a steep moan throwing his head back as curses leave his lips.
“First one done,” you smirk as you look up at him through your eyelashes, chewing your accomplishment (sweetly). Small strands of his hair are stuck to the sides of his face, framing his lustful eyes as sweat gathers at his brow. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, swallowing thickly to choke back the flood of moans threatening to leave his lips.
You tongue at his cock again, dragging it along his entire length to coat it in your saliva. The salty taste of his precum mixes with the peach flavor as you reach his tip. The mixture satisfies your taste buds as you lick up the remnants of his leaking tip.
“Fuck, keep going,” Jin groans, head falling back as his eyes screw shut, basking in the bliss you were giving him, “feels so good.”
You take his compliment as a sign to move forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sliding them down the shaft to the next jelly. Your tongue grazes over each ridge of his cock, gliding over each vein and massaging them gently.
From the sounds leaving Jin’s mouth you can tell he was enjoying himself. His hands swiftly find their way into your hair, gripping it at the roots and tugging at your scalp. He wasn't being pushy, though. Just needed something to grip onto in order to keep himself together for a little while longer.
The second jelly has already begun dissolving from the repetitive movement of your tongue over it. It slid off just as easily as the first, breaking in half as it reached the ridge between his shaft and his head. You chew and swallow it triumphantly, leaving his dick to twitch in anticipation as he’s left with no stimulation.
“Last one,” you smile as you take his head in your mouth one more time, licking at the precum gathering at his tip before sliding your mouth down his shaft. The last jelly is placed at the base of his cock, squeezing him harder than the rest. The candy was stretched to its limits, creating an indent on his cock. The challenge of getting this one off enticed you, and you knew Jin would enjoy the feel of you deep throating him to get it off.
You sunk your head down all the way, hollowing out your cheeks and relaxing to take all of him in. His cock spasms on your tongue as you reach his base, flicking your tongue over the candy trying to get it off. This one was on there good, and it wouldn't be as easy as the last two.
In a split second you decide to pull back your lips, biting down gently on the jelly to get a better grip.
“Ow, fuck!” Jin yells, his thighs tightening under your grip as your teeth graze his member. Your smug with his reaction, giggle slightly as you move your lips back to take hold of the jelly. But it wasn’t over just yet.
Bobbing your head up and down you suction the peach candy against your lips, using it as a guide as you massage his cock with your tongue. Jin’s cock throbs in response – you know that he’s close.
For added stimulation you remove your grip from one of his thighs to grope his balls, something you know always sends him over the edge. And before you know it white hot spurts are landing on your tongue. His hand grips your hair as his face morphs in bliss, a muted croak echoing from his throat as he keens into your touch.
Once he’s finished you pull away for the last time, chewing the peach ring as your reward and swallowing it with his cum. He’s out of breath, panting as his hands hold onto your shoulders as he recovers from his high.
“How do you feel?” You ask as you look up at his euphoric expression. Small beads of sweat are dripping down the sides of his face and running down his neck, glistening from the dim light of the TV illuminating the room.
“Just peachy.”
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‘Peachy’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost or translate on any platform.
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309 notes · View notes
etherrealoblivion · 4 years
Text
Chapter Four: Supper
Table Of Contents
Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Words: 1,748
MASTERLIST
~
A sudden loud beep had you shooting upright in bed. You leapt up and put your ear to the door. Rather than sinister noises, you heard the faint humming of a very familiar theme song.
You cracked open the bedroom door, peeking into the kitchen where Spencer was bustling around with a frying pan and a spatula with a focused expression on his face, humming the theme music to Doctor Who under his breath.
It was actually kind of adorable. You pushed open the bedroom door further to get a better look, but the door creaked and Spencer spun around, withdrawing his gun and pointing it square in your face.
“I’m sorry!” you squealed, throwing your hands up in surrender.
He quickly holstered his gun and ran over to you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” you tried to laugh. “A little shaken but I’m okay. Really!” you added after a doubtful look from him.
His eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to peer into your soul. His hands felt good on your shoulders, clutching you tightly in comfort. It had been a while since you’d had, well, any physical contact. He was so tall he had to lean down to level his face with yours.
Suddenly, he seemed to realize how close the two of you were and stepped back, clearing his throat. 
“I was, uh, trying to make dinner.”
“I can see that,” you said playfully, with a glance at the kitchen in disarray.
“Yeah. I’m not the best cook. I can memorize thousands of recipes in minutes but i’ve never seemed to master the execution.”
You hesitated. 
“Thousands of recipes in minutes? What are you a genius?” you laughed.
“Scientifically, yes. An I.Q. score over 160 classifies someone as a genius.”
Your jaw dropped.
“You’re kidding?”
He shook his head, slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging.
“Nope.”
“Wait so you can read like, a thousand words per minute?”
“Twenty-thousand,” he corrected, stepping back into the kitchen to continue cooking.
“Twenty-thousand!? That’s impossible!”
“Actually, the unconscious brain can process up to eleven million bits of information per second. It’s just a matter of being able to—“
“—to access the information from your subconscious,” you said, cutting him off. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
He looked at you in shock.
“What’s even more impressive is that you finished a sentence for me.”
“Sorry,” you blushed.
“No! No, I mean, not a lot of people can, erm, keep up. When you start college at fourteen, not many people expect you to be smarter than them. Then when they find out how smart you really are, it can be intimidating.”
Your mouth twitched up into a smile. Spencer was impressive, for sure, but he was also entertaining. Not in a make-fun-of kind of way, but he made you laugh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 
“Supper’s ready!”
You stifled a laugh.
“Supper?”
“What?” he looked over at you, reaching up to get two plates.
“Who says supper? Are you eighty?” you teased. 
“I’m twenty-six!” he said indignantly.
You froze.
“Wait, really?” He nodded. “You’re only twenty-six and you’re a prominent FBI agent? How?”
“Genius I.Q, three Ph.D.’s, and my irresistible charm,” he said, giving a goofy smile.
“Three PhDs? How? I’m getting a PhD and I can barely keep up with the workload!”
“You‘re getting a Ph.D.? That wasn’t in your police report. What’s it in?” he asked as he filled your plates. 
“Actually, I’m working on two.”
“Two!?”
You nodded, happy that you’d been able to shock him.
“Yep. Linguistics and Philosophy. I like Philosophy better but Linguistics is more challenging. The library won't let you into the section with the really good language books without a certain clearance. But I've actually nearly finished my thesis for it. What?” you added, noticing him staring at you.
“You’re working on two doctorates simultaneously?”
“Surprised you’re not the only genius?” you joked, taking your plate from him, then, upon seeing what he’d made, bursting out into laughter. 
“What?” he looked genuinely confused, which only made you laugh harder.
“Bacon?” you said through gasps. “Bacon and pancakes? You are aware it’s—“ you glanced at the clock, “—nine forty at night?”
“Gimme a break!” he said defensively. “It’s the only thing I can cook. The word ‘cook‘ being a generous descriptor.” 
It was better than Doritos and bourbon for dinner, your go to meal. You were just glad you’d had the stuff to make dinner. It would be very awkward trying to explain your unhealthy eating habits to Spencer.
You didn’t have a dining table. Anyway, you usually ate on the couch and watched something on TV. That was normal nowadays right? Whatever. Spencer didn’t seem to mind which was good enough for you.
“So, um,” he said nervously, pulling out a pad of paper and pencil. “There’s a few things I need to go over with you.”
You nodded, remembering the situation you were in.
“Is there anyone you can think of who might have shown a sort of stalking behavior before? They’d be unreliable, constantly late, not being able to stick to a schedule?”
“The only person I know like that is Claire, one of my co-workers, but she’s not a stalker, she's just always late to work. Honestly, the only people I really know are my co-workers, some people from school, and Steve, my friend.”
“The FBI is going to need a list of people you see frequently. If you could put that together as soon as you’re ready. Also, all your credit card information will have to be analyzed, everywhere it’s been used. Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—”
“Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee. Then again, there’s the occasional splurge at the mall.”
“Well, the FBI needs all of it.”
You nodded softly, staring at the bacon on your plate. He hadn’t said I need he’d said The FBI needs. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly.
“Do you want to watch something?” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “It might be a good distraction?”
“Yeah,” you put your plate on the coffee table, noticing that you’d barely eaten. “Yeah that sounds good. Could you just put something on? I don’t wanna choose.”
He nodded and picked up the remote.
The only thing he really knew you liked was Doctor Who so he put on a random episode. You let the TV become background noise to your thoughts as you stared off into space.
Spencer was comforting to be around. He helped take your mind off the situation you were in. You looked over at him on the couch, long legs crossed under him. He had taken off his tie and shoes and changed into more casual clothes: a jumper and some jeans. He was absentmindedly fiddling with the throw blanket between you on the couch. 
His hands are so long, you thought. Wait, why were you thinking that? You shouldn’t be thinking about his hands. Or how long they were. Or what they could—
“Are you alright?”
You felt yourself twitch, startled by his sudden acknowledgment. Even more embarrassing, you were sure he’d seen you staring at his hands.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Hey,” he moved closer on the couch, “you don’t have to be sorry. It’s alright to not be okay.”
They were just words, they didn’t help. What did help was the care behind them. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he actually meant it. To him, it really was ok to not be okay.
“Thank you Spencer, that actually helps.”
You glanced at the clock. It was 10:26.
“I should do some schoolwork,” you said, cringing afterward. You didn’t want him to think of you as some school kid.
“Okay!” he chirped happily, standing as you stood like a proper gentleman. “I’ll just be out here. Is it okay if I keep watching?” The episode played on, The Doctor dangling from a rope above London. “I really like this episode,” he said sheepishly.
“Sure,” you chuckled. “I’ll be in my room and please let me know if you need anything, seriously.”
He nodded assent, but you weren’t sure if he actually would. He seemed a little withdrawn, comforting you when you needed but keeping his distance when possible. It’s his job to keep you safe, you reminded yourself. Don’t get excited.
An hour later your eyes watered from the strain of keeping them open. But you were almost done with this paper. Sure, it was due next week but you were on a roll. Using an allusion to the Holocaust to support the point that Hollywood writing is riddled with antisemitism. In the morning, it might not sound as clever, but to your sleep-deprived brain, it was poetry.
A light knock on your door startled you.
“Come in,” you croaked.
Spencer peeked into your room, squinting.
“It’s pitch black in here,” he said, reaching for the light.
You shrieked as the light filled the room, blinding you.
“TOO BRIGHT!” you yelled, slamming your computer shut and throwing your arms over your eyes.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he fumbled with the switch and clicked it off. The room was now shrouded in darkness, neither of you able to see yet.
“Are you there, Spencer?”
“Yeah.”
You were both whispering. Why was it that people whispered in the dark? 
“You should try and get some sleep,” Spencer said. He was becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. He had changed into a blue set of pajamas. The fabric looked so soft.
“Yeah,” you muttered, moving toward the bed, “Yeah, I’ll do that.” 
Your bed felt scratchy and cold. Just last night getting in bed had been such a relaxing experience. So much had changed in a day.
“I’ll be right in the next room if you need anything,” 
“Hmm,” you hummed.
Spencer padded back out of your room.
The moment before the door closed you thought you heard a very faint, “Good night, Y/N.” But before you could wonder if it had happened or not, you were dropping off into a deep sleep. Knowing that you were safe with Spencer in the next room.
~
Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13
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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years
Text
Sink Or Swim
tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123 @xiaomailab
The following clip contains mentions of mental illness and suicide attempt (near the end — when Lucas starts talking about his mother). Feel free to skip that section and message me for a brief description.
~^~
Friday, 19:41
Songs: Haux - Something To Remember; SG Lewis - Warm
Jens’s hands shake as he unlocks the door, nudging it open quietly with Lucas close at his back. He steps into the dark hallway and flicks on the light, dropping his keys on the small table as Lucas shuts the door behind them. Jens wills himself to relax, reminds himself that they’re alone as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the hook and allows Lucas to do the same.
“What did you say your parents are doing?”
“They’re having a date night for their anniversary, booked a hotel room. Lotte’s staying at her friend’s house.”
Lucas hums, tugs Jens around to face him and slides his arms around his waist. “So we’re alone, and you can chill.”
Jens drops his head onto his shoulder and nods, pressing a kiss to the crook of Lucas’s neck. He reaches behind himself to take Lucas’s hands and then leads him into the house. Jens plans to take him on a short tour, but they get interrupted at the first stop. Ace slinks out through the doorway to the sitting room and immediately winds himself through Jens’s legs, gazing up at Lucas warily.
“You have a cat?” Lucas asks, grinning down at the furball.
“Yeah, and he can be kinda bitchy, so I’d hold off on becoming a fan.”
As Jens says it, Ace butts his head against Lucas’s leg. Lucas raises his brows, grinning widely as Ace wraps around his feet. He leans down to scratch behind the cat’s ears and earns himself a purr as Ace rubs his head against his palm.
Jens watches the interaction with a glowing heart. It had been a spur of the moment decision, when Jens had asked him to come over. He hadn’t allowed himself to overthink, but had just jumped at the opportunity. He can’t remember the last time he has had the house to himself, but it certainly wasn’t within the space of time in which he’s known Lucas. Jens had only managed to spend the two nights so far with Lucas due to pure luck. Lucas had snuck him in the first time, and then his father had been working an evening and morning shift the second. They have never got to spend a full night truly alone, just to themselves, and that’s what Jens wants. His body thrums with the need for it even now, having ratcheted up a few notches since last Friday.
It’s almost unbearable, how much he just wants Lucas’s hands on him. It’s definitely embarrassing.
He may also be hoping to coax Lucas into opening up a little. Lucas has been a little quiet the past few days, thoughtful. He keeps turning to Jens as if he wants to say something and then stopping with a smile, offering him a kiss instead. Jens doesn’t mind the added affection in the slightest, even while being teased by his friends, even while wondering why it doesn’t freak him out. Lucas touches him and everything else seems to go still. That doesn’t worry him.
But there are other questions that still cause him concern, and he’s waiting and waiting for Lucas to provide the answers. He’s desperately reminding himself to be patient, to be trusting, but it’s difficult. It’s harder when he fears the faith isn’t being returned.
It’s familiar.
“You were so cute,” Lucas marvels, snapping Jens out of his daze. He’d wandered into the sitting room on his own and now stands admiring the photo frames on the mantle. His mouth stretches into a grin, taking in various images of Jens at different ages, none of them all that flattering.
“Come on, I didn’t bring you here so you could tease me,” Jens protests.
Lucas turns to him and raises a brow, smirking. “I thought that’s exactly why you brought me here.”
Jens flushes, but doesn’t deny it.
Lucas walks back to him, laughing quietly. “I’m not teasing, though. I mean it. You’re adorable.” He presses up onto his toes and kisses Jens’s nose.
Jens resists the urge to roll his eyes at him or drag him into a proper kiss and leads him to the kitchen instead. Lucas traipses after him leisurely, taking everything in, trailing his fingers along the wall. Jens opens the fridge. “Do you want anything else to eat? Or drink?”
“Uhm, just water, maybe?”
Jens pours him a glass of water and hands it over, filling one for himself and leaning back against the counter before taking a sip. He considers Lucas for a moment and then holds up a finger before slipping out to the back door. He cracks it open and immediately catches sight of Nugget on the step, waiting patiently.
Jens huffs and steps back, opening the door wider and allowing him to scuttle in and run straight to the kitchen. Jens returns just in time to see Lucas drop into a crouch, face lighting up with excitement as Nugget barges right into his hands, tongue hanging and tail wagging as Lucas sets his hands in his fur.
“Hi,” Lucas coos, voice taking on the tone Jens has only ever heard people use with babies. “You’re so cute. What’s your name? Huh?”
Jens bites his lip as he makes his way over to him, shaking his head at the display. By now Nugget is scrabbling at Lucas’s hoodie, having raised onto his back paws to get closer. “This is Nugget,” Jens introduces. “Nugget, this is Lucas. I was gonna warn you not to be jealous that I might like him more, but obviously he’s not gonna let that be a problem.”
Lucas grins up at him, entirely amused by his sigh and his pout. “You’re still my favourite,” he soothes. “Even more so now that I’ve met your dog.”
Jens laughs, but he is soothed. He relaxes even further as Lucas raises back to full height and draws him into a kiss. They enjoy the few seconds before Nugget barks, and then Jens is huffing and pulling away, looking down at him with a scowl. “Why did I let you in?”
Lucas smacks the back of his head for the comment, but kisses him again immediately after his whine of pain. Jens goes about getting Nugget his food and water as Lucas sits down on the floor and plays with him, looking entirely at home in Jens’s kitchen. It has an effect Jens can’t quite describe beyond the race of his heart and the flutter in his stomach. They spend a little while in this space, talking quietly about nothing. They discuss their studying, exams, assignments, for a few minutes before shutting it down in the agreement to take the night off. Nugget comes to settle himself in Lucas’s lap after filling his stomach, having already taken ownership of the boy. Jens might actually be a little annoyed if he didn’t feel so fond.
After a while, he lets Nugget back out into the garden and takes Lucas upstairs.
He has a brief moment of panic in which he wonders over the state of his room, not entirely comforted by the reminder that he has seen Lucas’s space in utter disarray multiple times. He’s glad when he opens the door and can’t inmediately see a mess or any laundry lying around. He turns to look at Lucas hesitantly, biting his lip as he watches the boy look around, taking in the space with delicate attention.
He moves around, examining the books on Jens’s shelves, his small collection of old CDs. He roves his eyes over the walls, where football posters are still tacked up alongside some of his drawings. Lucas zones in on these, lips twitching up at the corners as he gets closer.
“I didn’t know you drew.”
Jens shrugs. “I don’t, really. At least not like you. Not seriously. Just those kind of doodles.”
Lucas smiles fully, nodding. “They’re cool. Maybe you have a knack for art after all and aren’t just a secret makeup nerd.”
“Oh, Robbe already sent me some of the edited version of that. Do you want to see?”
“Really, already? That was quick.”
“It’s Robbe,” Jens laughs. “He’s always working.”
Lucas nods and Jens nods back, crawling onto his bed and patting the space beside him as he takes out his phone. Lucas settles down against his side, making himself comfortable on Jens’s shoulder the second he’s given permission. Jens pulls up the video and hits play. He relaxes into his pillows, focused more on Lucas pressed against him than the video. Lucas’s quiet laughter is enough of an indicator, and Jens only looks at the phone when he groans, covering his face with a hand.
“I can’t believe I let you rope me into this. Kes and Jayden are gonna see this and they’ll never let me forget about it.”
Jens huffs, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he watches the footage. It’s one of the close-ups of Lucas, showing off the smoky eye Jens had managed to give him as he looks up at the camera, shaking his head before Jens stills him, laughing. “You look really pretty, though. I mean it,” Jens adds, before Lucas can roll his eyes or laugh it off.
The boy blushes instead, glancing up at him under his lashes, smiling widely. “You think so?”
Jens hums, tilting his head down to kiss him, relaxing further. “You always do, though. My handiwork just helped a little.”
“Oh, is that it?” Lucas laughs, leading Jens to hum again. “Okay, I see.”
Jens goes in for another kiss, but something has distracted Lucas. He leans up and away from Jens as he looks at his shelves again. “Is that a keyboard?”
Jens follows his line of sight before nodding.
“Moyo said you were more of a musician. Why have I never heard you play?”
It’s a simple enough question, and yet it makes Jens nervous. “I don’t know, I don’t really do it as much anymore.”
Lucas looks at him, soft and curious. “Would you play something for me anyway?”
Jens only hesitates for a moment before getting to his feet and fetching the instrument. He settles on the bottom of the bed, facing Lucas, who had leaned back to lie against the headboard as he watches him. Jens balances the keyboard on his lap and takes a moment to turn it on and adjust the volume, pressing a few keys to test it out and give him time to think of a song.
Eventually he settles on a score he’d learned recently, devoid of lyrics and focusing entirely on the notes. It starts off slow and allows him to get into a rhythm, fingers shaking, fluttering through the first few sections before gaining a little confidence as the rhythm becomes familiar.
It’s nerve-wracking, being able to feel Lucas’s eyes on him. Having anyone’s eyes on him. But he focuses on the music, and doesn’t falter.
He floats his hands naturally over the keys, having settled entirely by the time the rhythm picks up. It’s still not the hardest speed, and has a few repetitions, and it doesn’t take quite enough of his attention to make him forget about Lucas. He chances a glance at him when it slows down again, fingers lingering on the keys. Lucas is watching him with rapt attention, lips slightly parted, entirely focused. He looks much too enticing to just be lying here, in Jens’s bed, watching him, not doing anything to distract or attract attention and managing it anyway. Jens quickly averts his gaze down again and falls back into the quicker notes.
By the time he reaches the high section, his heart is at ease. It flows out of him in the stillness of the room, his pulse matching the ebb and flow of the music as it tapers out. It fills him with a light only music can, a familiarity now long ingrained in him. It’s in his nature, to pour himself out through his hands into the keys.
He holds the last note for an extra second, then looks up at Lucas. The boy is already watching him with a smile, eyes alight with that familiar wonder and misty with something Jens can’t identify. He crawls down the bed towards Jens and draws him into a kiss, deep and slow, careful of the keyboard in Jens’s lap as he tangles a hand in his hair. Jens kisses back reflexively, heart thudding.
“You’re amazing,” Lucas murmurs, after a few minutes that may just be seconds, expression still achingly soft.
Jens shakes his head, incidentally brushing their noses together. “It’s nothing special.”
“It is,” Lucas argues. “You are.”
Jens shuts his eyes and presses closer to him, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. They remain there for a moment before Lucas quietly says, “I want to talk to you, if that’s okay.”
It’s exactly what Jens had been hoping for, but it surprises him. His chest feels tight as he sets the keyboard aside and devotes his full attention to the other boy, who now avoids his gaze, nervously playing with his hands.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Jens reminds him. “But I’m listening. Nothing’s gonna scare me away.”
Lucas nods slightly, licking his lips. He lets out a shaky breath before straightening his shoulders and looking at Jens, resolute. “I know you don’t really understand why I stayed in Utrecht, or why I felt like it was my fault when my mom…” he trails off. Takes another breath. Starts again. “I didn’t tell you, but I fucked up before. After my dad left, everything was a little shitty. I couldn’t do it on my own, couldn’t even understand how to begin. I just needed to get away from it. I spent as much time as I could out of the house. With Kes and Jayden, at their houses or at parties, drinking and smoking. It wasn’t a big deal then, because it’s what we were all doing. I wasn’t just some rebellious, angry kid or something.”
He seems to falter, so Jens nods. Reminding him that he’s listening and also attempting to encourage him on. Jens presses closer, letting their knees bump before he takes Lucas’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over the backs soothingly.
“I didn’t even think about how I was barely seeing her. I was always home late and she was always asleep early. Everything was fine, so I could keep ignoring it. I got home one night as usual and didn’t pay attention to the fact that the door was locked, or that it was unusually quiet. I was shitfaced, so I just went straight to bed. Imagine the fucking shock I had when my dad woke me up shouting the next morning.”
Lucas huffs, self-deprecating, and Jens resist the urge to pull him into his arms. Not yet.
“She was in the hospital,” he says quietly. “She’d downed half a bottle of pills and the neighbours found her. They’d had to call an ambulance. My dad was still her emergency contact. And I had no fucking idea about any of it.”
He looks up, eyes watery, and Jens pulls him in and holds onto him tightly. Lucas folds against his chest, tucking his head easily under his chin as he clings to Jens’s red hoodie. Jens strokes a hand down his face and presses a kiss to the top of his head, breaking down what he’d been told and trying to figure out how he’s supposed to respond.
“Fuck,” is what he eventually settles on. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Luc.”
Lucas shakes his head, gripping him tighter. “If I’d just been there, it wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t even know she wasn’t doing well. She was supposed to have someone who could watch out for the signs. She was supposed to be safe with me.”
Jens shakes his head, squeezing him, trying to convey comfort and reprimand all at once. “That’s not fair. None of that is on you. You don’t even know that you could have stopped it.”
“But I could have tried. I could have gotten to her sooner. I could have done something.”
It’s so adamant that Jens doesn’t feel like he can argue. He tries to put logic to it, but it doesn’t feel like something that can be broken down in such a way. He doesn’t think that’s what Lucas wants. He isn’t looking for pity or for Jens to excuse him.
Instead, Jens says, “I understand, Luc.”
Lucas presses closer to his chest, but finally glances up at him. Jens notes that though it had seemed like he would, Lucas hasn’t shed a tear.
Jens strokes his fingers down his cheek and presses a kiss to his forehead, watches him shut his eyes. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
Lucas nods, swallowing slightly, tilting his head against Jens’s cheek. “I just—it was too hard to explain right away. It isn’t something I talk about often. I mean, it’s been over a year since it happened and she’s past it, but I’m not. It’s dumb. Getting rid of the guilt...it’s something I’ve worked at and failed on for so long. Going back to her now, and messing up the same way just reminded me of what happened then and I couldn’t let it happen again. I’ve tried so hard, Jens.”
Jens cups his neck and tilts his head back enough to press their foreheads together, sending only comfort now as he gives another nod. “I get it. I’m not mad, Luc. I never was.” He sighs, letting his own eyes close as he attempts to gather his thoughts. “It just scared me. I know that I fuck up easily. I say or do stupid things and I don’t always pay enough attention. I’ve made it hard for people before. I was worried I’d done the same to you.”
Lucas shakes his head against his. “Hey,” he coaxes, touching Jens’s cheek. “I didn’t leave because you made it hard and I didn’t ignore you because I don’t trust you. I went home to tell my friends how much I care about you and I fucked up while I was there. I didn’t want to be the reason anyone got hurt, and I thought the best way to protect you was to let you go. But I fucked up and I’m so, so sorry Jens.”
“Don’t be,” Jens murmurs. “Just promise me you’ll stay.”
He has a feeling that they aren’t done. He’s aware that even if there is truly no more to het out of Lucas, Jens has his own demons lingering between them. But right now, Lucas is in front of him. He can’t bring himself to care about anything else.
“I’m staying,” Lucas swears instantly. “My life is easiest with you in it.”
“I know I’m shit at this, too,” Jens whispers. “At talking about things, and just being honest. I know I can make it hard to trust me. But it—it’s been hard for me to trust anyone, too.”
Lucas strokes his cheek, nodding, expression pinched.
“But I trust you,” Jens admits.
Lucas swallows. “Nothing is hard with you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of,” he replies.
Jens kisses him, hard and unrelenting, and Lucas gives as good as he gets as he slides his hands under Jens’s hoodie.
52 notes · View notes
starrynite7114 · 4 years
Text
everything is you: six
A/N: Good afternoon! Sorry for taking so long to update, have not been in a good mindset and still not, but I want to post this just to give you guys something. It’s been hard and my confidence in my writing has been shit. It’s not something I like sharing, but just wanted to be honest with you all. I just want to thank you all for giving me such nice messages regarding my finals, it was awful, but definitely glad to have it over with. 
Currently, Snapshots and Misconstrued is almost done, just trying to work some things out with it. Two Weeks part two should be coming  up soon as well along with three requests. I’m updating the request list later, if you do not see your request, feel free to message me. 
Also, got a Rio/Reader/Angel story on the horizon. 
Thank you all for your patience and support. Hope you all enjoy this update! Love you all!
I would also like to thank @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​ & @justahopelessssromantic​ <3 
Also, happy birthday @losolvidad0s​ <3
everything is you
one : two : three : four : five
Word count: 8088
Warnings: Angst
Masterlist tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @ifoundmyhappythought​ : @carlaangel86​ : @woahitslucyylu​ : @encounterthepast​ : @enamoured-x​ : @whyisgmora​ : @briana-mishell24​ : @bribri-82​ : @briannab1234​ : @chibsytelford​ : @agirllovespasta​ : @twistnet​ : @everyhowlmarksthedead​ : @trulysuccubus​ : @jadert15​ : @sammskellington​ : @cind-in-real-life​ :  @claytoncardenasbabymama​ : @sadeyesgf​ : @thickemadame​ : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass​ : @gemini0410​ : @elcococruz​ : @samcrobae​ : @sesamepancakes​ : @iambabyharry​ : @blackmissfrizzle​ : @soamayansfangirl​ : @1-800-imagines​ : @phoenixhalliwell​ : @lady-pswrld​ : @dazzledamazon​  : @getyourcrayoncas​ : @fvckthisbxtchup​ : @lukealvxz​ : @scuzmunkie​ : @lilac-tea-time​ : @danie1432​ : @cocotheclown​ : @soaronmywings​ : @my-rosegold-soul​ : @buttercup812​ : @itskiranbitch​ : @angelreyesgirl​ : @sheeshgivemeabreak​ : @vicmackeybullshxt​ : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ : @khyharah​ : @strawberrywritings​ : @cherry-icetea​ : @fuzzy-jellyfish​ : @losolvidad0s​ : @brownsugarcoffy​ : @courtrae89​ : @prdsdjarin​​ : @blessedboo​​ : @marvelmaree​​ : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​​ : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ : @thesandbeneathmytoes​
As always, if you want to be added to the tag list or do not see your name, please let me know!
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Alena laughed as Victor told her about his younger brother Richard and all the mischief they used to partake in when they were younger. She’s met Richard a few times and he was quite a charming guy, but he definitely was not as charming as Victor.
He was the oldest of the two and their parents passed away when they were younger. The only family they had, the only family they cared for was Eddie Johnson, Alena’s boss. Victor was Eddie’s nephew, his self-proclaimed favorite nephew, though Richard states the same phrase as well. Alena liked being around them since she reminded them of her own little family. 
“Are you going with Mr. Johnson next week to Bali?” 
“No, I passed this time around since you respectfully declined yet again.” Victor wasn’t sure what it was about Alena. She was a cute girl, but she was hardly his type. But he gravitated towards her. His Uncle Eddie always raved about her and he had to get to know her. Much like her, he had a shared love for art and was actually a gallerist for a few well known painters and sculptors. Victor didn’t do it much since he found himself working at his uncle’s much more often, mostly due to Alena.
For years, they’ve become closer and closer and he learned more and more about her. And due to that, he fell harder and harder. At times he felt like an idiot for doing so, she was married, no matter what the status of her relationship with Angel was, he knew Angel had a hold over her. He wasn’t sure if it was gratitude, his son or what, but whenever she spoke about Angel, her whole face would brighten up. But he also had the greatest control over her emotions. He doesn’t think Angel purposely yo-yo’s his feelings for Alena, but it frustrated him.
Alena should move on and be with someone who would proudly tell people that they were in love with her. Not someone who kept her at limbo and had sex with her more frequently than Alena would like to admit to him. He was honestly surprised Alena wasn’t pregnant. 
“I would rather spend some time away from Mr. Johnson, he’s amazing, but I need a break. He might make me work while we’re there.” Alena took a bite of her pasta, letting out a small moan at how good the sauce was. “Absolutely insane how good that is.”
Victor couldn’t help it. Hearing her moan, it made his dick twitch. But he would never push Alena and he was pretty sure this was a friendly dinner and not a date. 
“My grandmother had the best recipes. If you marry me, I can totally share the family recipes.” He winked at her, making Alena blushed. “Speaking of marriage, how is your husband dearest?”
“He’s fine, I’m really sorry about the way he answered the phone the other night. He’s just protective and you know, territorial cause he thinks I won’t be committed to Cruz anymore.” She took a sip of the wine that she bought for their dinner. “I can assure you, there is nothing going on besides coparenting.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Alena placed some salad on her plate. 
“Come on Alena, we’ve been friends for almost seven years now. You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Angel and now, he tells you he has feelings for you. It’s a rollercoaster ride with him and you deserve someone who is more stable.” He was talking of himself of course, but it was true. Alena didn’t need to be taken on this ride. She deserved more than that. 
“Angel is just projecting or something, he just thinks he’s losing me because I’m interested in you.” Alena looked up at Victor before looking back down at her food. 
He smirked at her admission and lightly chuckled. “You’re interested in me, carina?” It was his nickname for her, cute in Italian. Alena always hoped that Victor would never call her that in front of Angel and she was determined to keep it that way. She knew Angel’s nicknames held special meaning and she didn’t want him thinking that Victor had numerous nicknames for her. It was just one and if she was being honest, it was incredibly adorable.
“Maybe, I don’t know.” Alena sighed, biting her bottom lip, which Victor hated cause all he wanted to do was kiss her. 
“Alena, I would never push you. If you want to give it a shot, that’s fine, but I know the guilt is eating you up cause you’re technically married and you respect the sanctity of marriage.” Victor placed a hand on top of hers. 
Alena couldn’t help but think how much bigger Victor’s hands were compared to hers. She looked up at him and he had that warm smile he always gave her. Victor was always there for her, he was so sweet and always let her do her own pace. He never pushed her or anything. 
Once she and Angel’s divorced was finalized, she would give him a chance. 
“I have a gallery I’m setting up for next week, did you want to come and see how it’s done?” Victor knew of Alena’s passion for art. She was an amazing painter and he really wanted to slightly push her on sharing her work with the world. Hell, he wanted her to go back to school and pursue art so he could get her to do a few gallerist work, maybe even become an art handler. She couldn’t be Uncle Eddie’s assistant forever. 
“Sure! I would love that, when is it again?” Alena excitedly replied. She’s never seen an art gallery be put together before and she would love to experience that. 
“Next Tuesday, it’s at the art gallery a few blocks from our apartment.”
“Sounds good, I’m excited to see the master at work.”
Victor held Alena’s hand as he walked her down to her door, their night was full of laughter, random topics of conversations and just an overall good night. Alena forgot how it was to go on a date with someone and she was glad it was Victor that she went out with. 
“I had a great time.” Alena told him when they stopped in front of her door. 
“Same here on our lovely friendly date.” He teased her. “I’m serious about this Alena, I really want for us to give it a shot when you’re ready.”
Alena was slightly annoyed at the fact that she let herself be blinded by her relationship with Angel, well her non-relationship. He was always so hot and cold. She knew enough about relationships to know it wasn’t worth it. Their relationship was solely for Cruz and she was finally understanding that better and better. 
“I know. Thank you again.” 
Victor nodded his head, his eyes drifting to Alena’s lips. Maybe a little push wouldn’t hurt her. He leaned down, waiting for Alena to back away or anything, but she didn’t. When their lips connected, Alena froze, but eventually relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. Alena couldn’t help but compare Angel and Victor. Angel’s lips were moist, warm, and so sinfully delicious. And to her surprised, so was Victor’s. The butterflies in her stomach were going wild as Victor’s tongue slipped inside her mouth. 
He eventually pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. He gave her one more kiss before pulling away. 
“I’m gonna go before this goes any further.” Victor chuckled. “Good night Alena.”
“Good night Victor.” She unlocked her door and leaned against it once it was locked.
God, she was in such trouble. 
============
Carla sat down on Alena’s couch, nursing the wine glass in her hands, completely enjoying her day. They went to the spa like Angel had suggested and it was the best idea ever. Carla watched as Alena smiled as she was texting on her phone. It seemed that her date with Victor went well since she had been texting him nonstop this whole day.
“Dude, put your phone down, you need a break from Victor.” Carla teased her.
“I’m not talking to Victor,” Alena laughed. “Angel is being silly and sending me pictures of him and Cruz.”
Carla had to smile at that. From what EZ told her, Angel finally realized his feelings for Alena, but was just taking his sweet ass time to tell her. The way she saw it, Angel was losing precious time because Alena seemed to be entertaining the idea of starting a relationship with Victor. 
“Ah, the husband. How are things with you and Angel?” Carla placed her wine glass on the coffee table.
“Good, the sex ban went out the door.” Alena had her phone on her lap. 
Carla had to applaud Alena for the valiant effort. She knew that she could just deny Angel for so long. She couldn’t blame her, even though she was with EZ, she could appreciate that Angel was a good looking guy. And she knew of Alena’s attraction to Angel, her love for Angel. It was sad at times knowing how much Alena gave up for Angel, how much she loved him to the point that she became the mother of his child. 
“Told you you couldn’t resist him.”
“He literally woke me up to have sex.” Alena blushed remembering how amazing that night was.
“Has Angel ever not enticed you?” Carla teased.
“Yes, there was like six months where we didn’t do anything because I really didn’t want to do anything with him. He didn’t initiate anything until I was fully comfortable with sleeping with him.” Then she remembered Angel’s words. “Cruz asked Angel for a sibling.”
“Oh, did he?” Carla was more than amused. She’s heard that before. Cruz had been asking Angel for a sibling and it was always the same response, ‘we’ll ask mommy’. Carla was secretly rooting for Angel. She watched them do this dance for so long and always wanted Alena to be happy, she knew that it would be with Angel no matter how much of an idiot he was. As much of an idiot Angel was, Carla always saw how much Angel cared for Alena. He always protected her, was there for her and she was almost sure that Angel almost killed Dante, well deserved.
“Yeah,” Alena shrugged. “But I mean we’re getting divorced in a few months, so maybe his next girlfriend.” She laughed, but Carla knew there was no humor.
“Why do you do that?” 
“Do what?”
“Put yourself down or even believe Angel would let you go.” Carla knew Angel had no plans on signing the divorce papers. “Your Cruz’s mom, do you think that after you get divorced if it even happens, that you would become a stranger?” Carla wasn’t sure if Alena knew what would happen once they got divorced, but it wasn’t what she thought that was for sure. Hell, she didn’t even actually believe that they would get divorced. Angel finally realized he’s in love with her. If there was one thing she knew for certain about Angel, she knew he wasn’t a quitter. Alena has loved Angel for so long, she was certain her friend would never believe it once he confesses. “I love you Alena, but you can be so naive. Angel would never let you go, Cruz would never let you go. I know you somehow believe that you two will get divorced and have shared custody of Cruz, but we both know you don’t want that and Angel doesn’t either.”
“Angel just likes me because of convenience. Otherwise, he would take any other women.” Ailee slightly smiled, looking down at her lap. “He said it himself that he had no feelings for me, and that’s okay.”
“You can’t possibly believe that, Angel is losing his shit because of Victor.”
“Angel is just territorial. I’ve been the one constant in his life and he’s being unreasonable, once he finds someone else to occupy his time, wouldn’t even be an issue.” 
“Stop doing that, come on Alena, give Angel more credit than that.” Carla should help Angel, especially how much of a dick she was when it came to Victor. Besides, all she wanted was for Angel to realize what he had before he lost it. The Reyes brothers could be so dense at times. “Do you,” she paused, not sure if she should even put the idea in Alena’s head cause Angel would have her head. “Do you want to pursue something with Victor?”
Alena looked at her best friend, slightly laughing. She wasn’t sure. Victor has always been there for her, he was a kind man who protected her. He was smart, Cruz liked him, and he wasn’t bad on the eye. But at the same time, Angel, she’s loved Angel for eight years now. She prayed that maybe it would fade, that she would settle with being friends with him, the old cliche, she’d rather have him than not at all. 
Then Cruz happened.
Then they got married.
And now, she was anticipating for them to divorce.
God, she felt like a fool.
She gave up so much for Angel. She didn’t expect him to do the same and she was an adult who made her choice. She never regretted it. But she wished she found someone for herself as well. 
And she felt now that she did. 
She found it in Victor. 
“Yes, once Angel and I are divorce, I want to pursue something with Victor.”
Carla felt her stomach drop and she kind of regretted asking Alena. She knew once she told EZ, it wouldn’t be long before Angel found out. Angel would raise hell knowing him and his temper. Carla wasn’t obtuse to Angel’s feelings for Alena before his own realization. The way he protected her, the way he hung onto her every word, the way he followed her around like a fucking lost puppy, it was endearing and annoying how Alena never realized Angel was in love with her. 
“Don’t use Victor as a rebound, he deserves more than that.”
“I’m not,” Alena weakly defended. “I wouldn’t pursue anything with Victor till I’m fully over Angel.”
“Alena, you’re never going to be over Angel.”
“I can do it, just need some motivation, which is this divorce. Once the papers are filed, I have to keep my distance and just interact with him for Cruz. I can do this.”
“It’s not that I doubt you can do it, I’m sure you could if you truly pushed yourself, but what I’m trying to get through your stubborn ass head is that Angel wouldn’t let you go. Do you not know Angel? He would kill a man for you if you requested for him to do so.” 
“That doesn’t constitute to love Carla. I would do anything for Angel too. I would do anything for you.” 
“Alena, that’s literally not my point.” 
“Carla, please, don’t do that. This is the reason that the hope has never faded. I want to remain friends with Angel and co-parent for Cruz’s sake. I thought you wanted me to move on, to find my way away from Angel.” 
“Things change.” Carla didn’t want to tell Alena that Angel was in love with her, that wasn’t her place. But she can dissuade her from thinking of Victor than anything more than as a friend. 
“It doesn’t matter, it’s been five years. Nothing has happened and it’s time to move on.” 
Alena was done. 
It was time to move on from Angel. 
============
“Mama, can we go to the park today?” Cruz questioned as he finished his plate of pancakes.
“Of course baby.” Alena nodded her head, taking another bite from the breakfast sandwich she made for herself.
“May I be excused?”
“You good little man.” Angel let Cruz go. He wasn’t saying he didn’t have manners, but all of Cruz’s mannerism was definitely all Alena. 
Cruz jumped down from his seat, going to the couch to watch some cartoons, something he has done right after breakfast while Alena usually cleaned up. At times he wouldn’t help her, but Alena excused him, since she wanted to talk to Angel. He was finishing up breakfast, chuckling as Cruz enjoyed his PJ Mask.
“Did you get all of your errands done?” Angel questioned. He was relieved when he woke up and Alena was bringing her stuff in this morning. He didn’t want to bug her and seemed needy, but a few times, he was itching to ask her to come home. 
“Yes, I did,” she smiled, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. 
“You know you’re due for your annual eye appointment.” Angel reminded her before he took a bite out of his breakfast sandwich and shoving hash browns right after. 
Angel loved having breakfast with Cruz and Alena. They were a real family and it always had him starting his day on a good foot. Just being able to be with his two favorite people was the best thing in the world.
It always marveled Alena how good Angel was with appointments for her and Cruz. Like routine work, doctor’s office appointments, dental visits and annual eye exams was something Angel kept track of. Her and Cruz’s inhaler and nebulizer refills? Angel was always on it. 
It was quite impressive and she was touched. 
“Am I? How are you so good at this, but forget to put the toilet seat down.” She teased him. She poured more mango juice in her cup, pouring some in Angel’s as well.
Angel chuckled. “I have to make sure you’re well taken care of cause you suck at taking care of yourself.”
“Thanks Angel,” she blushed, which didn’t go unnoticed by Angel. He did it to purposely see her blushing. 
It was so fucking cute. 
“Do you want me to make the appointment?” Angel knew that Alena absolutely loathed talking on the phone. She would become anxious, planning the conversation ahead. So from time to time, he helped her out. 
“No, it’s fine, I can do it.” She appreciated the offer. Angel really took care of her. “You can’t always make my phone calls for me.”
“That is true, but I would do anything for you cielo.” He kissed the back of her hand making Alena blush again. He chuckled. “Eres tan linda.(You’re so cute).”
They continued to eat, Angel updating Alena of the recent club happenings. She was hesitant to bring up Victor, but if she wanted a chance on normalcy, she would have to start somewhere.
“So, Victor and I went out and it was nice, we went to a museum then we had dinner at his place.” Alena paused, if they were ever going to become normal or whatever the fuck they were before Cruz, she had to talk to Angel like he was her friend, not tip toe around him. “And he kissed me.”
Angel choked on the mango juice he was drinking, looking at Alena like she grew another head. “Excuse me, what?”
“Yeah, we kissed at the end of our date.  It was nice, he was very sweet. Potential, once we get divorced.” 
Angel was fucking losing it. Did he fucking enter the twilight zone that Alena was nonchalantly talking to him about going on a date with Victor and kissing him. 
And divorce?
Maybe she’ll change her mind when he tells her how he loves her and how he wants to be with her. That he was an idiot for not moving quicker and just letting everything hang in the air. Communication hasn’t been his greatest asset, but he was going to try for her. 
He would never force Alena to stay with him, but he knew her actions were a consequence of his own doing.
“Alena, what are you doing?” 
She looked at him oddly as she took Cruz’s plate, placing it on top of hers.
“Nothing, I’m telling you about my date.” 
“You’re telling your husband about a date you went on?” Angel tried to say it in a way so she could see how insane she sounded. He knew what she was doing, trying to normalize this insane notion of her and Victor being together, to try and become just friends. She has never been just a friend to Angel.
“Yes, we’re friends right? And we know what this is. The divorce papers should be ready in the next few weeks and once it’s signed, we’re both free to,” she thought for a moment, “publicly do what we want.”
Yep, Alena had him fucked up.
“Divorce papers? Who agreed to a divorce?” Angel didn’t like this at all. He fucked up. He should have told Alena so that they could be talking about having more kids not fucking dates and divorce papers.
“We did, a few years back remember?” Alena wasn’t sure where this surge of confidence was coming from, but this was to protect herself. She’s loved Angel for so long and he was always so hot and cold, he didn’t know where to place her so she’ll do it for him.
“Alena, I don’t have any plans on ever signing those papers, you want to file them, go ahead, but we both know you don’t want for us to get divorced.” Angel shook his head in disbelief. This was partly his own doing, but he knew what Alena was trying to do. She was taking initiative since he’s been so back and forth with her. But he was taking initiative too. Alena was his wife, and they’ll remain that way. “You kissed him?"
"Yes,” Alena noticed then that Angel was stoic, keeping his emotions at bay which he did when he was trying his best to control himself. “I'm sorry, I don't know how it happened." She wasn’t certain why she apologized, but she felt that she had to do so. They were married.
"You said you had errands." Angel reminded her of her lie. Since when did Alena lie to him?
"I did and Victor wanted to go to dinner and a museum. I just, it just happened." 
“Did you sleep with him?” Angel stood up.
“No, of course not.”
“Yes because just kissing him is so much better.” Alena watched as Angel placed a kiss on Cruz head as he was sitting on the couch, watching television. He looked up at him confused. "I got shit to handle at the club, I'll be back late, don't wait up." Angel grabbed his kutte.
"Angel, please, I'm sorry." Alena wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. Angel had told her that he didn’t have anything to do today except be with them. “We’re just friends.”
“I don’t like Victor, you’ve never lied to me before and since this whole thing started you started lying to me.” Angel frowned. “If there was nothing to worry about you wouldn’t hide it and you wouldn’t excitedly tell me about a kiss you two shared.” Angel turned to face her as his hand gripped the doorknob. “Do you love Victor?”
"What?" That was ridiculous, she didn’t love Victor. 
"Do you love Victor?"
"No." And she didn’t. 
"Do you want to be with him?"
"I don’t know.” And she didn’t know. 
"Don’t know?” Angel let out a chuckle. “Sure doesn't seem like it."
============
Alena sat down at the park bench, Cruz in perfect line of sight for her. He was in the sandbox playing with a few other kids. She took out the book EZ had recommended for her a few weeks ago and opened it to the latest page she was on. Every once in a while, she would look up to check on Cruz. It made her anxious when they went to the park since she read so many horror stories of kids just disappearing. She wouldn’t know what she would do if Cruz disappeared while he was with her. 
She’s been trying to text Angel all day, but he hasn’t responded to her. In hindsight, she could understand why he hadn't responded to her, but she was hoping he would at least let her know he was okay. Maybe she approached it wrong and could have done it in a better way, but she didn’t know how else to do so. She was trying to go back to normal with Angel, whatever normal was for them two. They were friends once and were able to talk about anything, but it was different now. 
Though maybe it was disrespectful to speak about a date to her supposed husband.
“That’s a good book.” She heard someone comment beside her. “Don Quixote.”
She looked up and smiled at the person, thanking her. She noticed the tattoo on her neck, which was actually beautiful. The young woman before her was beautiful as well. Her pale skin was in contrast to her dark green jacket. She wasn’t sure why she was wearing a jacket since it was scorching hot in Santo Padre right now. But she definitely looked cute. 
“You’re Angel’s wife.”
Common knowledge in Santo Padre, not odd whatsoever. 
“Yes, I am.” Alena hoped this wasn’t one of those psycho’s who was hoping for her death so they could sweep Angel off his feet. Can they just sweep him off his feet without wishing for her death? Alena no longer wanted to be a part of this conversation, focusing her attention back on the book before her. Being Angel’s wife was quite a pain. Besides the fact he slept with almost fucking everyone in Santo Padre, all these women began to lust after him again after he got a ring around his finger and Cruz by his side. Cruz was a cute kid and it was hard to resist that aspect of Angel’s life, but she wished they would stop confronting her as if it would do something if they did. 
“I’m not here to start any trouble, I just wanted to meet the woman who has Angel’s heart.” Alena looked over at her again and she had a smile on her face, it wasn’t menacing, it was genuine. Woman who had Angel’s heart? Right, cause they’re married. “He speaks of you and your son often.”
“Do I know you?”
“My name is Adelita.” 
Alena almost gasped when the name registered. She was the rebel leader, the one she was convincing Angel to date. God, she was beautiful. 
“Oh,” Alena closed her book then. “Angel speaks of you often as well.” Alena lightly laughed. “I’m quite surprised to see you on this side.” 
“Plans have changed and I wanted to meet you. You have a beautiful son.” Alena and Adelita both looked over at Cruz who waved at his mother. “You’ve sacrificed a great deal for Angel.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, he didn’t. Any woman who has chosen to raise a child who is not hers is admirable, though I’m sure it came with great sacrifices.”
“It did, but I don’t regret it. They’re my family.” Alena wasn’t even sure why she was entertaining this conversation, but she had always wanted to meet the woman that Angel admired. “I have to correct your statement though, I don’t have Angel’s heart. I’m sure you know of our circumstances. In a few month’s time, we’ll be divorced so I’m sure you two can pursue whatever relationship you would like to do so then.”
Adelita laughed, shaking her head. “Angel did tell me you were planning to get a divorce.” It was comical for her since Alena and Angel were telling the stories differently. On one hand for Alena, their agreement has come to an end and it was time for the divorce. For Angel, she overheard him mentioning the divorce EZ as they drove her to her destination a week earlier and how he had no plans of divorcing her. 
Alena smiled, nodding her head. “Yes we are, will you be staying on this side of the border from now on? To be closer to Angel?”
“I think you misunderstood Alena, Angel and I only have a purely business relationship. He is quite an attractive man, but his attention is solely on you.” Adelita stood up then, Alena standing up as well. She stuck her hand out, which Alena took. “You are quite remarkable Alena Reyes, you have made a good man out of Angel.”
Adelita walked away then, leaving Alena speechless. She wondered why she even came to see her. She felt a pull on her skirt and looked down at Cruz.
“Mama, who was that?”
“Just one of daddy’s friends.” She ran her fingers through Cruz’s hair. “Did you want your juice?”
Cruz nodded his head. Alena took the juice out of the little cooler she had for Cruz’s snacks and drinks. Handing it to Cruz, she wiped the sweat on his face and back, making sure he was hydrated. 
“Mama, can I have a little brother or sister?” 
Alena wanted to laugh at Cruz’s request. It’s not like she thought Angel was lying, but Cruz has never asked her about having a sibling.
“You want a sibling?” Alena sat him on her lap, pressing her cheek against his head. “How many do you want?”
“Um, five.”
“Did you tell Daddy that?” 
Cruz nodded his head as he drank his juice. “Daddy says he wants, um,” Cruz thought for a moment. “He said he wanted 8.”
Alena let out a baffled laugh. 8 kids? Was Angel going to carry them all? What was up with her boys and wanting a handful of children running around.
“And when you ask Daddy, what does he tell you?”
“He says we have to ask you because you’re the boss.”
Alena shook her head. Her boys were too much at times. 
“How about a puppy first?”
============
Alena yawned as she exited the bathroom. She almost screamed when she found Angel sitting at the edge of their bed, fidgeting with the keys he had. 
“Angel?” She called out questioningly. No answer. He continued to fiddle with the keys. “Babe?”
Angel looked up, his watery eyes immediately got Alena. She quickly walked over to him and cupped his face.
“You okay? What’s wrong?” She frowned as the tears fell from his eyes. The scratches on his face worried her. She moved away to grab the first aid kit, but Angel grabbed her elbow and pulled her against him.
He had his head on her chest, arms tightly around her. “Please don’t leave me cielo, you’re the only person I have.”
“I would never leave you Angel.” She ran her fingers through his hair. She knew he was crying, the way his shoulders were shaking.
“You and Cruz are my family, I can’t lose you. I would go insane.” 
“Angel, you’re not going to lose me.” She pulled away, cupping his face as she wiped the tears. Angel rarely cried and when he did, she was the one who caught him and provided relief. “I’ll always be here for you.” She kissed him, knowing Angel needed some type of reassurance and it was the first thing that came to her head. 
Angel pulled her to his lap, Alena straddling him. He wrapped his arms around. One of Alena’s hands cradling his face, while the other arm wrapped around his neck. She pulled away, leaning her forehead against his. God, that kiss was definitely different when compared to Victor. When she kissed Angel, she felt that if she wasn’t sitting on Angel’s lap, her knees would go weak, her body going limp. All the worries they both had were wiped out since they were the only two people in this world, everything else blurred out.
“What’s wrong?” Alena asked.
“Ezekiel betrayed me.” Angel plopped down the bed, Alena still on his lap. 
She frowned, getting off his lap and moving to sit beside the top half of his body. “What happened?” She intertwined their hands, waiting for Angel to talk.
And when he did, he told her everything. 
At the end of the story, Angel had his head on Alena’s chest, her fingers running through his hair. His arms were wrapped around her middle as Angel listened to her heart. Alena was in shock that this all occurred. She always thought it was too good to be true for EZ to get out, but she believed that the cop may have been corrupt or whatever excuse they had given. She worried the most for Angel, his relationship with Felipe was starting to mend due to Cruz and now, she knew Angel’s trust was shattered. 
“What can I do to make it better?” Alena broke the silence that befell them after he finished his story.
“Just don’t leave me.”
“Other than that, you already know I won’t leave you.” Alena kissed the top of his head. 
“Can we have a baby?”
“If you carry it, absolutely.”
Alena and Angel both laughed. She playfully smacked him upside the head, causing Angel to flinch. He loved laying his head on her chest, just listening to her heart beating. At times, it even lulled him to sleep, but he knew sleep wouldn’t be coming soon. 
“He’s your brother Angel, I know you’re hurting, but hear him out.”
“No,” Angel’s tone was firm and left no room for argument. “You’re my family now, you, Cruz and your family are mine. I was always the outsider, but not anymore. I have a family of my own and none of our kids will ever feel second best to any of their siblings.” 
“Okay babe.” 
Angel knew this was the perfect time to tell her he loves her, to show her how much he loves her, but he wanted to settle this whole thing with Ezekiel. Once it was done, he would tell Alena everything and from them on, as it’s always been, it would be the two of them against the world. 
“I met Adelita.”
Angel froze, his eyes widening. He sat up, looking down at Alena who propped herself using her forearms. “What?”
“Yeah, she came up to me while we were at the park.” Alena noticed how uncomfortable Angel became and sat up as well, placing her hand on his. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s not weird at all. She’s beautiful and I think you two would make a good couple.” 
Angel gave Alena an incredulous look and shook his head. “Did she do anything? Say anything?”
“No, she just said she wanted to meet me and she thought I was remarkable, which was kind of odd if you think about it. I’m not the leader of some rebellious group that is giving the cartel a run for their money.” Alena went under the covers then, just so she could hide when Angel broke the news to her about him and Adelita. “You okay?” She noticed how tense Angel was. 
He was livid. How dare Adelita approach Alena. He told her, his family was off limits. No Alena. No Cruz. No Felipe. He played her game and helped her as much as he could, she should have at least respected his wishes. 
“What did she tell you?” 
“That she wanted to meet the woman who had your heart.” Alena turned to Angel, resting her head against her propped hand. “Did she meet her?”
Angel wanted to laugh at the irony and slowness of Alena. “Cielo, it’s you.”
“Look, I think we should clear the air.” Alena was surprised by her own words. She was never to be the one to clear the air and after what happened with Ezekiel, this may not be the right time, but they were here now. “I know you said you haven’t slept with anyone since we got married, which I believe you, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to try and salvage things here. We’ve always known what it was and that’s fine. Maybe we shouldn’t have sex anymore so it doesn’t,” Alena looked up at Angel when she noticed she was looking at his ringed fingers that had dried blood on it. “We should clean the blood off.” 
“So it doesn’t what?” 
“It doesn’t confuse us further.” She got out of bed and grabbed a wet cloth. She sat in front of Angel wiping off the dried blood from his knuckles. 
“I would never force you to be intimate with me Alena, we both know I can respect your boundaries.” Angel watched as Alena cleaned his wounds.
“I know, which is why I’m putting up my boundaries again. I want us to be able to be friends after all of this.”
“Alena, do you honestly think that’s going to make things better? I already told you, I have feelings for you and that’s not going to go away because you decide we’re not going to have sex. We’ve done it before, remember? Six months, no sex, which is fine, I would never force you. The most I did was kiss your neck.” Angel remembered that. Alena had asked him to back off, which he did, she eventually came to him on his birthday and after that, they’ve been intimate ever since. “It didn’t do anything for how I felt about you Alena, it just made me feel like you didn’t want me.”
“You’re so hot and cold Angel, I don’t even think you know what you want.” Alena sighed. “I don’t want to fight, you had such a long day and it’s almost six in the morning.” 
Angel stood up. “I’m gonna go see pops.”
“Angel, I, I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me Alena. I know I’ve been an asshole, I’m hot and cold, but I truly have feelings for you. Just give me time to fix all this shit with EZ and once it’s done, we can figure us out.” Angel walked over to her and kissed her. “I’ll see you later.”
Alena sat on their bed and sighed. The butterflies in her stomach were still running rampant after Angel’s words. She believed him, she really did, but he would most likely change his mind tomorrow.
She didn’t want to be with Victor, that was for sure.
At least not right now. Not when she was still irrevocably in love with Angel. 
============
Angel sat beside Coco on the couch as he finished his session with the tattoo artist. It’s been a whirlwind of a day and as much as he wanted to go home, he needed space from Alena. With everything going on, he didn’t know where they could go. Of course, confessing to Alena was still in the plan, but after Adelita came to see her, Angel just felt shaken. He never wanted to involve Alena in this, but he told her everything. She was like his journal, non judging and took everything in. The most important thing for her was him and Cruz, how it would affect them.
It would kill him if something happened to Alena and Cruz. 
“Alena texted me, have you spoken to her?” Coco questioned as he sat down next to his brother, letting out a puff of smoke from his mouth.
“I told her we were here and that I would be staying the night. Why?” His eyes drifted over to his brother who was currently getting the tattoo.
“You know Adelita came to see her?”
“She told me, why, what’s going on?” Did Adelita go to see her again? Did someone else? He took his phone out and there were no messages from Alena.
“I don’t know, I just don’t feel comfortable with her visiting Lenny.” Coco shrugged.
“You think I fucking do?” Angel sighed. “She isn’t going to harm Alena.”
“I don’t think she is, but I’m sure Alena’s mind is running wild.” Coco knew how deeply Alena felt for Angel. During times that Angel had a run that would take him away from Alena and Cruz for longer than he wanted which was basically a day, so Coco would stay with Alena. 
And when he did, he let her let loose and have a few drinks with him.
============
Alena giggled as she took another shot. Korean Vodka, Soju, was Alena’s favorite, specifically the apple flavor. Coco had come to take a liking of it as well and they were three bottles deep. Alena’s cheeks were red, a clear sign of her intoxication. She also had no filter, which Coco enjoyed thoroughly. 
“You know I feel stupid for taking on a role I always wanted, but not under this circumstances.” Alena rested her cheek on her palm, giving Coco a small smile. “I love Cruz so much though, I feel like he is my kid.”
“Alena, Cruz is your kid. He’s so attached to you.” Coco was surprised that Cruz didn’t throw a bigger fuss whenever Alena went back to San Diego. Though, it was a hit or miss. When he threw a big fuss, Alena would take him to San Diego, Angel following behind after a few days. Their dynamic was fucking odd, but who likes normal anyway?
“Sometimes I wish he really was, that Valeria wasn’t his mom.” Coco watched as Alena’s face scrunched up. “I was going to confess to him when he told me Valeria had his kid. I was going to tell him that I was in love with him, that I was going to Paris and if he didn’t feel the same, it was okay.” She began to cry then, letting her tears fall. “I love Angel so much, it hurts at times. But I’m happy where we are no matter how fake our relationship is. Being here for him, to raise Cruz with him, it’s more than I can ask for.”
Coco frowned at Alena’s words. He and Gilly always spoke about Alena’s love for Angel, how idiotic she could be, but at the same time, they admired her greatly. She had the purest kind of love for Angel. She didn’t become angry when he was with another person. She doesn’t hold grudges against him or anyone for that matter. She didn’t become angry when she felt rejected. She loved him unconditionally without any expectations and Coco was envious of that. They were all a bunch of misfits who did not have the best relationships with their families, they found a family in one another. Then they have Alena, someone they definitely don’t fucking deserve, who loves them as well, as an extension of her love for Angel.
When he first met her, he couldn’t believe this young woman was fucking hanging around Angel. He was closed off, but she always went out of her way to make sure he was taken care of along with Angel. And from then on, they became closer and closer. Seeing her hurting like this, it hurt him, his younger sister was suffering cause his brother was a fucking idiot.
He was certain Angel felt greatly for her too, with Cruz around, it just wasn’t the main priority. 
“Alena, you know you deserve better. You should have gone to Paris.” Coco was the one who encouraged Alena to go to Paris. Was it a dick move? Maybe, but Angel didn’t know what he had, perhaps it would have woken him up. She refused to tell him though. And he knew why. Angel would have begged her to stay and she couldn’t say no to him.
“Yeah, I should have. But when I met Cruz, I couldn’t. He looked so much like Angel. He deserved a chance to be a father. I wasn’t going to let Valeria take that away from him.” Alena wiped her tears, laughing at her silliness. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I like it when you come and stay with me, I miss spending time with you and the others.”
“Yeah, Angel fucking locked you down here or something ever since you two got married.” Coco teased. They held no hard feelings towards Angel. He was always protective of Alena, but that increased tenfold when they got married. “But we get it, Cruz is your priority.”
“He is.”
“Alena, it’s okay for you to cry. I know how frustrating it is for you. It’s rare for you to show any frustration, but don’t you just want to scream at times?”
“For what?”
“I’m sure this situation isn’t ideal for you. I know that you always wanted to marry Angel, but not like this.”
Alena smiled. “No, but it’s fine. Angel needs me, Cruz needs me. I’m like the glorified nanny.”
“Stop that shit Lenny, you know you’re not a fucking nanny. You’re Cruz’s mother.” Coco hated hearing Alena put herself down. She was far from a fucking nanny.
“I know, do you think Angel could ever love me?” 
“Alena, it’s hard not to fall in love with you.” 
“He didn’t though.”
Coco watched as Alena took another shot. But Angel was in love with her, he was just too fucking stupid to make a move.
============
“Running wild?” Angel wasn’t sure what Coco meant. Did Alena express to Coco that she was worried about Adelita or disclosed information she didn’t tell him about? If he was honest, he was glad Alena was close to the members, but at times, he felt that she withheld information from him and heard it from Coco instead. 
“I’m sure she thinks Adelita and you are getting together.” Coco regretted telling Alena how much Angel admired Adelita. She just gave him that smile of hers and he knew it got to her. Yet again, she was on the losing end with Angel. His brother really did a number on her.
“Is she fucking insane? I haven’t even touched another woman since we got married.” Angel knew it was easy to assume that he slept around, but he didn’t. He was devoted to Alena and that was that.
But he also knew why Adelita came to see Alena. She’s overheard Angel speak about Alena so much, anyone would be curious. 
They were across the border, bringing some supplies to Los Olvidados when Alena had messaged Angel.
============
Angel chuckled, shaking his head and replying to Alena. He knew there was some international charges, but he didn’t give a fuck. He always kept his phone on in case there was an emergency.
“What Lenny send you?” Coco questioned, trying to peak at Angel’s phone.
Angel moved it closer to his chest, shaking his head. “Nothing man, just Cruz finally jumping in the pool at her apartment building.”
“I still can’t believe you’re okay with her living in San Diego.” Coco chuckled. “You aren’t worried she’s dating people while you’re not there?”
“Careful bro, we don’t need Angel locking her down more than he already has.” Gilly teased Angel, adding to Coco’s statement. 
“Alena doesn’t need anyone, she has me.” Angel scoffed at their suggestion that his precious Cielo would even stray from him.
“Right, does she know that?” Coco was not a fan of Angel’s methods when it came to Alena. For him, he didn’t need to tell her they were it for one another, even though 
“You have a girlfriend?” Adelita surprised the three men. She was attracted to Angel and she honestly thought he was attracted to her, but she’s heard them mention the name Alena plenty of times. She thought she was just the mother of his child. 
“No, Alena’s my wife.” Angel showed his left hand.
Adelita smiled, nodding her head. “She’s a lucky woman. How long have you two been together?”
“Four years.”
“She must be one hell of a woman to have tamed you.”
Coco chuckled. “You have no idea.”
============
“I literally told Alena, it’s me and her. Always has been since we got married.” Angel extinguished his cigarette, shoving it down on the ashtray. 
“Hermano, you know why she’s like that. Talk to her. Communication is key.” Coco smirked. “And from what you told us, it’s not you and her anymore. She went on a date with Victor.”
“Victor is nothing. He’s a fucking pretentious asshole.”
"You would like Victor if he wasn't making moves on your girl. Told you, a girl like her would just stay single for so long. Her kindness was always beyond you, and someone finally noticed her. It's the day you always feared hermano, what are you going to do about it?"
"It's too fucking late for the church of Coco."
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normiewrites · 4 years
Text
happy bday kat u big fat pussy ass whore, heres ur iwa smut @bigpokico
also thank u to @bubblebanks1611 for beta reading this for me!
other tags: @kingtamakimurder @kbakugouwu
Practice is over - Iwaizumi Hajime x (fem)Reader
Warning(s): daddy kink, jealous fucking, orgasm denial, being used as a cumdump, choking, shower sex, semi-public sex, oikawa is a cuckhold hahAHA
“Who do you belong to, y/n?” Iwaizumi grunted against your wet back, your body trembling as you leaned against the cold tiled wall. You bit your lip harshly, holding in your moans as you felt his hard member thrust in and out of your soft velvet walls and his finger playing with and pinching your bundle of nerves, sending shocks up your abdomen. The steam from the hot shower that was running onto both of your bodies left your skin glistening with water drops and you admired how it accentuated the muscles of Iwa’s hand that was leaning against the wall along with your right hand.
You felt a spank against your ass, the skin slightly scorching due to the hot water running over the sensitive spot, making you moan as you arched your back, pushing your ass further against Iwa.
“I fucking asked you a questions, answer me” he growled, his other hand leaving your clit, snaking up your body and pulling on the roots of your hair, making you groan out his name as he leaned in to your exposed neck from behind, softly biting onto your sweet spot.
“I-I’m yours, Hajime” you moaned, clenching your pussy around him from his roughness.
“Say it louder”
“I’m yours, daddy!”
“Oikawa, stop pouting, you’ll get wrinkles” you chuckled, making him pout even further. You were on your way to pick up Iwaizumi from practice when you bumped into these two training late. You ended up staying for it despite the neediness between your legs that you had for your boyfriend.
“I’ll still be pretty, y/n-chan” he replied, taking a sip of water as you let your eyes linger on his neck for a bit too long.
“But what else can you be anyways? Definitely not loyal, always breaking up with your girlfriends, you can’t stay with just one” you mused, smirking at him as you took the water bottle from him.
“Maybe because the one I want is taken” he winked at you.
Being with Iwa and Oikawa for a while, his teasing never got to you, but you did know who it got to, and you wanted him to do something about it.
“Oh really? Maybe you can borrow me for a night, though I may be more than you can afford” you chuckled, patting his bicep in a mocking manner as he scoffed softly with a smile.
Before Oikawa could answer your tease, Iwaizumi interrupted, “Oi, get here, Shittykawa”, holding a glare with his words.
You turned to your boyfriend, smiling at the banter between the two as Oikawa joined him on the court, not before his eyes landed on you, a darker glare piercing you and making you subconsciously hold your thighs together. Yet you smirked, because he had heard all of it.
You couldn’t help your eyes trail down the muscular expanse of your man in this new position; your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you against the wall, the water glistening and highlighting the muscles with each move. Your eyes trailed down from his neck to his collarbone, then his pecs and abs, your eyes stopping at where his cock entered your pussy. You could just cum from the sight if it wasn’t for him denying you your release, especially from the way that your lips dragged around him when he pulled out. You threw your head softly back against the wall, your hands pulling at his wet roots as he kept slow and deliberate thrusts, bottoming you out every time, pelvises hitting each other.
“You’re such a slut, ‘you can borrow me for a night’? You just want to be used up as a cum bag, fill every pretty hole of yours up” he growled before latching his mouth onto your left tit, nipping and sucking at the skin around before softly biting down on your areola. You arched your back, your chest pushing against his face as he continued his ministrations on your body.
Your thighs quivered and tightened around his waist as his fingers groped your ass cheeks, leaving a few bruised marks on them, ramming his hard cock into your tight clenching walls, his tip pressing against that soft spongey muscle inside of you that made you see stars, making you tug onto his hair tighter as your back kept moving further up the wall.
“Don’t cum till I tell you to, doll.”
“Hey, y/n-chan, can you get the balls with us?” Oikawa called out to you, his voice interrupting your Instagram adventure.
Sighing softly, you murmured “I wish those weren’t the only balls I was getting” before going across the court to help them collect the balls after tucking your phone into your pocket.
As the three of you shared a comfortable silence, at one point when you got up from your bent over position near the nets and turned around quickly to put the ball into the basket, you banged into a strong and tall object, toppling on top of it. You groaned as you looked down, your hands on either side of the brunettes’ head, your hips straddling his as he propped his knees up as your school skirt flared around his stomach.
“Oh, hey there, Shittykawa” you laughed, sitting up straight, still straddling him as you looked at his flushed yet smirking expression, “What are you smirking at?”
“Nothing, y/n-chan, you’re too cute” he chuckled, getting up on his elbows before he pushed you off of him, making you land on your ass, earning him a kick to his calf.
You may have acted innocent, but you were so thankful with how wonderfully this all played into your hands, as you could feel Iwa’s glare at you the entire time, and you knew it would become worse if he spotted the boner that Oikawa sported.
“Practice is over” Iwaizumi suddenly announced, grabbing you by your wrist and picking up his bags on the way out as you sent a friendly wave to Oikawa.
As you both reached the locker rooms, you managed to snatch your wrist away from his grasp, pouting at him as you rubbed it softly not before being pushed up against the lockers, his hand making them echo on the inside as he slammed it against them.
“You’re such a tease, don’t act so innocent, you knew what you were doing” he growled lowly, his other hand wrapping itself around your throat, his rough calloused hands thumbing circles onto your skin.
You smirked softly, rubbing your thighs together in victory as you got what you wanted; Hajime jealous over you. You knew what all entailed in this and you wanted every second of it engraved onto your skin.
“I’ve been such a bad girl, Daddy, pleeease don’t punish me~” you whined softly through a pout as you let your hands run over his chest, licking your lips as you felt his muscles twitch underneath, his musk enveloping you into a faint daze as you watched a few beads of sweat drip down his face.
He shook his head, grabbing your hands in one tight grip as he pinned them up above you before leaning in close to your ear, wedging his thigh between your legs, whispering, “You won’t be ready for this.”
You watched in amazement and slight pain as only his cum dripped out of you, none of yours. You felt him fucking his own seed into you for the second time that evening as you stood with your back against the wall, one leg draped over his hip as he held it close to him, his cock buried into you at such a perfect angle. You had to bite onto your hand to not moan too loudly and not orgasm as he had instructed. Your insides burned from holding on so much as you were kept from releasing, the coil unbearably tight inside of you. Everything got even tighter as you both heard the door opening.
“Iwa-chan? Are you taking a shower right now?” the familiar cheery voice asked, the door slamming shut to the locker rooms.
You couldn’t help but to clench onto Iwa’s cock, the possibility of being caught much too exciting. What was even worse was that the shower walls were semi-opaque with a hazy coating, so it was easy to see shadows. Hajime didn’t miss out on your excited clenching, a low growl ripping out in him as he rutted into you deeper, smirking at your worried eyes.
“Yeah, what do you want?” he grunted out before moving his free hand to rub at your clit, biting down harder onto your hand as you clenched you eyes shut, seeing white as you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t hold it back any longer as you slowly let your strings snap one by one.
“Nothing, I just wanted to say, you’ve got a pretty cute girlfriend” he smiled, going through his locker and retrieving his stuff.
“When you fucking cum, you better let him know who’s making you cum this hard” he whispered to you before adding the most power he could to the thrusts.
“Oh yeah?” he responded to his best friend, his lips twitching as his oversensitive tip kept kissing your cervix, watching as his cum fell out the more he fucked it into you. At one particular thrust, his tip hitting deep against your g-spot, you felt everything snap inside of you, your toes curling and fingers leaving long scratches down his wet back as you finally came around him.
“Hajime!!!” you screamed out loud, your body shuddering as you couldn’t stop cumming, taken aback by how hard your orgasm hit your body. Iwaizumi followed you soon after, biting into your shoulder as he filled you up with his cum and you felt so blissed out with all of the seed filling you up, you almost forgot about the third person.
“Y/n-chan?”
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smallcrystals · 4 years
Note
sciflash 46 i’m getting invested
i’m actually kind of glad i didn’t delete this ask since i changed my mind !! this drabble (or as much of a drabble it is since it’s fucking long) is not gonna be part of my canon sciflash timeline.
one of the main reasons is that the topic is gonna be hard to fit into the rest of the continuity, and another is that i didn’t really want this to be about sciflash, given the topic at hand. so they’re just best friends in this (which i think maisa would appreciate tbh haha). i just wanted to focus on their relationship as best friends and how they comfort each other. so yeah!
anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this !!
tw / bulimia
———
Twilight shoved her hand into the pocket of her skirt, pulling out her phone to check the time. Twenty-five to four. She hoped to get to the Music Room before anyone else did, before the school bell rang at quarter to, hoping to not get lost in another large crowd of students. One strap of her bag on her shoulder, she raced up the stairs, gripping on the railing at the top to take a quick breather before starting up her run again.
Turning left, then right, she reached the Music Room and stopped, almost falling over her feet from the impact. After adjusting her hair and her glasses, she took a better look at the sign on the door. The Rainbooms.
Shit. Had the girls already booked the place before Flash got here?
She grabbed the handle and pushed it down, pausing when it wouldn’t go any further than forty-five degrees. She tried again, harder this time, and it wouldn’t budge. Twilight threw a confused look at the door before reaching for her phone again to call the boy in question until the door opened and Flash popped his head out.
“Oh, it’s just you,” Flash said, letting out a sigh of relief. His voice was low, not monotone but just… dull. His expression, while at first was filled with surprise, switched, almost automatically, back to sometime unreadable. She was starting to wonder why Flash texted for Music Room Time and there was one idea, but she didn’t like the sound of it at all. “Come in. Oh, and could you take off The Rainbooms sign while you’re at it—if that’s okay.”
Twilight nodded and unhooked the sign, bringing it inside with her. She wandered further into the room, tossing the laminated card along with the others. Flash locked the doors again.
“So, you said you wanted Music Room Time?” Twilight said, giving him as best of a comforting smile as she could give. 
Music Room Time was one of their few codes Flash and she used. The others were simple, cutting some words down, but this one was more ambiguous. Flash said he thought of it from the time he found Twilight alone in the CHS Music Room, grumpily attempting to play the guitar (and failing which worsened her mood). He had sat with her, playing his own, allowing his presence to comfort her since she clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever happened. And it worked. Well, it always worked. Flash did that somehow.
She couldn’t even remember what happened. But ever since then, really, did this start. If either of them wanted to rant about something, or ask for comfort, they’d use Music Room Time. They both found familiarity in this room, Sentry for obvious reasons and Twilight… well, she didn’t really have a clue as to why. Maybe it wasn’t the room itself, more so the people the room reminded her of.
Flash nodded in a sort of sheepish way, lifting the hem of his high-waisted jeans up with both hands. “It’s… I don’t know.”
“Advice or comfort?” she asked genuinely.
“...comfort.” His gaze fell to the floor, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. She had taken note of that ages ago when they started talking more that it was a nervous habit of his. “If that’s okay…”
Twilight felt her lips form a frown. Why would he think it wasn’t okay?
“Of course it is,” she said, voice tender. After dropping her bag to where Flash placed his, she walked up to the stairs and sat, patting the spot next to her for him. Flash dusted down his t-shirt, which was perfectly tucked into his jeans, and followed her.
He looked so tense. She hoped it wasn’t because of what happened yesterday but she couldn’t convince herself it wasn’t about that. The situation wasn’t pleasant in the slightest and his head probably wasn’t in a good place either. So she wanted to tread lightly, careful to not give him the wrong idea that he couldn’t speak to her about something so personal.
Twilight looked down at the gap between them, a gap larger than what it’d normally be. When it came to personal space, they kept it at a friendship level, or as close as friends could get since he and she were both affectionate people in general. So the size of that gap between them scared her a little.
But Twilight didn’t want to bother his personal bubble just yet. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Twilight decided to ask, in a very soft tone. She surprised herself with this one too, her voice had never sounded like that before. That wasn’t to say she had never softly spoken to someone, she just didn’t think her voice could be so delicate.
Flash paused. “Maybe? I don’t know. I just… I’ve never tried doing that before, you know? Puking out a meal after I-I just had it?” He choked on his words, to which he audibly gulped and wet his lips so it would be easier for him to speak. Twilight’s hand instinctively climbed to her pocket, though she wasn’t sure why when a water bottle wouldn’t fit into her pocket anyways.
“Do you want some water? To clear your mouth?” she added.
Flash hesitated, cheeks a little red. Then he nodded. For those few seconds, before she got up to get her bag, he looked at her in a way she couldn’t describe but it was warm. Thankful? Soft and almost vulnerable. She slid her water bottle out of the side pocket of her bag and then jogged back to her seat.
“You don’t have to sky,” she said.
And just as she knew Flash would, he skied from her bottle, washing the water from one side of his mouth to the other, gulping it down after. He let out a sigh through his nose that sounded freer and then handed it back to her.
“Thanks.”
She grinned at him. Once she placed the bottle to the side, she took the opportunity to slide a little closer to the boy, just enough to not invade his space but enough to let him know he could ask for a hug.
The thing was, Flash never asked for anything he wanted. It was only until the chance came to him that he’d take what was given. She admired that in him but also couldn’t help but worry; he kept so much to himself that he probably really wanted, needed even, but was too scared to ask. Twilight noticed it every single time. She just didn’t know how to get it out of him.
“You’re okay to continue?” she asked. Her hand closest to him twitched in temptation to lift it up and hold his shoulder, but she wouldn’t do it without his permission. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
Flash gently shook his head. “I wanna talk about it.” Twilight squinted for a second at his eyes. They were a little red and smaller. Red from crying? From tiredness? It felt like a mix of both. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice it until now but the need to let him know it’s okay fizzed inside her chest, becoming more irritable by the second. She really wanted to do something about it. But she had to wait until he asked.
“It’s not really a surprise to you, or anyone really, that I don’t… think so highly of my appearance as everyone else does. I don’t know what I was thinking after I had my lunch either—I-I feel like I’ve been eating too much recently too so I figured—” Flash’s arms slowly wrapped around his stomach.
The inner corners of Twilight’s eyebrows drew in. She wanted to help so badly.
“I don’t know, okay, I’m just…” He pressed his lips into a line. The pain in his expression was too obvious.
Twilight watched him curl himself up more, as if to make himself smaller, his eyes avoiding her gaze. “Can I sit a little closer to you?” she brought herself to ask. Flash looked at her and then at the space between them before nodding softly. Twilight shuffled along the step until their hips were almost touching. Instead of what she expected Flash to do – move away because she might’ve gotten too close – he turned his body to face her more and then rested his head on her shoulder.
“I just hate this voice in my head.” The vibrations of his voice hit her collarbone, more so due to how small his voice was. “It twists everything anyone says about me, or mostly my appearance, and I don’t why, like what’s the use, what do I gain out of it? More modesty?”
As if Flash needed any more modesty. If Twilight could name anyone off the top of her head who she’d consider the least egotistical person on Earth, it’d be Flash.
“I remember my throat and chest hurting so much just from puking out, like what, a ninth of my meal? Maybe that snapped me out of it because it wasn’t even that much and if I were to continue, who knows what pain I’d receive.” His brows furrowed against her shoulder. “But Twi, I-I… my head was in such a fucking mess, and it doesn’t help that my opinion on my self-image wasn’t high to begin with.” 
Her hand on his shoulder wrapped around his neck, the other climbing up his other arm. Just by the sound of his voice cracking, Twilight’s eyes couldn’t help but well up. She always wished she could control her emotions and be there for her friends but seeing them upset only ruined her too.
And all in all, if she was being honest? The fastest she had ever started tearing up was from seeing Flash Sentry cry. And those were from when she caught him from afar. Now that he was literally right by her side, she knew she would take her less than a few seconds until she collapsed with him.
“There was this argument in my head in the bathroom, just going back and forth between telling me this is wrong and telling me this is will help me and it felt so loud, like those arguments your parents have and they try to drag you into it, telling you to pick a side, it was overwhelming and—”
And that’s how Timber found you. Twilight flinched when Flash cut himself off mid-rant, taking a quick glance at Twilight before sighing out what felt like bottled up exhaustion. I must’ve said that aloud, Twilight internally groaned.
She wasn’t there for the entire thing but from what Timber told them when Flash was with the nurse, he found his closest best friend at the brink of breaking down by the sink. Him trying to figure out what was wrong only made Flash spill over that brink. Twilight saw glimpses of it when peaking into the boy’s bathroom. She had been behind Sunset who looked completely mortified, almost ready to storm into the boy’s bathroom to comfort him, completely forgetting about the school rules.
Timber didn’t look so better himself. He looked like he had been through a haunted house three times consecutively and shock had struck him permanently. She knew that face of helplessness, of how the fuck did I not catch onto my best friend going through this? That feeling wasn’t a stranger to her either.
She gazed down at the boy. He was holding back.
After slightly hissing at the tears tickling her cheeks and wiping them away with her sleeve – well, an attempt of wiping them away with her sleeve – she rubbed Flash’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Flash…” she started. “Do you want to cry right now?”
Simply mentioning the word cry caused her eyes to fill up with tears again. Her throat was tight from the knot in her chest and her head was desperately trying to get rid of it but she ignored it.
Wide-eyed, she stared at him when he shook his head.
“What do you mean?”
“I… I don’t want you to be upset because of me.”
Twilight’s expression switched to one of bafflement. “Why wouldn’t I be upset? I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
“That’s the thing; if seeing me hurt hurts you then I don’t want that,” he said with another strained chuckle.
“It’s not about me, Flash,” she said and was about to continue before:
“I-I know… I…” he ended up giving up his end of the argument since he couldn’t find the words to say. She knew what he meant without him having to put it into words, causing Twilight to freeze for a second.
“You don’t want to see me hurt because it makes you feel like you’re burdening me?” she finished for him. Her brain halted for a minute, shocked she managed to put that into words. It halted for even longer when Flash nodded. Huh. We really aren’t that different, are we?
Twilight’s hand moved to wipe that tear that finally broke from Flash’s eyes and then halted, deciding to let it fall down his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Flash said.
“Shh,” she immediately said after, almost like she was interrupting him. “Don’t. It’s okay. Do you want anything from me?” Twilight felt the word hug bubble in her throat and the urge grew larger.
“Um…” His gaze fell to his lap and he squirmed around for a second. “I…”
Twilight wished she could get rid of the internalised stigma Flash had about being a taker; the boy gave so much without limits, to the point where she thought that might be a contributing factor to that stigma he had. She took in Flash’s features and how he was trying to say what he wanted but it wasn’t coming out.
We really aren’t that different, are we?
“Do you want a hug?” she asked, her voice so quiet she’d be surprised if he actually heard it.
Flash, of course knowing him, did and a smile broke from his lips, completely contradictory to his eyes glossing over rather quickly. Before she could see proper, clear tears roll down his face, Twilight wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. She rested her cheek against the top of his head, feeling his arms wrap around her waist.
She heard his little, barely audible sobs and couldn’t hold back her own tears. Twilight slid her own glasses off, held onto them by the arm as she hugged Flash a little tighter.
“I-I’m… I just need someone to tell me it’ll be okay, someone to show me I’m okay the way I am because people just telling me doesn’t do shit,” he muttered, words blotchy from crying.
Twilight thought about all the times people have complimented Flash on his body and knowing well the boy couldn’t take compliments, it wasn’t because he was catfishing for more (he would never), the compliments just didn’t get to his head. 
He had gotten so many under Twilight’s watch and who knew how many he got during family functions, clubs and parties outside Canterlot, times where he was in someone else’s bed. He, of course, knew people found him handsome, pretty, any adjective describing beauty.
But… 
“I w-want someone to teach me how to believe I’m as good as they tell me, too.” Flash’s tears fell onto Twilight’s collarbone.
The air was heavy around them, Twilight’s sight blurry from both tears and no sight but she could feel. Feel Flash tremble in her arms. Twilight presses her lips as more tears cascade down the side of her face, some disappearing in her curly bangs.
“I-I know I seem like I want answers right now…” Flash said, lifting his head up a fraction, though not enough for Twilight to fully see him. Not that she could bring herself to, anyway.
“Doesn’t everyone?” Twilight replied with a light shrug of her shoulder.
It made Flash chuckle at least. “But really—I know you can’t give me answers so I’m not asking for it. I just…”
“Want comfort and someone to listen to you… right?”
Flash nodded. His soft hair brushed against her damp cheek. She stayed quiet as Flash sniffed. Silence brushed over them, thick with the discomfort from the conversation. Her right hand came up to Flash’s head, tempted to hug him tighter. Twilight had cried into his chest multiple times and she was more than okay for him to do the same too.
The two flinched when the first end of school bell rang, both looking up at the red bell across the room. Twilight sighed, turning her head to Flash.
“Do you want anything else?” she asked, still softly.
He hummed lowly, as if deciding what he wanted. Then, without saying anything else, he tightened his arms around Twilight. She understood.
Hold me just a little longer.
Twilight tightened her arms around him too.
Of course.
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