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rosecastiello · 6 months ago

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Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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rosecastiello · 6 months ago

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RUN FROM ME DARLIN, YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR LIFE | MASTERLIST

Pairing | Poly!141 x Black Widow Reader

Summary | You show up on base to give your sister, Kate Laswell, some information and then leave. That was your plan anyway, but you miss the helicopter ride home and weirdly there isn’t another one again for weeks. While you’re stuck there, your sister’s team gets a little too attached to you and suddenly they’re everywhere you look. Like they’re waiting for you. So you do the only thing you can; run and hide.

Tags | Dark themes, possessive 141, stalking, kidnapping, murder, smut, the guys being down right sickening on their level of want, special guest character, reader has a sad past, child neglect, reader becomes a killer as a child, fighting, blood, mentions of torture, mentions of a hysterectomy not reader, alcohol, drugs (chloroform).

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Fin

Divider credit - @cafekitsune

Tags | @fruitymoonbeams-blog

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rosecastiello · 6 months ago

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rosecastiello · 6 months ago

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Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted!

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the opposite side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her in, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s currently the standard in teenagedom,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now. Leaving her in the lurch only for her to seek answers by prying into their life.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim had come to a halt, now watching from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it for you offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announces, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention finally returning to the monitor once again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises. Even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie. Therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-” Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exag-”Bruce interrupts, turning to face them and argrue.

“Bruce-” Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered. With one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns back from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background feed of the Manor’s security cameras linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” He demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally lifts his gaze to take in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more fuel to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-” he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your public files and digital footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks thoughtfully, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-” all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-”

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the Just-” he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-”

“-just business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll hav-’

Splash!

A dissatisfied shriek escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dami-" looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy, Billy, staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away outside the door; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“Shit! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, saying something in a language you don’t recognize, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying. That was the whole reason you were down here in the first place, after all.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You hear Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too-”Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond jokingly, not thinking about it too much. It is family movie night. After all, you’re focused, wanting this popcorn to be good, not a burnt pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-”Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-” He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

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rosecastiello · 6 months ago

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05 | UNTOUCHED MEMORIES

m.list | prev | next

Things between you and Damian weren’t perfect, but they were better. Slightly better.

Since that day, the tension that used to hang heavy between you had softened, just a little. He no longer avoided you like the plague, nor did he try to dismiss you every chance he got. Sure, there were still moments where you clashed—Damian was Damian, after all—but now, it didn’t feel like an outright war. It was more… playful. Almost.

He still had his sharp remarks, but they didn’t cut as deep anymore. And you? You’d give them right back, though with less heat than before. It was oddly satisfying to watch him bristle, his retorts coming slower and more thoughtful, like he was beginning to actually enjoy the verbal sparring. Though he definitely wouldn’t admit that.

One day, you decided to test the waters further.

You found Damian in the sitting room, a book in his hands and Titus curled up at his feet. He didn’t look up as you approached, though you knew he’d already noticed you.

“Hey, Damian,” you said, holding the plate out in front of you.

He finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “What is it now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. I made these with Alfred. Thought you might want to try them.”

He eyed the plate suspiciously, like it might explode if he touched it. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you offering me one?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral. “What’s your angle?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “No angle. If you don’t want them, you don’t have to take them. Simple.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want them,” Damian said quickly, his tone defensive.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh? So you do want them?”

He scoffed, snatching the plate from your hands like you might change your mind. “I’ll try them. But don’t expect me to praise you if they’re subpar.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Damian took a deliberate bite, his expression carefully guarded as he chewed. You watched him closely, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you asked.

He paused, his lips twitching ever so slightly before he schooled his face back into indifference. “Adequate.”

You snorted. “Adequate, huh? That’s basically high praise coming from you.”

“Tt. Don’t let it go to your head,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop eating.

You grinned, shaking your head as you turned to leave. “Enjoy them, Damian. Or don’t. Whatever.”

As you walked away, you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch: “I will.”

You didn’t look back, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

No, things between you and Damian weren’t perfect. But this? This was progress.

Stephanie twirled her mug between her hands, the steam curling into the air as she sat perched on the couch at the Clocktower. Across the room, Cassandra sat cross-legged on the floor, cleaning and reassembling her grappling gun with quiet precision. The rhythmic sound of Cassandra’s movements usually put the blonde at ease, but today, she couldn’t shake the restless thoughts spinning in her head.

“I don’t get it,” Stephanie muttered finally, breaking the silence.

Cass didn’t look up, but the subtle tilt of her head told Steph she was listening.

“It’s been almost three weeks,” Steph continued, gesturing with her mug like it emphasized her point. “Three weeks since (Name) quit, and I haven’t seen her here. Not once. No check-ins, no training, no anything. She just… stopped. Like she wasn’t serious about any of it to begin with.”

Cass paused her movements, her sharp gaze flicking to Steph. “Serious..?”

“Y’know, serious about being Batgirl..!” Steph exclaimed, setting her mug on a table with a clink. “I mean, she was so into it. Always had to be the best, always trying to prove she could do everything better than me. And now? Nothing. It’s like she dropped off the face of the earth.”

Cass raised an eyebrow, her hands moving again to tighten the grappling gun’s grip. “You miss her.”

“What? No! I—” Steph’s protest faltered under Cass’s calm stare. “Okay, maybe a little. But that’s not the point.” She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “It’s just so unlike her. You know what I mean?”

Cass considered this for a moment, then nodded. “She fights. Always fights. And she doesn’t stop.”

“Exactly!” Steph said, throwing her hands up. “She’s stubborn as hell. She’d never just quit without a reason. It’s like she’s a completely different person all of a sudden.”

Cass’s gaze stayed steady on Steph, her expression unreadable. “Maybe something happened.”

Steph frowned. “Like what?”

Cass furrowed her eyebrows, setting her grappling gun aside and leaning back on her hands. “I don’t know. But something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Steph admitted, slumping against the back of the couch. “I mean, yeah, we weren’t exactly besties or whatever, but we spent enough time together. I thought I had her figured out. Now I feel like I don’t know her at all.”

Cass tilted her head. “Did you? Know her?”

Steph opened her mouth to respond but stopped. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. Most of her interactions with you had been competitive or snarky, sure, but there had been moments—rare ones—where it felt like there was something deeper under the surface. She just hadn’t taken the time to dig for it.

“I don’t know,” Steph admitted, her voice quieter. “Maybe I didn’t. But I thought I did.”

Cass nodded slowly, as if that answer didn’t surprise her.

“What about you..?” Steph asked, turning the question back on Cass. “What do you think of all this?”

Cass didn’t answer immediately. She sat in thoughtful silence, her dark eyes focused on nothing in particular. “Not sure,” she said finally. “It feels… off. Like she’s hiding.”

Steph frowned. “Hiding what?”

“I… don’t know.”

The room fell silent as Steph mulled over Cass’s words. For all your bravado and stubborness, there had always been something raw about you, like you were desperate to hold onto something—anything. Maybe Cass was right. Maybe something had happened—something you didn’t want anyone to know.

Stephanie sighed, reaching for her mug again. “You’re probably right. She’s hiding something. But what exactly is she hiding, that’s the question.” She took a sip of her coffee, grimacing slightly at the bitterness. “I hate not knowing. It’s driving me nuts.”

Cass offered a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You care.”

“Of course I care!” Steph shot back, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, yeah, she’s annoying and stubborn and always has to prove she’s better than me, but…” She trailed off, her voice softening. “She’s still one of us. Right?”

Cass nodded, the smile lingering.

Stephanie leaned back again, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll try talking to her. Or something. I don’t know. This is just… weird. It doesn’t feel right. To just leave things as it is.”

Cass watched Stephanie closely, her quiet curiosity cutting through the lingering silence. “What was it like?” she asked, her voice calm but insistent. “Between you and her?”

Steph froze, mid-sip of her coffee. Her first instinct was to deflect, to brush the question off with a joke or a sarcastic remark. But Cass’s gaze—steady, patient, unyielding—made it clear she wasn’t going to let it slide.

“What do you mean, ‘what was it like?’” Steph muttered, setting her mug down with more force than necessary.

“You and (Name),” Cass said, gesturing vaguely with her hand. “Before all this. When she was still Batgirl. When you were still Spoiler. When you became Batgirl as well.”

Steph shifted uncomfortably, her lips pressing into a thin line.

What was it like?

“It was… complicated,” she said finally.

It was anything but normal.

Cass tilted her head, waiting for her to elaborate. Steph sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

Stephanie could still remember her first few nights as Spoiler, still rough around the edges and carrying the weight of Cluemaster, her father’s, shadow on her shoulders. She’d been furious when she found out after he claimed to be “rehabilitated”, he actually returned to crime instead, leaving no clues behind this time. She knew then and there that something had to be done—that she had to do something—to stop her father. So, she made her Spoiler costume, and set out to stop her father. That night, she’d intercepted one of his coded messages and had made the decision to spoil yet another of his schemes—alone.

It hadn’t gone according to plan.

The warehouse was dark and cold, lit only by a few dim bulbs hanging from the rafters. Stephanie had crept in quietly, her heart pounding as she hid in the shadows. The stolen tech Cluemaster planned to sell sat piled high in crates, guarded by a dozen armed men. She’d hoped to sneak in, plant some evidence for the police, and leave unnoticed. Instead, she’d tripped a motion sensor and found herself surrounded.

She fought back with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. Her moves were sloppy, unrefined, and born of sheer desperation. A blow to her ribs sent her sprawling across the floor, and she barely managed to roll out of the way of another thug’s steel-toed boot. Just when it seemed like she was out of options, a flash of movement from the rafters caught her attention.

You arrived like a force of nature, swooping down in your Batgirl suit, taking out two of the goons before they even knew what hit them. For someone who appeared composed and confident, Stephanie noticed quickly that your movements weren’t as fluid as you likely hoped they were. You were good—better than her, no question—but your hits didn’t land with perfect precision, and you occasionally stumbled, as though still learning the weight of your cape.

Still, the two of you managed to fight off the group, leaving the thugs groaning on the ground. Stephanie was leaning against one of the crates, clutching her side and breathing heavily, when you turned to her.

“Who are you?” you demanded, stepping forward.

“I’m…” She hesitated, brushing off her torn sleeve and trying to stand straighter. “I’m Spoiler.”

“Never heard of you.” You crossed your arms, looking her up and down. “What are you even doing here? Who are you working with?”

Stephanie groaned, more from frustration than pain. “I’m not working with anyone.”

“Then why are you here?” You gestured to the tied-up henchmen. “This isn’t exactly a neighborhood bake sale.”

“I’m here to stop my father,” she snapped, throwing her arms up.

That made you pause. “Your… father?”

She sighed, already regretting the slip. “Yeah. My father.”

You frowned, the pieces slowly clicking together. “Wait… you’re Cluemaster’s daughter?”

“Congrats, you solved the mystery, want a prize for that?” she muttered sarcastically, shrugging your hand off her arm when you instinctively tried to grab her.

You stepped back, your stance cautious now, your expression wary. “Why are you trying to stop him?”

“Because someone has to.” Stephanie said, her voice rising. “Because I don’t want people to get hurt because of him. Is that good enough for you, Batgirl?”

You stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “You shouldn’t even be out here. This isn’t a game.”

“I’m not treating it like one!” she shot back. “I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” you replied bluntly, but your voice softened after a moment. “But… I guess I can see why you’re doing it.”

Stephanie braced herself for you to knock her out or drag her to Batman, but instead, you just grabbed the nearest thug and tied him up.

“You’re not going to say anything?” she asked, suspicious.

You didn’t look at her. “Not tonight. But don’t make me regret it.”

And with that, you had disappeared into the night, leaving Stephanie confused and to her own thoughts, unsure of what to think about you, Batgirl.

Why did you let her go?

It didn’t make sense.

Stephanie leaned back against the nearest crate, ignoring the dull ache in her ribs as her mind spiraled. Was it pity? Did you feel sorry for her something?

The thought stung more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t need anyone’s pity—least of all from someone who’d clearly been at this vigilante thing longer than her. Or maybe—you just thought she wasn’t worth the effort of turning in.

Over the next few weeks—for some reason—Stephanie kept on running into you. Sometimes it was because you were actively following her, and sometimes it was sheer coincidence. Each time, the dynamic between the two of you shifted slightly.

“I don’t need your help,” Steph had snapped when you intervened in another one of her plans to foil her father’s, her voice tinged with irritation. She’d bitten off more than she could chew, but the last thing she wanted was you swooping in to save her.

“You’re welcome,” you’d replied coolly, barely glancing at her as you tied up the last of the thugs.

Steph had bristled. “I had it handled.”

“Sure you did,” you’d said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s why you were about two seconds away from getting your head bashed in.”

This cycle had continued for weeks—an endless back-and-forth of barbed comments and unspoken challenges.

But then there were quieter moments. Like this one night—you both got stuck during a freezing rainstorm, huddled together under a flimsy overhang.

“You’re shivering,” you’d noted, tossing your extra cloak over her shoulders without a second thought.

Steph had blinked at you, surprised. “…Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” you’d said, leaning back against the wall and pulling your own cloak tighter around you.

That same night she’d cornered you on the rooftop after the two of you left evidence for the police and Batman to find to deal with Cluemaster.

“Why?” she’d asked, crossing her arms. “Why’d you go along with my plan instead of running to Batman?”

You’d glanced at her, your expression unreadable. “Because you’re not like him,” you’d said simply.

“Cluemaster, I mean. And because… I do think you mean it. The whole ‘trying to stop my father’ thing.”

For a moment, Stephanie had been speechless. She hadn’t expected that kind of answer—or the quiet sincerity behind it.

She hadn’t expected that. Not from a Bat. They weren’t exactly known for handing out compliments—or trust. Especially not to someone like her.

But then again, from the moment she met you, you hadn’t exactly acted the way she thought someone trained under Batman would. Not that she would know what that was like.

Stephanie’s arms dropped to her sides as she studied you, standing there under the faint glow of the Gotham skyline. You didn’t look like you were second-guessing your words or regretting them. You were calm like you’d just stated a fact. Like you really meant it.

Stephanie felt the knot in her chest tighten. What if you were wrong? What if she was like him? She hadn’t exactly proven otherwise had she?

Sure, she was trying to stop him now, but that didn’t erase the fact that she was his daughter. His blood ran through her veins, no matter how much she hated it.

But then, there was another thought, quieter and harder to ignore. What if you weren’t wrong? What if—just maybe—you’d seen something in her she couldn’t see herself?

Stephanie didn’t know what terified her more then—the idea that someone believed in her, or the possibility that you might be right,

She glanced at you again, half-expecting you to take it back or brush it off like it didn’t matter. But you didn’t. You just stood there, calm and steady, like your words had been obvious all along.

And for a moment, she let herself believe it. Just a little.

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice barely audible, as she looked away. She didn’t know if you heard her or if you’d even care, but it felt like something she had to say.

When she turned back around though, you were gone.

Stephanie blinked, her breath catching for a moment as she scanned the empty rooftop. “Really?” She muttered, dragging a hand down her face.

“Was that a ‘dramatic exit’ thing, or do all you bats have to disappear every time someone tries to say thanks?”

“Afterwards…” Steph began, her voice soft. “I didn’t really get to see much of her.”

Cass looked up briefly, her head tilting in silent acknowledgment.

“I mean, even after I met you,” Steph continued, “I didn’t see much of her. I thought we were chill. You know?”

Cass’s hands paused over the grappling gun. “Thought?”

Steph hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. Her gaze fell to her mug, and she let out a slow breath. “I guess… everything kind of changed when Bruce ‘died.’” She set the mug on the table and leaned back against the couch. “When you quit being Batgirl, and gave me your costume to take over you.”

Cass blinked, her expression neutral but her body language subtly shifting. “Oh.”

Steph turned to face her fully, brows knitting together. “I thought things would still be fine, but no. Not when Dick and Babs allowed me to take up the Batgirl mantle.”

Stephanie had found you on the rooftop of an old apartment building, your silhouette outlined against the Gotham skyline. The wind cut through the air, sharp and cold, but you didn’t flinch, your posture rigid as though the weather didn’t touch you.

“I figured you’d be here,” she’d said softly, walking closer, the crunch of gravel under her boots breaking the silence.

“What do you want, Stephanie?” Your voice was hoarse and low, but your tone was sharp enough to stop her mid-step.

Steph froze, the weight of the Batgirl costume suddenly feeling heavier than ever. There was something in the way you said her name—so cold, so distant—it made her chest tighten.

“I just… wanted to talk.”

You let out a dry, humourless scoff, still not turning to face her.

Stephanie clenched her fists at her sides, willing herself to continue. “Look, I know you’re upset. I don’t know why Dick decided to bench you from being Batgirl, but—“

“Oh, you don’t know?” You spun around, finally facing her, your eyes burning with frustration. “It’s because of you, Stephanie. He benched me so you could play hero. He chose you. You. Over me. He’s saying I wasn’t good enough to be Batgirl. His Batgirl.”

Stephanie’s heart sank at the venom in your voice. She took a step closer, shaking her head. “That’s not true… Cass wanted me to take over her as Batgirl because—“

“Because what?” you snapped, voice rising. “Because she thought I couldn’t handle it? Because she thought you deserved it more than I do?”

“No!” Steph said quickly, her voice breaking slightly. “Because she thought I needed it. And maybe she’s right. But that doesn’t mean—“

“It doesn’t mean what?” you interrupted bitterly. “That it wasn’t a slap in the face? That it didn’t rip away the only thing I had left?”

Your voice broke, just slightly, and Stephanie’s heart clenched as she watched your walls crack under thr weight of your emotions.

“My father is dead, Stephanie. The one thing that he gave me that meant something, the one thing that I thought could truly be mine, was ripped away. Do you know how much it hurts to watch you parade in that suit like it didn’t mean anything to me? Like I don’t mean anything?”

“It’s not like that,” Steph shot back, her voice more desperate. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I never wanted to hurt you—“

“Just stop,” you interrupted, turning away from her again. Your shoulders were stiff, your voice cutting like ice.

“I don’t care what you wanted. I don’t care what excuses you or Barbara or Dick have. They decided you were better than me. That I wasn’t good enough. That I was expendable.”

“That’s not true,” Steph said desperately.

“Oh sure,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You somehow convinced Dick and Barbara to let you play Batgirl while I’m sidelined and tossed aside. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t know what this would do to me.”

Stephanie felt frustration bubbling under the surface. “Do you think I have it easy? Barbara doubted me from the start! She didn’t think I’d survive as Batgirl. She only gave me a chance because I refused to back down—“

“So then why did they replace me?” you snapped, your eyes glistening with tears you refused to let fall. “Why did they bench me while you got to take my place? Even Cassandra seems to think you’re better than me.”

Steph froze. “That’s—“

“Am I really that replaceable?” you interrupted, your voice trembling.

Stephanie opened her mouth, but no words came out.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Save it, Stephanie. I don’t care what their reasons are. You want the mantle? Fine. It’s yours. But don’t come here pretending you didn’t know what this would do to me.”

Stephanie took a shaky step forward. “I’m not trying to—“

“I’ll prove them wrong,” you interrupted, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ll prove I’m better than you. Better than any of them thought I could be. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Stephanie stared at you, stunned, as your words hung heavy in the air.

“So enjoy being Batgirl, Stephanie,” you said coldly. “And stay the hell away from me.”

Steph stood there for a long moment, frozen, as your words hung in the air. She wanted to say more, to fix this somehow, but the look in your eyes told her there was nothing she could do.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night as you turned back to the skyline, the cold wind biting at your skin.

Stephanie’s hands tightened around her mug as she replayed the memory in her mind.

“From then on,” Steph said, her voice soft, “she did everything she could to one-up me. Patrol routes, takedowns, intel—anything. It was like she was trying to prove herself, not just to Dick and Barbara, but to me, too.”

Cass tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

Steph hesitated before asking, “Why… didn’t you seem bothered by her quitting? Didn’t it… I don’t know, feel weird to you?”

Cass stayed silent, her hands stilling over the grappling gun.

“Cass?” Stephanie pressed.

Cassandra sighed softly. “If it’s what she wanted, then everyone should respect it.”

“But isn’t it weird? That she suddenly quit?”

Cass’s gaze flickered. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice calm. “But it’s better if she doesn’t continue this path.”

Steph’s brow furrowed. “Better? What do you mean?”

Cass hesitated, her voice even. “She wasn’t built for this life.”

Steph blinked, confused. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

Cass looked at her, her voice quieter but resolute. “I’ve always seen it. A… blockage. In her body language. When she fights, when she moves, it’s always there. It never goes away.”

Steph tilted her head, confused. “A blockage? What does that even mean..?”

“It’s like… a wall she can’t break through.” Cass explained, her tone calm but firm. “No matter what she does, it stops her from reaching her full potential. And that wall… it’s dangerous. For her.”

“But she’s strong—“ Steph opened her mouth to protest, but Cass cut her off, her tone firmer.

“She’s strong,” Cass agreed, “but not for this. That blockage is something she can’t overcome. And if she keeps pushing herself, it’ll hurt her. Worse than being benched. Worse than losing the mantle. She should live a normal life. Away from this.”

Steph stared at Cass, her confusion shifting into an uneasy understanding. The weight of Cass’s words settling heavily in her chest. Cass’s ability to read body language was unparalleled—if anyone could see something like that, it was her.

“But…” Steph started, trailing off, her voice uncertain.

Cass shook her head, her voice soft but final. “This life—it would break her. It’s better this way. For her.”

Stephanie leaned back into the couch, the weight of Cass’s words pressing down on her. For the first time, she felt a flicker of doubt—not about you, but about what this life demanded of you.

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Her thoughts swirled as she tried to piece it all together. Cassandra had always been the most perceptive person Stephanie had ever known, able to read people in ways that felt almost supernatural. If she said there was a “blockage,” some invisible wall holding you back, Steph believed her. She had no reason not to.

But why hadn’t Cass told you about it? Why hadn’t she tried to help you work through it instead of letting you walk away? Cass wasn’t the type to give up on people, so why had she just… let you go?

Stephanie’s grip tightened on the mug. She thought back to the nights she’d watched you push yourself too far, the way you’d thrown yourself into patrols and fights with a reckless determination that bordered on desperation. It made sense now, in a way. You weren’t just trying to be good enough—you were trying to be better than everyone’s doubts.

“I don’t…” Stephanie hesitated, her words faltering. “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

Cassandra didn’t respond, her silence stretching between them like the distant hum of the city outside.

The weight of the conversation pressed on Steph’s chest, but then a stray thought flickered in her mind, pulling her out of her tangled emotions. She striaghted slightly, her brow furrowing.

“Wait. Where’s Barbara anyway?” she asked, glancing around the Clocktower.

Cass tilted her head, thinking. “Not sure,” she said simply. “I think… she said she had plans. With someone.”

Steph raised an eyebrow. “Plans? With who?”

Cass shrugged, her expression giving nothing away.

Steph groaned, flopping back against the couch. “Great. So now Barbara is being cryptic too. What is it with you Bat people and your secrets?”

The lunch spot was cozy but buzzing with just enough noise to drown out any awkward silences—though not nearly enough to mask the tension sitting between you and Barbara. She sat across from you, her gaze flickering between the menu in her hands and you.

You should have refused the lunch. Should have claimed you were busy. But the text Barbara sent you left you with no real excuse:

“Lunch? 1 PM? Don’t pretend you’re busy, I know your schedule. ☕”

And so here you were, caught in what felt like an ambush.

As the server came over, you placed your order for a black coffee and a bagel.

Barbara blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Black coffee?” she repeated after the server left, her brows slightly raised.

You glanced up from your phone. “Yeah?”

“I just… didn’t think you’d be the type.”

It took you a moment to register her confusion, but then it hit you. Back when you were sixteen, you hated coffee—especially black coffee. You’d always opted for sugary drinks or anything sweet enough to mask the bitterness. Sixteen year old you would’ve gagged at the bitterness of black coffee. But time had changed you, as had many sleepless nights spent staring at mission briefs or reports, that you’ve gotten used to the taste of coffee.

“Just need all the energy I can get,” you replied, plastering on a small smile.

Barbara hummed, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to push further.

The two of you fell into a strange silence, interrupted only by the soft clinking of cutlery and quiet chatter around you. Barbara shifted in her wheelchair, wondering why this felt so… awkward.

Were you always this… standoffish?

After what felt like forever, Barbara finally spoke up. “I heard about what happened to your friend.”

Your fingers stilled against the edge of your cup. Oh.

Barbara glanced at you, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. That he got caught up in everything. I should have been more thorough.”

Your lips twitched downward, your voice coming out sharper than intended. “Yeah. You should have.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Barbara’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the honesty of your tone catching her off guard.

Silence again. This time heavier.

The tension thickened between you both, the silence growing louder by the second. Barbara swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your words settle uncomfortably in her chest.

She opened her mouth again, determined to steer the conversation somewhere less hostile. “How’s school?”

You shrugged, your tone clipped. “It’s alright.”

“Are classes okay? Teachers good?”

“They’re fine.”

Barbara frowned, but she pressed on. “And your friends? Have you made any new ones?”

“No, not really.”

This wasn’t working. Every answer you gave was short, distant, like you were putting up walls. It felt unnatural, almost deliberate. Barbara wasn’t sure if she should press harder or back off entirely.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” she finally asked, unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. Was this about your friend getting hurt? Was this about her not being quick enough to prevent the incident? Or was it something else all together?

You paused, but your face remained impassive. “No,” you replied flatly, taking a bite of your bagel.

Barbara’s stomach twisted.

That wasn’t a no.

Not really.

Before she could respond, a voice spoke from behind her.

“Hey, I thought I recognized you two!”

The familiar voice broke through the tension like a wrecking ball, and Barbara couldn’t have been more relieved.

Dick.

He slid into the seat next to Barbara, flashing his trademark grin, though his eyes darted to you with a hint of hesitation. “What’s this? A secret meeting without me?”

Oh, so this was a setup.

Dick must have told Barbara about you avoiding him, and they must have planned this.

You straightened, folding your arms and leaning back into your chair like a wall had gone up.

Dick, oblivious, leaned forward with his usual enthusiasm. “What are you guys talking about? School? Life? Come on, catch me up.”

“Not much to catch up on,” you muttered.

Dick frowned slightly but pressed on, his tone light and cheerful. “You know, I’ve been meaning to hang out with you more, (Name). It feels like we haven’t really spent time together lately.”

You didn’t respond.

“Maybe we could grab dinner sometime?” Dick offered, smiling earnestly. “Or I could swing by the manor and we could—”

“I actually have plans, so I can’t stay,” you said curtly, reaching for your bag.

Dick blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “What? No, wait,” he said quickly, leaning forward. “You just got here.”

“I already told you,” you said, standing up. “I have plans. I can’t hang out.”

“But—”

“Thanks for lunch, Barbara,” you interrupted, sparing Barbara a quick glance before heading for the exit.

“Wait—”

You were already gone.

Dick watched you go, his shoulders sagging as the door swung shut behind you. He slumped back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. For a moment, he was quiet, his usual energy dimmed.

Barbara sighed, setting her cup down. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t have the words. After all, you’d been acting the same way toward her. Aloof, distant, standoffish.

“Don’t take it personally.”

That was all she could come up with.

Dick frowned. “She’s never acted like this before. It’s like she doesn’t even want to be around me.”

Barbara didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. She just wished she had an answer.

“She hates me,” he said quietly, his voice almost drowned by the chatter from the cafe.

Barbara glanced up at the man. “She doesn’t hate you, Dick.”

“Feels like it,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “It’s like every time I try to talk to her, I just make things worse.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “….You don’t think she’s acting like this because of what happened before, do you?”

Barbara leaned back in her chair, her expression softening. “Which part of ‘before’ are we talking about?”

Dick’s gaze dropped to the floor as his mind pulled him back, unbidden, to those first turbulent days after Bruce’s death.

The cave had never felt more suffocating, its dim light and cold walls amplifying the tension crackling in the air. You stood across from Dick, your posture tense, fists clenched at your sides.

“You’re benching me?” Your voice was sharp, anger barely masking the hurt underneath.

“It’s not permanent,” Dick said, his tone measured but firm. “You’re not in the right headspace right now—”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, cutting him off. “I’m doing my job, same as I always have.”

“No, you’re not,” Dick countered, his voice tightening. “You’re reckless. You’re putting yourself in danger for no reason.” He took a step closer, his jaw tight. “I’ve seen you out there, and it’s like you’re not even trying to come back in one piece. You’re acting like you have nothing to lose.”

Your heart lurched at his words, but you refused to show it. “Don’t stand there and psychoanalyze me. I’m doing my job. If you think I’m not good enough, just say it.”

Dick let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You’ve been through hell—losing Bruce—your father—and instead of giving yourself time to deal with it, you’re throwing yourself into the field like you have a death wish.”

Your fists clenched tighter. “So what? I’m just supposed to sit around, doing nothing? Let Gotham fall apart while you and Damian play Batman and Robin? I’m trying to help, Dick!”

“I know you are,” Dick said, his voice softening, but there was a steel edge to it. “But this isn’t helping. Not like this. You’re going to get yourself killed, and I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

“You can’t what?” you demanded, stepping closer, your voice trembling with anger. “You can’t trust me? Can’t rely on me? What, am I just some burden to you now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Dick snapped, his frustration finally boiling over. His voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls. “I’m saying I care about you, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you destroy yourself like this.”

The raw emotion in his voice caught you off guard, but it only fueled the fire burning in your chest. “You don’t care about me,” you spat. “If you did, you’d let me do what I’m good at instead of sidelining me. You’re becoming just like father—deciding what’s best for everyone else without asking.”

Dick flinched at the comparison, but he recovered quickly, his expression hardening. “This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you alive. You’re grieving, and it’s clouding your judgment. Until you can think clearly, I can’t let you keep putting yourself in danger.”

“You can’t let me?” you repeated, your voice cracking as your anger reached its peak. “You’re not my father, Dick. You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do!”

“No, I’m not your father,” Dick shot back, his voice low but sharp. “But I am your brother. And I am Batman now. So it’s my call.”

The words landed like a blow, cutting through the air between you. Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your emotions warring inside you—anger, betrayal, grief, all swirling together until you couldn’t separate one from the other.

“Fine,” you said finally, your voice cold and flat. “Do what you want. Bench me. Replace me. I don’t care.”

Dick’s expression flickered, a crack in his resolve, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your heel and stormed out of the cave, your footsteps echoing behind you.

The memory twisted in Dick’s chest like a knife. A few days later, he’d seen someone in Cassandra’s Batgirl costume, her movements unfamiliar, the seams of the mantle not quite fitting yet.

“Tsk, tsk. Sloppy.” Damian had commented.

“How is this the woman who led the League of Assassins? The “warrior” who ran the outsiders at father’s command?” he had asked sharply.

“You’re right..” Dick muttered, narrowing his eyes as he realized who it was.

“She’s not as good as the other batgirls..”

When he confronted Barbara about mentoring Stephanie, the conversation had been anything but calm. She believed in Stephanie, believed Gotham needed a Batgirl. He’d been reluctant, furious that Barbara had allowed Stephanie to go around Gotham wearing that Bat symbol on her chest when she’s not prepared for what the city has become in the absence of Batman. But he’d eventually agreed, seeing how much Stephanie needed this, seeing how much Barbara needed this too.

But when you found out? That had been the breaking point.

The sound of hurried, angry footsteps echoed through the Batcave, snapping Dick’s attention from the monitor. He turned just as you came storming in, radiating anger.

“Are you serious?” you demanded, your voice sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of the cave’s machinery.

Dick sighed, already bracing himself for the confrontation. He should have expected this, but the fury radiating off you still caught him off guard.

“Stephanie’s Batgirl now?” you said, your words laced with disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“She’s doing good work,” Dick said, keeping his tone neutral, though he could already feel the tension building.

“She’s replacing me!” you snapped. “Neither you nor Barbara even thought to talk to me about this. Not a single word. You didn’t think for one second about how I’d feel.”

“She’s not replacing you, (Name),” Dick said, his voice taut as he tried to keep his composure.

“Yes, she is,” you shot back, your tone rising. “You’re saying I’m not good enough. That I’m not fit to be Batgirl anymore.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Dick countered, his patience beginning to fray.

“Then what is it about?” you challenged, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you decided I wasn’t worth it. You didn’t even give me a chance to prove I’m not—”

“You don’t have to prove anything,” Dick interrupted sharply.

“Clearly, I do!” you spat. “Because you didn’t just bench me. You handed over my mantle to someone else, like I didn’t matter. Like I’m just… disposable!”

“That’s not what happened,” Dick said, his voice rising. “This isn’t about replacing you—it’s about keeping you alive!”

You froze for a split second, stunned, before your expression hardened. “Keeping me alive? What the hell are you talking about?”

Dick exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Like I already told you, you’ve been reckless. Ever since Bruce died, you’ve been—”

“Don’t bring father into this,” you interrupted, your voice dangerously low.

“I have to,” Dick snapped back. “Because ever since he died, you’ve been running yourself into the ground, throwing yourself into danger without a second thought. You’re not thinking clearly, and it’s going to get you killed. I had to take you off the streets before it was too late.”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Dick retorted, his voice sharp. “You’re angry, you’re grieving, and you’re not in the right headspace to be doing this. You think I wanted to bench you? I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” you bit out. “And you chose her.”

Dick’s jaw tightened. “Because Gotham needs a Batgirl who can think straight right now. Someone who isn’t running on grief and anger. That’s not you right now.”

“Oh, so Stephanie’s better than me now?” you said bitterly. “I see how it is. First, you replace Tim with Damian—without even talking to him about it—and now you’re doing the same thing to me.”

“This isn’t the same,” Dick said, his voice hardening.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, stepping closer. “You didn’t even ask me. You just made the decision for me. Like I don’t get a say. Like I don’t matter.”

“Tim can handle himself,” Dick shot back, his voice sharp. “Damian can’t. He needed someone to guide him, someone to keep him from spiraling out of control.”

“And I don’t?” you fired back. “I lost my father, Dick. Everything changed the moment he’s gone. The ‘normalcy’ I had was no longer there. But instead of helping me, instead of guiding me, you just… tossed me aside. Like I wasn’t worth the effort.”

“That’s not what I did,” Dick said, his voice quieter but no less firm.

“Then what did you do?” you demanded, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

“I’m trying to protect you!” Dick shouted, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t see it, but you’re not okay. You think you can just power through this, but you can’t. Not like this. If I let you keep going, you’d—” He stopped himself, his voice catching.

“I’d what?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

Dick’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at you with a rawness in his expression you weren’t expecting. “You’d get yourself killed,” he said softly. “And I couldn’t live with that. Especially when I’m in charge.”

“Don’t make this about me being reckless or grieving or whatver you think is wrong with me,” you said through gritted teeth.

“It is about that!” Dick snapped, his voice rising even more than before. “You’re spiraling and you know it. You’re not in the right headspace to be out there right now, let alone as Batgirl.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been fine. I’m doing my job—“

“You’re throwing yourself into danger without thinking,” Dick interrupted, his voice sharp. “You’re not acting like someone who’s fine. You’re acting like you don’t care if you live or die, and I’m not going to let you do that under the Batgirl mantle.”

You stared at him, your chest heaving, your emotions a chaotic storm. But instead of softening, instead of understanding, the words only made the ache in your chest worse. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said coldly.

“Someone has to.”

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. “No. You don’t get to make that call, not for me. You didn’t even try to understand. You just made your decision and moved on.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed toward the exit, leaving Dick standing in the empty cave, his hands clenched at his sides.

Dick stood there, staring at the spot where you’d disappeared. His chest felt tight, a mix of guilt and frustration twisting inside him. He didn’t mean to hurt you. That was the last thing he wanted. But letting you keep going out there, in the state you were in, wasn’t something he could allow.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured to himself, but the words rang hollow in the silence of the cave.

Dick stared down at the hot cider Barbara ordered for him, the steam curling lazily above the cup. His voice was low, almost pained, as he broke the silence. “It had been rocky after that,” he admitted, the memory of your argument still sharp in his mind. “Even after I told her not to go out as Batgirl, she disobeyed me. Again and again.”

Barbara didn’t respond, her gaze steady on him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’d bench her, and she’d show up on patrols anyway,” Dick said, his tone bitter with frustration, but there was no hiding the regret beneath it. “At first, I thought she was just trying to prove a point—to prove me wrong—but the more I watched, the more I realized…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “She was just hurting. She threw herself into every fight like it didn’t matter if she came out of it.”

Barbara shifted in her wheelchair, her fingers tightening around her own mug.

Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to admit then, but I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought taking her off the streets would help, but it just pushed her further away. The fights got worse. She wouldn’t talk to me—or if she did, it would get messy. She didn’t trust me anymore.”

He paused, exhaling heavily. “And I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for that.”

Barbara’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she stayed quiet, sensing there was more.

“When Bruce came back, I thought things would go back to normal,” Dick said, forcing a hollow chuckle. “I thought we could reset, you know? Bruce took over as Batman again, I went back to being Nightwing, and she officially went back to being Batgirl. It was like the pieces were all back in place. Like things were the way they were supposed to be.”

Barbara tilted her head slightly, catching the way his voice softened.

“But they weren’t,” he admitted, his voice breaking just slightly. “Not really.” He hesitated, gripping the edge of the table. “(Name) quit three weeks ago. Officially. And… she’s been avoiding me ever since. I see it in the way she leaves before I show up, the way she makes sure she’s never in the same room as me. It’s like—like whatever this is, it’s irreparable. Like I played into her quitting.”

Barbara reached out slightly, her hand brushing against his briefly, grounding him.

“I don’t think I was wrong in my decision,” Dick said, though there was an ache in his voice that made it hard to believe him. “I just—I handled it badly. I hurt her, Babs. And now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to make it right.”

He fell silent, staring into his drink like it held some sort of answer.

Barbara shifted her gaze to him, guilt clawing at her chest as her own memories surfaced.

“I…. should have handled things better too,” she admitted softly, almost to herself.

Dick glanced at her, surprised by the admission.

“I should have been there for her,” Barbara continued, her tone quiet but heavy with regret. “(Name) wasn’t in the right state of mind, and I knew that. I knew it. But I…” She hesitated, gripping her mug tightly. “I chose to focus on Stephanie instead. To guide her. To help her become Batgirl.”

“You were trying to do what was best for everyone,” Dick said gently, but Barbara shook her head.

“No, I wasn’t,” she said firmly. “I was avoiding the harder choice. Helping her—helping someone who was grieving, who was hurt, who needed someone to pull them out of that spiral—that would’ve taken more from me. More patience. More time. And I didn’t give it to her.”

Dick’s expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought Stephanie needed me more,” Barbara said, her voice cracking slightly. “She was trying so hard to prove herself, to find her place—find what she needs. And she deserved my guidance too—but I shouldn’t have left (Name) behind. Not like that.”

The two of them fell silent for a long moment, both lost in their thoughts.

“She deserved better from me,” Barbara murmured, her throat tightening. “And now I have to live with the fact that I didn’t give it to her. I have to live with the fact that I let this gap between us grow so big. And I don’t even know when it happened.”

Dick looked at her, his expression softening. “It’s not too late to fix that.”

Barbara gave him a small, sad smile. “How do you fix something when you don’t even know where to start?”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of her words settled over him. He knew exactly how she felt. But just like her, he didn’t have an answer.

“She’s so… closed off now,” Dick said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know how to approach her anymore. Every time I try, it’s like there’s this wall between us, and I just—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “How did I mess up so bad?”

Barbara studied him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Dick admitted. “I just—I wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to stop putting herself in danger, to stop tearing herself apart over everything she lost back then. But now… I don’t know if I helped her at all. I think I just pushed her further away.”

Barbara placed a hand over his, squeezing it gently. “You did what you thought was right,” she said softly.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Dick muttered, his voice thick with regret.

They sat there in silence for a while, both of them weighed down by the choices they’d made and the consequences they were still grappling with. Neither of them knew how to bridge the gap you’d left behind—but they both knew they couldn’t just leave it like this. Not anymore.

finally done with this chapter lol. it’s been long overdue, so sorry about that 😭😓 i had to rewrite a lot of these scenes so many times because i wasn’t satisfied with it…but hopefully you lot are okay with this chapter haha.. 😬🙃 i slightly adjusted stephanie’s relationship with reader in this compared to the background info i posted because i thought this would fit better with the dynamic i intended for her to have. but for now, have this while i’m going to take a semi-hiatus/break to celebrate my bday which is coming up in 4 days and some other stuff 🫶 next chapter will most likely come out on 28 dec so yeah, until then, i’ll still try to reply to whatever is in my inbox 🫨

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rosecastiello · 10 months ago

Note

Please make a story that zayne is very clingy, sweet , romantic

For Mc

Pretty please

Make it long

Please

Need a food 🥺

Food is served!! (One of these days you guys are gonna see an 'only accepting requests for Rafayel now' post and it'll be Raf hijacking my computer because WHY WAS I CATCHING FEELINGS FOR ZAYNE WHILE WRITING THIS??)

Doctor's Orders

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: Zayne has suggested you skip work today, which isn't suspicious at all...

Genre: Fluff (with a *pinch* of angst)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, some kisses, some mentions of death (just a real mixed bag, you know?)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Do you really have to go?”

Zayne was a lot of things: caring, even doting, but never normally this… clingy.

You pretend not to hear the question, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back as you get ready to leave. You will answer it— you’re not ignoring him— but you have so much to do, and you’ve answered it three times already. Yes, Zayne. It’s work. You finish lacing your boots. And no, Zayne, I can’t get out of it.

And since when was he an advocate of skipping a shift, anyway? Like blood from a stone, he’d calmly pleaded with you to come up with some sort of excuse and you’d stared back, eyes wide, because you didn’t know stones could bleed.

An excuse? You’d repeated in disbelief.

Yes. You could… tell them you’re sick? I could write you a note.

You’d thought it a joke until he drew out a pen and started scrawling something on the nearest scrap of paper. He’d pushed it into your hands, his gaze earnest, as though he were trusting a co-conspirator. Here, he’d said matter-of-factly, you can give it to your captain tomorrow.

The writing was barely legible.

It’s still crinkling in your pocket now: your little ‘get-out-of-your-Sunday-shift-free’ card, courtesy of Doctor Zayne, and yes, you are going to hold onto it, but it’s not for Jenna. It’s for your apartment wall, where you’ll be mounting it in a golden frame, because absolutely no-one is going to believe you when you tell this story.

You collect your guns from a nearby drawer, checking the sights and the safety on each before holstering them at your sides. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get back,” you shrug.

A nice sentiment— not entirely true. “Or you could stay.” Zayne is looking at your weapons, not you.

He’s sat at the kitchen table, watching you over an untouched breakfast. Yours also sits around him: plates upon plates of every food you could imagine, warm and cold, savoury and sweet. You’d suffered a brief heart attack when you’d first laid eyes on it, presuming you’d forgotten some occasion or another.

There’s even a vase of fresh flowers, flourishing at the centre of it all.

It’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever seen, but you’re starting to think that’s the point. Like a hand on your heart, squeezing; it’s urging you to sit back down, to relax, to surrender and let him take care of you. Are you the worst person in the world? It feels like you are.

Ready to take on anything but more of his gaze, you return to the table, fully-armed, and pluck a strawberry from the edge of a plate. You pop it into your mouth, savouring its sweetness as you stroll behind Zayne’s chair. “Try not to worry,” you mumble, resting your hand on his shoulder while you lean in to kiss his cheek. “Ok?”

“Ok.”

You go to pull away, but his hand lands on your hand, anchoring you to him. His fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting, guiding your fingers in front of his mouth so he can press a few, brisk kisses to each. Your heart is in a vice again— tightening with every brush of his lips. You can’t take it. You can’t.

He knows, and he’s turning in the chair, slipping his free hand around your waist and tugging until you’re crushed up against him. “Stay. Please?” his voice entreats. You can barely hear it from where his face is nestled into you.

You have to remind yourself to breathe, and you sigh as your hands move to cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair. You want to enjoy this. Why can’t you enjoy this?

His breath is fanning against you and all you can think about is the fact that he’s making you late.

…

You’re marching to headquarters twice as quickly as usual, and you’ve crashed into three people already. Every time there’s been an impulse to scream “get out of the way!” but you’re wearing your uniform, so you have to apologise, smile sweetly, and pretend you’re not one incident away from turning in your badge and leaving them all to fend for themselves.

Someone steps out in front of you and you have to swerve to miss them, almost dropping your phone in the process. It had just started ringing, and the noise persists as you fumble with it.

“Hello?” you answer, putting it to one ear as you plug the other with a finger.

“Hi!” It’s Greyson, finally, and he’s surprisingly chipper for someone you know is just coming off of his graveyard shift. “I saw your texts. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah! Thanks for calling. It’s just…” Everything’s too noisy for you to concentrate, and you’re still essentially running an obstacle course. You peel away from the crowd, ducking into the quiet of an alley. “I’m a little worried about Zayne. He’s been acting weird all weekend, ever since—”

“Friday?”

“Yeah.” That couldn’t mean anything good. Your brow furrows. “Did something happen?”

A drawn-out sigh makes it through the phone, and you know Greyson well enough to know he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering just how much he should tell you. “We had a patient transferred to us on Friday,” he caves, “a young woman— a hunter, injured— she was… not in a good way. Recovery odds next to zero, but Zayne? You know Zayne. He had to try.”

You nod, even though Greyson can’t see it. There’s dread in the pit of your stomach; you can tell where this is going.

“She didn’t make it,” he states with the rehearsed evenness of someone who’s spoken the words too many times before. There’s another sigh, then he hastens to add: “Zayne was incredible, though— he did everything he could, really. He was her best chance, he just… wasn’t enough. You can’t save everyone, you know?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah, you know.”

And you do: you’re just as haunted by that truth and all of its ghosts. “Yeah,” you speak at last, seeing their faces. Your throat hurts. “Thanks, Greyson. Really.”

“That’s ok,” he yawns. “If Zayne asks, you didn’t hear it from me.”

“You think he’s gonna believe that?”

“No.” He’s smiling, now— you can tell. “But it’s worth a try! You take care of yourself, ok?”

“You too. Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

…

You’ve only been gone for half an hour, but Zayne is fast asleep. Though you’d practically burst through the front door, his head is still lowered— dipping over an open medical journal— and his dark hair has fallen over his eyes. You can’t help but smile. This wasn’t the nervous, pacing-the-apartment man you’d expected to find, but it eases the guilt in your chest for the first time all morning.

You sling your bag from your shoulder and set it gently down on the floor, all the while easing the door closed behind you. You unfasten your holsters. Shrug yourself free of all their straps. You don’t make a sound; you’re being very careful.

Slowly, you make your way over to where Zayne’s lying on the sofa. You lower yourself to his level, reaching to pry his book from his fingers. His glasses are next: you ease them from his face like you’re handling a volatile protocore. Your breath is baited. Your hands almost shake, but you’re an expert at this sort of extraction: you’ve done it a hundred times before.

With your mission accomplished, you allow yourself one small reward. You want to see his face— all of his face— so you card your fingers through his fallen hair, smoothing it back into place. He looks like a dream: the kind you’re glad to carry through daylight, long after you wake. The kind you write down for fear of forgetting a single detail.

You want this, this, this. Every morning. For the rest of your life.

And maybe even the next life. Is that possible?

(You hope it’s possible.)

Standing softly, you smile again— a smile between you and the universe, the gods, and the night sky, in all its infinity. There are things you cannot know and even more things you cannot have, but you are more than content with your consolation prize. This:

One minute of peace, for you and your doctor.

You have a funny feeling this is more than you were ever meant to have.

When your minute is through, you watch as Zayne’s face changes, and he is no longer at peace. He frowns, his whole body suddenly tense. There’s a murmur of… pain? It sounds like pain— he winces like it’s pain. He doesn’t tell you where he goes, but you wish you could hold his hand and make a breakfast big enough to keep him from going there.

“Zayne,” you whisper, resting a warm palm on his cheek. A little louder: “Zayne.”

He stirs in his sleep as your voice brings him back to reality. He’s yours— yours— and the inevitable can have him later. Sure enough, his eyes flutter open, lost for a moment, but then? Home. Safe. With you.

“Hey,” you grin.

He squints against the daylight. “Hmm? Oh. What are you doing back so soon?”

You scoff. “Some doctor you are! I’m at death’s door— can’t you tell?” Your hand leaves his cheek, indicating your not-pallid skin, not-flushed cheeks, and not-sunken eyes with a wave. Then you find his hand, pressing his fingers to your forehead.

There’s a second of hesitation. “Ah,” he says warily, “yes, you’re… burning up.”

“Right?!”

Despite the severity of your condition, you find the strength to clamber on top of him. It’s anything but graceful, and he groans as you shift and fidget, taking your time getting comfortable. Eventually you settle, your head resting against his chest and his arms holding you close. You’re not tired, but you close your eyes, and this is so much better than patrolling for Wanderers.

He draws you higher so his chin can rest on the top of your head. “Greyson told you, didn’t he?” he ventures aloud, because he’s awake, now, so he’s connecting dots.

“Yeah,” you nod against him. “But if he asks, I said it was Yvonne, ok?”

There’s a hum of agreement, then he’s silent. Thinking again. “I’m sorry,” he finally speaks.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s sweet that you worry. You don’t need to—”

“No,” he stops you. “I care about you a lot, and I’ll never apologise for that. What I am sorry for, however, is that a romantic gesture from me is so unusual that you feel you have to call my colleagues. I know I’m not always outwardly affectionate, but—”

“No.” It’s your turn now, and you twist, angling yourself so you can look up into his eyes. “You always make me feel loved, Zayne. Everything you do, everything you say… it’s for me, and no-one has ever cared about me like that. No-one has ever showed me they care like that.”

“Then why—”

“Because you get it, Zayne— the importance of what I do, because it’s what you do, even if it’s different. We’re both saving the world a little, right?”

“Right.”

You draw out his doctor’s note and shimmy it in front of his eyes. “So what the hell is this?”

He admits guilt with a chuckle, his hand moving to catch the evidence, but you’re one step ahead, stashing it back into the sanctity of your pocket. He issues a short hmph, defeated.

“Come on,” you prompt, escaping his arms. “Let’s not let all that food go to waste. You kept it, yeah? I’ve been dreaming about those chocolate-chip pancakes since I left.”

Zayne had been helping you up, but he slumps back as you finish your sentence. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he confirms with the trademark nod of a doctor, and it can only mean one thing:

You’re about to receive some very, very bad news.

899 notes · View notes

rosecastiello · 10 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling — although bloodied — face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor.

𐙚 — Doctor! Zayne x Gangster! Reader

𐙚 — NSFW, MINORS DNI. public sex, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), descriptive smut, explicit sex, curse words, deep throating, unprotected sex, sleepy morning sex, fluff, smut, fucking while the reader is recovering from an injury, unrealistic ending LMAO, minimal angst, violence, attempted murder. 13k WC

𐙚 — this is my first lads work please do not judge me AGHSJKA. divider from @/cafekitsune

You’d been in this state before.

It wasn’t anything new, really, and yet the pain never got any more bearable. Each shot always felt like the first one, and you clenched your teeth hard to keep yourself from passing out in the hallway. It was dark, thanks to the old lights that flickered on and off, and you were sure that if someone saw you in this state, they would probably run away. You can’t blame them, because you were pretty banged up.

Heaving a deep breath from your lungs, you leant against the wall, careful not to leave any bloodstains as ragged breaths escaped your mouth. You shuddered from the pain. Your hand was already clutching your wounded shoulder, putting pressure to stabilize the blood oozing out from the wound while your other arm was wrapped around your waist where two bullets had perfectly been shot at you. Your vision had started to become blurry by now, and your knees were growing weaker with each passing second, but his door was just there. Just a few more steps until you found the comfort you so desperately sought out.

With a groan, you pushed yourself away from the wall and wobbled to his front door, letting out a whimper when you realized he kept the door locked. Of course. Plucking out a few hairpins from the back of your head, you twisted it into his doorknob before sighing in relief as the lock opened with a click. You fell almost face first to the floor, your weight becoming harder and harder for you to carry until your legs finally gave in, and you fell on the ground with a loud ‘thud.’ You whimpered in pain, chest heaving up and down in discomfort as your shaking fingers pried the material of your tank top away from the wound. Frowning when you saw the white cotton had been stained completely red.

“Who’s there?” A soft voice asked just as the lights flickered open, making you wince in your spot. “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

He scurried to your almost passed out form, his dark hair coming into view as his huge eyes stared back at you. You noticed his hands were hanging awkwardly in the air as if unsure to touch you, and you felt a little bad when you saw he was still in his doctor’s coat. He had probably just gotten home after a hellish shift at the hospital, and you ruined the little amount of sleep he allowed himself to have.

You forced a smile on your face as your hands reached up to brush the hair away from his eyes, the action leaving a blood stain on its way. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

“You’re seriously crazy,” was all he said before his strong arms wrapped around you securely, making you groan as he scooped you up, your head lolling into his chest before you curled yourself into a ball. You felt the warmth of his leather couch hitting your bare legs, thanks to your ripped denim shorts before he disappeared from your side. A sound of several medical equipment clanked through the tense silence, and soon enough Zayne appeared in your line of sight once more. His hand gently helped you to prop your head on the pillow, a frown painting his soft features as the sound of medical gloves stretching hit your ears.

He didn’t look too happy.

“Two months. You’ve been gone for two months without even a phone call or a simple text to tell me how you’re doing, and now you come back all beaten up?” He shook his head, passing you a bottle of alcohol and a towel to bite on before lifting your shirt up. “You’re seriously going to be the death of me.”

Well, you knew you weren’t exactly deserving of a warm welcome, but that didn’t stop you from feeling bad anyway.

Zayne sighed, showing you what seemed to be sterilized medical tweezers and a kidney shaped looking metal bin placed on the coffee table. “This is gonna hurt. I don’t have anesthetics.”

“Just get it over with.”

He nodded, although a look of hesitation crossed him before he peeled your shirt away from your skin. A pained and hesitant grimace was sent your way as he assessed the damage, and you assured him you’d be fine. This wasn’t the first time he’d taken care of your injuries, but that didn’t make it less painful for the both of you. For you, it was just physical torture all throughout, and your eyes seared with hot tears that threatened to fall as you remembered your most recent stab wound. Zayne had been the one to take care of it as well, and you felt a little guilty that the only times – well, most of the times, anyway – that you spent at his apartment consisted of him tending to your wounds. And fucking. Lots of fucking.

Now that you thought about it, it’s been too long since you saw Zayne, and the sight of him biting his lip in concentration as he pulled the bullets out was enough to turn you on.

Dark bags were under his eyes, eyes lidded heavily and his little button nose scrunched up a little at the stench of blood. In your own dazed haze of admiring his beauty and all his little quirks you’ve learned through two years of knowing him, you momentarily forgot the heated pain you were in through until he counted down from one to three. He pulled the bullet out, making you bite down on the towel placed in between your teeth.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just one more and we’re good.” He cooed, his soothing voice contrasting well with the pained whimpers that left your throat. While he was busy placing the bullet onto the metal bin, you spat out the towel and drank the beer in one go, feeling the burn of it sting your throat. Zayne was looking at you worriedly, but you nodded at him encouragingly to keep going.

“I’ll be fine.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand.

You were propped up on your elbows as he sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time of that night. His hands were cool against your heated skin, eyes locked on yours as his fingers moved to slide the straps of your tank top down ever so slowly that made you hitch your breath. He’d just finished with taking out the bullets from your waist, and now he was staring intently at the blood that flowed from your collarbones to the swell of your breasts. You swallowed.

His fingers – those same fingers that had the skill of fucking you into another realm and saving lives of people – worked skillfully into plucking the bullet out. Zayne’s other hand was placed on your good arm gently for leverage while his minty breath fanned against your face. You shuddered as you realized you were caged inside his arms. His face was so close to yours that you were sure you could count his eyelashes.

You trailed your gaze lower from his eyes to his thin lips, the ones that you learned kissed softly and passionately in contrast to how rough he was in bed, and only then did you realize how much you’d missed him.

“I love it when you’re on top of me.” You purred, a strangled and yet erotic moan leaving your lips as he successfully took the bullet out.

Zayne coughed.

“You are shameless,” He murmured with a shake of his head, feeling incredulous as he patched bandages on your wound. You stared at him with a smirk on your face. “You barge in at what, two in the morning, all beaten up and you flirt with me? Didn’t anyone tell you not to distract a professional from his duties?”

“Can you blame me when you look so fucking hot when you’re concentrated?” You whispered huskily, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear before you pulled away. He was staring at you wide eyed, “Consider it as payment since you’ve been inside me so many times.”

Zayne was now blushing madly as he leaned away to get more bandages from his first aid kit. “Oh my god – are you serious? That isn’t the same... You know what, just keep your mouth shut. Let me do what I need to do. You’re being way too weird right now.”

You grinned, making sure he saw how much of a teasing shit you were. “I know, and you love me anyway.”

Your deal had gone perfectly well that Jenna had rewarded you handsomely. The weight you’ve been carrying for days had now been lifted off, and you were finally free from the anxiety of fucking it up. It wasn’t your first deal per se, but it was perhaps the most critical assignment she’d ever sent you on. You remembered not being able to sleep for days as you calculated the ins and outs of it. Although Jenna had assured you all you needed to do was trade the goods with them at the port and it was all over, the worry hadn’t eased one bit. Sylus was infamous for leading a drug cartel after he killed his own father to precede him, so it was only natural you felt scared you would meet the man himself. Alone.

But… he was actually alright. He went straight to business and didn’t dilly dally further, and once he was sure your goods were fresh and genuine, he gave the promised money and left without a word. You came back to Jenna with a satisfied smirk, and now you were on your way to this bar that seemed a little too vanilla for your liking. The blinking light of the bar sign was red and neon, and you scoffed as it read Pleasure Cave.

Seriously?

This looked more like a brothel than a bar, and you eyed the girls in skimpy outfits and blood red lipsticks waiting in line with distaste present on your face. No wonder Nero recommended this place. He was never after the drinks, he was after the girls. Well, you couldn’t blame him. Living in shabby apartments and doing underground work wasn’t entirely fancy, plus being a full time gang member didn’t allow him to spend as much time with girls as he would like. Well, whatever, you were here for the drinks.

Now that the deal was done and over with, you were going to get absolutely wasted.

Passing by the hundred people waiting in line, you smiled cheekily as the six foot tall and perhaps three hundred pounds of steroid bouncer glowered at you. “Get in line, sweet cheeks.”

“I don’t think I need to.” Pulling down your shirt a little to reveal the tattoo on your collar bones, the bouncer glared at it before he stood back up with recognition. He said something through the crackled intercom of his walkie talkie. There was a pause, then the doors opened with a heavy creak, the thumping bass of the loud music inside faintly heard. Now that worked well. You grinned wider, stepping on your tippy toes to press a sloppy kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you, angel.”

“Anytime, Ma’am.”

You stepped inside, feeling the cold breeze of the air conditioner nipping at your skin, and you were in a state of elation. Releasing a sigh, you maneuvered through the crowd and plopped on the bar stool, smiling confidently at the bartender before ordering something strong. He merely glanced at your smoky eyes that were lined with kohl, and you winked at him before chewing your gum obnoxiously. Sliding down several shot glasses your way, you sent him an impressed look – he knew you’d be here for quite a long time.

And oh, a long time it was. Seven shots later, the bartender sighed when you raised a finger to signal one more shot, and that’s when he came. It was probably because you were intoxicated and desperate to release some stress, but whatever the reason, you didn’t regret any of the decisions you made that night.

The first thing you noticed about him was his smell. The faint aroma of rubbing alcohol mixed with a masculine scent was enough to make you turn your head, and you downed your shot in one go as you watched the stranger order something fancy. Huh. The raven haired man was dressed to the nines; a baby blue shirt tucked underneath a pair of tight fitting black pants that you were sure groped his ass. You raised a brow at the mere sight of his slender waist that had you ordering two more shots. You noticed his hands first – long and beautiful – and the image of him choking you as he fucked you from behind made you scoot closer to him.

“Hey.”

Surprised, he jumped from his seat and spilled some of his drink to his pants accidentally, his crotch now wet and sticking to his skin. You raised your brows as you noticed the large bulge. He wasn’t even aroused yet.

“I’m sorry,” you said, although you weren’t sorry at all. Pulling out the handkerchief from your pocket, you made sure you looked at him under your lashes while you patted down his groin. The man’s eyes widened at the action, but he didn’t pull you away. He swallowed rather audibly, his hands coming up to circle at your wrist. You noticed the tips of his ears had gone red, and you felt a smirk making its way into your face when you saw his arousal constricting uncomfortably against the fabric.

“That’s enough, thank you,” he whispered, his minty breath fanning your flushed cheeks. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled away from his grasp and clasped his hand to pull him towards you. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you an idea of what I’m capable of.”

In an excruciatingly slow manner, you wrapped your lips around his finger, sucking the digit into your wet cavern. He let out a quiet gasp at the sensation of your tongue licking the underside, your eyes closed in bliss as you felt the bitterness of sanitizers and the saltiness of his skin. It took almost all your willpower not to grind on his lap right there and then, because even though you were a rather kinky woman, you wouldn’t go that far.

“Stop.” He commanded, and you opened your eyes languidly before pulling him out with a lewd ‘pop’. “Do you think I’m the type of man who sleeps with strangers?”

You laughed. “I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me so well, but hmm… you’re a little boring, don’t you think?” Feigning disinterest, you turned away from him, ordering another shot. “Must be a mistake. I forgot men like you were too up in their heads to know how to make a woman feel good.”

He was practically fuming as you downed another shot, a sign that your plan was working. Next thing you knew, strong arms had wrapped around your waist and you let out a small yelp as he heaved you up effortlessly, until you were on his lap, and boy did he look angry. A choked moan left your mouth as he roughly grabbed your hair to expose your neck, and you felt even wetter at the thought that he could fuck you right here in the bar, out in the open for everyone to see. Public sex was something you’ve never tried, but now it seemed like a good idea.

“You think you’re funny?” He raised a brow, his other hand trailing under your shirt to squeeze your breast through the material of your bra. You felt him pinch your nipple and you bucked forwards, grinding against his hardness. It must have felt painfully good, because he dragged you towards him. His tongue licked a trail from your neck to your ear before he threatened lowly. “Don’t fuck with me, angel. I’ve had a rough week, and I can ruin you.”

“You sure about that?” You replied huskily, palming him from underneath you and feeling his erection grow harder. “Because I’m no fragile thing, and I doubt you can give it to me how I like it.”

He hummed against your neck, and you felt your core getting wetter when he mumbled angrily. “And if I prove you wrong?”

“Then you can do whatever you want to me,” You supplied, glaring at him through the lashes. “Now, are you gonna make me wait, or are we gonna fuck?”

That seemed to trigger him, because soon he’s shoving you off his lap and pulling you outside to the back door. You faintly heard the bartender shouting at you to pay, but you were too clouded by your arousal that you let this nameless man drag you out to the dark alleyway where he wasted no time in slamming his lips to yours. You moaned when your head hit the hard bricks of the dirty alley, the searing touch of his fingers under your shirt as he pulled the cups of your bra down and tugged at your nipples enough to send sparks of fire running along down your centre. You were wet, so fucking wet, and you yearned to feel his touch right where you wanted him most.

Your hands had a mind of his own, and he growled into your lips when you blindly unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down. When you palmed his erection and slipped your hands inside his boxers, you ran your finger against his slit and felt your fingers become coated in his pre cum. The stranger grunted, his tongue slipping inside your mouth before the wet muscle collided with yours in a heated manner.

“Fuck.” You moaned into his mouth, pumping your hand up and down his shaft slowly. He pulled away with his chest heaving up and down to look at where your fingers tried to wrap around his thick girth.

Shit, you knew he was big, but you didn’t expect him to be this big. The thought of his cock stretching you out and filling you so deeply had you removing your hands away from his cock to take off your stupid fucking leather pants that clung so tightly to your legs. He laughed at your obvious struggle, and you glared at him. Soon enough, his laughter died down when you shimmied out of your pants, completely speechless as he eyed your bare pussy.

“You haven’t been wearing underwear all this time?”

“I had a feeling I’d meet you tonight,” You joke, but he doesn’t find it funny because he growled, his hand cupping your sopping cunt that left you breathless.

His roughness took you by surprise that you found yourself clinging to his bicep for dear life. It wasn’t long before he slipped two fingers inside, scissoring his way through to your walls to stretch you out, and your head fell back against the wall as you felt him pump into you in an addicting manner that had you seeing stars at the back of your vision.

“You’re so wet already,” He commented, his head diving forwards to suck harshly onto your neck that has you moaning lewdly. You realized this stranger had his fingers shoved deep into your pussy in a dark alley, and while no one could see you at this place, you were sure someone would see the both of you if they passed by. And shit, how fucking hot that was. “That look on your face,” he noticed, “Are you turned on by the thought of getting caught?”

“Aren’t you?” You shot back, and you pushed his hand away when you felt that familiar coil in your belly.

He made a sound of protest that you ignored, and you pulled him down by the tie to attack his thin yet pillowy lips that were red and bruised by now. Your hand snaked between the both of you as you pulled his cock out and lined him against your centre, his breath coming out in stutters when you wrapped one of your legs around his waist as his tip entered you.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” He moaned against your lips before slamming his hips forward until he’s penetrated you into the hilt, and you let out a small whimper of pain. He was big, bigger than you’d imagined. Ypon seeing the look of discomfort in your face, his hands came up to caress your face worriedly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You bit your lip, finding it oddly sweet he could be so gentle even when he was tearing you apart. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute, you’re really big.”

“Okay,” He nods, resting his forehead against yours, his hand still carefully holding you by the waist to help keep you up.

You realized you weren’t able to see his face well under the neon lights of the bar, but seeing him now just a breath away, you realized he’s really good looking. His eyes were warm and kind looking despite the evident lust pooling through those greenish-brown orbs, and his gaze was piercing as he seemed to assess your features back. His once gelled hair had now fallen into stray chunks, adding more to his striking features.

You were momentarily lost in his eyes and gentle touches that you forgot he still had his cock deep inside you.

With that thought, you moved your hips forward, your walls suffocating his length. He suddenly shut his eyes in pleasure, murmuring “Oh, fuck” under his breath. You didn’t need to say anything else, the clenching of your walls against him was enough for him to know he could now fuck you senseless. His eyes snapped open, any signs of the previous warmth he held had completely vanished into thin air as his hands hooked behind your knees, silently telling you to jump, and you wrapped both your legs around him.

“I’m not going to go soft and slow with you.”

“Wasn’t asking you to,” You teased, feeling smug at seeing such a composed looking man slowly losing himself in you. He growled at your remarks, and your teasing ceased when he pushed you firmly against the wall, his hands gripping your waist tightly that you were sure you’d get bruises the day after as he rammed into you at a relentless pace.

You were a mess in his arms, your breasts bouncing and slapping your chest up and down as his cock reached places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He stared at it as if hypnotized before he leaned down, capturing one nipple and lapping at it like a starved man.

Your hair was now sticking onto your skin uncomfortably, uncontrollable moans flowing from your mouth that had fallen open at how each of his strokes seemed to hit everything perfectly. He was stretching you out, filling you so well that each snap of his hips had you tugging at his hair, hard, and he grunted at the pain of you pulling onto his strands. As if encouraged by the action, he pulled out all the way until only his tip was left inside. You stared at him in bewilderment, and he smirked at you arrogantly.

It was just about the sexiest fucking thing you’ve ever seen, and it didn’t help the sweat from his skin made his shirt clung onto him tightly, giving you a teasing view of strong pecs underneath.

You only had a few seconds of rest before he slammed his hips harder than the first, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming. He was good, so good, and your wetness coated him so well as if urging him to fuck you harder. The sound of your moans, his low grunts and the wet sounds of your arousal dripping onto his length was so dirty and erotic that when he hit your sensitive spot, you cursed loudly as your head fell onto his shoulder.

Your back grazed the brick wall rather uncomfortably, but all you could focus on was the sweet torture his cock was abusing your core with. He snapped his hips in a deliciously tantalizing manner, your eyes shut tight as he grunted lowly when you clenched around him, a sign you were close. Judging by the way his thrusts had become erratic, it seemed like he was too.

“Baby, I’m close.” He announced, beads of sweat falling onto his cheeks. He looked fucked out with the way he was gritting his teeth as he continued to slam into you, his hips coming forward hurriedly as if desperate to reach his high. You knew you didn’t look better. Tears threatened to escape your eyes at the way his tip was brushing against your sweet spot abusingly, over and over again. You were so lost in the pleasure you felt that he tapped his fingers against your cheek whimpering at the sensations flooding through.

“I’m close,” he panted, “Where can I cum?”

“Inside,” You breathed out, a moan falling from your open lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You nod tiredly, looking down to see how your pussy engulfed him completely. His length disappeared back into you after every withdrawal, as if your womanhood didn’t ever want him to pull away. And from the way he throbbed inside you, it seemed like he didn’t want to pull away either.

“Oh fuck,” He rasped out, his thrusts stuttering as you felt him release inside you, the warmth of his cum filling you up so good.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You mumbled in the crook of his neck as he spilled himself inside you, feeling your combined essence dripping out of your hole. He groaned, riding the both of your highs before you felt him soften inside you. You were both breathing heavily, and you were taken by surprise when he kissed you again, softer this time. His hands crawled up to the nape of your neck as he nibbled on your lower lip, and you groaned into the kiss, thinking if there’d ever been a time you were taken in a such a debauched manner yet kissed so sweetly.

Your memories came up with nothing.

The contrast of him passionately kissing you like a lover had you feeling lightheaded from how he had roughly fucked you, but you basked in the warmth of him anyway. He smelled faintly of sweat, sex, and his cologne, a scent you think you could get used to forever. His hair was soft as you threaded your fingers through it, and he sighed in content at the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp, his large hand now cupping the side of your face.

When he pulled away from you, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes tired and drooping. The silence of the night engulfed you both as he stayed inside you, and then you both started laughing out of nowhere. He helped you get down safely, his hand still gently placed on the small of your back before he slid out of you completely.

You bit your lip to restrain yourself from fucking him again – the sight of his soft member leaving the warmth of your slick folds shouldn’t have been so erotic. You didn’t want to pull away from him – at least not yet – so you reached forward, tucking his cock back into his boers as you ignored his heated stare at the back of your head. Soon, you pulled your pants back up, wincing at how wet you were down there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not missing the way he stared at how your tight pants outlined your pussy. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uhm, I’m sorry about… that,” he gestured to your camel toe, and you scoffed in amusement. “I can take you home, if you’d like.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” You shook your head, smiling innocently at how his shoulders seemed to drop in disappointment. “Although I must say, it’s gonna be hard to walk home tonight… Doctor Zayne.”

The sight of his eyes widening and his mouth falling open almost seemed comical to you. “Wh-what? How’d you know my name?”

You grinned, showing him his wallet and work ID card. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish before he puffed his cheeks out instead. He patted his pockets in a frenzy, and at the realization that it was indeed empty, you threw his belongings back to him sloppily, his arms flailing out before it fell to the ground. He mumbled a ‘thanks’ at your way. You nodded at him and walked away, letting the darkness of the night swallow you before he called you out. You paused in your steps.

“Wait!” He shouted, although you failed to hear the sound of footsteps. “Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“I don’t think I need to,” You smirked over your shoulder, mockingly saluting him on your way. “I have a feeling we’ll meet each other again.”

Zayne was left in the dark alley that night. As much as he wanted to run after you and take you home, he had a strong feeling you didn’t want to be followed. Once you’d been completely swallowed by the darkness, he jumped in his spot when the back door flung open harshly, and he was met with the sight of a pissed off looking man. It was the bartender.

“Well?” He huffed, “Aren’t you gonna pay?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your girlfriend left without paying,” He hissed, shoving the receipt into the smaller man’s face who looked lost. His eyes skimmed over the amount you’ve drank, grimacing when he saw the hefty price. “Pay up. Now.” Zayne cursed inwardly, handing over a wad of cash to the bartender’s outstretched palm before going home with a frown.

He should have known you were trouble. One look at your predatory gaze, and the way you sized him up like he was your next meal, he fell right into your trap. He kicked a bunch of pebbles in frustration, hating the way he felt so attracted to you the moment he landed his eyes on you. It didn’t help that you were the exact embodiment of sexiness either. You were confident, and carried an aura that made him feel like you could’ve conquered the world should you wish.

In conclusion, you were the exact image of his desires that came to life, and now he faced the consequences of falling into the trap of a seductive temptress.

He just hoped never to see you again.

Weeks passed by since the last time he saw you, and Zayne refused to admit that he went back to the bar several days in a week in hopes of seeing you again.

But after the fifth night that the bartender sent him pitiful glances, he never came back once informed you hadn’t returned ever since. He didn’t even know why he should care, he didn’t even know your name. And yet… he found himself wanting to know more about you. Call it simple curiosity or just him being plainly attracted to your mysteriousness, he didn’t care. One thing he could admit though, was that he thought you were quite the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The way you held yourself so surely and knew exactly what you liked was enough to bring out the primal side of his being.

But, those thoughts aside, you just screamed trouble.

And Zayne worked hard to get where he was now. He still remembered those hellish nights he was unable to sleep when his midterms were coming up, because medical school was just both a curse and a blessing at the same time. It was even harder since his parents had passed away long ago that he had to support himself at such a young age. His childhood – or lack thereof – had been a blur of working two part time jobs to afford his school fees and stacking his mini fridge of bottled coffees just to survive that night. Because of his hectic routine and his dedication to his dreams, Zayne never got to date anyone.

It wasn’t because he didn’t look good either, no, it was quite the opposite.

He’d received multiple confessions in medical school from wonderful girls who all came from good families, but one look at their preppy attitudes and cookie cutter perfect image, he knew he would never fit in. Sure, they were nice, sweet, and smart, but most of his classmates in the resident school had only gotten in because they were born privileged. They would never understand his struggles. And so, with a polite smile, he turned them all down and focused on his own future instead.

He just wanted to pave a better life himself first. Love could come afterwards.

Zayne just never thought it would come in the form of a leather jacket clad woman with blood red lipstick who hauled a man twice her size on her shoulders, cursing at him for being ‘a stupid fucking dimwit’ into the emergency room, exactly on the time of his shift. Zayne shot upwards from his seat in a flash, rounding the counter and making his way towards you and your friend, who he realized was sporting a gunshot to his thigh.

At the sight of your most recent – and undeniably the best fuck you’ve had – wearing a black button-up hidden under a white coat, paired with squeaky white shoes, a stethoscope hanging around his neck and just looking so damn fuckable, had you laughing with glee.

Never mind Luke who was groaning in pain. It was his fault for getting shot anyway. You told the younger male multiple times not to play around with guns and not to challenge your shooting skills because you’d always be better than him. But he refused to back down due to the fact he was so butthurt over it and dragged you into the shooting fields, only for the gun to slip into his sweaty hands, successfully shooting his own leg in the process.

Yeah, you didn’t care at all.

“Doctor Zayne!” You exclaimed gleefully, pushing Luke’s heavy weight off of you until he fell to the hospital bed. You ignored his screams in pain. “What a coincidence!” You glanced at your friend, “Luke, look how lucky you are. Zayne’s in tonight. I heard he’s the best doctor.”

Luke eyed you both, watching carefully as Zayne only nodded at you in return before he proceeded to pull out several doctor shit you had no idea with, but they did seem familiar. You only recognized them briefly from those times you had to dress your wounds yourself, and it wasn’t exactly a memory filled with sunshine and rainbows.

“Okay, I’m going to inject you with some anesthesia,” Zayne’s voice cut through the air, and you watched in awe as he proceeded to do everything flawlessly.

Soon enough, Luke, who was always a wuss when it came to pain, had already passed out by the time the raven-haired doctor had plucked out the bullets and proceeded with the stitching. Not wanting to interrupt, you jumped up on the nurse’s counter, swinging your legs back and forth with your palms placed flatly behind you before assessing the place.

It was a rather big and well known hospital, so you were confused that Zayne seemed to be the only one around. The only sound that filled the air was Luke’s hiccupping followed by snores, and you scoffed at him, eyes trained on Zayne’s skillful fingers working on the sutures flawlessly. You noticed his brows were furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and you tipped your head to the side in admiration.

You didn’t understand what was so endearing about a professional man concentrated on his work, but you found yourself enamored by the mere sight of him.

Somehow, he managed to look absolutely perfect under the bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room, and you thought it was unfair. He wasn’t even dressed to impress. His white coat was wrinkled, and only now does it make sense when he told you he’d had a rough week the first time you met him. Dark bags were under his eyes, and you squinted at the sight of several headache pills and cups of coffee neatly placed behind the counter where he once sat, waiting for patients who needed his help.

Guilt immediately washed over you.

Here, Zayne probably spent day and night saving countless lives. Maybe people like him would have been able to get more rest had people like you not existed.

Your train of thought was cut off when you suddenly felt a warm hand caressing your face, and you froze under Zayne’s touch. Looking up, you swallowed when you realized his face was close to yours – way too close – that you could see the worry present in his gaze.

“What happened?” He asked softly, concern coating his dulcet voice that you couldn’t help but feel small inside his arms. You blinked. Wait, what? Felt small? You almost wanted to laugh, because you both led different lives. In your world of kill or be killed, you were definitely on the ‘kill’ side. People like you weren’t weak, so you sat up straighter, tearing yourself away from his soothing touch as you flashed him a lazy grin.

“Don’t mind him, he was just being stupid,” you gestured to a passed out Luke.

Zayne shook his head, pulling off his medical gloves before throwing it into the waste bin. “He could have been in a critical situation if you hadn’t brought him here earlier. Your friend got shot in the leg, and it was dangerously close to his bones. A single shot to the leg, especially the thighs, could have been deadly. The bullet could have exploded into tiny pieces until it flowed into his bloodstream, and those little shrapnels could have killed him,” he sighed tiredly, placing his arms beside your body. Even with you sitting on top of a counter, Zayne still managed to be taller than you. “Your friend could have died tonight. He needs to be confined for further treatment.”

Your eyes almost popped out its socket, “What? No! We need to be back by tonight!”

“I can’t allow that,” he shook his head, “He needs proper recovery.”

“But–” you started, pausing in your words when he gave you a look that told you you didn’t have any way out of this. But you had to get Luke back to the base tonight before Jenna woke up. You didn’t want your boss finding out his best asset and the newest fresh meat he assigned you to train to end up with a medical record accessible by your enemies, unless you wanted to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Then, an idea flashed into your mind, and you looked around for the possibility of anyone walking into you. Looking back at the sexy doctor hovering over you firmly, you flashed your most seductive smile, running your hand down his chest before purring, “–you can always have exceptions, right?”

Zayne glared at you, although he didn’t stop you from looping your fingers to his pants. If anything, he’s a little grateful for the distraction. He realized you were much better at waking him up than any of those energy drinks and coffee. No, you set his nerves on fire, and he started to panic when you jumped off the counter and went down on your knees.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” He whisper-hissed, stopping you from doing whatever you were about to do. “My co-workers are just on their break, they’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” You chuckled arrogantly, looking up at him innocently. The image of you looking absolutely cute while at eye level with his now growing arousal was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “With how good I am, you’d come undone in two minutes.” And I’d get Luke out in no time, you thought to yourself.

Zayne scoffed when he realized you had a knack for bruising his ego, and you laughed harder when he shoved his pants down until his erection sprang free, his cock bending towards his stomach. You smirked at the fact he was already hard, his head now red and dripping with precum. You felt proud it didn’t take much to turn him on.

Oh, you were gonna have fun indeed.

“Two minutes,” he growled, his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as his hips thrust forward, his cock slapping against your cheek. The essence of his arousal making your face feel sticky. “You’ve got two minutes to make me cum.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Not wasting a second longer, you placed your hands on his strong thighs before taking him into your mouth. Zayne moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock. You licked the underside of his cock, feeling every protruding ridge and vein before you started sucking him. Bobbing your head up and down, Zayne closed his eyes in pleasure, thrusting forward when you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Ah, fuck,” He grunted, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and your gag reflex clenched around his head. It was a beautiful sight to behold, seeing him lose himself in the feeling of your mouth around him. You sucked him off earnestly until you pulled him out with only his tip left inside, his muscles quivering under your touch.

Feeling that he was close, you took him all the way back in until you’re gagging on his length again. Tears started to fall on your cheeks at how he had completely taken over. Soon enough, you felt him grow bigger inside you until you knew he was about to cum. He pulled away, or more like tried to, because you placed your palm flat on his ass to keep him right where he was. You started choking and gagging on his cock when he harshly thrust inside your mouth, his warm seed spurting on your tongue.

Zayne fought back another groan. He struggled to breathe from the orgasm you gave him, and you opened your mouth, showing him that his cum was all over your tongue before you made a show of swallowing it. Your lipstick had also smeared, the red smudged all over your face. Deciding to tease him further, you wrapped your lips around him one more time, leaving lipstick stains all over his semi hard cock.

“W-wait,” he tried to push your head back, “Sensitive – I can’t–”

Determined to clean him off, you licked all around his member, still tasting the saltiness of his cum coating your tongue before pulling him out with a wet ‘pop.’

You stood up and brushed the dust of your knees, thankful that your skinny ripped jeans hadn’t been stained the slightest. Zayne pulled his pants back up, glaring at you when he saw you trying not to smile at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” you said, “Did it feel good?”

“I came in a minute and a half, what’d you think?” He snapped, and you laughed at how moody he seemed. Zayne rounded the counter before typing something away at his computer, not sparing you a glance as he asked for your friend’s personal information. He looked up at you with a raised brow. “I said, what’s your friend’s name?”

You crossed your arms against your chest. “You know, I blew you off. Let me off the hook just this once,”

“What?” He asked, bewildered, “What part of your friend needs proper recovery don’t you understand? He needs to be under supervision.”

“We have a resident doctor,” you informed, “He just wasn’t around today, but I assure you he can take care of him. Come on, Zayne, it’s only right that you repay me for making you feel good, no?”

“You made me pay for your drinks at the bar. I think I deserved that blowjob.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, trying to do the puppy eye method and wishing it would work on him. It didn’t, and you sighed in defeat. “I can repay you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he hissed, and you groaned, exasperated.

There would be a next time because you wanted him as much he wanted you!

Desperate to make him change his mind, you tugged your crop top down to show that again you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Zayne’s eyes immediately clouded with lust at the sight.

He scoffed, though he doesn’t tear his gaze away from your perky buds. “Did you think you could bribe a professional with your gorgeous body?”

“Of course,” you replied confidently, pushing your shirt back to its place before walking beside Luke, ignoring the way Zayne eyed your tattoo weirdly. You shook him awake, but he only mumbled and slapped your hand away, and you sighed. Zayne was still watching you both curiously from behind the counter. You gave him an ‘ok’ sign before slapping Luke hard on the face, to which he immediately bolted awake.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?!”

“That’s not how you talk to your senior,” you scolded him while helping him get up with his arm looped around your neck. Turning to Zayne, you winked, “I have a car, don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’ll get taken care of.”

He hummed with a frown etched on his face, not liking the thought of you alone in a car with a different man. “Will you tell me your name now?”

Luke was halfway passed out again in your arms, and you grinned cheekily at the hot doctor who was patiently waiting for your answer.

Finally, you introduced yourself, “But try not to say my name too much.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re gonna get hurt if you do.”

Just as fast as you appeared and always gave him something to remember you by, you disappeared.

It was starting to infuriate the doctor by now, at how he knew the curves of your body but otherwise had no idea of who you were. He knew you weren’t a normal citizen like him, and he’s pondered several times if maybe you were a criminal. It made him wince; the thought of falling for a criminal out of all people was enough for him to be thrown off balance.

Every morning, he woke up at the thought of your smile, of how adorable and innocent you seemed when you just laughed to your heart’s content and your eyes formed into little crescent moons. He also remembered the way you smelled, a mix of roses and something entirely soft and feminine. He grew afraid of forgetting your sweet scent that he even thought of not showering before he realized how undeniably disgusting that was. And so with a disgruntled thought, a hard on that made him jack off in the shower at the thought of you, and very confused feelings, Zayne decided to throw himself into work and just forget about you completely.

Things were much better that way anyway.

Desperate to ignore how his mind was heavy at the thought of you, of how he craved to hold you instead of touch you, he took on several shifts that absolutely left him drained by the end of the day. He was basically sleeping in empty operating rooms by now, the stench of rubbing alcohol and metallic steel comforting to him. He was so overworked that even nurses and several doctors had become worried for him.

“Zayne,” Nurse Jude addressed the dark-haired doctor who had a clipboard cradled to his chest, well on his way to looking like a zombie right now. “I think you should go home. You don’t look too well.”

Zayne only smiled gratefully, always finding comfort in the quieter nurse’s presence. Jude was a calm and gentle steady energy, and he secretly envied at how he seemed to have everything balanced. If he remembered correctly, he still managed to have the time to take his girlfriend out on dates despite also basically living in the hospital. Jude was well rounded and had everything he wanted and needed, while Zayne just felt left behind for silently chasing (not really, he hadn’t seen you in months) a woman who he was certain was a criminal.

Or worse, a murderer.

He really needed to set his mind straight.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he lied, checking the patient’s vitals while Jude places the suggested meals for their recovery. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Is it a girl?”

He paused on the act of scribbling down the rates, his hand reaching up to rub his neck awkwardly. “Is it too obvious?”

“A little, yeah,” Jude laughed before patting him on the back comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it too much, I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.”

Zayne smiled sadly. The likelihood of even meeting you again was highly unlikely, what even more the possibility of you liking him the same way he liked you. But he nodded anyway, not wanting to make Jude feel bad. “I sure hope so.”

“It will,” he insisted, and the spectacled nurse gives him a small smile before making his way out. “Oh, and I talked to Nurse Jang, she said she’ll gladly cover your shift for you. Go home, Zayne, you need to rest.”

Zayne smiled, silently asking himself why he couldn’t have just been a woman and dated someone like Jude instead. He was smart, attractive, and caring.

He shook his head in disbelief, bidding the patient deep in slumber a farewell before following his co-worker out the hallway to retrieve his stuff and go home. Jude and Nurse Jang both gave him bread in hopes that he would get his much needed rest soon. Since Zayne was feeling like taking a stroll in the night, he pocketed his car keys and walked all the way to his apartment.

The stars were out and bright, and he stared at them astonishingly, wondering if you were looking at the same sky as him; if you saw the stars the way it was now. He stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling cold and lonely in the empty night as his mind started to get swarmed by thoughts of you.

He really didn’t understand why he felt attracted to you, all he knew was that there was this… spark, or connection, however corny that sounded.

And he knew he just wasn’t after your body – although he would love to fuck you again, in his bed this time if you’d allow him to take his time with you – no, he was completely drunk at the thought of you.

It was weird, how he didn’t even know your last name, your age, or what you really did for a living. And yet, he didn’t care about all those, all he knew was that he wanted to be with you. He wants to spend time with you and get to know you better, and hell, he wants to pamper you with so much love that he doesn’t understand fucking why. Frustrated, he runs his hand down his face with a groan, unable to get his mind off of you. Maybe it was because you had a good sense of humor, and you always kept him on his toes and there was just something about you that let him know he had to cherish each and every moment.

With a sigh, he stopped looking at the stars because it only reminded him of how you were probably somewhere, unsafe. He didn’t have the slightest of how you were and he was worrying for a complete stranger.

Too lost in his own thoughts, he failed to hear the sound of a gun clicking. Zayne froze when he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing against his forehead, followed by a gruff voice cutting through the silence of the air.

“Give me your money.”

Zayne gulped, pocketing his wallet immediately at the sight of the man holding him hostage come at eye level with him. He gulped at how his left eye was closed due to a scar that ran until his chin. Obviously, this guy had seen some real things that Zayne doesn’t even want to be involved in, and his heart was picking up a mile a minute. He was about to hand his wallet and cellphone over, making sure he still kept his work ID, when a feminine and a strangely familiar laughter joined in the scene.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Carefully, Zayne turned around, only to see you leaning against the wall lazily with a cigarette dangling by the edge of your lips, somehow looking bored at the scene. If he wasn’t about to piss in his pants right now in fear of getting his brains blown out any moment, he would have admired you openly. He swallowed at the sight of you wearing nothing but a lace black bralette under a washed denim jacket, paired with ripped skinny jeans and untied combat boots. Still so pretty, even when his entire body warned him not to get too close.

Like the first time he saw you, you screamed danger, and Zayne found himself unable to look away.

“Go home, little girl,” the man snapped, “This isn’t a place for youngsters like you.”

You sighed tiredly. “Whatever. Just let the man go, and learn a little lesson from him. If you want money, you gotta work hard like everyone else.”

A tick seemed to go off in him, because soon Zayne was being shoved aside. He shouted your name loudly when the man had his gun pointed at you instead. However, you only grinned at him, cocking your head to the side in pure amusement. Zayne watched as the man lowered his gun, fingers stuttering as realization dawned on him.

“Are you part of the–”

“Exactly, sweetheart,” you smiled sweetly, taking his fingers off from the weapon. “Now, run along before I kill you, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

Tha man nodded before scurrying away, and Zayne pushed himself up to his feet to place himself beside you. Your eyes were still trained on the offender’s retreating form. Zayne was about to pull your attention to him when you suddenly raised the gun with a squint, the sound of a gun firing echoed through the night. Zayne gasped, disbelief written all over his face as the man fell down.

You turned to him with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t kill him, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t kill?!” he asks, enraged. “You still shot someone!”

“I know Jason, he’s gonna run for a little bit and come back to you. Did you really think I’d risk you getting killed when I could have prevented it?” Your words came out with spite that Zayne didn’t respond to, watching as you stashed the gun into the back pocket of your jeans. “Thought so. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Jesus, Zayne,” you said exasperatedly, “Out of all the places you could’ve taken a detour in, you had to choose a bad neighborhood, didn’t you? I’m taking you home, and that’s final.” Zayne started to protest, but one glare from you had him shutting up. Once sure he had given in, you showed him your trademark carefree smile, bowing down mockingly. “Lead the way, sir.”

“I live close by,” he rolled his eyes, and you fell into step with him easily.

The two of you walked in silence, your hands swinging back and forth obnoxiously as your legs took longer strides to keep up with him. When he realized he considerably walked faster than you did, he slowed down until you were right next to him, and you were taken by surprise when he looped his hand through yours, eyes staring directly ahead. “This is just so you don’t fall behind.”

“How sweet,” you commented cheekily, reaching up to peck him on the cheeks. Zayne, not expecting the innocent gesture even in his wildest dreams, whipped his head so fast to look at you. He looked so ridiculously cute that you couldn’t help but kiss him again, making sure your lips remained to his skin a little longer than the first. “You look so adorable.”

His cheeks burned at the way you looked at him, your eyes completely youthful, innocent, and just looking at him with so much adoration that he thought… he wasn’t going to deny it anymore. He liked you.

Upon rendering him speechless, you giggled before tugging him forwards to walk home. Zayne turned away from you to hide a childish grin.

The walk back was peaceful, and the mere scent of your rose scented perfume was enough to soothe his nerves as well. Maybe it was because he knew he was safe, and that’s why he felt comfortable, but one look at you humming a tune to yourself, he realized he was calm and at peace because you were safe.

You obviously led a life that would be hard to explain to him, and while he wanted to get to know you better, he also didn't want to push you into divulging information you wouldn’t want to.

For now, he was just glad to see you and have you by his side again, and he was going to try to elongate this moment for as long as he could.

And so the stoic doctor walked slowly on purpose, and you, being observant and calculative as ever, knew exactly what he was getting at and walked slowly as well. It was a little chilly, and your lack of clothing didn’t help, so you pressed your body flush against his, your head naturally finding its place into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but his strong arm encircled your waist. You didn’t find it in yourself to complain.

You just missed him.

And he missed you too, although no one would ever say that out loud.

“How was work?” You asked softly, “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, turning slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head before his apartment came into view and you both walked upstairs. “I couldn’t get my mind off this amazing person, and I had to work a lot to forget her.”

You chuckled breathily from his hold, and Zayne smiled when he felt the vibrations of your chest rumble to his skin. “Maybe it’s much better to forget her. She’s just bad news, you know.”

“I don’t think I want to forget her,” he admitted, now standing in front of his unit. Zayne loosened his hold on you, his hands finding its place on your shoulders before bending down to look at you. “I think… I want to keep seeing you.”

A smile made its way to your face, but it was more confused than sad. Shrugging his hold off of you, you lifted your denim jacket to show him the intricate dragon tattoo that ran until the top of your breasts. “I’m a criminal, Zayne. I’m part of an underground gang, and, well… as much as I want to see you too, I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

“We won’t know until we’ve tried,” he insisted, and your eyes lit up in amusement at how he seemed intent on getting to know you better. It warmed your heart in a way that you’d never felt before, and your smile only grew bigger, perhaps even a little shy when he continued speaking. “Can I – feel free to say no, but please don’t – take you out on a date?”

Your eyes squinted so hard from how large you were smiling, and really, how could you say no? Fishing your phone out from your pocket, you typed in his name next to a heart emoji before handing it to him. Zayne laughed in disbelief as he texted himself through your number and saved his contact information.

“I’ll text you the details. When are you free?”

“I’m a busy woman,” you told him, cocking your head to the side teasingly. “But if it’s for you, I’m always free.”

Zayne’s face flushed. “Wow, okay, I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

You rolled your eyes, walking away from him with a wave of your hand. “I’ll see you around, Doc. This is my first date, so it better not be disappointing.”

“It won’t!”

And Zayne really did keep to his word. Only three days after you walked him home, your phone buzzed from its place rather loudly that you accidentally knocked Luke’s gun out of his hold. A shot rang through the air and a scream tore its way from his throat. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he almost shot himself again.

“I swear, Luke, I’m not taking you to the hospital again because of your stupidity.”

He had the audacity to look appalled. “You made me drop my gun!”

“Tough luck,” you teased, grinning as you read Zayne’s text. He was asking if you were available tonight, and you immediately replied back saying you were. “Okay, tell the boss I’ll be out tonight. Don’t ask why. I’m meeting someone.”

“What does that me–hey! You know Jenna will kill me if she finds out you went out again!”

“That was kind of the plan,” you laughed, twisting your car keys into your finger before running away from the younger male who had gone pale in fear. “But don’t die tonight!”

You expected someone like Zayne to take you to a quiet, upscale restaurant for your first date, the kind of place where you could sit across from each other and talk softly about your lives over candlelight. But instead, you found yourself in a small, crowded theater, where the seats were a little too close together and the air was thick with anticipation.

As you settled into your seats, you couldn’t help but smile at the contrast between the setting and the man beside you. Zayne, usually so composed in his button-ups and scrubs, had opted for a simple black hoodie and jeans, his hair down and slightly tousled. The look softened his serious demeanor, and you found it endearing.

“I didn’t expect you to pick a horror movie,” you teased as the previews began to roll.

Zayne’s lips quirked up in a shy smile, but he kept his eyes on the screen. “I thought it’d be...interesting,” he replied, the hesitation in his voice betraying his nerves.

“Interesting, huh? You sure you can handle it?” you nudged him playfully.

“I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse things,” he said, though the faint tension in his posture suggested otherwise.

As the movie started, you noticed how intently he was watching the screen, his posture straight, his eyes focused. The suspense began to build, and you could feel Zayne tensing beside you. The protagonist on screen was slowly inching closer to the inevitable scare, and you couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Zayne. When the jump scare finally hit, the theater erupted with screams, and Zayne flinched, his grip on the popcorn box tightening. He let out a quiet exhale, his eyes darting to you as if to gauge your reaction.

“Are you okay?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

He gave a small nod, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’m fine. Just...not my usual choice of entertainment.”

You grinned, finding his honesty charming. “Well, I’m glad you’re here with me anyway.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He shifted slightly in his seat, and his fingers brushed against yours on the armrest. It was a subtle touch, but the warmth of his skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the movie continued, Zayne remained composed, though you noticed how his hand eventually settled over yours, his grip gentle yet reassuring. It wasn’t overt or flashy, but rather a quiet sign of affection that made your heart swell.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he turned to you. His expression was soft, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you expected,” he said, his thumb grazing your hand as he spoke.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. “Zayne, this was perfect. I didn’t need anything fancy. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He looked relieved, and as you both stood up to leave, he helped you to your feet, his hand resting lightly on your back as you exited the theater. The cool night air greeted you, and you felt a sense of calm between you, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words.

“Do you want to grab a coffee or something?” he asked, his voice low, as if he was still feeling out the moment.

“Actually,” you said, stopping him as you turned to face him, “I was thinking we could just...walk for a bit?”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “I’d like that.”

As you walked side by side, the city’s lights twinkling around you, Zayne reached for your hand again, this time with more confidence. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I have to admit,” he said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “I was really nervous about tonight.”

You glanced at him, surprised. “You? Nervous?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fixed ahead. “Yeah. I’m not exactly great at this...dating thing.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, your heart warming at his confession.

When you reached a quiet spot away from the bustling streets, Zayne slowed to a stop, turning to face you fully. There was something in his gaze, a mix of shyness and determination, that made your breath catch. “I know I’m not the easiest person to read,” he began, his voice steady despite the slight flush on his cheeks, “but I want you to know that...I’m really glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You smiled, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad too, Zayne. Really.”

He hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, meeting him halfway. The first touch of his lips was soft, almost tentative, but as you responded, he deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The kiss was everything you hadn’t expected – gentle, warm, and unhurried. It wasn’t about passion or fireworks, but a press of lips where you familiarized yourselves with each other’s taste. When you finally pulled away, you found yourself smiling shyly at each other.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he gazed at you.

“Not in so many words,” you replied, your voice teasing but soft.

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression that made your heart skip a beat. “You do. You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Zayne held your gaze for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, still holding your hand as you continued your walk. The night was calm, and with Zayne by your side, everything felt just right. He took you to a diner afterwards where you feasted on burgers and milkshakes. It definitely wasn’t anything out of the norm, but it was perfect nevertheless. He refused to let go of your hand under the table, and although you told him he’d struggle to eat with one hand, he just shook his head with a smile and insisted he never wanted to let you go.

You should have known that night would be just one of many.

And it was never easy.

Of course, being a gangster had never been on par with dating a doctor, and even though most of your things are now placed in his apartment, it still wasn’t easy. You often left without a word, only coming back near the verge of dying, and Zayne would always hold back his tears as he took care of you.

It wasn’t easy because you kept coming back to him and your old life, two worlds that never blended well together, because he was the preserver of life and you were the bringer of death. It wasn’t easy when it always felt like you had too little time that made Zayne always had to cherish every moment he had with you. It wasn’t easy for you, and definitely not for him, yet Zayne never asked you to stay.

Instead, he always watched you leave in the middle of the night, silently hoping you’d come back safely.

Today was not one of those days.

Jenna had sent you off somewhere far away to handle one of her deals for her, and it didn’t end up looking pretty when your so called client tried to run away without payment. Needless to say, you got stabbed in the gut, but you came home with bags of money anyway. It was a miracle you were able to drive yourself all the way back without passing out.

Just like when Luke accidentally shot himself, the resident medic wasn’t around, and you found yourself limping to Zayne’s apartment. It was a little ways past midnight, and he was still awake, back hunched over a few papers of his patients. Upon hearing the sound of rapid knocking he knew was yours, he immediately cleared off his table to take care of you. Just like how he always had.

And like always, you looked at him dreamily, because he was the only light in your life. Your heart swelled with your feelings for him, because whether he had you bent over the counter as he fucked you from behind or you were just cuddling him – or moments like now where you were barely breathing and your gaze was unfocused – he always looked at you the same way.

He always looked at you like he loved you, and you knew he did.

“I missed you,” you croaked out, coughing up blood afterwards. He shushed you before proceeding to stitch you up. “I’m sorry I’m always gone and you keep having to take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand momentarily cupping your cheeks.

You looked up at him with so much affection that made him wonder if you were hurt at all, and those were one of the things about you. You had your own demons, yet you always seemed bright and carefree, and he sighed.

Zayne blamed it on that cursed hippocratic oath that always made him come to your beck and call. But one look at your smiling – although bloodied – face, he realizes he doesn’t mind being your personal doctor.

Like always, he was just glad you were safe.

You soon passed out in his dining table, your clothes stained with blood now seeping through and making a mess of his furniture. But he didn't mind, and instead carried you bridal style to his room where he lets you rest. He peeled off your dirty clothes away from your body before draping you his oversized yellow hoodie, his heart stirring with worry and happiness at seeing you in his bed, in his clothes, and in his arms.

To him, that was enough since he knew there wasn’t much you could give him, so he cuddled next to you, careful not to add pressure to your wounds before falling asleep.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been out for, but by the time you’d woken up, you realized you were in Zayne’s bed, dressed in your favorite hoodie of his. Groaning, you covered your eyes when the sunlight streamed in harshly. Zayne stirred from beside you. You let out a little gasp when you felt his erection pressing against your ass, his husky morning voice groaning in your ear.

“Baby,” he moaned, his hands lifting your – his – hoodie up as his fingers trail your skin up to your breasts. “Can I fuck you?”

“I,” you started, pausing when your throat goes dry. “Yes, please.”

Zayne groaned as he scooted closer to you, his hair starting to tickle your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers pushed your panties to the side, the tip of his erection teasing your folds before he pushed all the way in. “Fuck,” he moaned lowly, “Tell me if it hurts anywhere.”

You only chuckled lightly as your lips gripped him tightly, because only now do you remember the previous incident you were in. True to his words, Zayne was careful not to hurt you, his hands finding home in your hips instead of your waist. You shuddered at the same time he let out little grunts next to your ear. You wished you could turn around to see how his face contorts in that way when he’s about to cum, but he doesn’t let you. His hand started to grip your breasts under the material of his hoodie, making you close your eyes in the feeling of him filling you again.

It had been too long, way too long, and you missed him.

Your body was sensitive, that even though his thrusts were slow yet deep, the constant action of his cock plunging into your depths had you mewling. Zayne began to whisper your name, and that was enough for you both to reach your peaks. He came inside you with his thrusts getting sloppier by each minute, and you shut your eyes close as his warmth started to drip outside your pussy.

Zayne pulled out, gently turning you to your side to face him. He was looking at you softly, a shy smile decorating his sleepy features as he muttered out, “Hi.”

“Hello,” you greeted back as softly as he did. “Did you miss me?”

“So much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he soothed, sitting up before helping you to do the same. “Just promise me you’ll spend the night.”

Now that you could promise. “Sure. Jenna let me off the hook anyway.”

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the thought of that, and soon you both made your way to his kitchen where he started whipping up breakfast. You winced at the bloodstains you’d left, making a move to wipe it off, but he reprimanded you to just sit down and do nothing. You apologized when he cleaned it up rigorously. He only winked at you, and you moved to plop yourself on his counter as you watched him cook. Zayne let the eggs boil for a while, and you watched him cross legged with your face cupped in the palms of your hands. He turned to stare at you, his face unreadable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, feeling self conscious as you touched your face. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head, walking towards you and placing his arms beside your body before he kissed you. “You just,” peck “look,” peck “so,” peck “cute.” By the time he moved on to peppering your face with kisses, you were giggling in his hold, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist .Zayne laughed at your poor attempts in trying to move away from him.

“Stop!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, “You’re gonna spoil me!”

“Of course I’ll spoil you.” He stated, his hands keeping you in place to stop you from moving. You gave in to the strength of his hold and fall limp, the both of you falling silent as you just stared at each other looking lovesick fools.

“Kiss me again.” You mumbled, hands playing with the collar of his shirt. Zayne bent down to kiss you again.

“As you wish.”

You lost yourself in his lips for what seemed like the hundredth time since you met him, and it was his smell that completely intoxicated you. Zayne smelled like safety and comfort, and you were both laughing through the kiss when he suddenly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, noticing the panicked expression of his face.

“I forgot the eggs!”

You laughed as he ran to his boiled eggs, whining once he saw the eggs had already exploded. He tried to redo them again after scolding you for always distracting him, and the rest of the day was spent cuddling next to each other on his couch while lazily surfing through Netflix. The day passed by in a blur until the sun had already gone down by the time Zayne noticed you yawning in his arms.

He kissed your cheek, hands lazily making circles at your hip. “You wanna sleep, baby?” You hummed in response, and he carried you effortlessly back to his bed before snuggling under the covers with you.

You played with his hand, a small smile gracing your face as you placed it flat against his, and realizing his hands were bigger than yours. Zayne had several moles in his fingers that you loved, and he watched in silence as you admired his fingers. Moments like this were what he lived for, to see you happy and comfortable, but he couldn’t stop himself from uttering his next words.

“Will I ever have you?”

You paused, dropping his hand to the bed. Silence consumed the air as your eyes grew distant and Zayne started to wonder if what he said was wrong.

“One day,” you promised quietly, looking back into his eyes with a kindness you’d always kept hidden as your fingers started to comb through his hair. Zayne closed his eyes at the gesture. “You will. Just wait for me when you do.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You didn’t answer back.

Zayne wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see you for the next two months.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

“I know, and you love me anyway.”

Zayne playfully glare at you, and you laughed, only to choke afterwards because of the pain that shot down at your body. Groaning, you rested your head back into the pillows, his scolding voice now back. “What happened to you?”

At his question, you closed your eyes contentedly, blindly pulling his hand back to your lips. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” He snarled, “You got shot–”

You opened your eyes, looking at him with so much happiness that you found difficult to contain. “What matters is that I’m all yours now.”

Zayne stilled, pausing in the act of bandaging you up. You expected him to be happy, but you almost sat up in worry when a tear fell from his eye as he stared at you grimly. “Zayne, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he cried, wiping at his tears before finishing your bandages up quickly and crushing you into a hug, still careful not to hurt you. “I just–are you serious?”

“Yeah! I’m free from the gang.” You pulled away to look back at him, wiping his tears away even as he laughed to say the words he’d always been waiting to hear, “I love you too.”

How fitting, you thought, that Zayne was a doctor, because he had stitched up all the broken and missing parts of you together until he made you whole. And it was his stitches and kisses that brought you back to life.

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rosecastiello · 10 months ago

Note

Imagine reader going to who knows where for a dangerous mission... Saying that he'll be alright and kissing each of the consorts goodbyes, fully trusting them to take care of the kingdom while he is away.

Of course, the consorts having been raised with proper etiquette on how a consort should act and the rules, they don't touch themselves.

A day turned to two turned to three.. Days eventually turned to weeks turned to months. No information at all. As if reader has vanished. The army that went along with reader didn't report back. Their letters went unanswered. No signs of reader, no signs of the love of their life being alive. It scared them.

This could go alot of ways... Reader could be kidnapped by an enemy and stuff (make the enemy join the harem maybe? Enemy could be an oc or not idc), or reader would be alive but it was war and he was lost or in a secret mission?, Or if he dies or something?

I’m so grateful for your fantastic idea! You’re incredible! <3

Pairings: Zayne/ Rafayel/ Xavier/ Sylus x Gn! Reader

You dressed in snow-white clothes, stepped into the majestic throne room, where four consorts were waiting for you. Majestic columns, decorated with carvings and gilding, towered on both sides of the hall, as if guarding your vaults. Silence reigned in this spacious room, only the quiet echo of the emperor's steps disturbed the peace. White clothes dressed with you were a symbol of your possible death, a tradition reminiscent of the frailty of life and its fragility. With this outfit, you made it clear to your loved ones that your mission could be the last. The consorts knew about this ancient custom and had difficulty hiding their emotions.

You slowly approached Xavier, whose eyes were swollen with tears, his face was pale, and his lips were trembling with restrained sobs. You gently took him by hands, feeling the trembling running through his body. You looked into his eyes with deep tenderness and love.

"Xavier," whispered the emperor, "no need to cry. I will always be with you in mind and heart."

Tears filled his eyes, and he hugged you tightly, as if trying to keep you from the coming danger. Feeling the full power of this hug, you carefully steaned and kissed Xavier on the forehead.

Then you turned your eyes to Sylus, who stood squeezing his lips into a thin line, trying to maintain self-control.

"Sylus," the emperor continued, "I believe that you will be able to cope with any difficulties. Be my rock, take care of my loved ones and the empire while I'm away." Silus nodded, trying to keep his tears. He took your hand and put it to his cheek, feeling the warmth of your touch.

"We will be waiting for you, Your Highness. Come back soon" You bowed your head in agreement, kissing him on the forehead.

You looked at Rafayel, the most sensitive of the consorts whose eyes were full of tears.

"Rafayel," you began, but he didn't let you finish, rushing to you, hugging you tightly and sobbing in his voice.

"Please don't leave…I need you, we need you." The words are stuck in your throat. You understood the gravity of this separation.

"Rafayel, my love," you said, gently stroking his back. "I have to go, but I'll be back. You're strong, you can do it. I believe in you." Rafayel can't let you go. But you carefully pulled away, kissing him on the forehead. Then you slowly knelt down in front of him and kissed his stomach with deep tenderness, as if promising your unborn child that you would return.

Finally, you approached Zayne. He looked at you with seriousness and anxiety. He always understood you without words. Your views met, and in this silent meeting there was more than could be expressed in words. You took Zayne's hands in your own and kissed them, as you did every time. Zayne, despite his external resilience, was on the verge of tears. He understood that as the eldest of the consorts, he had to be strong, because he had a special responsibility. He knew you trusted him the most, and this trust was a shrine for him.

You looked around your consorts for the last time before leaving the hall, leaving behind silence and emptiness. The couple stood in silence for a long time, feeling the bitterness of separation.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Days, weeks, months passed. The palace, once filled with laughter and life, now seemed empty and cold. Every day, consorts waited for news from the emperor, looking out the window with hope at the appearance of a messenger. But the wait was delayed. They sent you countless letters trying to get in touch, find out anything. The letters were full of love, hope and pleas for return. But the answers didn't come. Time passed, and the unknown became more and more unbearable.

Xavier, now spent his days alone, his heart was torn with pain. He often went to the gardens, where you spent time together. There he found comfort among the flowers that emperor loved so much.

Sylus tried to stand steadfastly, as the emperor asked him. He took on many responsibilities, maintaining order in the empire. However, every evening, when the work was finished, he felt emptiness and longing, which absolutely nothing could fill.

Rafayel’s heart was torn between the joy of waiting for a child and the horror of the unknown about the fate of you. He often cried, hugging his stomach and talking to the unborn child, telling him about you and how he was waiting for your return.

Zayne tried to support everyone else, but he felt deep despair. He tried to be an example of resilience, but tears often appeared in his eyes when he thought that their beloved emperor might never return.

Time passed, and although the hope for the return of the emperor faded, they continued to wait, believing that one day you would come back and hug them.

But one early morning, when the first rays of the sun lit up the horizon, a messenger knocked on the gate of the palace. His face was eaged, but joy shone in his eyes. He brought the news that everyone has been waiting for so long: the emperor is alive and well, won the war and will soon return home. This news spread around the palace like a forest fire. The city was filled with joy and joy. In honor of the return of the emperor, grandiose festivities were held. The streets were decorated with flowers and garlands, people took to the streets to greet each other and share joy. Events for the poor were organized on the main square. People sang and danced, music sounded everywhere. At night, the sky lit up with bright fireworks, which crumbled into colorful sparks, illuminating the dark sky. Every explosion was a symbol of hope, joy and faith in the future. People stood holding hands and looked up with smiles, knowing that their emperor would soon return.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

People gathered to meet their emperor. When the carriage decorated with red transparent curtains stopped, the emperor came out of it. You were dressed in a magnificent robe made of rich, bright red fabric that sparkled in the sun, shimmering with shades of scarlet and ruby. In the tradition of the empire, the red color symbolized the wedding.

The square, previously filled with joy, suddenly calmed down when a stranger came down from the carriage. He was dresed in exactly the same gorgeous red robe. His face was hidden behind a thin face veil, giving him mystery.

His eyes, sparkling through the face veil, were irresistibly beautiful and magical. These eyes were deep and alluring, like precious stones enclosed in a frame of delicate fabric. It was as if they radiated a magical light, attracting attention and delighting everyone who saw them.

His movements were smooth and gentle, like a light breeze sliding on the surface of the water. Each of his actions radiated grace and tranquility, adding even more charm to his figure. Whispers, admiration and awe were heard among the crowd, people could not take their eyes off him, feeling that they were witnessing a truly magical event.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Suddenly there was a sharp, piercing shot. The acute pain piercing your left shoulder made you shudder. You noticed how the sky was covered with a dark haze, and the noise of the battle gradually became distant and deaf. Around you, in chaos and confusion, your personal guards quickly lined up in a circle, their faces distorted fear. They acted with desperate determination to protect their lord.

With each breath, the pain increased, and the impulses in your body became weaker and weaker. Your consciousness was beginning to become cloudy, and you could barely distinguish the team screams that seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. As a result, your eyes closed, and you plunged into darkness, hearing only the heartbeats and the distant noise of fighting before your consciousness finally left you.

You regained consciousness from a sharp and painful feeling of pain, especially strong in the wounded shoulder. You opened eyes and saw rough stone walls and harsh faces of enemies in front of you.

You were brought to a large hall lit by the dim light of torches. In the center of the hall stood a throne on which your old enemy sat, who threatened in his voice demanded that you order your troops to retreat. Your answer sounded firm and decisive. Loud laughter echoed on the stone walls, adding to the horror of the situation.

Your attention was attracted by the guy standing on the right side of the throne. You've hardly looked up to see a person better. The guy was tall and slender, his posture spoke of the habit of behaving with dignity. His hair was dark, neatly combed. The face, as if turned from marble, was distinguished by regular features and a soft chin line. The eyes, deep and dark, seemed endless, they reflected the mind and inner anxiety. The shoulders were decorated with a light mantle, giving it the appearance of some important dignitary or a person close to the throne. On the hands, almost invisible in the twilight of the hall, the rings twinkled, each of which looked like a work of art. His serious face stood out against the background of general gilt and ridicule. The guy's look did not leave yours, he read some kind of internal struggle. He seemed to be busy with his own thoughts, trying to make an important decision. Sometimes his eyebrows frowned slightly, and for a moment he looked away, as if weighing the pros and cons.

You were thrown into a cold and damp dungeon. The stone walls were covered with mold, and the air was soaked in a musty smell. Each movement responded with unbearable pain in the wounded shoulder, and you felt your forces leaving you. Hunger tormented you, increasing your sense of despair. Thoughts about your native palace and your spouses tormented your heart, adding mental anguish to physical suffering.

Time passed slowly, and in the darkness of the dungeon it was impossible to say how many hours or days had passed. You began to lose hope when suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of the key turning in the lock of the door of your cells. With effort, through pain, you turned your head towards the sound.

The same man was standing in front of you. The light of the torch he was holding illuminated his face. He was beautiful and well-groomed, with smooth skin. There was tenderness in his eyes, in which understanding and compassion were felt. He didn't like a warrior or a guard, but rather a man from the highest circles, maybe even a courtier. He came closer and your eyes met.

"I’m here to help you," he said quietly, his voice low and soft.

"Please, allow me."

These words sounded like salvation, but you ware still on alert. You didn't know if you could trust this person, but your position left no choice.

He sat down next to you. His movements were cautious and confident. He took out a small knife from behind his belt and began to carefully cut the clothes around the wound, trying not to cause additional pain.

When the tissue was cut and removed, he carefully examined the wound, his face expressed a mixture of concentration and compassion. He quickly took out clean bandages and a flask of water, washing the wound and applying fresh bandages.

His fingers were warm and tender, and his hands seemed soft, as if he had never held a weapon in his hands. When the stranger bandaged the wound, your eyes met. At that moment, you noticed a blush on his cheeks, and he hurriedly looked away embarrassed.

He gave you a flask of water. The emperor greedily drank a few sips, feeling the cool water refreshing the tired body. He carefully took a piece of bread out of his belt and handed it to the emperor and gently covered you with a blanket, trying to provide as much comfort as possible in the cold dungeon. When he was about to go out, you held his hand, stopping him. Your voice was hoarse and tired.

"What's your name?" He smiled slightly, his face lit up with warmth.

"Caleb...your highness," he replied before leaving.

You guessed that Caleb was the son of your enemy from that moment on. However, Caleb's actions, his sincere care and self-sacrifice aroused your curiosity.

Masterlist

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rosecastiello · 10 months ago

Text

‘And There Were Three’ | (m)

pairing: sylus x zayne x afab/fem reader

contains: smut mdni, loosely l&ds based plot, unprotected sex, threesome, dom sylus, service top zayne, docile reader, mentions of abortion, strong language, short violence, sleepy sex, multiple orgasms, choking, daddy/kitten/doctor, established relationship between reader and zayne, big dick zaddy zayne, shlong slinging sylus, filthy unapologetic smut, slight zayne x sylus

word count: 3.5k

a.n. wow we’ve only known sylus for less than a week and my brain already went wild. before sylus came, i was very loyal to zayne, now i romance both of them and i couldn’t be happier with the game. and yes, that’s my avatar in the cover lol

my pronouns are he/they and i usually make afab/gender neutral smut to align with my own preferences. but i use she/her pronouns for the reader here to have continuity with the game’s canon.

anyways! tell me what you think of this threesome and if i should continue writing more (this definitely feels like part one to a bigger smut story…)

READER POV

Sylus was finally beginning to drive on some streets I recognized. My anxiety only worsened when I realized he was on the street of my own house. How does he know where I live?

"You're taking me home?" I asked.

"You won't resonate with me because you're uncomfortable with me," His dark voice said, "We should get to know each other in the place you're most comfortable."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. He was so focused on modding my Evol, it made me sick. When he parked in front of my house, I saw the lights on inside. Zayne was home from the hospital already and it was only ten o'clock at night.

"It's not good to leave the lights on."

"I-I didn't..." I stammered, "My boyfriend's home from work."

"So that's why you don't like me," He chuckled, "You've got your heart set on someone else. I guess I'll just have to give him a little greeting."

He grabbed his gun from his hip and reloaded bullets from his chest pocket. Assuming his plan, I swung the passenger door open and jumped out. Only for Sylus to catch me by my arm.

"You think I'm just gonna go in guns blazing," He asked but I remained silent, "This is just in case he tries anything with me. Self defense, kitten. Not like you'd know anything about that."

He let go of me and I was out of the car. He followed me to the front door and watched my shaky hands unlock it. Once inside he looked around for Zayne, but he wasn't reading on the couch like usual.

"Doctor Zayne?" I called, "I'm home."

"You call your boyfriend doctor?"

I ignore this and headed up the stairs. I could hear his loud footsteps behind me.

"Stay down here."

He took a step back and crossed his arms. His face made a cocky smirk that annoyed me, but I continued up the stairs and to my bedroom.

"Zayne?" He was no where to be found.

I took off my jacket and tried to settle in before going back downstairs. As soon as I caught my breath, I heard a sudden gunshot from the distance. I darted out of my room and down the stairs. I ran into the kitchen to see Sylus pointing his gun at Zayne.

"Sylus, what have you-." I paused, finally noticing the bullet frozen on the ground.

"You didn't tell me he had an ice Evol."

"Who is this man?" Zayne said calmly.

"Zayne, this is Sylus. The leader of Onychinus."

"And what is he doing here."

"I'm here to get properly acquainted with your girlfriend so we can resonate."

"Excuse me, [Reader], you're letting him do this?"

"We made a deal. I have to." I said weakly.

Zayne stepped forward, over the bullet on the ground. He wore the shirt I love him in, glasses and barefoot. He was comfortable. I felt horrible for bringing this mess home with me.

"Sylus, is it?"

"Doctor Zayne," He coos lowly "You're really a doctor?"

"Heart surgeon," He said with a stern voice, "Judging by your pale skin and red eyes, you're a vampire. Would I be correct?"

"You're smart," He looked over at me, "How did a ditz like you get someone like him?"

With that, Zayne froze Sylus' hand to his gun and pushed him against the wall.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Or what, Doctor Zayne," He asked rhetorically, "If I can't insult her, what should I say? That she'd make the perfect fuck doll and she'll need you to patch her up when I'm done with her."

My heart pounded. How could he say that out loud to my boyfriend of all people?

"Arguably, I'd say that's worse," Zayne hissed, still holding the man against the wall, "Sylus, I think you should leave before you cause any more trouble."

"Ah, come on, Doctor Zayne. You can't tell me you've never looked at her and didn't want to tear her apart."

Sylus cracked the ice on the wall, put his gun in the holster and grabbed Zayne's face. He forced my own boyfriend to look at me. My heart beat only increased.

"I mean look at the way that top hugs her breasts. And how tight her pants are. Those hips would be perfect to grab onto as you rail her from behind."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to sleep with her."

"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you got hard just by looking at her," Sylus sneered before fixing Zayne's gaze to himself, "Or was it the sound of my voice?"

"That's enough," I said, trying to separate the two, but they were both much stronger than me and neither of them budged, "It's one thing to objectify me but it's another to seduce my boyfriend. What are you trying at?"

"I'm just playing a little game, kitten."

"What kind of game?" Zayne asked, I felt his shoulders relax and heard his voice soften.

"How about I make you a deal," Sylus said, finally using his strength to push Zayne off of him, "I need her to be comfortable with me to resonate with her. How about we make her cum-fortable?"

"You think I'm going to let you screw around with my girl?"

"As much as I want to, and as much as your cock wants me to," He said, snickering at Zayne's twitching bulge, "I had something else in mind."

"And when were you gonna ask me?" I interjected.

"Kitten," He growled as he brought his cold hand to my chin, "Can daddy help Doctor Zayne make you cum?"

I was appalled. But I couldn't lie; I was intrigued. And judging my Zayne, he seemed to be intrigued too.

"Zayne, why are you okay with this?"

"I'm not asking him, I'm asking you like you wanted. So answer me."

"You're not gonna hurt me, are you?"

"Not unless you want us to."

"You're not gonna hurt Zayne?"

"I promise I won't hurt Doctor Zayne."

I think on it a bit more. Zayne isn't protesting and he's managed to retain his erection in his sweatpants. This must be something he was into for a while, but hadn't told me about.

"Under one condition." I say.

"Yes, kitten?"

"Leave all of your weapons on the counter."

"As you wish." He says, releasing my chin and unloading his gun, tasers, and pocket knives onto the kitchen counter.

Zayne grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. He sits down and puts me on his lap.

"You didn't answer my question," I say, "Why are you okay with this?"

"To help you with your deal."

"That's not all, Zayne." I said, palming his clothed bulge.

"You already look so beautiful with one person treating you," He said as his hand gently snaked up my back and to my neck, "I've always imagined what you'd look like with two."

I knew it.

"R-really?" I asked, my body became hot, "How come you never told me?"

"The desire was never that extreme to ask a prude to engage in a ménage à trois. Plus, I've never had a third candidate in mind until now."

"Prude? You're bi?"

"You ask too many questions, kitten," Sylus said from behind me, startling me, "It's not that he's bi, it's that he wants to see how fucked out you can actually be."

"And if I was bi?" Zayne asked, looking up at Sylus. I'd never seen him look so submissive.

"You couldn't handle me, Doctor Zayne," He chuckled, "Besides this isn't about your pleasure, it's about hers. Don't be selfish."

Sylus snuck his hand under mine and prompted me to stand up. He turned me towards Zayne and stood tall behind me, silhouette engulfing my boyfriend. His presence was so daunting, intimidating. I always knew Zayne was strong but Sylus' strength is superhuman... Vampiric. I thought he was joking earlier.

I felt his cold hands hovering over my shoulders. They reached down my chest to the collar of my shirt.

RIP

I gasped, looking down at my bare breasts. To my surprise, Zayne doesn't struggle to look me in the eyes.

"Her tits are down here," Sylus propped my tit up in his hand while his arm supported the other. It was like he was presenting them to Zayne, "Perform your oral, Doctor Zayne."

Only then did Zayne's eyes wander downwards. He leaned in and let his tongue play with my nipple. I saw one of his hands come to my side and the other to his core. His mouth felt so good on my body.

We didn’t have sex often due to our work schedules. So when we do got time like that, I was always blissfully reminded of how good my lover feels.

Sylus hummed in my ear and it genuinely sounded both devilish and heavenly. The deep richness was born in hell. But the smoothness and seductiveness made it heavenly.

His free hand went down to my waist and the button on my pants. He was an expert, it seemed. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans with ease.

"W-what're you doing?" I moaned.

"I'm not gonna finger you, that's Zayne's job."

Sylus pressed his middle and ring finger on my clit from the outside of my panties and slowly toyed at the nub. Am I already about to cum? Is it because I don't orgasm often?

Regardless, the pleasure made me throw my head back on Sylus' chest. I knew he was attractive, but how was he so hot even from upside down.

"Fuck." I whimpered as my I felt my underwear become wet with cum.

"Our kitten came already? We're nowhere near done with you."

Sylus let go of me and I fell into Zayne's lap again. Zayne kissed my neck as he inches my pants off. Sylus took off his pants too. Even in his underwear, his cock was huge.

Without a word, Zayne readjusted me so I would sit directly on top of his dick. It slid inside me easily. He used his knees to separate my legs. My pussy seemed to be on display for Sylus. That prompted him to throw his underwear down, making his cock spring up and hit his stomach. With Zayne thrusting into me and watching Sylus play with himself, I felt a bit overstimulated.

"Look at yourself." Sylus eyed my pussy as Zayne slid in and out of me.

I looked down to see what Sylus was on about; Zayne's cock glistened with my slick. I don't know what turned me on more. Was it watching Zayne disappear inside me or was it Sylus watching Zayne disappear inside me.

Sylus stepped toward me, thick, hard cock staring directly at me. I could tell he wanted me to put my mouth on him, but I refused. I knew Zayne well enough to know he'd get jealous if I gave another guy a blowjob.

As Zayne continued to thrust inside me, his hand went under my arm and to my neck, lightly choking me. I remember asking him for this months ago, but he didn't understand why I wanted him to do something like that. What’s gotten into him? Whatever it is, I love it.

I looked back at my boyfriend and caught him staring lustfully at Sylus' member. He was so focused and I could feel him twitch and throb inside of me.

Sylus lifted his leg onto the couch, bringing his dick dangerously close to my face. Zayne's firm hand on my neck prevented me from pulling away. Just when I thought Sylus would bring his dick to my lips, he put his hand on the back of Zayne's head and forced his dick into his mouth. I’d never seen Zayne like that before. It was shocking, but it was so hot.

I stared intently at Zayne’s mouth as it stretched to Sylus’ size. I saw him wince and moan everytime his tip hit the back of his throat. His eyes began to water behind his glasses and when the first tear fell, I felt his grip on my neck tighten.

“You’re fogging up his glasses, kitten.” Sylus moaned.

He decided to give Zayne’s mouth a break as he carefully removed his glasses and dropped them onto the far end of couch.

“Why’d you stop?” Zayne groaned lowly.

“You didn’t look like you could handle it, Doctor Zayne,” Sylus said, taking his foot off of the couch and sitting next to him, “Taking me is not for the weak. Isn’t that right, kitten?”

I struggled to protest. Zayne felt so good inside me and his grip felt so erotic on my throat. I couldn’t find the words to assure Zayne that I’ve never fucked him.

“You’re not weak, are you, [Reader]?” Zayne whispered into my ear.

“N-no.” My moan was cut off by the strong pulse I felt in my core. I closed my eyes to focus on the feeling.

My clit was pulsating and my walls were closing in on Zayne’s member. The feeling was so intense, I couldn’t control my legs from shaking. I clawed at Zayne’s strong arm, but I didn’t want him to take his hand off of my neck.

“Fuck…” Zayne moaned softly. He never cursed in front of me before, “Can I fill you with my cum, baby.”

Before I could answer the question, I felt his warm seed coating my insides. And my legs only shook more violently. I opened my eyes and glanced over at Sylus who just was watching us and stroking his cock.

Zayne lifted me off of his dick and I saw his cum pour out of me and onto his pelvic mound.

“Look at you whimpering and shaking like a leaf,” Sylus chuckled, “Are you sure you’re not weak.”

“I’m sure.” I said, trying to catch my breath.

I lied back on Zayne’s chest. I wasn’t weak, but I was tired. I had already orgasmed twice at the end of a long day. I wasn’t sure I could take anymore.

“You’re nearly drifting off to sleep,” Sylus got up and scooped me into his arms, “Doctor Zayne, show me to her room. I think we should finish her off in the bed.”

My boyfriend led Sylus to the bedroom upstairs with me in his arms. Zayne lied on the bed first and Sylus put me down softly. Zayne snuck his arm under my head and cuddled me from the side. He spread my legs and rested one of them on his thigh.

Through my eyelashes I saw Sylus remove his sweater, and revealing his insanely muscular body. He was completely naked, staring at me and eating me up with his eyes. He then climbed onto the bed and on top of me.

“Even when you’re weary, you still look scared of me,” He said, “Don’t worry, you can handle it.”

His tip flirted with me dangerously. Sylus ever so gently pushed his member into me. My eyes widened at the girth as he stretched me out so much. Zayne is big but Sylus is bigger. He’s not even all the way in. I felt my face contort in reaction to his size.

“Oh my god.” I whisper against my will, I didn’t want Zayne to hear me.

“Look at yourself,” Sylus said, glancing down, “You take me so well, kitten.”

When I looked down, I saw a lump in my lower stomach from his cock. I let out a shaky breath from the sight.

“You’re doing so well.” Zayne said.

With that, I melted into his voice and my body melted onto Sylus. He pulled out just enough to let his tip remain inside then slowly trusted into me. He kept that rhythm, letting me feel every inch of him.

Zayne caressed my face and lovingly kissed my forehead and cheek. But I was needy. All this fucking and not a single one of them kissed my lips. I angled my lips to Zayne’s and he kissed me back passionately.

“That’s cute. Kissing your boyfriend makes you cream all over my cock.”

I didn’t realize my body reacting to that sensation. But hearing him say that brought me close to another orgasm. I moaned into Zayne’s lips and he kissed me harder, letting his tongue play with my lips. Sylus kept his pace steady and I felt my walls closing in on his cock, same way I did with Zayne.

“Come on, kitten, cum on daddy’s cock.”

I bit down on Zayne’s lip. He slid his hand down my torso and massaged my clit. My legs started shaking again.

“You can do it.” Zayne said into my ear.

“Cum for me.” Sylus demanded.

“You’re almost there.”

“Good girl.”

All of my senses muted as I fell into a deep sleep.

3rd PERSON POV

Her body lied limply on the bed as her orgasm put her to sleep. Once Sylus pulled out of her, Zayne closed her legs to give her some decency. Then he took his arm from under her head and went to the bathroom attached to the bedroom while Sylus sat on the edge of the bed.

He came back with a warm, damp towelette and began cleaning her up as she slept peacefully. He used the towel to soak up the fluids from around her core so she can sleep more comfortably.

“You didn’t cum inside her, did you?” Zayne clarified.

“Not even close. It takes a lot more than that to get me off.” Sylus said as he reached over to grab the towel.

“I can do it.”

“I believe you, Doctor Zayne, but you missed a spot,” He said, quickly correctly him, “Besides when I do cum in her, trust I have the means to take care of it.”

“As if I’d let you touch her again. As if I’d let you raise her baby.”

“When I say ‘take care of it’ I mean abort it. A ditz like her can’t raise a child.”

“What did I say about talking about her like that.”

She began stirring in her sleep. Both Zayne and Sylus remained silent until she settled down, refusing to take a breath. Once she was still again, Zayne moved to properly take off her ripped shirt.

“I assume you have the means to replace this then.”

“Tenfold,” Sylus chuckled darkly, “Y’know, it’s funny that you hold such animosity towards me since my cock was down your throat just a minute ago.”

“Sylus, is it? The only thing we have in common is [Reader],” He said, covering her naked body with the blankets on the bed, “I only did that to help her.”

“Sure.” He smirked.

Zayne swallowed hard and went to the nearby dresser. He retrieved a pair of night pants and a hoodie before throwing both at Sylus.

“Cover yourself,” He said before getting his own pair of pants and sliding them on, “If you’re going to spend the night you should be comfortable.”

“I don’t need these. And I don’t need to spend the night.”

“You’re [Reader]’s guest. You should say a proper goodbye before you leave. And you’ll do that when she wakes up in the morning.”

“I suppose a proper goodbye would make her trust me enough to Resonate with me.”

“Precisely. But surely there were other ways to get her comfortable with you, hm?”

“Of course. This was just much more fun.”

Sylus slipped on the clothes that were surprisingly a good fit. Zayne gestured him downstairs and Sylus followed.

“You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, although we need to go grocery shopping. If you’d prefer to order something in, you’re more than welcome to. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“I must admit, your hospitality is admirable. Especially considering how the night began.” Sylus said, looking over at the bullet with a melted ice puddle beneath it on the floor.

“It’s for her, not for you.”

“Sure.” He said again, sitting on the couch.

“Goodnight, Sylus.”

“Your glasses, Doctor Zayne?” He said, holding up the specks with a small smirk on his face.

Zayne grabbed them but Sylus didn’t let go.

“I can tell that you don’t trust me around her. But you have my word when I say, I’d never try anything funny without her permission or without your knowledge.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I didn’t become the leader of Onychinus by being a liar. My people trust me because I never gave them a reason not to.” He said, finally letting go of the glasses, “Goodnight, Doctor Zayne.”

295 notes · View notes

rosecastiello · 10 months ago

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☾ .⭒˚ misty invasion - hidden motive ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x female reader (afab)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 3.6k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch but is a link to all dubs for the memory this is based off of: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0SvtZ1EspWU

☾ .⭒˚ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58061581/chapters/147819223

⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…

hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —”

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

tag list: @bitchykittenconnoisseur @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun @achicilove

8K notes · View notes

rosecastiello · 10 months ago

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Sylus & Zayne As Your Bodyguards [NSFW]

characters: sylus & zayne x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, reader has implied anger issues, millionaire reader, bratty reader, bodyguards sylus & zayne, nipple sucking, fingering, clit teasing, oral (f! receiving), anal fingering, anal penetration, double penetration (piv), no protection, overstimulation

-----

"Bring me your expensive one" You sighed, sitting yourself onto the stools in the store, your bodyguards both standing on each of your side. Holding all the bags that had every product you bought.

The shop was empty with only employees standing in a straight line with their hands clasped together in front of their waists, sweat visibly dripping from their foreheads as they watched you cross your legs. You weren't in a good mood today.

No one in the world doesn't know you. You might as well be considered as the next Elon Musk. A young woman that is a wealthy self made millionaire, teenagers want to be you and women want to be with you.

Your success skyrockets everytime, even a step into a country has the charts doing zig zags, you can't lie when you say you love the attention and wealth you have. The past you would've wanted to be the current you as soon as possible.

Because of your dangerous status, you needed to have bodyguards by your side. It was clear to the press or anyone of the matter that you always had two of your favorite bodyguards by your side.

Their names were Sylus and Zayne.

The two men are quite talented in what they do, one would be extremely patient with you while the other would advise you on what not to do and what you should do. A perfect duo, almost like ying and yang.

Today you were shopping in China. At this point you've step foot on every shop there is in the mall, the one you're currently at probably being your 100th one. Specifically selling shoes.

"Ma'am, it's getting late soon. Shall we head home after this?" Your bodyguard, Zayne said in a monotone yet reminding voice, you glanced at the gold watch on your wrist with a furrowed brow.

"I still haven't gotten everything out of my system" You grumbled. This wouldn't have happened if the person you were going to meet today hadn't cancelled the date on you earlier.

You were supposed to meet a millionaire like you on a date in China, and yet that no good of a man ditched you last minute. You're literally worth more than him, how dare he leave you in the dust like you're nobody.

"Here is our limited edition shoes, Ma'am. A collaboration with the two best shoe companies in Ch-"

"Forget it. I'm not interested" You held your hand up to cut off the employee before standing up. Grabbing your purse in the process before walking- or rather, storming off.

Everyone knew that once you were angry about something, it sticks for quite a while.

As you walked out of the mall, you waited for Sylus to open the car door for you as you sat yourself in the back passenger seat, then he sat himself at the front while Zayne took the drivers seat.

You took out your phone before dialing a certain number, the car started with absolute silence as you held the device close to your ear, waiting for the person on the other line to pickup the call.

"Yes Ma'am-"

"Cancel everything with that man! And let it be known that I will sue him if he does not return all my gifts within the next 12 hours! I don't care if he isn't in the country just do it NOW!!"

You yelled, almost letting out a growl by how enraged you were.

Despite being a millionaire that everyone looks up to, there was a side of you no one, including the press, knows about.

You had extreme anger issues.

"You know what? I want a hitman"

You suddenly said, not noticing the looks you were getting from your bodyguards in front of you through the glass mirror in between the front of the car, debating on whether they should calm you down at the moment.

"M-Ma'am please calm down-"

Big mistake.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down???" You repeated, not realising the grip on your purse had already caused a crack on the tiny mirror you had inside it.

"Okay. I'll calm down" You said sweetly, but you weren't smiling.

"But you're fired."

With one press, you hung up. Refraining yourself from throwing your phone at the floor. At the same time, you had already reached your hotel, and Sylus had already opened the car door for you to walk out.

You stomped out the car, if you were ever reminded you should praise the company that made your heels, because they were able to withstand any pressure you put on them.

When you finally reached into the elevator, you tapped your foot continuously with crossed arms as Zayne pressed on the number of your floor, the silence was completely filled in with the continuous taps.

In a ding you reached your floor, and you walked out almost immediately, you stood in front of your room door before taking out your card and pressing it onto the scanner to unlock it.

Almost like an instinct, you ran onto the sofa and dropped your body, removing your heels and jacket off while your two bodyguards stood beside you in silence.

"Get me a drink" You ordered, right now you needed something to remove that fog that was clouding your head, and a drink would suffice.

"I don't think that will be a good idea, Ma'am. You still have an appointment to go to early in the morning" Sylus said, he had a straight face on as he told you this.

"Are you going against my orders?" You tilted your head to look at him, flashing him a look that would've threatened his job.

"No. I'm just suggesting something better" He answered, you could almost see a smirk forming in his lips as Zayne stood beside him with a straight face.

"And what's that?"

Suddenly, you were pushed onto the bed. You used your arms to hold yourself up as you watched your two bodyguards loosened their ties in front of you, this was the first time behaving this way, and yet you were intrigued.

Did they finally catch on you having the hots for them?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Zayne crawled himself onto you, planting a kiss onto your lips in a few smooches, before putting a hand to your cheek and leaning in for a deeper kiss.

Like an instinct, you kissed him back hungrily. You had no idea you were so starved for touch until now.

You watched as Sylus went beside Zayne, lifting up your shirt to remove it. Zayne released his lips from yours to let Sylus remove your shirt before kissing your again.

At the same time you felt Sylus unclasp your strapless bra, removing it off your body before sucking on your right nipple, making your breathe hitch against Zayne's lips.

Unexpectingly, Zayne had removed his lips from yours once again, now he was doing the same thing as Sylus, and he also began sucking on your left nipple. Now you had both men teasing your nipples with their mouths while your mouth let out shameless tiny moans, holding back from creating any noise.

You felt Sylus' hands move to your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear. Now you were completely naked while all they had removed was their ties, a little bit embarrassing, but you won't let the night finish unless they were completely naked with you.

Without realising, you already had a pool of arousal around your cunt, possibly leaving a string of it when Sylus removed your underwear. You had no idea you were this pent up.

Zayne's hands also began working, his fingers circled itself around your wet and sticky hole, almost building up the anticipation that he will put them in, but instead he just curls up enough of your slick and moves upwards to your clit, rubbing the wetness onto it.

"Eep-!"

You instictively twitched and the sudden contact of his gentle fingers on your clit, the wetness making his strokes on your clit more smoother. You could feel your hole clenching to push out more of your juices when he did that.

Sylus seeing how much you enjoyed having your clit played with wanted to participate as well, so he used the same hands that pulled your clothes off to circle around your hole like how Zayne did earlier, except this time, he slipped his finger inside with a squelch.

A loud moan left your lips when you felt Sylus' thick finger push into your twitching hole, satisfying the need of something to plug you up before anymore juices had left your body.

Not even a minute later he gave a few thrusts into your hole before adding two more fingers inside, now three fingers were gushing in and out of your hole, all while Zayne was teasing your clit and you had your nipples sucked on by the two men.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes back, laying your head against the bed headboard as you let the two men monopolize your body, letting every slurp of your nipples and every squelch of your cunt fill up the room's silence.

Had you knew the two were this skilled in bed you would have cancelled the stupid dates you've had with multiple men beforehand. It hadn't even felt like 30 minutes had passed by yet you already felt like you were going to cum, and you didn't bother holding yourself back.

You unconciously moaned louder with each thrust, feeling your hole clench around Sylus' fingers uncontrollably while Zayne's fingers kept on egging on your orgasm through your clit, in no time making you come undone when your orgasm arrived.

"A-Ah!!"

You held onto the backs of the two men for support as your cunt twitched under their fingers, you would've reached down to grab their wrists and stop them from moving whilst you were coming, but their faces on your tits were in the way.

Once they rode out your orgasm, the two removed their lips from your breasts with a pop. Now your nipples were sensitive, wet and swollen from how long and harsh they've been sucking on it, your areolas look puffy and red.

Without any warning, Sylus suddenly switched the positions between you and him. Now you were hovering on top of him while he was sitting below you, like how Zayne was kissing you earlier, he took the chance to kiss you as well.

Compared to Zayne's gentle and yearning kiss, Sylus' was more aggressive and hungry. You didn't notice that your cum was dripping onto his crotch since you were hovering over him, until you felt Zayne's hand rub itself onto your wet hole.

You didn't say anything and only focused on the kiss for the time being, your cunt did feel a bit sensitive from the fingering and orgasm, but you could handle another one.

Then you felt his hand slowly move upwards towards the other you had, rubbing it up and down in a swift moment that made your eyes wide open and break the kiss from you and Sylus.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" You yelled, turning your head to glare at Zayne who only locked in his eyes with yours, though you didn't expect to see him blushing with his ice cold face.

"It's alright, I know how to make it feel good" He said calmly, almost like he was in daze before he continued to rub his wet and sticky hands onto your anus, teasing the action that he will out in a finger soon.

Maybe it's because you were getting lost in the moment, but you let him continue on what he was doing, trusting him that he would do as he said and make you feel good as you waited for him to put in the first finger.

Sylus watching your eyes glued onto what Zayne was doing behind you probably felt a little jealous, because then he slowly slid himself down and forced your soaking cunt to meet with his face.

"S-Sylus!" You called out to the white haired man, who only smirked at you.

You felt yourself getting a little angry at his sudden smug personality until you were caught off guard by his lips locking in with your clit, since Zayne took the time to tease your hole while Sylus was kissing you the sensitivity you had earlier recovered, but it still brought a shiver to your spine when you felt his warm mouth on your cunt.

You were going to let out a whimper at Sylus' naughty approach until you felt a finger enter inside you at a hole you don't usually take in, making you let out a desperate moan and unconciously rub your cunt onto Sylus' mouth.

While Sylus worked his tongue onto your clit with each flick and suck, Zayne was thrusting a finger in and out of your hole, almost controlling your hips to move front and back to force you into taking the friction and have you moan uncontrollably.

The feeling of Sylus' tongue flicking around your clit then licking down to your hole and letting your clit touch his nose almost drove you insane, and the pressure of Zayne adding another finger inside you wasn't helpful either, the mix of discomfort and pleasure almost made your eyes roll back once again.

You couldn't help but continue to moan at the pleasures of having your holes played with, the more you leaked your juices the more Sylus would swallow it all down his throat and into his stomach, sticking his tongue out almost like he would swallow you whole if he wanted to.

Zayne made it clear that your hole was ready when you noticed how easily his fingers could suddenly move inside you, feeling each time his fingers would stretch your hole open to ensure it wouldn't be too tight to cause any displeasure, you almost felt embarrassed once again when you realised just what you were letting your bodyguards do to you.

Distracted by the overwhelming feeling of cumming again, Zayne continued to thrust his slender fingers in and out of you while Sylus worked hard to make you cum from your clit once again, like before, you felt a knot tie itself onto your stomach as your moans gradually became louder, indicating your orgasm was coming again.

You clenched your legs around Sylus' head, hands gripping onto the headboard for support as you stuck your ass out without even realizing to feel Zayne's fingers pound into the same direction where your orgasm was pooling in.

Before you could even react, your eyes lost it's focus before rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth hung itself wide open to let out the nasty noises you've been trying so hard to suppress.

You shamelessly let your body twitch onto Sylus' face, letting him lap his tongue all over your hole while you were still cumming until you finally calmed down.

Zayne removed his fingers from your hole to let it twitch around the air by its own before unzipping his pants to finally let his hard cock out, Sylus sitting up to wipe his mouth with his thumb and lick off any excess cum before doing the same with his zipper.

You watched as Zayne picked you up and made your front face him while your back face Sylus. Before you could even process your second orgasm, Zayne had already aligned his dick into your hole and pushed it inside, making your hole clamp onto his dick so hard from the unexpected greeting, as well as having another stimulating feeling onto your lower region for the 3rd time.

You let out a broken moan when you felt Sylus do the same to your ass, pushing his dick in slowly yet easily until your hole was completely filled in with his cock, making you have tears growing in your eyes from the pain and pleasure.

"W-Wai-"

Before you could even tell the two to give you a moment, they gave you one big thrust in unison. The movement caught you off guard so hard you could barely make a noise, your mouth was stuck open waiting to let out even a small croak, yet only the sound of both your wet holes filled in the silence.

You helplessly wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck and took in the hungry thrusts Sylus and Zayne were making you take, your sensitive nipples brushing against Zayne's shirt as he gave your neck tiny kisses.

Sylus' dick would've probably been too much to bare alone, but thanks to Zayne's dick hitting all the right spots in you, the discomfort Sylus was plunging into you only enhanced your pleasure to the point you were drooling and whimpering onto Zayne's neck.

What felt like almost an hour, you still continued to take in the thrusts of the two men inside you helplessly. Your moans now sounding like broken squeaks, at this point you've already came 5 times now.

You thought it was never going to end with these two, but then you felt their dicks twitch inside your soaking wet holes, the mushy feeling of your insides tighted up to force them to cum inside you as deep as they could, and that's what they did.

In the past 2 hours, they finally let out their first ejaculations. Filling your holes up to the point you could feel it moving inside you, a satisfied and relieved moan leaves your lips as you hear them groan together from your impressive hooks onto your holes.

The two didn't remove their dicks out of you yet, instead, while they were inside you, Zayne laid you down onto the pillows while doing the same with Sylus, now the three of you were laying together with you facing Zayne and Sylus behind you.

You thought they were going to let you sleep with their cocks inside you, until you felt a hand grip your thigh and lift it up, giving the two more access to move their hips freely, which made your eyes widen.

"Ma'am..." Zayne called out for you, his eyes looking as if they were deep in lust and daze while Sylus smirked behind you, both men blushing aggressively.

"Let's do one more round, please"

It seemed like the two men weren't going to stop at one round. You better hope you can still walk after tonight.

-----

A/N: I SAID I WILL DELIVER YOU ZAYNE AND SYLUS SMUT AND WHAT DID I DO?

DELIVERED IT!!

this waaaasss supposed to be an omegaverse where reader was in heat and Sylus and Zayne were alpha bodyguards (idea inspired by sakimenz on insta with Gojo and Geto) but then I realised im not into omegaverse stories as much as I thought i was (unfortunately)

BUT i hope this was a way more better approach then what I intended!!

p.s.

how i imagined reader in this oneshot SHSHHAHA

EDIT: if this post gets 1k notes in the next 2 to 3 days i'll make a oneshot of Sylus and Zayne as reader's sugar daddies cause im unstoppable ✨️😋

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rosecastiello · 10 months ago

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da SFW 🔞 we need ❤️‍🔥

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rosecastiello · 1 year ago

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Peach Pie and Cream

Jack Reacher x F! Southern Waitress Reader (Amazon TV show, Alan Ritchson)

Warning: Some fighting, suggestive descriptions, cutesy

Summary: Our giant man Reacher meets a charming young waitress :) and takes care of people ;)

Word Count: ~2,115 words

A/N: There will be a part 2 eventually lol

Master List - Tag List Sign-Up (tags at the bottom)

“What can I get you, sugar?”

God, the way she called him “Sugar” practically dripped from her lip-gloss covered lips like hot honey. Her breasts threatening to spill out of her lacy unpadded bra - it’s dark color barely showing through her low-cut white top.

He knew not to look, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t.

But one peek wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t even seven-thirty in the morning when she’d walked over to him with a pen and a little notepad.

Reacher sat up, his body erect as she spoke so sweetly to him. His eyes quickly glanced at her bosom, then made eye contact with her, showing a crooked smile, “Good morning, what are your specials?”

Y/N gave him a small smile as she caught the flicker in his eyes as he lifted them to meet yours. “Our breakfast specials include the garlic biscuit sliders with chicken, sausage, or ham…” She leaned over slightly and pointed on the menu on the table at the various specials.

Y/N’s perfume smelled so sweet. Hints of peaches and vanilla.

No. He can’t be distracted. He had to meet Neagly later.

He smiled as he looked back up at her, he didn’t hear half of what Y/N just said about the menu, just glancing at the worn out name tag that said her name. Her cheeks blushed slightly as he looked at her, the two of them were rather close.

Smiling at her, he asked, “I’ll have the garlic biscuit with the sausage special. Can I get extra bacon and a slice of your peach pie?”

“Yes, sir, you can. You want ice tea or coffee to drink?”

“Coffee is fine. Just black.”

She quickly glanced down at his large and firm chest and then back up at his eyes. He smirked even more.

Y/N bit her lower lip and then stood upright, writing his order down, “Sure thing, honey. I’ll be right back in a few.”

And those few minutes took an eternity. Reacher’s thighs began to itch as he watched her walk back to the back counter, leaning over so she could give the chef his order through the heating lamps, blushing in playful annoyance, with the cook winking and pursed lips, making kissing noises at her until she rolled her eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

He barely knew her but the sight of the cook irritated him. That’s no way to treat you - even if it was banter between coworkers. He’d been in town for merely a few hours.

He tried to look away. He really did. But the way her hips swayed and her chest moved, her apron tight and snug around her waist, her soft body spilling out from the sides of the apron and the top of her jeans. Every time she stood by a table to take an order, she always shifted her weight to her left, her left hip pushing out of the top of her jeans.

He always liked a full woman.

Chuckling to himself, he turned slightly to keep himself from boring holes on her ass. He glanced out the window but was thankfully disturbed by the smell of her and the food he ordered.

“Here we got today’s special with extra bacon and a cup o’joe, hot and ready just for you, honey. I’m all out of peach pie but I got one coming out of the oven any secon’ now. You want some ice cream with that pie?” She laid his food down gently, he gave you a grin and thanked you, “Careful, plate’s hot, honey.”

“Ice cream would hurt my teeth but I’ll take it since you suggested it.” Reacher caught her blush.

“I’ll make a note of it. Enjoy your food and let me know if ya need anything, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled and picked up his utensils.

She winked at him and walked away, picking up a pot of coffee to replenish cups of other patrons and swatting away advances from men in their sixties on her way back to the back counter.

After a while, Y/N walked back with a plate of peach pie covered in a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and placed it in front of him.

“One large piece of fresh peach pie with a heaping scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream for the gentleman,” She said cheerfully and replenished his coffee.

He couldn’t help but smile at her, “Why on earth would you work here?” He asked bluntly, but with a soft chuckle at the end.

“Well, I got bills to pay. Just like everyone else.” She chuckled. “You ain’t got no bills?”

God, he’d do anything to hear Y/N laugh again.

“No, I don’t.”

“No bills at all?” She shook your head slightly, smiling still, thinking he’s joking.

“I have no reason to lie.”

She stared at him, not quite sure if she actually believed him or not. Most of her customers told her a few wild things here and there. But no one around these parts looked quite like him.

He was a behemoth of a man standing taller than the green giant on a can of peas, bigger and more muscular than those lumberjacks on those Brawny paper towels. His one arm was probably the size of one of her soft and plush thighs that seemed to be restricted on those skinny jeans she’s wearing.

“Aight.” She chuckled again. Her name was called, and she glanced at a group of young men about your age who dog-whistled and hollered at her. Y/N turned back around to Reacher and forced a smile, “You enjoy your pie, sir, I’ll be back in a bit with your bill. Just holler if you need anything, yeah?”

“You know them?” Reacher suddenly turned serious. His attention was on those young men who banged on the table, demanding that she serve them.

“I-I’m sorry about them, I’ll tell them to quiet down in a minute. They’re just a little rowdy-“

“That’s not what I asked. Do you know them?” He asked again, looking up at her. Her demeanor changed. Embarrassment. She could pick out that pleather jacket out from a crowd.

Blushing slightly in embarrassment, she answered, “I know one of them… that one in the sport’s jacket. The rest are his little friends. But I’ll tell them to-“

Before she could finish, Reacher stood up from his seat, his mere size making you gasp. She hadn’t realized how large he actually was until he stood up, she hadn’t seen him when he first walked in.

“Sir- please you don’t have to talk to them, what are you doin-“

“Your name is Y/N?”

“Y-Yes…” she clutched the handle of the coffee pot to make sure she didn’t drop it. He glanced down at her and gave her a half-smirk, “Just go stay behind the counter and put the coffee back on the machine so it doesn’t get cold.”

Not knowing what to think, Y/N did what he asked, the other waitresses following suit, other customers either staying in their seats or moving away as they watched Reacher walk up to the group of rowdy young men who still tried to get your attention.

He grabbed a chair and sat it by the edge of the table and sat down. Even sitting down, his large body frame towered over them. He didn’t say anything at first but looked at them smugly for a moment as they all stared at him.

The main culprit looked like he had a vein about to pop out of his forehead, “Can I help you?”

“Any reason you need Y/N to help you?”

“She’s a waitress, and I’ve been trying to get her number for a hot minute - she works here, of course she’s going to serve us.” He scoffed.

“I don’t appreciate you calling her over like she’s a dog, Pleather.”

—

“This will just sting a little-“

“Y/N, I’m fine-“

“No you ain’t, Reacher. Your brow and your lip is all busted up and that one guy had a knife.” Y/N shook her head as she cleaned up his brow with some alcohol and then put a small bandage on his forehead.

Reacher smiled at her the whole time as he let her patch him up. She’d taken him off to the side. Moaning in the distance outside, incoherent cursing could be heard from the parking lot as the group of young men eventually stood up from the ground and made it back to their car. The main culprit was hanging out in the parking lot, looking through the window at Y/N and Reacher. He spit on the ground before finally going back to his car.

“But I’m serious, Reacher… you ain’t have to do that…” Once she finished, Y/N put the extra bandages back in the First Aid kit and looked at him with concern.

“Well, I did it anyway. And last I checked, you’re not a dog.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and then patted his shoulder. “You’re sweet. Sorry about your pie, the ice cream is all melted. I’ll get you a new one.”

“You eat that new one, I’ll eat mine.” Reacher was not one to waste food if he could help it - especially when trouble seemed to follow him. Smiling softly, she nodded and patted his shoulder before going back behind the counter and cutting her own slice of pie as Reacher walked back to his seat, waiting and watching as Y/N walked back and sat opposite of him.

Like teenagers, they couldn’t keep eye contact while trying to eat their peach pie.

“That was some military fightin’ back there, Reacher? Is it ok if I call you Reacher?” Y/N managed to muster out, clearing his throat and looking up at him.

Chuckling softly, Reacher nodded, “Yeah, I was in for a while.” He paused for a moment, watching her eat. The stories she must’ve heard from people. The restaurant was quiet again. She looked up at him, giving him a small smile. “Jack is fine too.”

“Jack? That’s your first name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jack Reacher.” She said. She was quiet for a second as she examined him. Taking in his appearance. Committing him to memory. She sucked the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head. Savoring his name, as if she took a bite of him like she did that pie. The sweetness in her voice dripping from her lips as she said his whole name. Sweeter than the half-eaten peach pies sitting before them.

“I like it. Hard to forget a name like that. It’s different. You stayin’ here long, Jack?” She scooped the last bit of pie and placed the spoon face down on her tongue, sucking off whatever peach pie remnants were left on the spoon before placing the spoon on her plate.

Very few people’s opinions mattered to Reacher, he barely knew Y/N but it made him smile when she said his name and that she liked his name. It gave him an unusual feeling. Couldn’t help but wonder what peach pie would taste like when it’s on her tongue.

“Just passing through.” He leaned back once he finished his slice of pie, admiring the woman in front of him. Her lipgloss still glistened. Her eyes sparkled. Her breasts barely contained in her bra.

“That’s unfortunate. I would’ve loved to see you again, Jack.” She smiled when she took notice of him admiring her. It was a different type of admiration. “Can I call you?”

“Don’t have a phone.”

“Can I send you a letter?”

“Don’t have an address.”

“Well, damn, how will I talk to you and get to know you when you leave? Will this be the last I see of Jack Reacher, the man who saved my life?”

“I’ll come back tonight.” Reacher chuckled, smirking at her.

Y/N chuckled and then leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table, making the softness in her breasts very obvious as they pressed up. “Is that so? Well, would you like me to tell you the dinner specials now or later?”

“What time to do you get off?”

“After dinner tonight. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“I should be asking you that.” Reacher mirrored her actions, leaning forward, his massive arms made of military grade steel rested on the table. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Well, I asked first.”

Reacher wasn’t one to pursue women. But Y/N? From the little time he got to interact with her, he might hang around this little country town a little while longer.

TAG LIST

@redpool @mykneeshurt

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rosecastiello · 1 year ago

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a first time for everything

▸pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader x john 'soap' mactavish ▸words: 3,841 ▸warnings: threesome, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, slight choking, oral sex (f receiving), spit as lube, anal play, anal sex, double penetration ▸summary: you, ghost, and soap have a small celebration that leads to confessions and so much more. ▸a/n: this has been on my mind for a while. i don't particularly like how this turned out, but hopefully someone out there does. sorry if either of our boys seem ooc. i tried my best.

👻[masterlist]👻

You sat quietly between the two large men that were practically sandwiching you. They did it on purpose. These two always knew what they were doing when it came to you.

It only took one slip-up to make your size kink known to them; since then, they have found ways to tease you here and there. You weren’t really shocked by Johnny; he was always the prankster. But Simon—he completely took you by surprise.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and he was already looking back. It frustrated you that you could never tell what was going on under that balaclava—was he smirking, pouting, biting his lip?

Biting his lip…

He nudged you with his large thigh, and you looked at him fully. Was he purposely manspreading even more just to get a rise out of you?

When you turned to Soap, he was beaming. You were wearing some of the bulkiest gear, yet he still found a way to trail his eyes up and down your body that made you feel naked.

“Pervert!” you said over the com, and he chuckled.

“Takes one to know one, lass. Don’t it, Lt?”

Simon looked at Soap, then at you. “No comment.”

That low rasp had you fidgeting in your seat. “I’m gonna stand,” you told them before pulling yourself up and looking out the helicopter’s open door. It made your head spin, but you needed the air.

“You okay?” Ghost asked. Both he and Soap knew about your fear of flying.

“Yup. Gotta be,” you responded over the comms so you wouldn’t have to turn your head to speak.

“Almost there. Hang in there for us, yeah?”

You nodded and hoped he saw it.

You couldn’t step off the helo fast enough. You closed your eyes, took a few deep breaths, and thanked whoever was listening for the feeling of the ground beneath your feet.

Both men joined you, once again taking their positions on either side of you.

“Here.” Soap offered you some of his water. You were about to point out that you had your own, but you didn’t want to turn him down.

“Thanks.”

He watched as you drank, noticing the drop that escaped your lips and dripped down your chin.

“Oops,” you said before gingerly wiping it away innocently. If you could read minds, you would know that innocence was the last thing on Johnny’s mind.

“Stop gawkin’ at her, mate,” Ghost scolded, punching Soap on the shoulder.

“I wasn’t gawkin’.” He rolled his eyes and took his canteen back.

“Don’t start, boys,” you said before leaving them behind.

“What say we celebrate tonight,” Soap suggested, and you immediately shook your head.

“No,” Ghost said with finality.

“What? Why?” Soap asked.

“We all know that your way of celebrating ends in you drinking too much and embarrassing yourself, then one of us has to take care of you the next morning,” you reminded him.

“If I promise not to drink…too much,” he added, “Can we please just have a little fun?”

You looked at Ghost, and he gave you one nod. “Fine,” you sighed.

“If you pass out, I’m leavin’ you where you lie. I’m tired of carryin’ you,” Ghost said.

“I really need to get out of this gear. It’s starting to get heavy,” you said, already working on the buckles of your tac vest.

“What a tease,” Soap mumbled.

“Whatever. I’ll see you guys later.” You waved and walked off, feeling their eyes on you with every step.

“Who’s gawkin’ now?” Soap asked Ghost with a chuckle.

You all met up in Soap’s room. You lounged on his bed, resting against the headboard while he sat down by your feet. Ghost sat on a chair that he moved closer to the bed.

Soap made you laugh non-stop, and you even heard Ghost chuckle once or twice. You looked over at him, and he seemed a little different. Maybe it was because he had removed the other mask he wore and changed into his balaclava. It was softer, and you could see more of his features.

“Are you listening to me?” Soap asked, grabbing your leg. “Or are you just looking at our dreamy Lieutenant?”

“Shut up,” both you and Ghost said.

“Hey, I got an idea. Simon…take off the mask,” Soap said, and you shook your head.

“Negative,” he said. You figured.

“Come on, mate. The lass wants to see ya.” Soap patted your bottom, and you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t pin this on me. I am fine with just seeing his eyes,” you said, looking back at Ghost.

“Boringggg,” Soap complained.

“Hey, eyes can tell you a lot about a person.”

“She’s right,” Simon agreed, and you smiled smugly at Soap.

“Besides, they might just be my favorite part of the body,” you added.

“Bullshit. Eyes? Really?” Soap scoffed.

“Yes! I can only imagine your favorite body part,” you snapped.

“Ass. Lt. likes boobs,” Soap tattled.

“What?” you giggled.

“Yeah. That time we went to that titty bar….”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Ghost amusedly. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he started.

“Most of them were afraid of him because of that thing.” Soap pointed at Ghost’s mask.

“Afraid?” You looked at him.

“You ain’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked playfully.

“Never, sir.” You continued looking at him, tilting your head. “How do you kiss while wearing the balaclava?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I just…pull it up,” he told you, “…Not that I’ve been kissing much lately. Just…” His words trailed off.

“Oooo…someone wants to kiss Simon,” Soap teased.

You only shrugged, and Ghost looked at you. “I’m sure he has some kissable lips under there.”

“Show her, Simon. Go on,” Soap urged.

“Leave it—” you started, then froze when you realized Ghost was reaching up. “You don’t have to, Simon….”

But he didn’t stop, and the balaclava began to reveal his neck… chin…and lips.

“Close your mouth before a fly gets in there, doll,” Soap teased.

“What?” You were still staring at Ghost.

“I think you broke her, Simon,” Soap snickered.

“Nah, she can take a lot more than that,” he said.

“Fuck,” you said quietly. “I mean…um…” You needed to look away, but you couldn’t.

You could finally pull your eyes away from Simon, only to turn to Johnny, meeting his eye. His gorgeous eyes.

“You both…are troublemakers.” It was all you could think of saying.

“What? I didn’t do anything…this time,” Johnny said. “Blame Simon every once in a while.”

You looked at one of them and then at the other. “Would you both call yourselves good kissers?” you asked.

“I sure hope I am,” Soap said.

Ghost only shrugged, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Let her tell you if you are,” Soap suggested. “Kiss her, Lt.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, MacTavish,” you scoffed.

“She has to come over here for me to do that,” Ghost said, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, um…you serious?” you asked.

“Come over here, and I’ll show you if I am or not.” There was a sort of amused tone in his voice.

You stood and cleared your throat before making your way to the chair he was sitting in.

“Holy shit,” Soap said excitedly.

You stood between Ghost’s legs and looked down at him. This would probably be the only time looking down at him would be possible. You leaned in, hesitated as your noses touched, and kissed him. Immediately, it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs. It was a gentle and cautious kiss.

He knew what he was doing.

When you pulled away, your eyes stayed on him, and he licked his lips.

“Well, is he a good kisser?” Soap asked, pulling you from your daze.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered.

“What about me?” he asked.

“How would I know?” you teased.

Ghost was still looking at you, your kiss lingering on his lips.

“You could kiss me too, you know,” Soap said.

“Are you two always like this?” you wondered.

“Don’t change the subject. I want a kiss, too,” Soap whined.

“You’re such a brat,” you joked.

“He is,” Ghost added. “Go on. Give him his kiss,” he said. You looked at him, and he nodded before adding, “That’s an order, love.”

Your knees almost gave out at that, but you stood steadily and then walked over to Soap, who had sat up excitedly. He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, although you knew he was nowhere near innocent.

“Get over here, lass.” He yanked you closer, and you giggled before his lips touched yours. “Damn,” he whispered against your lips before deepening the kiss.

“Easy now, Johnny. Don’t suck her face off,” Ghost joked.

Soap pulled away. “If I do, we’ll just get her a cool-lookin’ mask like yours.”

“I…can’t believe I just did that,” you said, bringing a hand to your mouth.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“Kissed both of you…does that make things weird?” you pondered.

“Why would it?” Soap asked. “Hell, I say it’s about fuckin’ time.”

“Really?” You sat on the bed again, both men still looking at you.

“We’re all adults here, and I can admit that I’ve imagined doing more than just kissin’ you,” Soap confessed.

You looked at Ghost, who scratched at his chin. You never expect many words from him. “I know it’s wrong,” Simon started, “But doin’ what’s right ain’t always the solution.”

“Wait…why is it wrong?” Soap asked.

“He’s our superior, Johnny,” you told him before looking at Ghost again. “But all choices have consequences.”

He looked at you, eyes full of awe and something else. “Someone’s been listenin’.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I guess the question is, are we all willin’ to face those consequences if they happen to arise.”

“You know I am,” Soap answered without hesitation.

You shrugged. “Yeah, I mean….”

“You gotta be sure, love,” Ghost prompted.

“It’s truly not the consequences from higher-ups I’m worried about,” you told them. “I’m more concerned about how you two will see me when and if this does happen. I like our friendship and how close we all are. I don’t want it to get all fucked up just because we’re horny.”

“You don’t think it’ll bring us…closer?” Soap asked, and both you and Ghost threw him a look. “What?”

“Okay, well, I’m just gonna flat out ask you both: have you always wanted to fuck me?” You waited for an answer.

“Johnny talked about wantin’ to get in your pants about a week after getting to know you,” Ghost said.

“Simon! That was supposed to stay between us,” he scolded. You giggled, then turned to Ghost.

“And you?”

“Lass, you should see how he looks at you when you’re not looking,” Soap blurted. “The man wants to eat you alive…in a good way.”

“I could’ve told her that myself,” Ghost growled.

“You started it,” Soap retorted.

“Okay, okay, boys. Down.” Surprisingly, they both stopped and looked at you. “Have either ever done something like this before?”

“Sex?” Soap asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what I mean. You boys don’t mind…sharing?”

“I don’t if you don’t mind being shared,” Ghost said quietly.

“Simon.” You looked at him, shocked.

“The man is quiet, but I swear he’s filthier than me,” Soap said. “Now, I’m gonna ask you, lass, do you want both of us?”

“Honestly? I’ve dreamt about it,” you confessed.

“Ha! You hear that, Lt.? She’s been havin’ dreams about us,” Soap said proudly.

Both men watched as you poured yourself a shot and downed it quickly.

“So…we doing this?” you asked.

“Up to you,” Ghost said. “One request, though.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“I want you to take your clothes off. Nice and slow,” he said, pulling the balaclava back down over his lips. You missed them already.

“Is that an order, sir?” you asked innocently.

“It is.”

Soap could hardly contain his excitement while Ghost, well, it was hard to tell. You wish you could because it would be such a turn-on to know that he was just as turned on by you.

You were sure to look him in the eye as you began undressing. Soap stood and walked over to where Ghost was sitting.

“What a fuckin’ treat,” Soap murmured but was quickly hushed by Ghost.

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny. Just use your eyes.” Ghost leaned forward again, and you swear his eyes could burn a hole in you. It made you feel sexy.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Soap whispered as you let your jeans fall to your ankles.

Ghost stood suddenly, and you looked up at him as he walked over to you. You loved the way he towered over you.

“Lie down for us, love,” he said, and you slowly backed up towards the bed as he followed.

When you were finally lying down, both men climbed onto the bed—Ghost on the left, Soap on the right.

“Wait…” you gasped, and both men froze in place. “I don’t have to call you Ghost and Soap, do I?”

“Call me Simon, love. Or sir, if you prefer.”

“And I’m just John or Johnny. Scream it if you need to, lass.”

“Okay,” you breathed. Then John kissed you as Simon surveyed your body with his big hands. You could feel him pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders. You were going to sit up so he could unclasp it, but at the speed of light, he had yanked it off you like it was made of paper. You gasped into John’s mouth but didn’t stop kissing him.

Simon’s hands continued moving down your body, stopping at your panties. This time, he waited for you to lift your hips so he could pull them off slowly.

John finally pulled himself away from your lips and noticed that you were completely naked, thanks to Simon.

“Good lord in heaven. You can’t be real,” he said, his Scottish brogue like music to your ears.

Simon was silent, staring down at you, and you realized he had pushed his balaclava up over his nose again. He wanted to kiss you again. He leaned in close, his nose touching yours as you looked into each other’s eyes.

When he finally kissed you, you moaned into it, and he did too. The sound of his moan sent pleasant chills through your body. His tongue dipped into your mouth just as John’s tongue lathed at your nipple. You arched off the bed and whimpered against Simon’s lips. These men were already sending you into a feeling of overstimulation, and you loved every moment.

One of your hands found the back of Simon’s neck, and the other found John’s mohawk. You held both men in place—one against your lips and one against your breasts.

John pulled away eventually, pulling your face away from Simon’s kiss so he could claim your lips. The men traded places, and now Simon’s lips were wrapped around your nipple.

Somehow, both men had the same idea—moving their hands between your legs, fighting for a place to put their fingers. You couldn’t tell whose fingers were whose; you just knew that someone was rubbing your clit and someone’s fingers were prodding at your entrance.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, and someone’s fingers were stretching you on cue. When John finally pulled away from your lips, you could look down and find both men had their fingers inside you. You cried out and looked at both men as they fucked you with their fingers.

“You want more than our fingers, don’t you?” John asked, and you nodded. “Let us taste you first, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whined. You thought that meant John would be going first, but Simon kissed his way down your body and found his way between your legs. As Simon slowly dragged his tongue against your clit, John's fingers were still inside you.

“Fuck…you guys…” you moaned.

“I think Lt. wants you to cum,” Soap said before sucking on your nipple. “Think you can do that for him?”

“Yeah,” you cried. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“D-Don’t stop! Ah, fuck. Just like that!”

John captured your lips again, and you had no choice but to cry out into the kiss. For a man who kept his lips covered most of the time, he sure had no trouble using them.

“Hey, Lt, she’s gettin’ there. I can feel it.”

They both worked you into one of the best orgasms you had ever had. Your body trembled and jerked as Simon drank you down, and John kept his fingers slipping in and out of you.

“All right, Simon, my turn for a taste,” John said, and Simon finally pulled away.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Tell me, love, anyone ever fuck your ass?”

“No,” you whined.

“Well, I’m about to,” he said, lying down and helping you straddle him with your back facing him. He pushed you forward so that you were bent over on him. You could hear him wetting his fingers and then spitting on them before slipping them up and down your ass, spreading the cheeks for better access.

He slid one finger into you slowly, easing his way in. The tight muscle pulsed around his finger, wanting to push against it.

“Relax,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. “There you are.”

He kept a careful and slow pace for now, only adding a finger when he was sure you were ready for another. You nearly begged him to put them back when he pulled them out.

“You stay relaxed for me, all right, love?” he cooed in a voice you had never heard him use before. Then you felt something prodding at your ass, and it was certainly more than a finger this time. He had slicked himself up with spit and his precum.

“Mmm, Simon…” you whimpered, looking back at him. The tip of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and you gasped.

“The hardest part is done, love,” he reassured you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “You’re so good. Doin’ so well.”

John cupped your face and used his thumbs to caress your cheeks. “So good for us,” he seconded.

Before you knew it, Simon was buried to the hilt in your ass. The burn from the stretch gave way to a pleasant sting as he moved slowly in and out of you. Then he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lie against him, your back to his chest.

His breath caressed the shell of your ear as he tried his best not to fuck up into your ass the way he truly wanted to.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Such a tight little thing….”

John bent between yours and Simon’s legs to taste you as Simon fucked your ass.

“Ohhhh,” you moaned.

“We’ve got you,” Simon said, sliding a hand up your neck. “You can take it, can’t you? We know you can. Our good girl.” He squeezed your neck lightly, and your eyes rolled back.

“Harder,” you said.

“What was that, love?”

“Harder. Fuck my ass harder, sir.”

“That’s better.” He held you tighter and began pumping up into you faster. John had a hard time keeping his mouth on you, but he found a way. You could hear him slurping against you even as Simon’s hips slapped against your ass.

When you came, both men praised you.

“That’s it. Let go.”

“That a girl. Look at you.”

“So beautiful when you cum.”

You had relaxed against Simon. They gave you a slight reprieve before you heard him say, “We’re not done quite yet.” He grabbed your legs from behind your knee and spread you wide open. When you were able to focus, you saw that John was there. You smiled.

“Oh, Simon, our girl’s enjoyin’ this,” John said proudly before looking down at your pussy. “Let’s see if it feels as good as it tastes, hm?” You nodded weakly, and he chuckled.

“Our girl’s a greedy little thing, ain’t she, John?” Simon said beneath you.

“She is.” John was touching himself now, getting himself ready for you.

“But she’s so good for us, so we’ll give her whatever she wants.” Simon was pumping into you slowly, trying to keep you as still as possible as John lined himself up. He began pushing into you, and you swear you went cross-eyed.

“Stay with us,” John teased, tapping your cheek lightly.

You were beyond full, and still, you wanted more. You needed them to move. You squirmed impatiently between them.

“Let’s not keep the lady waiting,” Simon said in a strained voice.

Both men moved in unison, keeping a pace that kept you on the edge. Their grunts and moans mixed with yours, and you thought you had never heard such a wonderful sound.

You would have never guessed that Simon was so vocal, but he was louder than you and John.

“You feel so good, Simon,” you moaned, and he grabbed your face gently.

“Tell John he feels good, too.”

“You feel so fucking good, John.” With that, he began fucking you harder.

“That’s our girl.” Simon matched John’s pace, and soon you were a mumbling mess sandwiched between these two glorious men.

Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen to you. You would almost say it wasn’t real if it wasn’t for the fact that you were being stretched and pulled in ways you had never been before.

Both men were getting close, their thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. John was the first to let go, nearly collapsing on top of you as his thrusts stuttered to a stop as he filled you. He pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you, down your ass, and onto Simon’s dick which was still pumping into you.

Simon was not far behind, but before he came, he held you close and turned you onto your side. He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it as he fucked you while spooning you. After a few more thrusts in that position, he cried out in your ear as he filled you. He pressed himself against you as if he couldn’t get close enough.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed. “You all right, love?”

“Mm hm,” you answered weakly.

John lay beside you, and you were again sandwiched between the two men.

“I don’t think I can move,” you said.

“There’s no need,” Simon said. “We’ll take care of you.”

“Rest. You deserve it,” John said, cupping your face. “We’ll be here when you wake up, won’t we, Lt.?”

“O’ course we will.” He kept his arm wrapped around you.

You knew they were both men of their word, so you let your eyes close, knowing that you were enveloped by their warmth and would wake up with the same feeling.

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