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crocadilioso · 10 months

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A week of disappointed dads and depravity days 1-4/7.

Day 1:

Chapter 1:

Another night and another empty booth seat. Ashe had gone on a date with a man who he’d met on Grindr. The man was tall, muscly, handsome and honestly perfect. Ashe was a 5’1 guy who’d been vet been very much of man. For years he’d known that he was never going to be an alpha guy and accepted that. His tiny frame fit his body type perfectly. His completely flat chest complimented his small waist and wide hips nicely but fit his exceptionally large ass even better. His body type was a huge reason for him never trying to be manly but his tiny 2” dick definitely didn’t help either. Growing up with very minimal contact to his dad and a single mother, who was “open with her relationships”, did bother to help his case either. Now at 18 he’s sitting in a fancy restaurant with a completely smooth body except for his head and wearing clothes that his sugardaddy had bought him along with the makeup and hair styling that his sugardaddy had also paid for. The dress was very tight and left nothing to the imagination. The tight black fabric hugged ashe’s body in every spot. The bottom of the free only rode down to ashe’s upper thigh and didn’t even cover his whole ass. The dress also has a keyhole in the front that was supposed to show off ashe’s cleavage but actually showed off how flat his chest is. The dress covers his arms but the sleeves are only attached by a tiny string on the armpits of the dress so his shoulders and subsequent tan lines show clearly from under the dress. The, shiny black leather, platform stiletto pump high heels that he’d been bought pushed him from 5’1 to a huge 5’5 and made his ass pop out of his dress even more. The man who Ashe had came here to met was called Adam and basically everything Ashe wanted from a man. They’d been seating for a few days and after about 100 nudes Adam had asked Ashe to come to this fancy and expensive restaurant but on we Ashe had gotten here he checked Adam’s Grindr profile only to find it had been deleted. So now Ashe is sitting alone in a whole booth at the restaurant with tears starting to swell in his eyes.

Chapter 2:

As Ashe sits in sadness, a group of middle aged men sit down in the booth in front of him. The men are all atleast 45, none of them slim and all wearing suits with their top buttons undone and their ties loosened. Half of the men sat with their backs to Ashe while the other 3 men look in ashes direction. All 3 of the men smile at and look over Ashe with obvious intentions in their eyes but only one of them keeps his gaze on Ashe. Ashe and the man make eye contact and this makes Ashe blush.

“I’ll be back in a minute lads, off to the toilet.”

Says a British accent and the man stands up while looking at Ashe then walks off through the restaurant towards the bathroom.

“God, am I really going to do this. He’s no Adam but I guess… oh I don’t know.”

Ashe thinks over what he’s going to do internally and then gets up too, with his little purse over his shoulder. His high heels click and clack on the floor as he struts over to that bathroom to meet the man too. Ashe makes it to the room with the 2 bathroom doors on them. A men’s symbol on one and a women’s symbol on the other. Usually Ashe goes into the women’s just to avoid confrontation but this time thinks that he would have to go into the men’s. Ashe walks over to the men’s room door but gets stopped by a hand grabbing his shoulder.

“I knew you’d come. Girls like you always do.”

The large hand squeezes ashe’s shoulder and pulls on it, causing Ashe to spin around and face the man. The man is taller than Ashe by atleast 6 inches even with the high heels on and has a smug look on his face.

“Oh yeah? What type of girl do you think I am?”

After saying this Ashe also has a smug look on his face and the two hold eye contact as the man reaches his hand down ashes back. His fingers slide down the soft fabric of Ashe’s dress and trace his spine before reaching the bottom of Ashe’s ass that’s poking out from the bottom of his dress.

“The type of girl that’ll do what I want.”

Ashe opens his mouth to respond but before he can something is stuffed into his mouth. The man’s other hand had reached into his pocket and pulled out 2 paper bills. $200 filed Ashe’s mount and stopped whatever he was about to say from coming out.

“So… how about you show me if I’m right.”

Ashe just nods with big eyes and the man grins. They walk through the restaurant and the man leads Ashe to the parking lot.

Chapter 3:

They get to an expensive Audi and the man opens the passenger door to let Ashe sit down. As he walks around the front of the car to get to the drivers side Ashe analyses the man. He’s balding with mostly brown hair even though there’s some white in there. He’s a little bit more than chubby and his tucked in dress shirt doesn’t hide it. His blue suit pants are held up by a brown leather belt and the cuffs of them sit above his brown leather shoes. He has a good watch in his right wrist and a wedding ring on his left hand that hidden by rings on his pinky and ring finger but still noticeable. The man sits in the drivers side of the car and leans over to Ashe. His left hand immediately grasps at ashes thighs and grips them while his stubbly face gets close to ashe’s. The man’s lips press against ashe’s neck and kiss it hard while his grip gets tighter on Ashe’s thighs and then he pulls away. They make eye contact while a handful of inches from nose to nose and ashes realises something. The man looks almost identical to his dad. Though he’d only seen him a handful of times in his life, Ashe recognised that this man is almost a carbon copy of his father and stopped for a second, stunned. Then the man lifts both hands up and grabs the back of ashes head.

“I’m John but you’ll call me daddy.”

The man’s lips lick tightly onto Ashe’s lips and his rough chin irritates Ashe’s skin but he goes along with it anyway. They kiss hard and rough while John’s hand move erratically all over Ashe’s body and grab any bit of skin they can get a hold of. After a while of kissing and groping John pulls away.

“You’re a nasty bitch. I can already tell.”

John leans back in his seat and revs up the car and then speeds off out of the lot. Ashe blushes and smiles.

“Haha. You have no idea babe.”

John looks over from the corner of his eye with a smile and then uses one of his hands to rub and grab his crotch.

“I told you it’s daddy. Not babe. I might need to punish you for not following orders.”

His rubbing continues until ashe leans over and puts both of his hands onto John’s crotch instead. Ashe can feel the rock hard boner in John’s pants and outlines it with one of his index fingers while teasing the zipper with his other index finger.

“How would you punish me daddy? Spank me? Put me in time out? Clean my mouth out?”

John’s grin gets wider.

“Just you wait. You’ll find out.”

Ashe pinches the zipper invetween his index finger and thumb then pulls it down. John’s dick twitches a few times and the wriggles its way out of the zipper and stands straight up in his lap. His dick isn’t massive, in fact it’s a little bit less than average, but Ashe had come this far so there was no turning back. John moans and then his hand rests on the back of Ashe’s head and pushes it down onto his dick. The dick all fits easily into Ashe’s mouth and his pubes tickle the whole bottom half of Ashe’s face but he puts on a show even though it’s all fake. As Ashe sucks the man’s dick and bobs his head up and down, he moans and occasionally gags to boost the man’s ego even more. After couple minutes of Ashe sucking the man’s dick the car stops. Ashe sits up and looks out the window. The car is sitting in the driveway of a suburban home.

“My wife isn’t home so we have the whole house to ourselves. How does that sound baby?”

The man looks at Ashe with a seductive stare. Ashe knew that this was really the point of no return. John hadn’t found out Ashe’s little secret between his legs and once they got into the house there were only two things that could happen. The man either finds out and uses Ashe as just a fetish object or he finds out and kicks him out immediately, hopefully without a black eye. Ashe said a silent pray for the first option and looked at the man.

“Sounds like we’re going to have a lot of fun daddy.”

Ashe winks and the after one last, firm, grab of Ashe’s thigh the man steps out of the car and walks over to the front door of the house as Ashe follows a few feet behind him.

Chapter 4:

The door swings open and the man walks in then turns on the main light. The house is clean and modern. It’s mostly white and has a lot of glass accents. John takes off his shoes and looks at Ashe who’s still in the doorway.

“Come in. I won’t bite… unless you want me to.”

He winks and Ashe steps into the house. Ashe sees the photos on the walls. There’s John and who Ashe presumed to be his wife nestled between big groups of people in all the photos. Some photos seem to show family Christmas parties and others show what seem to be office parties. Ashe keeps the high heels on and follows John when he walks through the hall and into a minimalistic kitchen.

“Now that I’m not driving I can let loose.”

He pulls a bottle of vodka out of a cupboard and then pulls two glasses out of another cupboard. He pours a little bit into one of the glasses and fills the other one most of the way up. John then walks over to the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. He fills both glasses up the rest of the way with the rest of the juice and hands one of the glasses to Ashe. He’d not paid attention to which one he’d been handed but he immediately knew when he took a sip. The vodka overpowered everything else and made Ashe recoil as it felt like it filled his whole body. John put down his glass without even taking a sip and poured himself a tumbler of expensive whisky. John sipped his whisky as he stared at Ashe standing in the middle of the room.

“I didn’t make it for you to look at. Drink it.”

Ashe hesitated for a second, thinking of the taste, but then lifts the glass to his mouth and drinks it. Half the glass is gone and he puts the glass down on a countertop with a gag. John laughs and then walks up to Ashe and stands right infront of him. John’s belly pokes ashe’s chest and then he leans in and kisses him again. John’s hands get restless again and grab all over Ashe again but this time also slap his ass each time the run over it. Ashe slides his hands over John’s back and then sticks his fingers inbetween the buttons in the man’s shirt. The kiss for a couple seconds and then the John pulls away and grabs ashes hand. He yanks hard, pulling Ashe roughly, through the house and up the stairs. They get to the master bedroom and John pushes Ashe onto the bed. Ashe lies in his back, helpless to John and John yanks his shirt off over his head and pull his pants down and off. Ashe watches while biting his lip, trying not to remember how much the man looks like his dad. Once he’s naked, John falls forward onto the bed and puts one arm on each side of Ashe.

“Your turn. Take it off baby.”

He kisses ashes neck and then stands up straight again. Ashe slowly pulls his arms out of their holds in the dress, trying to buy time but eventually John gets bored and slightly mad.

“Ok, I guess I’ll do it myself then.”

His hands shoot to Ashe and grab the bottom of his dress. He pull up and the bottom of the dress flips up to ashes chest, exposing ashes whole body. Ashe see his face light up when he sees the sheer red panties Ashe has on. Ashe also sees John’s eyebrows frown and his mouth shit tightly when he notices the tiny nub hidden in the fabric.

Chapter 5

There’s a tense silence as John processes what he’s seeing and it’s broken by the rustling of sheets when Ashe slowly crawls backwards on the bed.

“When we’re you going to tell me about that?”

John still looks angry as he says this and Ashe is too frightened to say anything so just shrugs with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

“Daddy really will have to punish you now.”

He grabs ashes legs dnd pulls him toward the edge of the bed. Ashe slides over the bedsheets, helpless to John, and ends up with his ass pressed against John’s thighs. Ashe expects a punch or slap but instead feels fingers in his crotch and then they tighten. John grabs ashes tiny excuse for a dick and minuscule balls in one hand and then rubs them with his thumb. He put his other hand on ashes face. His palm rests on ashes cheek as his thumb snakes into his mouth and plays with his tongue.

“I’ve never had something like you before. Never ruined a faggot.”

His index finger slides into ashes mouth and then his middle until John had fit as much of his hand as he can into ashes mouth. His hand is wet with saliva as he pulls it out.

“You’re not going to hurt me are you? Please.”

Ashe looks at the man with fear and then John’s hand lifts up slightly before coming down fast. The wet hand comes down and makes a thunderous clap as it slaps against ashes pathetic crotch.

“It’s please daddy. I won’t tell you again.”

John says loudly and as Ashe curls up a bit from the slap, John grabs him and many vets him onto his hands and knees. Ashe’s ass is exposed to John and the there’s a hard pull on his body. John had grabbed a handful of the panties and pulled it as hard as he could, completely ripping them off of ashes body. The force makes Ashe fall onto his belly and John takes the opportunity to leap onto Ashe. Johns bid weight pins Ashe down to the bed and he can feel johns hard dick poking all over his asscheeks and around them. John lifts his waist up and then without warning he thrusts down and shoved his dick into Ashe. The dry dick burns as it attacks ashes asshole and he lets out a scream. John doesn’t care and starts to fuck him. Up and down slowly and then he speeds up. His pubes feel like wire wool scratching ashes asscheeks and his belly makes a slap each time it hits ashes back. Ashe can hear the man sniffing his panties as he moans and grunts into ashes ear.

“Aaahhh. Fuck! Fuck please! It - gugghahh!”

Ashes pleads are drowned out when his own panties fill his mount and act as a gag. John holds the panties in ashes mouths and the holds his jaw shut to stop it coming out.

“Shut up slut. You wanted this when you wore that dress. Faggot.”

The last word is excluded and said onto as an insult. John keeps ashes mount shut as he keeps ducking ashe. Ashe can’t see John at this point so looks around the room. He sees the normal looking bedside stands and the photos of his wife around the room.

“Fuck. You’re a tight bitch. Tighter than that bitch. “

Ashe feels johns thrusts get harder and deeper, causing more weight to be slammed down onto ashes back. Eventually John stops for a second and grabs ashes hips. He pull up and flips ashes onto his back. They face each other and Ashe sees johns shit-eating grin surrounded by his sweat.

“Fuck. How’s it so small? You’re not a man, slut. Just my bitch.”

John goes back to rubbing ashes penis. He runs the tip in a circular motion with his thumb. John uses his other hand to pull the panties out of ashes mouth and he holds them up to his face then takes a deep breath in his nose again. He then keeps his eyes closed and throws the ripped panties behind his back.

“Aargh. Yes daddy please. I love it daddy. Please daddy.”

Johns face turns into a snarl when he hears Ashe moan and beg. He leans in and wraps both his hands around ashes neck. His belly crushes ashes dick with each thrust and he puts his mouth against ashes ear.

“I’m your daddy. You’ll love me like your daddy.”

He whispers angrily and keeps fucking as Ashe keeps moaning. A few more thrusts and John is ready to blow. He pulls out and jumps onto the bed. His knees sit on either side of ashes shoulders and he looks down on ashe. He strokes his dick with one hand as he grabs ashes hair with the other and pulls his head up.

“Aaaarrrrrrr. Fuck!”

A huge burns of hot cum shoots point blank onto ashes face. It covers his face and makeup and the splash back covers his chest.

“That’s some real man cum. Nothing like that stupid thing between your legs. Learn your place slut!”

John is shouting as loud as he can and then he shoved his dick back into ashes mouth and roughly drags his head back and fourth on his dick by pulling ashes hair hard and panfully. He’s just shouting as loud as he can and it seems like he’s doing this just to hurt ashes head. He eventually stops and rolls over on the bed beside ashes.

“Oh god, I needed that. Never thought I’d fuck a faggot like you.”

Ashe rolls over onto his side to lie face to face with the man.

“Thank you daddy. I’m glad you did.”

Ashes licks his lips and everywhere else he can to lap up the cum. There’s a weird pause and then John gets up and walks into the en-suite of the room. Ashe can hear him having a shower and cleaning off the sweat from fucking. Ashe sits up and opens a few drawers. He finds the wife’s “sexy” drawer. Ashe pulls out a set of matching black, see-through, lingerie. He slides in on and, as expected, the bra hangs while the thong fills out tightly. He then pulls out a sheer nightgown with fur around the edges. He put that on too and then walks over to the shower to join John. When he opens the door the room is steamy and hot. Ashe can see the silhouette of John stop in its tracks.

“Get out of here.”

Ashe stops too and cocks his head to the side.

“What’s that daddy? Don’t you want to shower with your baby?”

Ashe tries to sound as seductive as possible.

“I said get the fuck out of here before I fucking kill you! Get the fuck out of my house, faggot!”

John screams as loud as he can and then he hits his hand against the glass door of the shower.

“Oh. Uh- ok.”

Ashe leaves the bathroom and closes the door. He put on his high heels and walks out of the bedroom. He goes down the hallway, then down the stairs and then to the front door, scared. That John will come raging out of the bedroom at any time. The whole time he walked through the house he could hear John talking but couldn’t make out what he was saying. As Ashe opens the door the cold wind hits him like a truck and reminds that he’s only wearing a multimeter thin piece of fabric. He grabs a jacket off of the rack, a thick brown work jacket that’s huge on Ashe. The jacket goes down to his mid thighs, ironically more covering than his dress earlier and leaves. He grabs his purse off of the coatrack too and then closes the door as he leaves. He walks away for a couple minutes until he’s safely away and calls an Uber.

Day 2:

Chapter 1:

8 am. The alarm blares and wakes Ashe up with a startle. He’s at home and his own bed now. He sits upright and thinks about the night before. He thinks about how rough and angry the man was and then he thinks about how he only got home at 3:30 am, leaving him exhausted now. With a groan and a pout he swings his legs off of his bed and they hang above the floor. Ashe’s room has white walls covered in tapestries, fake vines and LEDs. His bed is in the middle of the room and it’s covered in furry blankets, cute plushies and random clothes. Ashe puts on his big circle framed glasses and stands up. He’s wearing a huge T-shirt with hello kitty posing on the front. The shirt goes down to just above his knees and he has a pair of pants high high socks on but they’ve rolled down and clumped up at his ankles. His hair’s messy and his makeup’s off. He looks in his full body mirror on the wall and examines himself. He lifts his arms up and the T-shirt exposes everything up to his waist, showing a white Calvin klein thong that hugs his hips tightly. He examines his smooth legs and how the light from inbetween the blinds shine off of his thigh thighs. He puts his arms down and then grabs the back of the T-shirt and pull it back. The T-shirt shrink wraps around his body and he looks at his wide hips on his thin waist. Pleased with what he sees, Ashe walks away from the mirror and to his big wardrobe. The door slides open and he looks at the huge selection of different fabrics and colours. He thinks for a second and then pulls out a few things. A black sports bra, a pair of black marbled gym leggings, a cap and a pair of panda Nike dunks. He slides the huge shirt off and pull on the bra. It hugs him tightly and covers so much that you can’t even tell he doesn’t have tits but still shows everything else from the waist up. He then pull the thong and socks off to pull the leggings on. The leggings are thick and skin tight on him. They leave nothing to the imagination, making his ass and legs look better than ever. A thick pair of Nike socks go over the bottom of the leggings and then the sneakers come on and Ashe is ready. He puts his hair in a ponytail and then puts the cap on with the hair out the back. A quick swoop with an eyeliner pen and he leaves his room. Most girls would wear a pump cover to stop creeps from looking at them but that obviously isn’t a problem for Ashe. He leaves his house and grabs gets into his car. Nothing eventful happens during his drive, he just listens to music and thinks about what excursuses he’d do today. Once he’s in the gym parking lot, he gets out, grabs his gym bag from the boot of the car and strolls into the gym. The gym bag goes into a locker and then Ashe is ready to start.

Chapter 2:

Obviously people try not to stare at girls when they workout but it’s hard to not glance, especially when Ashe squats and legs out a little moan with each rep. He can tell that people are looking but that doesn’t stop him. He knows that they’re looking at his ass and his legs. When he first started working out he’d get scared that people would see his little dick but quickly realised that there were two reasons no one would see it. For one, they’re all too busy drooling over his ass to look anywhere and else and secondly, his duck is too small to even cast a shadow on his leggings. After the squats came the lunges and then the treadmill and then the leg press, everything to keep his ass as big as possible. Working out like this built up quite a sweat and he’s still sweaty from the night before so he grabbed the towel from his gym locker, stripped naked and walked into the shower. He could pass as a woman any day to the week but being naked was completely different and he didn’t want to be banned from his favourite gym for being the only man in the women’s shower so decided it’s better to just go in the men’s and keep to himself. There’s the obvious mix of old men coming from the sauna, buff guys coming from the gym floor and scrawny guys too scared to use the machines yet. Ashe took a corner to himself to try and stay out of view but that was obviously useless. Ashe showered and tried to stay quiet but that stopped when a hand slapped his ass. He spun round with one arm covering his chest and the other hand covering his crotch. An old man stood infront of Ashe, smiling.

“You know this is the men’s, sweetheart?”

Ashe nods and the man look puzzled but notices that Ashe isn’t making any effort to leave. He’s naked and not trying to cover anything. His dick hangs in the jungle of white pubes between his legs and glistens because of the water on it.

“Well, if you’re not planning on leaving… how about you show me what you’re hiding then?”

He wraps his hand around ashes wrist and pulls it up, revealing his little dick. The man’s eyebrows raise but he doesn’t say anything. By this point, people try to sneakily look over and they see that the lost girl in the men’s shower actually has a dick. The old man puts his hand on ashes shoulder and grips it tightly.

“You know, you look just like my wife did… well, I’m the 60’s”

He puts pressure on ashe’s shoulder and this brings Ashe down to his knees. By this point, all the people trying to sneakily look are just watching as this old man seduces this young “woman”.

“I bet you have some new tricks though, right?”

His dick twitches and gets hard for the first time in probably 10 years. He grabs his dick and holds it up to ashes mouth. Ashe’s thighs create a pool of water inbetween his legs that completely cover his sad excuse for manhood and make it invisible. Ashe takes the duck in his mouth and starts sucking it, bobbing back and forth on the shaft and feeling the worry pubes snake their way into his nostrils. The man puts his hands on the back of ashes head and moans as Ashe sucks him. This goes on for a minute or two until one of the buff men come and stand beside them.

“Hey old timer, is this one all yours?”

The man moans no and Ashe reaches his hand up and fumbles around the jock’s thighs until he grasps the big dick inbetween them and strokes it. Ashe pulls his head away and sticks his tongue out with his mouth wide open at the man.

“Give me your cum baby, I want it.”

He squeezes the old dick and the man lets out a breathy moan as a big load shoots and hits Ashe in the face. It gets half washes off by the shower and he catches his breath.

Chapter 3:

The old man is done with Ashe now and waffles off, back to the locker room. All of ashes attention goes to the jock now and he puts the big duck in his mouth. The man’s in his early twenties and very muscly. His dick is big, around 8 inches, and his pubes are trimmed neatly. He also puts his hand on the back of ashes head and moans as Ashe deepthroats the dick and licks the bottom of the shaft. This show makes every other man look over and most of them walk over. Either because of the surge of testosterone from their workout or maybe because of Ashe being hot, Ashe didn’t know, but no one went to the front desk and reported this. All the men either walked over to Ashe or watched to see if they should walk over. Six men all surround Ashe and he knew he’s in for a good time. He takes a duck in each hand and keeps sucking the jock but the other men get impatient and get down onto their knees behind Ashe. One of them grabs ashes hips and slaps his ass a few times before sticking his dick in. All the jen are moaning and laughing he two other men are jerking their dicks, waiting for their turns. The jock cums soon too. He pulls his dick out and shoots his load all over ashes face too. Another man takes his place and the men all have the same idea to flip Ashe on his back at the same time. They practically pick him up and then set him down on his back on the floor. He slips back and forth in a straight line on the wet floor with each thrust until finally the man in his ass also cums. He shoots his load deep into ashes ass and gets up. Before the cum even had time to leak out, another man takes his place and starts ramming his ass too. The room keep fucking him until there’s five more loads up his ass, three more down his throat and two more on his face. The last two men are clearly friends and spit roast Ashe on the floor. After they both cum, the get up and look at Ashe laying on the floor, drenched in cum and leaking cum out of his ass onto the floor. They both chuckle and then whisper something to each other. Ashe can’t hear why they’re saying but figures it out when he feels a new hot stream of water hit his body. Another new stream hits his face and he sees both the men kissing yellow piss into him. It’s gross and stinks so Ashe slides back on the floor but the men just trace their piss where Ashe is. They go until they’re down and then just leave Ashe to lay there on the floor. Ashe takes a few seconds to recuperate and then stands up. He cleans all the bodyfluids off of him with soap and shampoo then gets out of the shower. He dries himself and grabs his gym bag for the locker. He pulls a pair of black converse, fishnets, tight black shorts and a long nirvana T-shirt that barely covers the tiny shorts. He puts the new outfit on and dries his hair, ready for the rest of the day. He gets back into his car and puts on light makeup using the mirror. The car starts and jitters for a second which makes a load of cum leak out of ashes ass and leaves a wet patch on his shorts.

Chapter 4:

He drives to the store to pick up groceries because even though his sugardaddy pays for them, he won’t pick them up for him. The road is full of potholes and each bump makes a tiny spurt of cum shoot out of Ashe. He gets to the store and gets out of the car. It’s a warm day so most people are wearing shorts and short sleeve T-shirts. He puts in AirPods and listens to his playlist, consisting of doja cat, Nikki minaj, Megan thee stallion, saweetie and the typical girly songs you’d hear on the radio. His hair hangs down at his shoulders tucked behind his ears which half hides the earphones but not fully. He grabs a cart and walks around the store casually picking out food and drinks for at home. Nothing crazy happens for the first 10 minutes. There’s the occasional guy staring at him or licking his lips but nothing out of the ordinary. That changes when he hears a notification quieten his music. Just like every other gen Zer he checks it immediately. He swipes open his phone and sees a weird message.

“Meet me in the bathroom would like to share a photo”

Ashe frowned for a second as he read this, thinking that it’s a weird name and then he looked at the photo he got sent. It’s a video of Ashe getting fucked. The audio is deafeningly loud and he’s glad he had his earphones in because if he didn’t, the whole store would hear. It’s a video from Ashe’s reddit profile. He only uses it for the attention, which he gets A Lot of, but posts fairly regularly. The video shows his face scrunches up with his eyes crossed as a faceless body from just the waist down drills his ass. He only had to watch a couple seconds and then puts his phone away. He looks around to see who sent him the video but there’s no one in the aisle with him.

“Haha that’s funny. I’ve never been recognised for that before.”

He mumbles to himself and remembers that the person said to meet in the bathroom so abandons his cart in the produce aisle and walks to the toilets.he has the choice between the men’s, women’s, and the disabled toilet and stands, thinking and deciding which one to go into, until the foot of the disabled toilet creaks open and an eye looks at ashe through the crack.

“Ashefag, right? I saw you on Reddit.”

The door opens more and there’s a man standing in the room. He motions for Ashe to come in with his hand and Ashe obliges. The door closes behind Ashe and locks too. The man stands over Ashe. He’s not a gross basement dweller like you’d expect but instead he just looks like an average suburban dad. He has a wedding ring on one of his fingers and salt’n’pepper hair. A little bit of chub hangs over his chino shorts and out of his polo shirt.

“Haha. I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Ashe smiles flirtily at the man.

“I’m actually a fan.”

He’d not blushing but Ashe can tell that he’s a bit nervous.

“I’m glad. I’ve never met a fan before.”

A little giggle comes out Ashe says this.

“So, are we just going to stand here or did you want something else from me?”

Ashe winks and the man’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Uhh. Yeah. Let’s do something else. Haha.”

Ashe walks closer to him until they’re basically touching toes and puts his hand on the man’s neck. He pulls his head down and kisses his lips softly.

“What the ring for?”

Ashe already knows the answer but just wants to see the man squirm.

“Its… uh… it’s just a-“

The man can’t get his words out.

“I’m fucking with you. I don’t care. I just want you.”

Ashe had a smug face and pulls the man in again to kiss him. They kiss and the man caresses ashes waist and hips softly as they do.

“I want all of you.”

The man freezes for a second and Ashe reaches under his T-shirt and pulls the shorts off. They drop the the floor and the noise confirms that the shirts aren’t totally dry yet. The man watches them fall and bites his lip.

“Take me.”

The man’s eyes light up and his hands grasp all over ashes bottom half then rugs on the T-shirt. He tugs it down and looks down the collar to see ashes chest and then pulls the shirt up and pulls it off. Ashe stand wearing only fishnets and shoes as the man reaches down again. He puts one hand on ashes shoulder and puts the other hand on ashes waist. He swings around and uses his hands to bend Ashe over the sink. Ashe moans and blushes as the man pulls down his shorts.

“Wait. Do you want to be on my Reddit too?”

The man stops for a second with his dick in his hand.

“No. I wish I could but if my wife found out…”

There’s a pause and then ashes speaks again.

“I can just blur your face. I can tell you have a big… friend in your pants. And I’m sure you’d want to see this again, wouldn’t you.”

The man think and then agrees. Ashe hands him his phone and he props it up on the toilet. The angle shows everything and ashe smiles. The man presses record and then goes back to ashe. The man’s fingers snake I’m any of the holes they can find in the fishnets. He pulls his hands apart and the fishnets rip from the back of the waistband to ashes balls.He slaps his dick on both of ashes asscheeks and spits on it. He rubs the tip of his dick from the top of ashes buttcrack to his taint and then back again. He repeats this until he’s leaking precum onto ashe.

“Please daddy, fuck me.”

Ashe pleads and the man puts one of his hands on ashes shoulder to keep him still while using his other hand to guide his dick into Ashe’s ass. The tip pops in and the man lets out a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already. You’re horny, huh?”

The man doesn’t know that him being wet is actually another man’s cum but doesn’t want to ruin it for him.

“Yes daddy. I’ve been waiting for you.”

The man slides more of his ass in and ashe opens his eyes and mouth wide while raising his eyebrows and letting out a breathy sigh. He makes sure the camera can see this from the reflection of the mirror and the centrally the man gets balls deep in.

“Is that good, huh? You like this dick?”

Ashe bites his lip and then lets go of it again.

“Oh yeah. Yes daddy. It’s so big.”

The man pulls back and then thrusts forward again. He fucks Ashe while pulling his head back by his hair with one hand and spreading his other hand over ashes lower back. Ashe moans and contours his face as he does this for a minute or so and then the man pulls out. He slaps his wet dick on ashes ass again. Strings of cum and ass juice forms with each slap and it covers his whole ass. His asshole winks and dribbles cum as this happens. The man repositions the camerand then pulls Ashe over to the toilet. He sits down and sits Ashe on his dick in his lap. Ashe is facing the camera and as he bounces up and down on the dick, he can see his tiny little nub of a dick flop up and down. He moans again and does everything he can to look like he’s loving it. Once he’s bored of this position, the man pulls down the arm beside the toilet and stands Ashe on his feet. He keeps his dick in ashes butt and bends him over. Ashe’s hands go through the gap in the arm then his head. His whole upper body fits through the gap and the man pushes Ashe down so that he’s basically kissing his thighs. The man rams Ashe in this position and gets deeper and harder as he goes. He grunts and moans and then Ashe feels his ass get flooded with cum. The man stops, slaps ashes ass and then walks over to the phone. He’s out of breath as he pick up the phone and points it right at ashes used hole.

“Push daddy’s load out. Show me just how big it is, baby.”

Ashe lies resting on his belly, supported by the rail and pushes his ass out. The hole opens and shows the red insides then the creamy white cum fills the enterance to his ass and dribbles down his taint, then his balls and falls onto the floor under him. The cum just keeps flowing and the man is impressed by how much he came, not realising half of it is a mix of 5 other guys’s cum. Ashe stops pushing and the man sticks his thumb in ashes hole.

“You like daddy’s dick? Did I fuck you good, baby? Fuck you hard and deep?”

Ashe moans yes and the man pulls his thumb out. He rips ashes fishnets all the way down his inner thigh down to his knees and some on his calves so that everyone outside will see that he just got fucked and then he grabs Ashe’s balls in one hand. He rubs his wet thumb over the small, smooth sack and then records himself spanking Ashe a few times. He ends the recording and lays the phone on the floor then pulls his shorts up. He cleans his hands in the sink and then goes to leave the room as Ashe gets up to his feet.

“You’re so hot. Thank you for that. My wife doesn’t put out anymore.”

Ashe put his thumb up.

“Oh yeah, I’m taking these too.”

He has the shorts with a cum stain in his hands. He sniffs them and then stuffs them in his back pocket.

“I can smell your pheromones on it.”

He leaves and Ashe chuckles, knowing that he just got a whiff of cum.

Chapter 5:

Ashe recovers gets to his feet. He sees the state that his fishnets are in and groans while picking his T-shirt up off of the floor and pulling it on over his head. The shirt is still long enough to cover ashes crotch, but just barely. He picks up his phone and heads out of the bathroom, trying not to be seen. He hears old women tutting at him and a guy even whistles at him. He leaves the groceries and just speed-walks through the parking lot until he gets to his car. He nearly gets to his car but a metre away, he can’t hold his ass closed anymore and a load of cum shoots out. It hits his legs and then his shoes and seeps in through the top of his converse. He gets into the car and immediately pulls out of the lot. The drive home is just as bumpy and each bump shoots out more cum. When Ashe gets home, the seat is soaked and so are his asscheeks. He scurried into his house and goes straight to the toilet to fart out the rest of the cum. He spends the time on the toilet blurring the man’s face in the video and uploading it to Redgifs then posting it in as many subreddits as he can. He also posts the video to his twitter and puts its on his private Snapchat story but doesn’t blur the man’s face in them. The rest of the day is spent with a dildo up his butt while reading all the comments and messages he got from the video.

Day3:

Chapter 1:

90’F. The hottest day of the year. The sun’s blaring and there’s little to now wind. You can’t spend a a day like this inside so Ashe had decided to go for a walk. The clicking of his boots against the concrete is complemented by the jingling of the spurs on the back of them. He has cowboy boots on over his smooth legs and they glisten in the sun. He’d liked his whole body up before leaving and wanted to show it off so chose the skimpiest outfit he could get away with. His boots go up to his mid thigh and everything from there up to his hip bones are on show because he’s wearing what can only be described as a denim thong. The tiny piece of fabric barely wraps over his crotch and the straps sit above his hips. The back of the “shorts” are completely lost in his ass so that from the back it looks like he’s naked from the bottom down. His ass ripples like water with each step and his thighs jiggle too. His chest is covered by a white button up shirt but he’s cropped it so that the bottom is just below his nipples, showing everything from his pelvis to his chest, and only had the bottom button down so that it’s nearly falling off his shoulders and shows his whole chest. He has a cowboy hat on and a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth. Apart from the boots, his outfit weighs no more than 20 grams and advertises all of his best assets. His skin shines and shimmers as he walks through the small country town he’s in. People walk past and gasp or laugh as they see him but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention. A lot of real cowboys are walking through the town and Ashe admires them as they walk past. A few catcall him and whistle but one actually grabs his ass.

“Hey there lil lady. Nice day isn’t it.”

His accent is a thick country one and it sounds like his teeth don’t open when he talks.

“Yeah it is. I’m just on my way to the beach.”

The man sees that Ashe doesn’t have anything else with him except for his phone.

“Well you can’t go in the sand in those boots, can you?”

Ashe looks down at his boots and then reaches into the side of the tight thong. He pulls out a couple $10 bills and shows them to the man.

“There’s a beach store there isn’t there?”

He nods and Ashe puts the bills back inbetween his asscheeks.

“It’s a far walk isn’t it. Wouldn’t you prefer me drive you there?”

Ashe looks at him and lifts the brim of his hat up. He thinks for a second and then nods.

“Yeah sure. Couldn’t hurt.”

The man flips the brim of ashes hat back down and smiles.

“That’s my truck right there. Come hop in.”

He points to a blue truck with a flatbed on the back and rust around the wheels. They walk across the road and to the truck and hop in. The doors creak open noisily and close with an even louder slam.

“It’s just up the road, we’ll be there in no time.”

Ashe nods and the man puts the truck into first gear and they drive off.

Chapter 2:

“I’m Lou. What about you?”

He keeps looking at the road as he asks.

“Ashe.”

He scoffs in a joking way.

“You’re not from round here are you?”

Ashe giggles.

“No, born and raised in the city.”

Lou moves his hand from the gearstick to ashes lap and runs his hand over ashes leg.

“Well, round here you pay gas money.”

Ashe had only brought enough for the swimming suit he was going to get so didn’t want to give that money away.

“Oh really? Where I’m from we pay in a different way.”

Lou looks at Ashe out of the corner of his eye and smirks. His thumb rubs closer to ashes crotch.

“And how’s that, lil lady?”

Ashe smiles as the car slows down and comes to a stop on the side of the country road.

“Oh, I’m sure you can have a guess, cowboy.”

He looks at Ashe and smiles then opens the driver side door. He steps out and calls Ashe over to him.

“Well, my guess is that you didn’t get into a truck with a flatbed for no reason.”

They smile at each other and Ashe takes a proper look at Lou. He’s got big muscles but they’re from working, not the gym. He’s tall and handsome. His blue jeans sit over his boots and his work shirt had the top 2 buttons undone and shoes his hairy, muscles chest. He has stubble and a strong jaw line but his eyes are hidden by his sunglasses. Light brown hair shoots out from the bottom of his hat and curls at the ends.

“And I think you don’t drive a a truck with a flatbed for no reason.”

He grabs the back wall of the flatbed and pulls it down so that it’s open.

“I think you’re right. City girl.”

He stands infront of Ashe and his rough hands lie on ashes shoulders as they talk. He takes his hat off and leans down to kiss Ashe. They lean back as they kiss and ashes hat fall off his head aswell. Ashe can feel Lou’s bulge press against his belly as they kiss and Lou grabs one of ashes legs and lifts it. He holds ashes knee up at his hip and holds it there while they kiss. Lou g then picks Ashe up by the leg and sits him on the flatbed.

“You’re all mine lil lady.”

He pushes Ashe on his back and rips open the last button of the shirt.

“I always heard that boys from the city make better girls but I never believed it. Is it true?”

Ashe nods and Lou’s hands rub all over ashes chest and pinch his nipples.

“Show me then.”

Lou climbs up onto the flat bed and stays on his hands and knees over Ashe while still kissing him.

Lou pulls off his shirt and Ashe sees his toned body.

“Wow. You don’t mind if I just…”

Ashe lifts his hands up and pulls his ands over the hard, muscly body.

“Oh baby, that’s not what you’ll be impressed by.”

He pulls off his big, thick leather belt and then pulls his jeans down too. His dick flips out and it’s bigger than ashes forearm, and probably thicker too.

“Fuck, how does that even fit in your jeans!”

Lou smirks and shakes it around in his hand, making it even harder and bigger until it’s standing at full attention and 11”. The huge dick blocks the sun and casts a shadow all the way from ashes belly button to the top of his head.

“You’ll be even more impressed when I fit it in you.”

He reaches over and grabs his belt again. He grabs ashes wrists and binds them with the belt tightly and securely. He grabs ashes wrists and pins them against the bed of the truck and manoeuvres his dick to ashes mouth. Ashe opens his mouth wide open and it’s barely fits in.

“Be a good girl and take it all.”

He slowly lowers his hips and the dick slides in. It’s goes past his teeth and then to the back of his throat and down it. His dick goes down ashes throat and creates a huge bulge in his throat. Ashe gags and coughs as it slides further and further. The dick gets past his throat and to collar bones then a bit more. It feels like the huge, godly dick is in Ashes lungs when Lou’s balls rest on his chin and his bushy pubes surround his nose.

“I’m impressed citygirl. Noones ever gone that far before.”

He holds his dick there for a few seconds and then pull it all the way out. He looks at ashes face and sees his eye makeup starting to stream down his cheeks.

“I also heard that boys from the city have the best pussies too. How true is that?”

Chapter 3:

Ashe is still catching his breath when Lou pulls on ashes thing and it slides over ashe’s oiled skin right down to his ankles. He looks at ashes little dick and laughs.

“I bet you didn’t even know a dick could get this big, did you?”

He flicks ashes dick with his finger and then lifts ashes legs up. The boots and thong go flying up and then rest upright like a flagpole as Lou examines ashes hole. His finger slides over ashes ass and teases the desperate hole. He pushes ashes legs further back until his feet are by his head.

“I did gymnastics for 7 years so I’m pretty flexible.”

Ashe grins and then Lou moves Ashe wrists so that ashes knees are behind his shoulders and his legs are behind his head. Lou pulls a lasso from the truck bed.

“What?! They’re real? I thought they were just in movies.”

Lou holds it up and smiles.

“No, they’re very real… and very useful.”

He puts ashes ankles in the loop of the rope and then tightens it so that his feet are stuck behind his head. Ashes whole body is exposed and helpless to Lou but Ashe thinks that it could be worse.

“ you think you deserve boots like these?”

Lou brand the sole of ashes boots and waits for a response.

“Well, I’ve had some real cowboy in me and I fell like I will again. So yeah.”

Ashe winks his asshole but Lou doesn’t notice.

“Well, I don’t think you do and you’re in place to argue.”

He pulls the boots off of ashes feet and see the cute hello kitty socks under them.

“And that why, citygirl.”

He drops the boots off the side of the truck and moves his attention back to ashes feet.

“You don’t like hello kitty?”

Ashe asks sarcastically.

“Take a guess.”

Lou pinches the end of the sock and pulls it off. He sees ashes white painted toenails and rubs the soles of ashes feet. He’s soft and gentle with ashes feet and then pins them down to the truck with one hand and grabs his dick in other hand again.

“You still think you can take it all?”

Ashe’s eyes widen and his eyebrows drop.

“All?! No you can’t put it all in. It’ll rip me in-“

Ashes sentence is cut short by the thick tip pushing into his ass. The tip slides in and stretches Ashe wide and then the shaft slides in too.

“Oh my god. Lou please. It’s too big.”

Lou grabs the socks and stuffs them in ashes mouth.

“Ssshh. You’ll be fine.”

The shaft feels like it’s a mile long and won’t ever stop coming. It gets to the farthest Ashe has ever taken a dick and then pushes past the barrier. Ashes eyes water and his head cocks back as he screams into the socks.

“Nearly there. I bet you’ll take it all.”

The shaft keeps coming and Ashe can feel it pushing his belly out and bulging past his belly button. His guts get shoved out of the way as the giant dick fills his body. Finally a pair of heavy, full balls hit ashes asscheeks and he can’t help but shake.

“Holy shit. You actually did it. Where’s a girl like you on my ranch?”

He holds his dick where it is and look down to see the shape of his dick poking out of ashes belly.

“I guess citygirls do have the best pussies. Now I need to know what else this pussy can do.”

Ashe look up at him and screams no as loud as he can into the socks but Lou just smiles.

“Yes? Ok, whatever’s you want.”

He pulls his dick back and Ashe can feel his guts fall back into the places they should be and then once they all fall back into place the dick comes back to where it was. Ashe shakes and moans loudly as it fills him again.

“Mmm. Good girl.”

The dick pulls back again and then slams hard into ashes body and it feels like it hits his lungs. His body jerks and struggles as he moans and breathes heavily. Back again and then another slam into ashes soul. Lou grunts and then starts to fuck Ashe. His thrusts are hard and deep. He holds his free hand on ashes belly to feel his own dick and stop Ashe from squirming. He’s rough and grunts loudly as he fucks Ashe. Countless thrusts later and he pulls the socks out of ashes mouth

“You like that, citygirl?”

Ashe has to keep his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.

“YESSSS!!!!!”

He screams as loud as he can and Lou brings his head down and kisses ashes neck which makes Ashe blow his clear, inferior load all over his own belly.

“Haha. Seems like you really like it.”

Ashe just mumbles incoherently and screams. Lou scoops up a bit of the load and sticks it in ashes mouth which he sucks up eagerly.

“Oh, so you want my cum too? Is that it?”

He thrusts hard, deep and fast again.

“Y-y-y-y-YESSSS!!!!!!”

Lou’s sweat drips onto Ashe like a shower and covers him.

“I can do that then.”

He fucks Ashe deep and fast again for longer. It feels like a lifetime to Ashe but it’s really 20 minutes. After a while Lou stops and then pushes his dick as deep as he can into Ashe and holds it there. He grabs ashes head and kisses him as he holds it there.

“You ready for this?”

All Ashe can do is drool and main at this point so Lou pulls him in and kisses him hard in the mouth. A huge explosion of hit cum fills ashe up even more and actually makes his stomach bloat up. Lou grunts loudly into ashes mouth and then stands back on his knees with his dick still in ashe.

“Fuck, you really know what you’re doing.”

He pulls his dick out and ashes hole shoots cum out. It shoots out for 10 seconds like a fountain and covers the floor of the bed. Ashes hole can’t close and moves like a mount while never touching. Lou pulls his shirt and jeans back on and jumps out of the truck.

“Well, I guess yku should be getting to the beach now.”

He strolls round to the drivers seat and turns on the radio. Ashe is still tied up and mumbling nonsense in the back as the truck takes off.

Chapter 4:

Each bump in the road makes the cum slosh onto Ashe and makes his guts mover around again. After a couple minutes they get to the beach and Lou jumps out again. He loosens the lasso and ashes legs spring up and fall down to the truck again. He loosens his wrists aswell and Ashe just lies there. Lou pulls ashes thong back up and over his crotch but it gets instantly saturated with cum leaking out of ashes ass. He buttons ashes shirt too and then puts ashes hat in his head.

“Sorry about your boots, I forgot them back there. This should cover it though.”

He folds a $100 bill and slips it in ashes waistband like a stripper.

“This is your stop though so I guess the rides over.”

He picks Ashe up and places him on the sand beside the car. Ashe looks up, still trying to recover from the brutal fucking.

“See you around citygirl.”

Lou gets back in the truck and drives off, away from the beach. Ashe takes a few minutes to calm himself and then gets up to his hands and knees. His asshole still can’t close and he still feels Lou’s dick in his stomach. He tries to stand up but falls back down to his hands and knees straight away. After 20 more minutes, Ashe tries to get up again and succeeds. His asshole is still leaking and his legs are shiny with Lou’s cum. He stumbles into the store on the beach and puts on a pair of sunglasses in an attempt to hide his flushness. He looks through the swimwear section and sees the exact swimsuit he wants. It’s practically a handful of string and nothing else but that what Ashe wants. He takes the bikini to the till and pulls out that bills from his thong. He see the $100 that Lou gave him and sees a phone number and an address on it. He pays with the rest of the money and uses the store bathroom to change. A thin black string runs from one of his hips, past his dick and past the other hip. The bikini is 1 cm wide and leaves everything out. A little bit extra fabric is on the crotch but it’s just 2 inches wide and on the very bottom so Ashe has to hide his dick between his legs so it doesn’t pop out. The top is the same 1 cm string over his nipples and then it wraps over one of his shoulders too. The string doesn’t even cover his whole nipple, let alone his chest. He leaves the bathroom and grabs a pair of platform cork sandals that he bought and leaves.

Chapter 5:

The beach is busy and full of people. Ashe walks for a bit and then finds a spot to tan in. He lays his old clothes down beside him and lies down to catch a tan. His ass sticks up on the air, still leaking down his taint, and his dick rest between his thighs. He falls asleep for a bit and after an hour or so, he turns over. His back arches from the size of his ass and his dick is somehow still hidden. He goes to sleep again and when he wakes up his whole body is a perfect tan so he stands up. His asshole is nearly able to close but still has a couple millimetres gap, so a little trickle still comes out but all of Lou’s cum had now fully leaked out. With nothing else to do on the beach he decides to go to the beach bar on the wood sidewalk. He walks back past all the people and by this point it’s 4pm so everyone’s more relaxed and mostly lying or sitting down. He gets onto the wood sidewalk and slides his wedges on and walks to the bar that’s got music playing just as loud as the bustle from the customers. He walks past the people in the nearly full bar and sits down at the bar.

“Just a water please.”

The bartender swivels round from cleaning glasses and sees ashe sitting on the stool, practically naked. The man nods and then fills a glass with water and slides it to him. Ashe takes his first drink of water in hours and lets out a refreshed sigh after he does.

“Hot day isn’t it? Hottest all year I think.”

Ashe has his phone pulled out and his small bundle of clothes on his lap. He’s ordering an Uber to get home as the bartender talks to him.

“Uh, yeah. I think it is. Great for a tan.”

Ashe pulls the pathetic string on his chest and sees a thin park line around his chest. The man takes full notice of Ashes body and thinks to himself for a minute.

“Yeah. I am a boy. Deal with it.”

The waiter puts his hands up and walks away. Ashe finishes the glass of water and after 15 minutes of scrolling through instagram and he Uber arrives outside. Ashe still has a couple dollar bills so leaves them on the countertop just to be nice. He stands up and walk off, out of the now crowded bar. He bumps into people and gets pushed until he gets to the door. Most men don’t even notice him because of how short he is but all of their girlfriends do and give Ashe dirty looks to which he responds with a sarcastic smile. The car sits outside and Ashe goes up to the driver side window.

“Are you Abraham?”

The driver nods and ashe climbs into the back seat. The driver offers ashe a bottle of water and he takes it as he discards his clothes on the seat beside him. He drinks the water as the driver reads him his address and asks if that’s right.

“Yep. That’s me.”

The car starts and as soon as ashes head leans back on the car seat headrest he falls asleep. He only wakes up when the car stops and the man is telling Ashe to wake up. His eyes open and he takes in his surroundings.

“Alright. This is the destination. You’re free to leave.”

Ashe hastily grabs all of his stuff and thanks the man as he gets out of the car, still in his minuscule bikini, and walks up his driveway to his house. He unlocks the door and throws the clothes onto the floor, keeping his phone and the $100 tight in his fist. As soon as he gets upstairs, he jumps onto his bed and puts his phone and the bill onto his nightstand. His asshole can finally close now and he smiles, thinking about the day. He can’t help but stick a couple fingers up his butt as he types all of Lou’s information into his phone and then he falls back asleep. His fingers are still in his ass and it’s only 5:30pm but he falls straight asleep again with his body spread out.

Day 4:

Chapter 1:

7 am and the alarm blares again. Ashe wakes with a startle and looks at himself through the mirror on his roof until he’s ready to get up. After a few seconds of staring at himself, he reaches his hand over and turns off his alarm. That had been the longest sleep Ashe had taken in years so he wakes up feeling very refreshed which is good because today isn’t any normal day. It’s Comic-Con. Ashe gets up and strolls to his bathroom where he takes a shower and listens to music while he’s still waking up. He walks out of the shower, still dripping wet, and applies all of his daily moisturisers and other skincare products. He dries off and blow dries his hair and then walks back into his bedroom, still naked. He reaches into his wardrobe again and pulls out a tiny white crop top with gloomy bear on it and a bright pink velvet track suit. It’s small and tight so he lays it on his bed while he picks his shoes, chunky white Fila disruptors. The shoes lay on the floor as he pulls out a very thin g-string from one of his drawers and pulls it on. He pulls the tracksuit on too and it hugs all the right places. The pink velvet jacket is cropped and he keeps it zipper down slightly so that you can see the design on his top. His nipples re very hard and noticeable through the top and exposed by the jacket. Everything from his ribs down to his waist are exposed and shows off his new tan very nicely. Next, he pull on the bottoms and they slide over his ass then pop up once they’re past the widest part. They have the word “juicy” over his ass in white crystals and hugs his ass tightly. A pair of white ankle socks and then the shoes and he’s ready again. He grabs a bag off of the floor beside his bedroom door and walks out. He grabs his car keys from the hallway and leaves his house, getting into his car and driving to his best friend’s house. He arrives at her house and knocks on the door.

Chapter 2:

Footsteps thunder up to the door from inside and then the door bursts open with a scream.

“AAAAAAASSHHE!!”

Leah, his best friend, stands in the door way with her arms outstretched for a hug and her and eyes mouth wide open. Leah jumps up then down and then onto Ashe. Leah is taller than Ashe and very busty. Ashe screams with excitement too but gets cut off when Leah’s huge tits smother his face and they just jump on the spot instead. Leah pulls away and the drawstring of her satin dressing gown pulls away which exposes her whole front to the whole street. Leah pulls Ashe in by the wrist and then drops her dressing gown all the way off and walks off into living room of the house.

“Bitch. I love the outfit but you have to take that shot off.”

Leah stands in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips while staring at Ashe.

“Haha ok. You got your costume ready?”

Ashe slides off the shoes and then the bottoms and top until he’s also completely naked and standing in the middle of the room.

“Of course babe. Princess Leia.”

She stomps into the next room and Ashe follows. When they get in, Leah holds up a slave Leia costume that looks to be 3 sizes too small.

“Are you sure they’re gonna hold your tits?”

Leah smirks and holds the bikini up to her chest.

“Of course not! That’s the fun part.”

Ashe drops his bag and reaches in it then pulls out his own costume.

“Harley Quinn.”

A pair of extremely ripped fishnets, a red bikini bottom, black and red striped bikini top and a red leather jacket.

“Yes bitch! That’s all you. I bet it’ll look amazing.”

Both of them grin and then pull on their minuscule costumes. Ashe’s fishnets only have a few normal holes in them because 90% of them have been ripped by him or another man. His bikini bottoms sit neatly over his crotch and the bikini top shows how hard his nipples are. Leah’s tots are popping out of her top and her nipples are barely covered. Her ass isn’t fully covered by the piece of fabric that hangs from her waist band and her asscheeks are on full display at both sides.

“Bitch! that’s sooooo good!”

Both of them are exited and then sit down at the table in the room. It’s a makeup table covered in makeup, lights and mirrors and they both immediately get to work. Ashe gives himself smeared makeup and Leah recreates the movie makeup perfectly.

“Oh yeah, I brought this for later today too.”

Ashe opens up his bag again and pulls out a D.va bodysuit.

“Can I take some of this for later at the con?”

Leah finished her makeup and looks at the little bodysuit.

“Of course babe. Any time.”

Ashe kisses Leah’s cheek and squeezes her arm and shoves some makeup into the bag. Both their faces of makeup are finished now and they get up and walk into Leah’s bedroom.

“Thanks for being in this weeks posts. They’ve all been asking for someone like you.”

Ashe sits down on the big bed as Leah pulls out a big camera.

“What, a fag?”

They look at each other and laugh.

“Hahaha yeah!”

Leah pulls out a tripod and props the camera up on it facing the bed. She hits the record button and climbs onto the bed with Ashe. They’re both smiling flirtily and wriggling. They both get in their knees and then twerk towards the camera. Leah’s huge ass claps like thunder and ashes ass ripples like water with each pulse. Ashes tiny dick is held tightly in the bikini bottom and doesn’t move, it’s not even seen from the back. They both twerk and giggle before Leah reaches down beside the bed and pulls a huge dildo up.

“Mmm. You want all that in you? You want this big, fat, cock?”

Ashe moans and bites his lip. Leah pushes Ashe over onto his back and slides the bikini to the side.

“You’re so tight. So fucking tight.”

Leah pokes her finger on ashes asshole and the. Presses the tip of the dildo against ashes ass.

“Oh fuck. Please. I need it in me daddy. Fuck me daddy.”

Ashe holds his legs back by his shoulders as Leah slides the dildo in and thrusts it. Ashe moans loudly and exaggeratedly.

“Oh fuck! It’s so fucking big! Harder daddy!”

Leah flicks Ashe with the dildo for a couple minutes and then its ashes turn. He grabs the dildo and teases Leah’s pussy. She moans and begs just like Ashe did and moans just as much when she gets fucked. After a few more minutes of this, Leah pulls a massive double ended dildo out and both of them sit right infront of the camera. The moan and gag as they each suck one side each. They make it sloppy and wet as their spit bubbles each time the dildo slides down their throats. At the same time, they both deepthroat the dildo and their lips touch in the middle. They kiss hard with the dildo deep down both of their throats and the bulge is obvious in both of their necks. They only pull away when they both need air with a gasp. They go back to sucking and grab all over each others bodies. After a few minutes of this, they pull the dislike away and Leah slides one end of the dildo into her pussy which causes Ashe to grab the other end and shove it in his ass. They sit on their knees with the soles of their feet touching and both push their bodies back. The dildo disappears into them and they lean forward to reveal it again. They both moan loudly, practically screaming, and lean back again. They repeat this motion as their loud moans roll over each other and can probably be heard down the street. Their asscheeks slap against each other with claps and they use the dildo for a few more minutes. After this, Leah climbs off the bed and grabs the camera, a big buttplug and a syringe of thick, gooey, white liquid. Leah gets a close up of ashe’s gaping ass and then puts the nozzle of the litre syringe into it.

“Oh shit. Fill me daddy. I want you to get me pregnant. Please fill me daddy.”

Leah pushes the back of the syringe and fills ashes ass with the fake cum. After half the liquid is in, leah pulls the syringe back and shows the camera how wet and gooey ashes ass is. She shoves the the big jewel buttplug in. Ashe returns the favour and grabs the camera then pushes the rest of the goo into Leah’s ass too. Leah fills ashes ass with a butt plug too and they both look into the camera.

“Come meet us at Comic-Con. we’ll have these in all day.”

They make out one more time and then turn off the camera.

“Ok, give me one minute babe.”

Leah grabs her laptop from the bedside table and plugs a cable in between the camera and the laptop.

“That’s it up on onlyfans and…”

Leah crops out the first couple minutes of the video and only keeps the last bit and then posts it on twitter.

“… and twitter too. That’s us done until we’re there.”

They sit quietly and both look at their phones until Leah gets up and walks to her en-suite.

“I’m gonna go get rid of all this. Is my makeup still looking good?”

Ashe looks her over and examines her face.

“Maybe just touch it up. Looks good. You’re not keeping it in all day?”

Leah laughs as she disappears into the bathroom but keeps the door open.

“Are you kidding me? That’s crazy.”

“I’ll do it. Couldn’t hurt to get another video when we’re there.”

There’s a moment of silence as Leah thinks and then shouts back.

“You better not squirt that shit out on my car seats.”

they both laugh and Ashe says he won’t.

Chapter 3.

Leah gets finished farting out all of the fake cum into the toilet and then they’re ready to leave. Ashe pulls on a pair of high heeled chuck taylors while Leah puts on a normal pair of sandals and they leave. Ashe leaves all of his stuff at Leah’s while they’re at the convention and the whole 2 hour drive is spent listening to women rapping about being sluts and reading the funniest or most entertaining replies to the video.

“Oh, oh. This is a good one.”

Ashe coughs to clear his throat and then puts on a deeper voice to impersonate the commenter.

“You didn’t tell daddy you have a sister. Oh and then he comments on the again a couple minutes later. Wait… I’m not gay I just didn’t see that. Hahahahaha.”

They both laugh as Leah drives them. They eventually get to the convention and step out of the car in the parking lot. Thankfully it’s still quite warm because if it was cold they’d both freeze. They walk through the concrete parking lot and see the usual mix of skinny, nerdy guys and fat, greasy, nerdy guys with a handful of other cosplayers there too. They get to the actual convention centre and that’s where all the actual cosplayers actually are. There’s countless women with their chest on full show and tiny pieces of fabric as their cosplays so Ashe and Leah fit right in. Leah pulls out her phone as they walk through the bright, full, front room of the hall.

“Come on. Show everyone that you’re staying true to your word.”

Ashe slides the bikini bottom to the side even though the jewel of the plug is atleast five times wider than the string and bends over. the jewel is fully exposed and Leah giggles as she records this. The tip of ashes tiny dick pokes out of the bikini bottom and ashe has to quickly push it back into the position it had been delicately put in before. Leah laughs at this and ashes stands up with his sad excuse for manhood hidden again. They walk through the halls and countless guys stare at them or secretly take photos. A few guys ask to take photos with them and they oblique no matter how smelly, fat, gross or greasy they are. After half an hour of walking around, taking photos with props and looking at the stalls, Leah wanders off to get something to eat while Ashe stays in the hall. He walks for a few more minutes and looks at more stalls until a man asks for a picture.

“Um… hey. I saw you over there and I think I might have seen you on twitter.”

He’s already basically standing over Ashe and he gets a good look at the man. He’s fairly tall but also chubby. His long black hair falls on his shoulders and leaves slick marks where the grease lingers in his clothes. His face is greasy aswell and he’s wearing the typical nerd uniform. An overwatch T-shirt, blue jeans and some generic Nike running shoes.

“Oh yeah? What did you see? Was it from my streams?”

He looks puzzled as his mouth hangs open and his hot breath hits ashes head.

“Uh, no. I saw you from Leahbaby’s account. Y’know. The video where you-“

Ashe stops him before everyone around them hears what he’s going to say.

“Oh yeah. I remember that video. I guess you liked it then.”

He nods and smiles with his mouth still wide open.

“So what did you want? Just to compliment the video?”

His face goes more serious and his hands whip to ashe. One of his hands grabs ashes waist while the other prods inbetween his asscheeks until it finds the buttplug.

“No no. I wanted to see if you still have all that cum inside you.”

Ashes eyes go as wide as they can and he jerks back.

“Woah, you can’t just grab like that ok. Not cool.”

The man’s facial expression doesn’t change and he stares Ashe down which makes him uncomfortable.

“You said you’ll have it in all day and I want to see it.”

He looks more serious now and mouth is nearly closed.

“Oh ok. There’ll be a video up later or I can send you one if you sub to my onlyfans I guess.”

His hands clench into fists.

“No. I want to see it now. You said that you love me and I want to see it now.”

Ashe is lost for words as he tries to figure out what the man had just said.

“What. I said that I… love you? What are you talking about?”

His face softens a bit and he looks down at Ashe.

“I’m your daddy. You said it yourself, I’m your daddy and you love my dick. Look.”

He pulls out his phone and the Lock Screen is just a photo of ashe bending over and showing the camera his asshole.

“That’s not- it’s just a - I don’t.”

Ashe takes a minute and I think of why he’s saying and to see if the man’s being serious. He is.

“It’s just a thing that we say… in the industry I mean, I dont even know your name.”

his face straightens again.

“It’s daddy to you. Daddy for my kitten.”

Ashe didn’t find the man attractive or appealing in any way but for some reason, the way he said that triggered ashes daddy issues and made him instantly horny.

“Ok, well I guess I could maybe show you in there.”

Ashe points to a conference room connected to the wall of the big convention hall.

“Of course kitten follow me.”

The man walks away with clumpy steps and Ashe follows him to the conference room. He opens the door and invites ashe in with a hand gesture which ashe accepts. When ashe walks into the empty room, the man walks in behind him and locks the door.

“You’re all mine now kitten.”

Chapter 4:

The man pounces onto Ashe and grabs ahold of him tightly. He pulls on the leather jacket and yanks it off of him which makes the little Harley Quinn themed backpack on ashes back fall onto the floor beside the jacket. Ashe is left standing in the sun room wearing only a bikini set and fishnets as the man has a fierce look in his eyes.

“Ok, look. Maybe I should just get out of here actually. I don’t know if- “

The man wraps his hand over Ashe mouth and coos him.

“Shhh baby. It’s alright. Daddy’s here now.”

His free hand goes straight back to the buttplug and he moans as he pushes his fingers against it. The man pushed Ashe to the floor and pulls the bikini bottoms off. Ashe is too frightened to scream or make noise because of how unhinged the man seems so just lets him. The man pulls off the bikini bottom and then the top and stuffs them into his pocket. He pulls off the high heel converse and puts them to the side.

“You must have seen my comments then. You know that fishnets are my favourite. I knew you loved me.”

The man’s fingers grasp and pull at what’s left of the destroyed fishnets and pulls them hard to rip them until they’re completely ruined and just one long string.

“Oh wow. I’ve never had a girl naked infront of me.”

The man pulls his phone out of his phone and quickly takes a photo of Ashe on the floor before he can react. Ashe tries to cover himself but it’s too late and the photo’s already been taken. Ashe has hunks about what the man said and how obvious it is that he’s a virgin but gets cut off when the man lunges forward. His lips lock onto ashes chin and bottom lip and suck hard. Ashe can taste that the man had been eating noodles and monster earlier and this didn’t surprise him. The man moans and fumbles as he tries to pull down his jeans.

“You’re my wife now. That’s what this means. I own you now.

The man finally manages to get his jeans down and his ,slightly below average, dick pokes out from his underwear. He pulls down the underwear too and pushes his duck against ashe’s leg. The man rubs his dick back and forth from ashes thigh to his hip bone a handful of times until he cums and shoots his load all over ashes leg.

“Oh fuck, that was so good. Not a virgin anymore now. Epic.”

The man gets up onto his feet.

“Can I go now… daddy?”

The man looks disinterested at Ashe but thinks to himself.

“No. I own you now. You know that. I own you.”

He pulls the bikini bottoms out from his pocket and plays with it.

“Oh but… Im hungry now.”

That’s ashes best excuse on the spot and he prays to god that it works.

“Oh yeah. That’s was pretty long and hard. Hahaha.”

The man’s fake laugh stops as quickly as it starts and he stares down at Ashe.

“We’ll get up then. Well get you something to eat and then go home.”

Ashe gets up to his feet, which the man stares at, and Ashe looks up at him.

“I can’t go out like this.”

“Like what?”

“Naked.”

The man plays with the bikini more and bites his lip to think.

“These are mine now though. I want you to be naked now though.”

“I can’t… daddy. I have another in my bag.”

Ashe cringes while saying daddy but the man doesn’t notice.

“Ok then. Change, slave.”

Ashe gives him a dirty look but the man doesn’t react and Ashe pulls out his D.va costume. The man’s eyes widen and he grins from ear to ear.

“You saw all my comments, you’re the best wife.”

Ashe pulls the tiny suit on over his body as the man watches and it’s extremely tight. Leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Ok, we can go now.”

The man holds ashes shoes and bag which only had makeup in it so that Ashe has nothing on him except for the very thin fabric around his body and the hair flips from the costume. The man lingers behind Ashe until the man tells ashe to go to the toilets.

“I need a piss. Wait here for me baby.”

He walks into the men’s toilets and as soon as he’s out of eye sight, ashe runs off. He gets as far away as he can. He gets to the other side of the hall before he hears the man shouting for him outside the bathroom. Ashe runs into Leah who was strolling around the stalls and browsing all the items to buy.

“Oh. You have your other cosplay on. I guess you had a good time in the other one then.”

Leah winks and ashe grabs Leah’s hand to pull her away.

“Yeah. Something like that. I think we need to go though.”

Ashe pulls on Leah hard and Leah follows while trying not to fall over.

“Geez. Ok. We’re going. Atleast tell me what happened.”

Ashe doesn’t look backward and keeps leading them through the crowd.

“Later babe.”

They get through the hall and to the front entrance without any bother and take no one asks for photos with Ashe now because he has the complete wrong hair and makeup for the costume and a few people are observant enough to notice the tiny bulge he has. they get through the front door and to the parking lot where they hastily walk tool the car.

“So, what happened babes?”

“Just some creep being a creep. Forget it.”

Leah can see that it was upsetting to Ashe but she could also see that now wasn’t the time to ask about it so she just left it.

“Ok. Well I guess we just go home then.”

Ashe nods as Leah says this but then stops in his tracks.

“Oh fuck. It’s coming back. Quick, get your camera out.”

Leah pulls out her phone and starts recording as Ashe frantically tries to unzip his suit but can’t do resorts to just ripping the ass and crotch open. As soon as the suit rips open, the plug flies out and so does a waterfall of thick, gooey fake cum. Ashe moans loudly and dramatises this for the camera and then falls to his back in the puddle of cum. The sticks his fingers into his ass and the fabric around them immediately saturated and gets soaked.

“Ok, maybe we should do this in the car.”

Leah pauses the video and pulls Ashe to his hands and knees then leads him to the back seat of her car. When they both get in, Leah resumes the video and ashe continues fingering his hole while they both moan and squirm. Leah props up the phone on a phone stand in the front of the car that creates a perfect view for the backseat. The video continues as both of them finger themselves at the same time and then eat each other out and eventually both of them get covered in Leah’s squirt and all of their makeup falls off. The video ends with them both I front of the camera desperately doing their best aheago and moaning while drooling.

Chapter 5:

“Fuck. I just cleaned this car last week. You’re paying half this time.”

“Ok ok. I’ll pay it all. This was too much fun to pass up on.”

Leah accepts the offer and they both get into the front seats and make the drive back to their houses.

“Upload that. I think that’ll do really good.”

“What should I call it?”

“Um… I don’t know… something like, D.va drowns in princess Leia’s squirt and cums for you.”

Ashe uploads the video under that name to onlyfans and crops all the best bits out but uploads and 20 second version of the video to twitter and the rest of the car ride home is spent reading all the best comments again. Leah drops off Ashe at his home and they hug before Ashe leaves the car.

“You look good in that suit. You should do more videos in it.”

Ashe smiles as he steps out of the car.

“Awww, thanks babe. You know I’m free most of the time so we could record whenever you want… and I always have guys on speeding too.”

Leah grins and they both say bye as ashe shuts the door and walks to his front door. Leah speeds off with music blaring. As soon as he gets in the door, ashe looks through his twitter mentions, he sees his usual thousand comments, new followers and other types of interactions but the first thing in his timeline is from an account he doesn’t recognise. There’s a block of two videos and two photos so he looks at them. First, there’s a photo of ashe from behind wearing his Harley Quinn cosplay and the video zooms in on all parts of his body. There’s then a photo of ashes cosplay lain out on a floor with what looks like cum all over it. The next block is the photo of Ashe that he’d taken earlier. It showed Ashe on his back looking up at the camera with surprise. His dick looked as small as ever and thankfully the angle actually made his waist look nice and small. The last block is a video of the man cumming all over the clothes with ashes Reddit on his monitors and him moaning as he jerks off. The comments ask who Ashe is but he refuses to tell them because he still thinks that Ashe is now his wife so he instead tells them to fuck off or find their own wife. Ashe goes to bed after a few hours of switching between watching TikTok’s, looking through Pinterest and replying to onlyfans dms.

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 3 years

Text

It Was You All Along (Part 7)

Author’s note: So that wasn’t much of a break, but I couldn’t resist! Here is the next installment of the series, featuring a meme I made myself to reflect the vibes of the first half of this part! And yes, it is supposed to be that pixely. It adds spice. Also, I tried to be as vague as possible describing reader’s outfit towards the end so that you could imagine it the way you wanted! As always, feedback is appreciated, and I hope you all enjoy! Link to my ask box!

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @weaselbee04 @bravelittlesunflower @mxsmwndr

A voice called for me, but I didn’t quite process it. I was too busy trying to fix this gigantic, gaping hole in Geralt’s trousers. Melitele knows if I don’t do it, he would just walk around with it decorating his attire.

The voice called for me again, but this time I ignored it on purpose. If I lost concentration, I would prick myself with the needle...again. And I didn’t really want to turn my fingers into more of a bloody mess than they already were.

I heard footsteps beside me, but I didn’t realize how close they were until a rush of coldness surrounded my body. Not only coldness, but wetness. A bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on me, causing me to scream and drop what I was doing as I stood up in shock.

“Julian!”

His real name still felt unfamiliar on my lips. I had taken to calling him that every so often, usually when I was angry with him, or when I was messing with him. It was for that reason, I think, that he froze so suddenly when I spoke. He wasn’t used to it either, even though he was the one that suggested I start using it more.

The bucket made a small thump sound as it hit the ground beneath us, and Jaskier raised his hands up in an apology. But he also backed away like a scared animal. I almost felt bad for him. Almost, but not quite.

“Now, (Y/N)...I was just trying to get your attention is all. It’s quite important, you see.”

I gathered my skirts in my hands and stomped towards him, scowling and shivering the whole way.

“What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t wait until I was finished? And what made you think dumping cold water on me was a good idea?”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I starting running towards him, my clothes making a sloshing noise against my skin. A string of curse words left his mouth as he took off trying to get away from me. He could be quite fast when he wanted to be. But no way was I going to let him get away from me that easily.

As soon as he picked up speed, so did I. He wove through the trees surrounding our campsite, going in between them like a maze. Eventually we made it back to where we started. My spot was near a tree and the pants I had been working on were visibly in a bunch on the ground. But behind that was the river that I’m assuming the idiot got the water in the first place. I wonder if I could lead him back there... and “accidentally” knock him in.

As luck would have it, I didn’t even have to put that thought into action. He had made his way to the edge of the river, and turned quickly on his heel trying to run away from me again. But he slipped on the muddy bank, and fell right into the water himself.

Coming to a stop, a sharp laugh came from my chest suddenly. And I laughed even harder when he bobbed above the surface, hair sticking to his forehead and his fancy doublet soaked.

“That’s what you get!” I yelled to him between bouts of laughter.

While Jaskier pulled himself out of the water unceremoniously, I heard more footsteps behind me followed by a thud. Geralt must be back. Only one man I know could walk and sit down that heavily.

I turned towards the sound, and sure enough, Geralt was sitting down on the log he had claimed as his earlier. He took one look at me and one look at Jaskier who was now standing on the bank of the river, shivering like his life depended on it.

“I don’t even want to know,” said Geralt with a twitch of his eyebrow and a roll of his eyes.

Night had fallen now. I couldn’t help but reflect on the past few months since that attack at our camp. Things had been pretty boring since then honestly. But I guess I couldn’t complain. Being bored was better than being in danger.

Geralt was asleep and snoring at an unholy volume. This of course caused a glance between Jaskier and I, and sent us into a fit of silent laughter together. The kind of laughter that had your stomach hurting and your mouth open with no sound. The kind that had you grabbing onto your friend for dear life. Which is precisely what the two of us were doing right now. I had such a grip on Jaskier’s arm, I thought he surely must be in pain. But if he was, he made no mention of it and kept laughing with me.

However much time had passed, it seemed to only be a few minutes. And I still had my hand on his arm, although my grip definitely lessened. He didn’t notice this either, and simply looked into the dying flames with dried tears from his laughter on his cheeks. My gaze lingered a moment too long on his cheeks, and I began to think about how gentle his eyelashes looked against his skin as he blinked.

Heat rose in my cheeks and I silently withdrew my hand from his arm. This seemed to catch his attention though.

“Composed yourself now? Don’t need to steady yourself from anymore laughter?”

There was a glint in his eye as he asked me the questions. I had to keep from smiling.

“That depends. Got any jokes?”

He stood suddenly and rested a hand on his chin, making it seem like he was deep in thought.

“You look as if you are composing a new song, Julian.”

“I’m a musician, my dear, I am always composing.”

He paced around the fire, which was even lower than before. The way he took everything so seriously was something that entertained me, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself because of it.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth in a silent “Aha!”

“(Y/N), why must you never use a broken pen?”

I paused for a moment and scrunched my face in thought, trying to come up with an answer. But before I could, he delivered the punch line.

“It’s pointless, darling.”

I snorted at the same time Geralt groaned. The fucker was awake.

Jaskier almost jumped out of his boots at the sudden noise, which only caused me to laugh again. The pain in my stomach from earlier was back, but I couldn’t keep from laughing.

“Have you been awake this whole time, Geralt?” Jaskier yelled in surprise.

“Long enough. Don’t you have anything better to do? Like sleep?”

Jaskier open and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a simple, “Right,” in response. He then took his spot a few feet away from Geralt and laid down for the night.

“Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier said with a stifled yawn.

Geralt simply grunted in return, rolling over so his back was facing Jaskier.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Jaskier called in my direction.

“Goodnight, Jaskier. And goodnight Geralt!”

“Hmph,” was all I got in response.

There was a silence over our camp now. But it was too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt like it would be broken at any moment now. Jaskier’s voice was what broke it, of course.

“Goodnight, Roach.”

“Oh, yeah! Goodnight, Roach and Lily!” I called out excitedly.

“How could I forget Lily? Goodnight, Lily!” Jaskier parroted.

“Oh, for the love of-” Geralt groaned loudly, sitting up and gathering his things. He promptly moved farther and farther away from us, settling on a spot under the cover of darkness in the trees.

I snickered to myself as I got my things ready to lay down. Annoying Geralt had become one of our favorite things to do together over the past few months.

It became silent again, and I could hear Jaskier’s even breathing now, signalling that he was asleep. I had the feeling I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Call it instinct, I guess.

I laid down on my back and stared up at the sky. Jaskier and I were closer than ever, and it was so nice. But I needed more. I craved more. They say time heals all wounds, but my heart was still shattered after all these months had gone by. I was still so in love with my best friend that it hurt. Even more than it did before.

Jaskier had been acting differently lately though. He called me more nicknames, and he was even more of a flamboyant disaster than when I first met him. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him with any random women in bars or taverns anymore. Could he-? No. No way. I must be out of my mind.

My fingers instinctively went to the dagger Geralt had given me a while ago. Sometimes I would run my hands along the inscription, trying to remind myself to be brave like it said. I could almost laugh at myself right now. I was being anything but brave when it came to Jaskier.

“Could you please calm your nerves down? I can feel them from over here,” a gruff voice said in the distance. Geralt. Of course.

“Sorry to disturb you. Maybe you should move to another new spot, even farther away. Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. How is Yennefer?”

I didn’t have to have Witcher senses to feel how that comment landed.

Morning came much more quickly than I was hoping it would. It meant today was the day we had to get moving, which meant we would be moving closer to the situation I had been trying to avoid thinking about. The ball.

I seemed to be the last one awake, and I could feel the energy as soon as I had rubbed the sleepiness from my reluctant eyes. Geralt sad brooding in the corner of our camp, and Jaskier was flitting about getting everyone’s things together. It was easy to see who was excited and who was not.

“Today is the day, you sad sack of...sadness,” Jaskier vocalized in regards to Geralt.

“I know. Don’t remind me.”

I almost laughed as I sat up from my spot on the ground. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to this, and truth be told, I wasn’t either. At least part of me wasn’t. The other part couldn’t help being excited in a childlike way. I had never been in a castle before, let alone a ballroom. Although I couldn’t help but feel like I would be out of place, and painfully so.

“Don’t look so excited, Geralt.”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened at the last one.”

I winced and realized that he was right. Although Jaskier had told me some of what happened, I was almost certain that he watered down the events of Pavetta’s betrothal ball in doing so.

The man in question turned to look at me, apparently just now realizing I was awake.

“There you are! Come on, we are losing daylight!”

“Jaskier, do I even really need to come? Geralt is only going to be your body guard, so I don’t really have a purpose.”

“Don’t be silly. You must come! We couldn’t just leave you by yourself for hours at a time. These things do tend to take a while.”

I rolled my eyes and stood, stretching as I did so.

“I am a grown up, you know. I can take care of myself. Afraid I might get kidnapped?”

Jaskier scoffed and continued packing, mostly ignoring my comment. But it was true, I could take care of myself. Geralt had taught me some things with the dagger over the past few weeks, and I felt confident in my abilities.

“Well if I must go, at least be careful with my dress and things. I’m sure Yennefer paid good money for them.”

“The witch probably stole them, more like.”

I watched as Jaskier carefully started packing my things, and tried not to cackle when Geralt made a comment about shoving his foot somewhere it didn’t belong in reference to Jaskier.

Today was going to be quite...something.

Since we had done most of the travelling yesterday, what was left for today didn’t take long. We made it to the castle in no time it seemed.

Lily and Roach were tied up in the stables, in the same stall actually. I was quite happy that the stable master was willing to do that. They always seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

I sat in my borrowed room getting ready, and I was assuming that Geralt and Jaskier were in their own rooms doing the same thing. But that thought was at the back of my mind now as I looked at myself in the mirror. Or at least, what I think was myself. I didn’t really recognize the woman staring back at me.

Yennefer had picked out the most beautiful, elegant, and intricate floor-length ballgown I could ever imagine. It was sleeved as well, with lace adorning them to match the bodice. The skirt was made of layers on layers, it seemed, and with every move I made it swished gently to follow. It was even in my favorite color. I wonder how she knew? I don’t remember telling her...

She had also gotten me some jewelry to match, and the metals and gems complimented my skin tone perfectly. How did she know all this? I had only met her once, and it was very briefly. I would have to thank her for all this later.

Not long after I had finished getting dressed, jeweled, and made up, a knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I called.

Jaskier entered in his outfit for the night. It was a dark, silky purple with golden accents along the doublet’s center, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him in the reflection of the mirror I sat in front of.

“You look breathtaking, darling,” he said in a whisper as he approached me.

Hopefully he didn’t notice the blush creeping up the sides of my neck. I don’t think I would ever get used to his names for me.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Compare that to when you fell into the water yesterday and looked like a dying animal, you basically are a different person.”

Jaskier feigned anger, but I could tell he was amused.

“Do you like your clothes? I made sure to tell Yennefer all your favorite colors and shiny things.”

My heart skipped a beat. He had told her all of that? I didn’t even know that he knew those things about me.

I stood before really thinking about what I was doing, and turned to face him, the shock evident on my face.

“You told her all that? I didn’t know that you knew such trivial facts about me...Thank you.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“Of course I know. And it was no problem. I had to make sure she didn’t dress you in an unflattering way.”

I tilted my head in thought, almost as a reflex, and it caught his attention.

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?” Jaskier asked me quietly with a crooked smile.

“I seem to be thinking about everything and nothing at once...but I am mostly wondering how you convinced the people hosting this ball to let me in. Geralt is your security, of course, I get that. But how did you get me in? I’m no one special.”

He was silent for a moment and stared at a spot past me, for almost so long I didn’t think he would reply. But then he did, with an odd look on his face that showed happiness and some other emotion I didn’t recognize.

“I told them you were my muse. A musician cannot perform without their muse.”

My mouth twitched as if to fall open in shock. but I didn’t let it. I didn’t want him to see how this affected me.

“I’m your what?”

“My muse. You know, inspiration?”

I shook my head furiously, matching the speed at which my heart was beating.

“I know what it means. But why did you tell them that? You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse to get me in here? You didn’t have to lie to them.”

You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse in order to keep me from getting my hopes up?

He looked at me with a smile. But it was a pained smile. Then for a second, it looked like he might speak. Until Geralt passed by the open door way and told Jaskier it was time to go. The crowd was waiting on him.

I stood frozen in the same spot I had been in, and I watched them leave. First Geralt, then Jaskier following behind him. At the last second before leaving the doorway, he stopped, placing a hand on the frame.

Finally he turned to me, and looking over his shoulder, he simply said:

“I didn’t lie.”

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phrynewrites · 2 years

Note

if you’re down to do h word, maybe 84 (“you’re really good at that.”) and 146 (“Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, I was just..” “Want some help?”) for jasco?

Babes, you and like 7 other people asked for it, so I hope it doesn't disappoint. Here's some very h-word fake dating au Jasco. This takes place after the last angsty prompt.

Smut below the cut. If you want the lil-angsty bit at the end, it's after the next break.

Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The girl who stumbled out of the apartment, fixing the strap on her dress, swaying side to side as she walked, paid Jasmine no mind as she walked through the threshold, setting the groceries and two coffees on the kitchen counter.

Jasmine, however, wished she could pay no mind.

She was another of Bosco’s dates—if she could call them that. A furious string of women they worked their way through each week. They went out, came home, hooked up, told Jasmine about it, and then she’d nod along, pretend like it was something she enjoyed, like they were just friends again, just sharing their exploits like they always had. Like she didn’t used to be the girl Bosco talked about.

There was no room for self-pity though. If Jasmine could have just said…well, she didn’t and she couldn’t, so there was no use speculating.

Jasmine shut the door and picked up a coffee. A vanilla soy latte. It was Bosco’s favorite coffee, though they’d never admit it.

“I got the groceries,” Jasmine announced as she approached their door. “Also I got one of those fancy cupcakes. I know you said they’re expensive, but-”

Jasmine cut herself off at the sound of soft whines across the way, a recognizable sound that stopped her blood from flowing, froze her in the doorway, glancing over Bosco splayed out on their bed, fingers pushing their panties to the side…

“Shit, sorry.” Jasmine looked up, focusing on the smattering of paintings above their bed. “I just got you a latte and thought you’d like it before it gets—”

Bosco huffed. “Don’t be weird, Jas, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Swallowing her words, Jasmine stole another glance. “Wait, were you just…but that girl was just…”

And Jasmine wanted to finish with “clearly fucked sideways” and “probably still working her way down the five-story staircase” but she bit her tongue.

Bosco sat up, resting their hands on their thighs, curling their fingers tight. They let out a breath.

“No, Jas. I was just.” They carded through their hair, giving a tug. Their chest—marked with a myriad of fresh and old hickies—heaved. “Trying to finish. And I don’t need your sympathy or your comment—”

“If you want…I could…” Jasmine set the coffee cup on Bosco’s dresser. “If you want some help, maybe.”

Bosco was tentative, scanning over Jasmine, as though it were their first meeting. Like they needed to analyze her thoroughly. Even though it was still Jasmine, same as ever, the same person that not months ago they’d…

It didn’t matter.

“Don’t be weird, Sco,” Jasmine tried to lighten the mood. “Like you said, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Yet Bosco continued, their focus unnerving. But as Jasmine finally turned to leave, Bosco muttered back. “Ah, fuck it. Just…please…”

Jasmine started slowly, teasingly, kissing every mark on their body, like they were left by her and not someone else. Her thighs on either side of their hips pinned them down as she worked methodically, making up for lost time—

“Could you please—” Bosco whined, cut off as Jasmine flicked her tongue over their nipple, the ball of the ring shifting slightly, making Bosco hiss.

“Fuck, princess.” Their head tore to the side and Jasmine stole the opportunity to latch onto their neck, leave marks of her own, make them hers again.

She drifted up, giving their ear a little nip before whispering, “Shame someone left you like this.” Her hand drifted down between them, brushing against their underwear—soaked through. “So needy.”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Bosco gritted out. “How…you’re good at that.”

Jasmine pressed a saccharine kiss against their jaw, feeling their hot breath against her cheek, and muttered, “learned from you.”

They tried to snake their hand down to meet Jasmine’s to get some relief, but she batted it away.

“Nah-uh.” She settled down, thighs tight against them, grinding her hips before stopping cold, leaving them panting, wanting. “Tell me what you want.”

Through heavy-lidded eyes, through hitched breah, Bosco muttered, “mouth. Please. I miss…”

Jasmine swallowed their words with a kiss before trailing downward again, settling between their thighs. She pressed a kiss into their inner thigh, one of their most sensitive spots, and slipped their panties off as their hips bucked.

“Please,” the whisper was soft, barely breaking through their breathing as they fisted the sheets.

“Calm down, love.” Jasmine hooked their leg over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of you.”

___

Jasmine dug through Bosco’s dresser in search of a clean shirt. It was familiar to Jasmine. She could see herself doing the exact same motion in montage, though it usually ended in her putting on the t-shirt and settling in next to Bosco, their arms open to her. And she’d rest her head against their chest, their heartbeat trying to steady, trying to steady hers.

But now it was just Bosco, just starting to sit up, slipping into their underwear slowly. And now they can’t even look at Jasmine.

She throws a shirt to Bosco and turns to grab them the coffee—definitely now cold, when a photo on the dresser catches her eye.

It’s one from her and Bosco’s trip upstate. In the picture, Jasmine’s feeding an apple slice to a russet brown horse. She’s beaming. She remembers the horse—Starburst was her name—taking it with ease, letting Jasmine pet her mane. And she remembers Bosco so infectiously happy as well.

“You should, uh…” Jasmine stalled, pointing at the picture. “Put this away. Might turn your dates off, you know?”

Jasmine passes them the coffee.

They nod. “I know.”

#please tell me if we like this #it'd mean a lot because my smut writing skills are between rusty and non-existant #for anon #fake dating au #jasco fake dating au #gwb au #jasco #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr fic #rpdr fanfic #phryneff #asks answered

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mustyrosewater · 3 years

Text

↪ 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 :

𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 -

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 : 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 30𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘳, 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 4𝘬+

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

they say that time passes in the blink of an eye, days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, and months turn to years. this is both true and utterly wrong. because despite the fact that it was coming up on ten years since you'd left colombia behind, all at the same time, it felt like yesterday, but also as if it had been twenty years. at first it had been hard, moving back in with your mama and papa. you wanted to be ashamed that you had finally proven them right, that you were too young and immature to move to colombia on your own, and that, eventually, you'd be returning to them in tears. while this was correct, you were all the more surprised at the fact that you were welcomed with open arms, no judgement to found, finding that they were more so just happy to have their baby girl back. as before, despite the fact that that had been nearly ten years ago, the memory still pulled at your heart strings even to this day. one of the nicer memories to string back to your departure from colombia, rather than the ones that were the bane of your existence and you avoided recalling with all of your might, the ones that only crept their way back into your head after one too many glasses of wine. memories such as crying almost every night for the first week or so of being back in san francisco, laying in bed at night, unable to sleep purely because you were kept up by the sheer terror at the idea that you'd made the wrong decision and that life was only going to continuously go ever more downhill from here. it took another year for you to move out of your parents place, despite their insistence that you were welcome to stay longer, and moved into your own small apartment. it was lonely for the first month or so, but your newly acquired job as a receptionist at the law firm just around the corner was convenient and decent money, enough to maintain and semi comfortable lifestyle, even if some dinners for a week were nothing but ramen on the weeks that your landlord decided you'd used the washing machine one too many times. even if he was a bit of scumbag, it was enough for you, nothing you couldn't handle with reminders of how much worse it could be, reminding yourself to stay grateful for what you didn't have to deal with, in comparison to what you did. it was a relative uneventful 2 year's of that same apartment, apart from a few family weddings and quince's you had to attend, as well as a promotion after a year at the law firm. as the 80's slowly transferred into the 90's, you were pleasantly surprised to see all the changes forming around women in the workplace, suddenly, it was as if a whole new world of opportunity was available to you. you found yourself doing something you thought was closed off to you the moment you left, only now, you were back, the world was at your fingertips. it only took you another 2 years of what could only be described as floundering, feeling nothing but numbness as you went back to the same job every day, only to go back home to an empty and quiet apartment, to decide to go to school. never one to take the simple option, you of course opted to begin preparation for a phD. keeping your receptionist job but also taking on the occasional spanish lesson and translating job to those who needed it, already planning to begin saving money where you could. the first two years of obtaining your masters was stressful to say the least, but you couldn't say it wasn't giving you something to occupy your time with, time that wasn't spent thinking of colombia. time spent not thinking of him. the reason you'd sworn of dating the moment you stepped foot back in san francisco, only to be even more so when you began school. never again were you going to let your heart drag you down, you'd put your foot down, tired of crying over a man who had likely forgotten who you were in the first year of your absence. from now on, your purpose was to serve yourself, and only yourself. or at least, that was the plan, a plan you'd stayed true to for the first two years, gaining your masters and even in the beginning stages of gaining your phD. contrary to the gossip sessions countless tia's held about your love life and your weakness as a hopeless romantic, your promise to only serve yourself was not broken with a romance, but rather, a friendship. hitting the magic 30 was supposed to be an experience that women dreaded, a time spent crying over red wine about the fact that they were finally starting to age. instead, you'd found it to be a liberating experience, having begun teaching only 10 months short of your 30th birthday. it hadn't taken long for you to become friendly with most of your students, you were easy enough to talk to and most of them were pleasant to teach. despite the occasional disrespect here and there, it wasn't difficult to straighten them back up, wasting no time reminding them of the fact that were more than welcome to leave the class should they find the material uninteresting. a reminder that often shut them up. it was safe to say that it didn't take you long to fall in love with teaching, unable to hide the fact that you saw so much of yourself in your students, taking the steps that you first had when moving back here. and while you had friendly relationship's with your students, it was inevitable before you couldn't stop yourself from intervening. alex raya was a sweet kid, filipino american with an almost always goofy attitude, but still always handed in his assignments right on time, honestly a pleasure to have in class. it was at first hard to put in the words the dynamic that began between you two, beginning to day he'd handed in an assignment late for the first time in the 7 months you'd been teaching him. you couldn't help yourself, you wouldn't have been able to forgive yourself if you hadn't check up on him. so when you'd asked to see him after class, the expression on his poor little face broke your heart. gone was the positive attitude that alex always brought to class, only replaced by a quiet young man who could barely even look you in the eye as he sat across from your desk. it wasn't hard for you to realize that alex raya had never experienced any form of parental concern in his entire life, because the moment you asked him if everything was ok, and he realized that you meant it, he broke down. through his laboured breathing, he explained to you that he and his father had had a screaming match over the phone, and that his money was being cut off, and that now his landlord was demanding the rent, otherwise he was going to be kicked out. you couldn't help but take pity on him, only getting up from your desk to give him a hesitant hug before promising him you were going to help him get this fixed. you let him come over to your apartment for dinner that night, even if it wasn't exactly a home cooked meal, oven pizza seemed only slightly better than ramen, not that you would have known it by the way that he practically demolished the pieces he was given, only to let him finish yours when you realized how hungry the poor kid was. not at all shy about opening up to you whatsoever, alex was more than happy to explain his situation, confiding into you practically his entire childhood. as he went on and on, detailing the emotional neglect he suffered throughout his childhood, up until leaving home to attend college, you couldn't hide the few small tears escaping your eyes. that was the night you took alex raya under your wing officially. it wasn't hard to scrounge up enough money to save his small apartment for that week, convincing him to sell his super nintendo along with a few nice branded items, however, was much harder. from that point on, it became a regular routine of yours to go to alex's and cook him one big dinner, allowing for pre packed meals to be stored in his fridge, as well as helping him out with his schoolwork, promising you'd be able to get him by even with the missed assignment. he'd always told he was going to pay you back one day, which you'd only reply to by shushing him and insisting that getting a job and keeping up with his schoolwork was payment enough. you even helped him get a job. the benefit of having relatives all over san francisco meant that it only took three phone calls before you were able to get him an interview at a bowling alley that your cousin owned, by that week he was a new employee. it took hitting you 30th birthday to be able to admit to yourself that you had begun to see alex as a son. even if you were only 14 years older than him, it was enough for you to take on the role of the mother he was never able to have with ease. he even started to jokingly call you tiya, explaining it meant 'aunty' in tagalog. you'd be lying if you said it hadn't warmed your heart to be told that, and that you had to go into the bathroom so he wouldn't see you making sure your mascara wasn't running. it wasn't to say that your kindness wasn't repaid though, in his own little ways, alex was looking after you as well, even if not directly. it was always the little things with alex, your own personal alarm clock as well as your reminder that it was ok to go to sleep after five hours of sitting on your couch grading papers. especially when on your 30th, you found a card on your desk signed by him wishing you a happy birthday, along with a little note on the bottom making a snarky crack about the fact that you were 'now the big three o, tiya!! live it up!!' it now sat on your book shelf, always there to remind you of the young man you now considered a son figure. after nearly a year, you even decided to take him to one of your family dinners where everybody, cousins, nieces, tia's, everybody, met up for a big feast. not only was he welcome, he was welcomed with open arms, and by the end of the night was considered a part of your family, especially after the right of passage when all of your little cousins were practically climbing him and giggling away. it was honestly safe to say that being able to support and care for somebody else for the first time in nearly five years had brought meaning back into your life. it had been sealed when three months prior, you had seen on your television set that pablo escobar had finally died, killed and his body displayed for all to see in the polaroids that found there ways to the wrong place. one particular polaroid stood out to you, because staring back at you, smiling into the camera while holding up pablo's dead body by the sleeve of his shirt, was steve murphy. you couldn't exactly say you and steve murphy had ever held more than two minute conversation in the past, but seeing his face was more than enough to have you rushing to turn off the tv and placing your head in your hands as memories came flooding back like a tidal wave from hell, washing emotions of all different kinds over you. as if he were your guardian angel, it was by sheer coincidence that nearly 15 minutes into what you realized was nothing short of a minor breakdown, alex arrived for for weekly dinner, only to see you on the couch shaking and breathing rapidly. if somebody were to have seen the way in which he'd rushed to your aid, pulling you into his arms and rapidly asking you what was wrong with desperate panic lacing his voice, they'd be able to say that the strong emotional ties you'd developed to the boy were well and truly mutual. in the same way he'd opened up to you a year before, it was your turn to open up about your life prior to being his teacher. you'd kept a skillful veil up, hiding the parts of your life which you desperately wanted to remain unknown. so much so that almost nobody but your close family knew of your time in colombia, living in the middle of a drug war, and how you'd returned to the states in order to change that. you spared any all details about him, not even wanting speak his name as you told your story as if he hadn't existed in the first place, owing your sudden move from colombia to the sudden intensity of the drug war and how you feared for your life. you even showed in polaroids you'd kept in a journal, smiling softly through your slowing breaths and you pointed to a photo of you and your boss outside the bodega you'd worked at, both of you grinning. in an odd way, it felt weird looking back at photos of yourself when you were alex's age, especially considering the fact that it felt like barely any time had passed, when in reality, it had been 6 or 7 years since you'd left colombia at that stage. just as you were starting to calm down, alex turned the page, only to reveal a photo that made your heart sink to the ground as memories, just as they had previously, hit you like a speeding train. - "what are you doing." javi's deep voice broke the silence that had previously been looming in his lounge as he sat there nursing a cigarette in his mouth and intently reading a file, not bothering to look up at you as you stood up, reaching into your bag sitting beside the door. "nothing. hold still." you ordered, pulling your polaroid camera out of it's case as you pulled the strap over your head and rested it at your neck. he still didn't look up, doing as promised as you held the camera up to your eye, trying to angle the shot as best as you could, even with the orange light of the sunrise shone through the windows. it was only when the camera flashed that he finally looked up, not in alarm, but more so in amusement as you grinned, grabbing the polaroid as it zipped out of the small opening at the front. placing the camera and the polaroid down on the table, you sat beside javi, leaning your head against his shoulder and kissing his golden skin softly as he closed the file and threw it onto the table. - you weren't surprised when alex asked who the guy in the picture was, the one looking intently at a file while a cigarette hung from his mouth. you wouldn't have expected any less from alex, hell, you probably would have asked too. after nearly 7 years of being fine, not letting yourself be reminded of what you'd left behind and the reason you had to do so, and now, all it took was one news report and a polaroid to have you crashing back down. not able to reply for the first few seconds, only staring down at the photo before alex called you back into reality, asking if you were ok. of course your response was to take the photo album off of your hands and slam it closed, practically throwing it on the other end of the couch as if it were a hot plate, only to calmly take a breath, quietly informing alex that the man in the picture was 'nobody.' there was no doubt in your mind that alex didn't believe you, you could tell by the look on his face, you'd grown to be able to read his face like a children's book, always knowing if something was wrong or if he was lying about something. you hadn't even thought about the fact that he'd very likely grown to be able to read you in the same way. this was the same reason as to why he dropped the subject entirely, pressing it further wasn't going to help you and he knew that. that was the only slip up you'd had regarding your past, since then, you'd managed to keep your past fully concealed. even if it wasn't a particularly malicious secret, it was more so treated in the sense that it was not something you wanted to relive, and having had enough experience with the way gossip spreads in the teachers lounge, you knew you would never live it down should it get out. you would forever be known as the student teacher who had her heart broken so she fled colombia to avoid the shame. that wasn't who you wanted to be, you'd fled so that you could live a life without javier peña and you'd been doing so successfully. you were no longer the silly 22 year old girl who let her heart dictate her life and allow some stupid little man to ruin it all for her. you were a fucking career woman as far as you were concerned, there was no more room in your life for that anymore, and you were going to try your damnedest to keep it that way. no more will you allow yourself to fall to the whim's of a little girls failed attempt at playing house with somebody who couldn't even have the balls to admit you were nothing more than a booty call. - with nearly two more years passing, you were growing closer to finally getting your phD, you and alex had only grown closer, especially now that he was happily living with a girlfriend and had become manager at the bowling alley. though you still continued your weekly dinners, he was still your student after all. it was no more than a month after your 32nd birthday, standing by the counter in the teachers lounge, stirring the coffee in your mug, staring down as the dark brown colour faded to a light brown as you mixed your milk into it. already suffering from limited sleep due to the fact that your neighbours had decided to have yet another screaming match until the ungodly hour of 3:30 in the morning, you were dealing with forcing yourself to smile and nod along as your coworker was already talking your ear off. "so basically, i told him if he was going to talk to me like that, there was a perfectly good couch for him to sleep on tonight." she continued ranting about her on and off boyfriend, somehow unable to tell that you were barely paying attention, only just nodding on as she kept on going. she was nice, you could give her that, but it was once again just stark different between 25 and 32 that the two of you were stuck with. you hoped to god to weren't like that with the other teachers when you first started, but there was really no way to know for sure. admittedly, your lack of sleep was not only due to next doors argument, but also because you were already having trouble sleeping anyway. it was coming up to be 10 years since you'd left colombia, an anniversary that left you with so many mixed feelings, one part was a sickening feeling in your stomach as you remembered everything to do with the drug wars, bodies on the news and other horrifying things even to this day were in your dreams to haunt you. but then there was also the emotion and memories connected to colombia, hell, the reason you almost wanted to go back a year after escobar was killed, but stopped yourself just as you were looking up the prices of tickets, deciding it was best to quit while you were ahead. you couldn't say the beginning of your morning had been all bad. the moment it hit 7 am, your phone went off, only to see an unknown number, and when you answered, you had to stop yourself from tearing up when you heard the oh so familiar voice of your old boss greeting you with the ever classic "hola miha! long time no talk aye?" in an instant, it was as if you had never left, that you were 23 all over again and back in that crummy little bodega to sell cheap cigarettes and cans of baby formula that were far too expensive to connie. now completely in his early 70s, his nephew was now running the bodega, while he once again was keeping to his telenovela's, as per usual, explaining that he'd found your number after recognising your name in the phone book and deciding to give you a call. the two of you talked for at least a solid 45 minutes, ended with you promising you were going to call him again but that you had a class in 40 minutes and that you really needed to go. as if nothing had changed, he teased you about your teaching position, before wishing you all the best and hanging up. your old boss' call had brought a sad smile to your face, but all at once, had also brought a horrifying thought that invaded your head before you could even think. 'should you dare ask about him the next time you talk to your boss?' there was no doubt in your mind that he never went to that bodega again after you left. he wouldn't have been able to resist those cheap cigarettes. resisting the urge to slap yourself so as to not look like a manic should somebody walk in, you instead shook your head a bit and reminded yourself in your head of the promises you'd made to yourself years previously, reminding yourself that you were far, far better than this. even ten years later, you were better than the girl you were back in colombia. you deserved better. - having well and truly calmed yourself down, you left the teachers lounge and began the path down the winding hallways towards your classroom, you shoes clicking along the floor as you struggled to look for your keys under the big pile of files that you were holding in your hand. hearing footsteps behind you, you didn't look up from your bag as you quickly recognised the voice of your coworker behind you calling you by your last name, a form of teacher's lingo that you'd just grown to accept, already beginning to talk to you as you continued to walk up the stairs to the classroom. "i've got a guest speaker with me who spoke at my criminology lecture yesterday, and i was thinking they should speak for criminal psychology as well yknow? that could be real good for your students." only nodding your head, you reached the top of the stairs, still not turning around. "uh, yeah sure, they need a break from my lectures anyway, send them my way for this lesson." finally reaching your door, you found your keys and began to unlock the door, pushing it open and walking, only to be followed in by your coworker, who smiled brightly. "that's awesome, i think he's just getting a coffee last i saw him. you'll love him." nodding, you began to organise the files on your desk hurriedly, knowing that you were already running a bit behind due to your boss' phone call. "i'm sure we'll get along fine." you sighed, still not 100% paying attention to the conversation. "well i mean, your colombian right? yknow ca-" "i'm not colombian, i use to live there." ignoring the part about the fact that he'd somehow found out you had any sort of association with colombia, too tired and somewhat stressed to care right that second. "he was in colombia for awhile too, during the drug wars and stuff! he was a dea agent." in that very moment, it was as if time slowed down, your surroundings started to disappear and the files in your hands flowed out onto the desk, as if your hands faded out of existence. nothing in your mind was happening except pure, white hot panic. turning around slowly, trying to gather yourself, you took in a deep breathe. praying oh so desperately that it was anybody but who you were terrified that was. hell, at this point, you'd take steve murphy, just, please, please, please. don't let it be him. "what was his name.."

TAGLIST : @godohammers . @onelasttimee

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos fic #right place right time #right place. right time.#anutyjezzywrites #careerwoman #right place. right time. sequel #right place right time sequel #right place right time fic

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cthulhuliet · 3 years

Text

Scotty Doesn't Know

6.8k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, internalized homophobia, cheating

Light Yagami is the epitome of perfection: honor student, a popular kid, and an attentive boyfriend. But if L had learned one thing it is that pretty boys always lie, and he was about to be caught in a web of Light's biggest ones.

During his time at To-Oh university, L has learned 3 things. 1) never eat the spring onions in the dining hall. 2) people will like you if you carry gum and pencils in your bag. 3) pretty boys always lie.

That last one was a recent development though, something he added to his social checklist as his dark eyes stared back into Light Yagami pretty brown ones, specks of red flickering in the low light.

It was the first party L had ever been to. He didn’t stick out, but he was not exactly blending in. His bare feet dug into the plush carpeting at Misa Amane’s apartment. She was the one who invited him.

He would exactly call Misa and himself friends , just someone whom he was friendly towards. L did not do friends. Keeping people at arm's length-- staying alone-- that is how he stayed alive. It is a system he is not intending to change simply because a pretty girl treated him kindly and kissed him on the cheek when he agreed to come to her Friday night get-together. Though, L would be lying if the thought didn’t cross his mind.

L was not focused on Misa at the moment. L was staring back at the pretty boy who Misa was hanging off of, who had girls laughing even though he said nothing funny. Who commanded the attention of the whole room when he spoke, even though he really wasn’t saying anything at all, his words holding no real substance.

L first noticed Light in his forensics lectures. The boy always seemed to have a crowd around him, always seemed to impress his professors, and always seemed to have all the answers. It seemed as though no one could even bring themselves to hate him for it either, like most do with popular kids their age-- how could they when he was just so charming and pretty and so damn bright ?

He took it upon himself to observe Light (purely for curiosity's sake), watching the way he walks across campus, always studying under the same bench with just enough shade to be comfortable, how he politely listens as his girlfriend talks about photoshoot and modelling drama-- and L believed him to be just that. Just a hard working college student, a popular guy and an attentive boyfriend.

Though, staring back at Light, looking into his eyes, he sees the optical illusion that is Light Yagami. Taking him in at face value is easy-- it paints an attractive picture of the popular honors-student who seems to have his life all figured out. However, the thing about optical illusions is that one step back, one ripple or one tear in the picture ruins it and you see the image for what it is: a disconnected, imperceptible fantasy. That is what L saw in Light Yagami when he finally caught that pretty boy in a lie.

“I have no interest in doing anything with Ryuzaki,” Light shrugged; pretty, pretty brown eyes twinkling under the string lights around Misa’s apartment, “ ‘7 minutes in heaven’ would be more like ‘7 boring minutes spent in a closet’,” The group around him chuckled at his attempt at a joke. L is sure Light could be funny if he tried.

“Of course,” L hooked a finger into his mouth, “Besides, Light is not interested in men anyway, so what is the harm.”

Light’s eyes flashed with someone unknown, something scared, before nodding and standing up, “Exactly,” He kissed Misa on the cheek, and looked back at L before walking to the other side of the apartment. Misa gave L a once-over as he stood up, before softly sighing, pushing him toward the large broom closet, promptly shoving them in and closing the door.

The silence that followed in the closet was not exactly awkward or uncomfortable, but there was a lot unspoken that needed to be said. That optical illusion was wavering-- the edges becoming frayed as Light slowly breathed. Although L couldn’t really see it, he could feel Light’s eyes staring back at his silhouette.

“Misa and I have been dating for almost 2 years now,” Light opened with. It was only then that L realised this was their first one on one interaction.

“Congratulations.”

“You transferred here pretty recently, so you probably didn’t know that.”

“I did not.”

The two stood next to one another in silence for a while.

“I am not gay, you know.”

L blinked, “I didn’t think you were. You do have a girlfriend after all.”

“Yeah, I do.” More silence, followed by, “Are you gay?” This was a hushed whisper, rushed and nervous, like even talking about those homosexuals your mother warned you about was forbidden.

“What?”

“I know you heard me.”

L sighed, “I wouldn’t say that. Personally I have no preference. Men, women, whatever, it is all the same to me.”

“I see.”

More silence. L didn’t really know what to say, but luckily he didn’t have to think of anything, as Light stepped forward, cupping L’s cheeks and kissing him.

L was not sure how to react at first. His mind raced, wondering what the morality of messing around with a man who is clearly confused about his own identity is, and also breaking the trust of one of his colleagues, not to mention the ethics of cheating in of itself. But also Light’s lips tasted like the apple cinnamon chapstick he always carries with him, and he is pressing his chest against L’s and running his hands underneath his shirt, and it feels too damn good to stop.

L wrapped his arms around Light’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer and nipping his bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip forward into Light’s mouth. Light gasped at the action, whimpering and digging his nails into L’s hips. He knew that Light’s perfectly manicured nails would leave half-moon indents that were deep enough to last until the morning. This made L smile.

He kissed Light’s cheek and then kissed all the way down his jaw. L peppered kisses along Light’s neck, the other man gasping and biting his knuckle. L moved his hands under Light’s shirt, and ran his fingernails down his back, Light harshly biting his hand to stifle a guttural moan.

L pulled away, and he could see Light’s eyes at this distance. He expected him to look confused, or ashamed, or angry, but he mostly just looked horny.

“The others are going to come get us soon.” L explained in a low voice. Light nodded, and began fixing his hair, breathing steadily to remove the flushness on his face.

“Ryuzaki?”

“Yes?”

“Can this be… Just… Don’t tell anyone about this, ok?” Light’s voice was a bit cold a stiled, and L held back a chuckle.

“Of course, Light.”

≠

Lately, L has spent most of his free time kissing Light in private. Sometimes at night when everyone had already left the library, sometimes on the roof of the science building, sometimes in the backseat of L’s car. Light seemed to really like kissing in the backseat of L’s car. Maybe it was the way the plush velvet seats folded down, or the way the windows were tinted so dark it felt almost illegal to drive, or maybe he liked how L always has shitty 80’s pop playing at a low volume. L wasn’t sure, but it was almost like clockwork to kiss for hours on end in the secluded forested part of the college town.

L was sitting on Light’s lap, the younger man writhing and gasping underneath him, gripping harshly at the back of L’s shirt. A thin sheen of sweat coated Light’s forehead, and L ran his nails up and down Light’s sides as he nipped at his earlobe, making him gasp. L found that Light got easily worked up from even the most subtle of action. He was very sensitive.

L worked at the buttons on the front of Light’s shirt, slowly unclasping them, “Light, have you come to enjoy kissing me?”

“Y-yeah, you’re really good at this, of course I do Ryuzaki.”

L hummed, fully unbuttoning Light’s shirt, but not wanting to take it off him yet. Light looked really good in black. He instead pulled a lever to push the seats down, pressing on Light’s chest to guide him onto his back. L kissed up Light’s chest, restraining himself from biting into the pretty tan skin. L licked a small stripe over Light’s chest, grazing his nipple with his tongue to see his reaction.

Light back arched and he gasped out L’s name, and ran a hand through his hair. L kissed his right nipple and slowly licked the nub, grazing his teeth softly over it, hoping to draw out more gasps and whines from Light.

“What about this, Light?” L asked in a low voice, still teasing him with his thumb and forefinger, smirking up at him.

Light nodded, panting, “Yes, yeah… That feels great.”

“Has Misa ever touched you here?” L asked. He felt Light stiffen, even just for a moment. There was an unspoken agreement that they never brought up Light’s girlfriend, or maybe Light just never expected L to. Light did not respond, so L attached himself to Light’s other nipple, sucking on it while still teasing the other one. Light moaned loudly, now stifling his noises by hooking his fingers in his mouth. L pulled off of Light, a string of saliva dripped from L’s mouth, “Light? Answer me?”

“No, no she hasn’t.”

“Hmm,” L hummed, running his blunt fingernails up and down his sides like he knows he enjoys, “Has any girlfriend ever given you this treatment?” Light bit his lip and shook his head. L nodded, and his fingertips teased the edges of Light’s pants, “Does Light want me to touch him in more places today?”

The two had not done more than kissing and biting with wandering hands. L didn’t mind. He would never describe himself as a patient man but rushing anything like this would surely be heading for disaster. Light looked down at him with wide brown eyes, and the innocence of his gaze almost put the optical illusion back in place for him, but then he remembered where he was: touching and teasing perfect Light Yagami, who is obviously not the person everyone sees. That illusion quickly broke as Light gasped out a “please”, moving his own hands to unzip his jeans.

L slapped his hand away, shaking his head at him. “I am doing this part, do I need to make you keep your hands to yourself?”

There was a dangerous glint in his eye, one that L had not seen before from him. Light hummed, “Hmm, you might. I don’t know.” And this was Light playing rough, not stupid. L did not think Light could be dumb, even if he tried. Internalized shame and heavy amounts of guilt prevented Light from being as much of a tease as he could be, though L knows he is more than capable. Two can play at that.

L moved up Light’s body, capturing his lips with his. He bit down on Light’s bottom lip, causing the younger man to gasp and allowed for L to tangle his tongue with Light’s. Simultaneously, he grabbed Light’s tie and pinned his hands together, doing a simple knot around his wrists above his head.

L pulled away, smirking. Light’s eyes were wide and watery, certainly not expecting L to call his bluff. If Light did have any experience with bondage of any sort, he cannot imagine it was the man himself who was getting tied down and taken care of. The clean-cut honors student types always want to be taken care of, didn’t they? Being in control and in charge of everything in their life, just needing someone else to take the reins for once.

Finally, L was able to undo Light’s pants, pulling them off and throwing them to the front seat. He palmed Light through his boxers, his cock was already fully hard and straining against the fabric. The car was nothing but quiet with Light’s gasps and moans, and L almost let it keep going on, because he is sure that Light’s begging would be simply heavenly.

He pulled Light boxers off, giving them the same treatment as his slacks. Light bit his lip as the cool air hit his cock. L pressed his thumb to his lips and slowly traced a finger up and down his shaft, fingertips barely ghosting over him. Light made an undignified whine and L smirked slightly. Maybe he did want to hear him beg.

"Ryuzaki…” Light said, possibly in an attempt to sound commanding, but his voice was so fucked out it came across as a needy moan.

“Being tied up like this, defiled by another boy… It shouldn’t make you this happy, should it, Light?”

“ Ryuzaki… ”

L teased the head of his cock with his thumb, “What would people think if they saw you like this? With me?” He hummed, Light gasped as L slowly stroked him, “What would your classmates say? Your friends? Misa?” He stressed.

“Oh God…”

L picked up his movements, “Do you think they would be shocked? Horrified? Perfect Light Yagami tangled up in the sheets with Ryuzaki?” He chuckled to himself, Light holding back his moans, “I personally am not surprised. Right now, all I see is a contented slut getting what he deserves.”

“Ryuz- Ryuzaki please , please give me what I deserve... I need it, please …”

And Light’s begging was all it took. L took all of Light in his mouth, deep-throating him and letting the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. It only took a few more seconds before Light was crying out his name and coming down Ryuzaki’s throat.

L pulled off of Light and looked up at him, the other man’s cheeks were flushed and his face completely blissed out. L leaned forward and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, Light returned it happily.

“Hey…” Light started, quietly, “I know you were just saying it… But… You won’t actually…”

L shook his head, “This all stays between us, remember?”

Pretty boys always lie…

≠

L and Light had graduated from messy blowjobs in the back of L’s towncar to L practically folding Light in half and fucking him on the plush sheets in his apartment. L does not exactly know what Light tells Misa if she asks why he is spending almost 5 days a week at L’s apartment, he doesn’t bother, it is not his relationship.

It is not everyday that L pins Light against the mattress right when they get back, now preferring to let things build up slowly. In fact, for the past 6 months they have been doing this, they do their work in silence across L’s dining room table, or sit on the couch and just talk. Talk about their classes, their ideas, their goals. L didn’t think he would ever get tired of listening to Light talk. Just like he did not think he would ever get tired of pressing into Light, hearing the other man moan under him.

L currently had Light’s hands bound to the headboard; his long, athletic legs were hooked over L’s shoulder’s as L slowly pushed deep into Light.

“M-more Ryuzaki… Fuck … more…”

L tsked and shook his head, “My my, Light, where are you manners,” He punctuated his statement with one quick thrust into Light, perfectly hitting his prostate, causing him to cry out and moan, “Ask politely.”

Light writhes under him, thrashing at the headboard which had his hands tied, “Go to hell, Ryuzaki…” He whined.

In response, L yanked his hair, and licked a stripe up Light’s neck. He nibbled on Light’s ear lobe, knowing how much he liked it. He ran his hands up his thighs, and gave him a swift but stinging smack, Light groaning at the harsh contact. L often closed his eyes and imagined how pretty Light would look covered in bruises and love bites-- being able to mark him up and claim Light Yagami as his . It was an attractive picture, one he did his best to keep at a distance. “Don’t make this difficult Light, just ask politely…” Which they both knew was another way of saying ‘beg for it’.

“Go faster Ryuzaki… Please…” Light gasped out, and L snickered, speeding up his thrusts.

“See, now was that so ha-” He was cut off by Light’s phone ringing. L reached into his discarded pants and pulled out his phone, gripping the top of it with his thumb and forefinger, “It is Misa.” He says.

Light groans, shaking his head, “Just let it ring, I will call her back after this.”

A wicked smile spreads across L’s face, looking at the caller id and Light’s hands still tied to the bed. Light cocks an eyebrow.

“I hope you have learned to control your noises, Light.” L tells him. Before he can ask any questions, L flips open the phone and presses talk, holding the phone against Light’s ear.

“Hi sweetie!” Misa’s voice came through over the phone, L close enough to be able to hear her, littering kisses across Light’s collarbone and moving his hips painfully slowly, in and out of Light.

“H-hi baby, how are you doing?” Light panted out, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I am doing good! I am glad you picked up, it has been so long since I heard your voice,” There was a considerable amount of background noise on Misa’s end, a busy shopping mall or possibly a photoshoot set. L took that into consideration, now very pointedly moving, angling his cock to merely brush against Light’s prostate. The younger man was squirming underneath him-- this kind of edging would be punishing enough typically; with his girlfriend on the phone it made it simply torturous.

“Ah- Yeah, sorry I have been so preoccupied lately, I promise I will make time just for us soon.” Light’s voice was obviously stilted and strained, but L was counting on the noises from wherever Misa was to distract from that fact (he is sure Light is counting on that too). L pressed kisses along Light’s neck up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe that wasn’t currently occupied with the phone conversation.

“What exactly has kept you so preoccupied, Light?” L whispered in his ear, knowing how much Light liked the soothing sound of his low voice, “Or more accurately who has been getting your attention?” L could hear Misa talking, but he wasn’t exactly trying to make out what she was saying, “Go on and tell her. Tell her what we have been up to. Tell Misa what a good slut you have been for me, I know how much you like to hear it.”

Light eyes were welling up at praise and degradation dripped over him like honey. The dual sensations of L fucking him and using his one free hand to tease his nipples is enough to have anyone panting. But he had to keep his breathing even, doing his best to not moan as his girlfriend tells him about the modelling shoot she is currently on a short break at. He was relatively stable, that was until L moved his hand lower, teasing the head of his cock, clearly not satisfied with how well the other man was showing restraint. L couldn’t help but smile when Light gasped once he touched him. He could faintly hear Misa pause, asking him what was wrong.

“Oh dear, Light,” L teased, Light was now biting his lip so hard he was fearing he would break the skin, “Are you ready for your girlfriend to finally find out what a filthy fucking whore you are?”

Light shook his head, answering Misa and doing his best to ignore L. “Ah, sorry baby, I just looked at my phone battery, I am going to die soon. J-just text me when you wrap up, ok?”

“Oh, ok! Talk to you later, then, love you sweetie!”

“Y-yeah, you too.” L snapped the phone closed with a ‘clack’ and threw it across the room. Light let out a guttural moan, frustrated tears ran down his cheeks.

“Light? Are you o-”

“Fuck me Ryuzaki, please please, dear Lord I need this.” Light’s voice was broken and needy-- a man who was kept on the edge for far too long.

“I hope I didn’t go too far.” L stood on his knees, lifting Light’s hips up. Previously restraint was gone, L’s hips snapped roughly into Light, he didn’t think that he could hold himself back if he tried.

Light was extremely receptive to the violent pace, gasping and whining, already so far gone.

“ There! Keeping going, fuck … I am so close, please.” Light begged, his eyes screwed shut and he pulled at the restraints, moaning. “What you did was fucking insane, Ryuzaki, but fuck I had never been so turned on in my fucking life.” He gave a weak chuckle, “Maybe I am a filthy slut like you say.”

L nodded, gripping tightly on Light’s hips, only half-worried about his fingertips leaving bruises for later, “It is about time you listened to me, Light.”

“Did I do good?” Light asked. His voice was broken and wrecked, and God, it was so good to listen to. “Was I a good slut, Ryuzaki?”

L nodded, feeling himself getting close as well, “You were a good boy, yes Light, a perfect whore. A perfect fucking slut for me.”

“ Ahh! Yes, fuck yes… A good slut for you, your good slut-- all yours .” Light came with L’s name on his lips, the other man following shortly after. A few chaste kisses followed as they both came down, and L ignored the twisting feeling in his gut.

≠

L hated parties. He hated birthday parties even more. Something about the idea of an adult expecting gifts and attention simply for existing is something that seems childish and trival. Especially when that adult is Misa Amane, who rented out a banquet all for her party. L doesn’t hate Misa, he doesn’t. Though, he couldn’t help the self satisfied smirk that creeped onto his face, coupled with an immoral sense of superiority when Light dragged him away to a secluded pantry on the other side of the venue.

“Mmm, someone is needy,” L muttered, pulling the lapels on Light’s blazer closer to him for a needy kiss, “Glad you are giving the birthday boy special treatment.”

“Shut up.” Light muttered, kissing L like he means it, greedy and desperate.

The two grind against one another, the closed space and limited time not offering as many options as typical-- it brought back a similar feeling of way back in the early days of their correspondence where they would kiss in the dark stacks of the library; L still trying to figure out what makes Light squirm, and Light still barely comfortable enough to put his hands on L’s waist.

Oh how fast the night changes he thinks idly to himself as Light pulls on his messy waves, exposing the alabaster expanse of his neck and latched himself onto it as he has seen L do many times, though he actually gets to feel Light’s teeth sink into him and admire the purple against white the next day.

L quickly undoes Light’s belt and slacks, pulling them off with his boxers, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before the hostess of the party figures out her “guest of honor” has been missing for several minutes. Following the pants, L drops to his knees, taking Light’s cock in his mouth all at once. Light tangles his hands in L’s hair, slowly but steadily fucking his mouth.

“We have a limited amount of time, you realize?” L pulled away, and Light groaned at the loss of contact.

Light shook his head, “I don’t think anyone is going to come looking for me.”

L slowly stroked him, thumb rubbing over the slit of his head, causing Light to bite his lip through a moan, his back hitting the wall behind him. L looked up at him, eyes impossibly wide, “I think you misjudge how strongly Ms. Amane’s infatuation with you is.”

Light didn’t respond to that, so L took the head of Light’s cock in his mouth, the man biting down on two knuckles to stifle his noises. L knew he was getting close, after almost a year of this affair, L knew exactly what to do to get Light to tremble and squirm and just how far to push until he is over the edge.

His orgasm rips through him, Light gripping tightly onto L’s hair, making him moan around Light’s cock. He wipes his mouth with one of the cocktail napkins placed neatly on the shelves. He gingerly took Light’s hand as he helped him off the floor, pulling L in for another messy kiss.

Light drew his nails down L’s back, now panting into his mouth, but the two quickly jumped apart when they heard the click of heels making their way down the adjacent hall.

“Light? Are you down here?”

The two froze and looked at one another. “Misa,” Light mouthed, and L rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t warn Light of this exact situation previously.

“Come on.” L quickly pulled Light out of the pantry, walking him towards the bathrooms directly on the other end of the hall before she rounded the corner spotting them, “Tell her you were seeing me off and I had to leave early, and you stopped by the restrooms before you came back. Also…” He pulled a small wrapped object out of the back of his pocket. It was long but thin, containing a rose gold gemmed bracelet. “It is a bracelet. It will distract her from any questions that she has.”

“Ryuzaki I-”

L shook his head, running a hand under the water of one of the bathroom sinks and fixed Light’s mussed and imperfect hair, “Don’t. I’ll be fine.” This only works if you keep lying. C’mon Light, where is the illusion? “Go. Do what needs to be done.”

L shoved Light out of the bathroom, just in time too, for he ran into his girlfriend. He listened to their idle voices from the bathroom and felt a wave of bittersweet joy from Misa’s elation at the gift. He stayed until their voices disappeared and snuck out the exit near the back. He always did hate birthday parties.

≠

It was around 2am when L heard the knocking on his door. Confused and apprehensive, he opened the door to see a disheveled and tired Light on the other side. His eyes were rimmed red with dark circles underneath them. L wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him in such a state.

“Light? What are you doing here? Are you ok-” L’s concerns were cut off by Light cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Not the passionate and needy type that he is used to, but raw and emotional. He wrapped his arms around L’s neck and held onto him like his lifeline.

L did not disconnect from his lips, instead leading them both to his bed. It was still neatly made (it being essentially unused since the last time Light was over) but he pulled back the duvet and crawled under it, Light following close behind.

L held Light for a long time, running his fingers through his perfect brown hair and offering light kisses. A few rare moments of silence passed, and Light’s breathing became a lot more steady and the touches less needy.

“It is much past the time you are typically asleep. What on Earth are you doing here? This isn’t like you.” L muttered lowly in Light’s ear.

Light huffed, “I apologise for not fitting your perfect honor student archetype.”

“That is not what I mean. I am not talking about perfect, clean-cut college senior Light.”

“Wha- but that is me.”

L shifted slightly, pressing a thumb to his lips, “On the surface, sure. You are the definition of sublimity and much sharper than those around you. Not to say you are not that, but there is much more to it. Despite being one of the top students in Japan, you do not care as much as people think you do, and you obviously have secrets of your own. Do not try to play coy with me, Light, I greatly dislike being belittled.”

Light was silent for a while, tracing nondescript patterns along L’s chest, “I thought that I was the number one student in Japan.”

L stifled a laugh, “One of us here is.”

“I have never even seen your name on the national rankings.”

“You have never seen Ryuzaki on the national rankings. Though I am sure you were around when Hideki Ryuga made an appearance.”

Light was silent for a moment before shaking his head, “I thought for a while now that Ryuzaki was an alias.” L hummed in response squeezing Light softly and pressing a kiss atop his head, “So, what is your true name?”

“I cannot tell you that, Light.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

Light pulled away from L’s arms and sat up, “That isn’t fair. I have been nothing but honest about myself with you, and you can’t share one stupid thing with me?”

“You still don’t get it…” L muttered to himself, sitting up and pulling his legs close to his chest.

“Get what?” Light spat out.

L sighed, “I cannot be fully honest with you until you are honest with yourself.”

Light opened his mouth and closed it again-- a brief moment of confusion before the anger took its place, “What does that mean?”

“What is it you truly desire of me, Light? How long are you going to conform to the expectations you created for yourself.” L��s voice was not angry or frustrated or even disappointed. He just sounded sad, “You are graduating college and Ms. Amane’s career is in full swing now. With how many years you have together she is going to be expecting marriage and a family soon. And then what? How much longer must you keep lying to her, to your family, to-- you know, forget all them. How much longer can you lie to yourself about what you really want? When will your self imposed expectations that you curated supersede who you really are?” Light stayed silent, his body was stiff and his eyes glassy. L sighed, “You may stay here tonight, of course. I will hold you and kiss you and love you tonight. But after that, I need to take your time to think about what exactly you are doing, and talk to me when you figure it out. You’re not the only one who is affected by your actions.”

He left the rest unspoken. Not saying he wanted to hold onto Light forever, finally call him his, and not put an ultimatum on their love. But it was too painful to say the rest out loud.

L held Light and stroked his hair as he fell asleep. L tried to fight off his own exhaustion, but his eyes eventually closed and he drifted off as well. He woke up the next morning cold and in an empty bed.

≠

It has been about three months since L and Light had seen one another. That’s fine. L doesn’t need anyone. Staying alone is how he stays alive. He goes through his school work faster than ever, senior finals quickly approaching for him, though he has no doubt that he could manage without trying. That doesn’t stop him from doing so for whatever reason. He just needs to keep busy.

L was editing an essay when his phone rang, Misa Amane’s contact name appearing. L stared at the phone for several seconds, weighing his options. He eventually snatched the phone and flipped it open, “Yes?” He dumped all the sugar cubes from his bowl onto the table, idly stacking them.

“Hi, Ryuzaki, sorry to call you this late-” L glanced at the clock, just past midnight, “But I was just wondering if Light was with you.”

L paused, and bit his lip, “No, actually. I have not seen Light for about 3 months now.”

There was silence on the other end of the call, L could only hear static on the other end. He made his tower about 6 cubes high before Misa spoke, “3 months? You haven’t heard from him for 3 months? He said he was going to talk to you ages ago. I am worried about him, Ryuzaki.”

“What seems to be your cause for concern?”

Misa sighed, “I broke up with Light about 2 weeks ago,” L knocked over his cube tower, sending sugar crystals careening over his laptop. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing at this point or not, his heart was beating so slowly… Or fast? L couldn’t for the life of him tell, “He said that he was going to talk to you shortly after I ended things, but I hadn’t heard from him or seen from him, and now you have no idea what's going on, and oh God, what if he is dead or killed himself I don-”

“Misa?”

“Yes?”

“Please calm down for me, ok?” L hooked a finger in his mouth, trying to keep his voice level for Misa’s sake, “I am concerned for Light as you are. I just need you to answer me some questions and I should be able to figure out where he may be.”

“You don’t think he is dead?” Misa choked out.

“I say there is only 2.5% Light is dead, and that would be due to forces outside of the situation. Light is strong, he would never try to kill himself.”

“I- I know this Ryuzaki, I am sorry.”

“Never apologise for your feelings, Misa.” L dragged his finger across his desk and licked the sugar off of his finger. “What was the last thing you two talked about?”

Misa’s voice was quiet, but self assured, “We haven’t talked since I ended things. After that, he hasn’t been in class or on campus.”

“You did break up with him, surely he doesn’t want a lot of interaction with others right now.”

Misa huffed, “No, that can’t be it. I broke up with Light for his own good.”

L nervously bit at the skin around his nails, “If I may pry, what is the reasoning for the termination of your relationship.”

“I was afraid you would ask that…” Misa sighed, clearly debating what she wanted to say. L moved the mouse on his computers and idly scrolled through the essay he was editing, needing something to distract him, even if he was not processing any of the words being read on screen, “This is what Light was supposed to talk to you about but... I ended things because he… Ryuzaki, he is in love with you.” L bit down on his thumb. Hard. The metallic taste of blood was the only thing that was keeping him from passing out. “When we started our relationship 3 years ago, I knew he didn’t love me like I loved him, but I figured he would be able to learn to, right? But, something changed once he met you… He was smiling more and happier, but also distant and confused and pensive. I think he has been wrestling with this for a while, and it is unfair to myself, Light, or you to continue a relationship that no one is happy with.”

“Misa, I-”

“I am sure you are also a bit shocked about this turn of events as well… Or maybe not, I don’t know how much you suspected, but Ryuzaki I-” She sighed, sniffling slightly. L popped a sugar cube in his mouth. If Misa was about to start crying he needed all the glucose support he could get, “I was really mad at you at first. I hated you. But now I realise I should thank you. I was settling for someone who never really gave me their all, or really wanted me for me. I settled, and so did Light. We both deserve better. He wants you, and if you want him, let him know.”

“Did you tell Light all this as well?”

“Yea, it was the last thing we talked about.”

L chewed on his lip, “I think I know where he is.”

≠

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

Light turned around, L smirking softly behind him, the chilly wind musing his hair and chilling his bare feet. Light sighed, standing up from the collection of boulders he was on, facing L. He tugged his jacket closer around himself, “How did you find me here?”

“Cameras everywhere.” L idly pointed around, and Light simply raised an eyebrow, “Misa called me, told me what happened. I was able to figure out the rest”

Light nodded, sitting back down, but facing L still, “I see.” He looked at Light a little more. His state and appearance were worse than when he saw L 3 months ago, though it was clear he was trying to hide it. His pretty tan skin was sickly and shallow and his eyes were hollow. The illusion of perfect Light Yagami wasn’t just gone, it was ripped to pieces and set on fire.

“Can I sit?” L asked, and Light made a small gesture with his hand. L crouched next to him, placing his hands atop his knees but remaining a good distance away from Light. He looked around at the forest. The very same place he and Light kissed his car, nearly everyday after classes for many months. They both had become very familiar with the area, though the tension in the air is palpable and unlike what L was used to. It reminded him of the closet incident a year ago. Nerves alight in both men, having no idea what action to take next.

“You look good.” Light said. L held back a chuckle, he looks like he always does and he knows it.

“You look tired, Light.”

“I am tired.” He responds simply. They stay silent for a few moments. L has so much he wants to ask, but this was Light’s conversation to lead, “I have been so stupid.” Light starts. He places his head in his hands, and runs his fingers through his hair, “I told myself the loneliness would go away with time. It didn’t, but I kept ignoring it. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and…” Light sighed, “No one has ever been that honest with me. They tell me I am perfect and good, so I thought this hollowness that I have felt ever since I was a child was normal. And then.... Then you came along telling me things could be better, and it could go away and I… I was scared.”

“Why?”

“Even if it is a bad feeling, it is terrifying to think of life without it.”

L nodded, pressing his thumb to his lips, “You would have ignored it forever if Misa hadn’t broken up with you.”

Light chuckled weakly, shaking his head, “Yeah, I probably would have.”

“Did you tell her, Light?”

He shook his head, “Misa doesn’t know. Maybe one day, I will tell her. Right now… She is being incredibly selfless, and I have been incredibly selfish, I didn’t want to add to that.”

“You realize that withholding the truth from her is, in of itself, a selfish action right?” Light gave him a pointed look and L just sighed, “So, why here then?”

Light looked pensively up at the stars, leaning back on his palms. Even with exhaustion and stress seeping through his body, he was still so beautiful, “The simplest way to put it is… Is I missed you. And I didn’t know what to do. I felt like running and hiding and lying was the easiest way to deal with my feelings, but it is too painful to do that, and acting like such a coward is killing me. And now you are here, and I don’t know what to do.”

L pondered this for a moment, “Well, you could come over here and kiss me.”

Light looked at him, eyes wide, “Is that ok?”

Chuckling, L shook his head, “You were not this hesitant and asking for permission the first time.”

He moved closer to L, caressing his cheek. Light ran a hand through L’s hair and softly pressed his lips against L’s. It wasn’t a symphony or a matching puzzle piece or the final brushstroke of a beautiful painting. It just felt so right after so long, and L could finally exhale.

“I am lucky to have you back, Light Yagami.” He kissed Light’s forehead.

Light smiled. Despite the fatigue still present, that familiar glow that Light always gleamed was returning, “Do I finally get a name for you now?”

“As long as I can call you mine,” He softly kissed Light’s cheek, “You can call me L.”

#death note #lawlight #l lawliet #light yagami #the people were furious with me about my last fic being so sad #so fine have the smutty AU goodness #I also have officially Run Out Of Ideas #kind of #run out of one shot ideas for like simple smut fics #starting a big project is spooky but I really want to and I will #anyways enjoy !#my writing

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lovelylogans · 3 years

Text

the warmest hello (to the coldest goodbye)

once a spy, always a spy forever, forever the warmest hello to the coldest goodbye remember, remember -spies are forever, the tin can bros

warnings: undercover spy work, mention of weapons, drugging someone into unconsciousness/giving someone a roofie, essentially the start of an enemies to lovers fanfiction

pairings: virgil/logan, offscreen roman/patton

words: 4,465

notes: this is for day 7 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “free day” and i have decided to write a combination soulmates and rival spies au! please enjoy!

⁂

Not that Virgil would admit it, but, like literally every other marked person, he's tried to imagine how he might meet his soulmate. He just didn't ever spare any thought on what he'd do if it happened on the job.

His official cover to his friends (which was mostly his cousin Roman and Roman’s husband Patton) was that he was an analyst—he was always vague about what exactly it was he analyzed, but since neither of them were particularly mathematically inclined, and both were maybe a bit too trusting for their own good, they took him at his word.

Even when he was sent off on various unusual "business trips.”

It’s not like Virgil’s mark is very specific about when and where it’ll happen. Virgil knows that variations of "sorry about that” make for a large percentage of common soulmarks.

There’s protocols in place, of course, but Virgil had never really paid attention to those classes while training to be a spy. The Lewis clause is the kind of thing Virgil didn’t pay as much attention to, because it didn’t seem as useful as understanding the technology or how to make a cover. The Lewis clause is what to do when someone meets a soulmate on the job—there are specifications for if the soulmate is a target, a team member, or an enemy.

Virgil hadn’t really cared at the time. He’d kick himself for that later.

Any number of meetings occurred accidentally—knocking something over, bumping into someone, or, like his cousin Roman's soulmate did, take Roman's coffee thinking it was his own hot chocolate. They got married two winters ago, just so they could serve hot beverages in cold weather.

He thinks the iteration stamped in black along his left inner arm, "I'm very sorry about this," with the addition of "oh no, it's you” tacked on at the end of his makes it likely that whatever he says will, A, likely be first, B, be somewhat unique, or unique enough to be immediately recognizable, and C, be in the aftermath of some kind of accident.

He ends up being partially right. What he says is first and it is somewhat unique. What his soulmate apologizes for is no accident, though.

Virgil does undercover work, sure, but it's very rare for him to enter the James Bond style locale he's at today, and that he’s been working for the past couple months; the marble ballroom he's circling is dripping with gold chandeliers and matching heavy, velvet curtains that accent the floor-to-ceiling windows. There’s a string quartet in the corner, barely audible over the chatter of rich socialites. Virgil, deeply uncomfortable in his white-tie attire, is circling the room in an attempt at looking like he attends charity balls all the time.

He sucks at it.

As if on cue, his earpiece crackles to life.

"How the fuck did you ever qualify to be a spy?" Janus, his tech man and eye in the sky, snickers into his ear. "Your acting skills are horrendous. If you auditioned for The Room right now, they wouldn't let you into the cast.”

"Fuck off,” Virgil fake-coughs into his shoulder.

"Christ, at least try to look like you're mingling, not like you've stalked the target here."

Unable to stop himself, he glances toward the target he's meant to be watching.

The target, who is so staggeringly wealthy it could make Virgil, who is trying to pay off his student debt on a spy's salary (not as high as one might think) burst into tears. Or, much more likely, start ranting about the myriad flaws of capitalism. If so inclined, he could honestly probably steal the amount of money necessary from one of her offshore accounts, and it would be as unnoticeable as someone taking a penny from him.

Mary Lee Truman is standing amidst a flock of suited men, like a dove amidst a flock of dour crows; her dress is slinky silk, a shade of champagne that glimmers rose-gold in the right shade of light. She’s standing leaned to one side, her hip popped out and an arm crossed over her stomach, a crystal-cut champagne flute dangling in her fingers as if she was born to hold one.

Her husband, Lee Truman (fuck if that wasn’t confusing, it was really easier to think of them by their codenames) is off by the bar, seemingly getting himself another drink.

His eyes stray to Mary Lee again; he can tell a couple of the suits are hired muscle, bodyguards, which makes sense, as the Trumans are allegedly a massive crime family, doing their dirty dealings in plain sight. A couple of the suits he recognizes from dossiers; one is a business partner of Lee’s father, who might not even know what the Truman family really gets up to; one absolutely knows what the Truman family gets up to, as Virgil’s read his rap sheet and knows he’s been in and out of jail due to his assignments from the mob.

There’s one suit there that really doesn’t seem to fit the mold of either category.

For one thing, he’s around Virgil’s age; for another, he isn’t rippling with muscle. Not that he doesn’t look fit; his well-tailored suit shows off his broad shoulders, his biceps, his lean waist. He’s dark-haired, and pale, and blue-eyed, and he’s standing next to Mary Lee with a look that Virgil would think of as dour, but now that he’s looking closely, the blue-eyed man looks almost... calculating.

This man wasn’t in the dossier.

Almost everyone at this ball was in the dossier.

Virgil looks away from Mary Lee and the handsome man, and instead decides to start taking up Janus’ advice; he slowly moves through the room.

Well. He's doing it to get closer to Mary Lee, but sure, he can attempt to mingle.

He traverses through the room, his fancy shoes clicking on the marble floor, mindful to not step on any dress hems—he has it easy, as his directive was simply to wear his white tie with his hidden weapons, his ear piece, and his lapel pin that records everything he's seeing. The women in the room provide the only splashes of color outside of the black suits and white shirts of the men, the gleaming marble, the gold- accented glasses and dishware. Even what little art he's seen follows that color theme -- white marble busts, abstract black and white paintings in their gilded frames, a gold statue outside the front steps, as if to greet the partygoers.

But the women of the party aren't beholden to this strict color scheme. Gowns of pink chiffon, red lace, blue taffeta, deep violet velvet, Virgil passes them all, keeping one eye out for rose gold silk.

He ends up instituting himself in a ring of people listening intently to an art history professor talking about the architectural significance of his building—he introduces himself with his cover name, James Walker, to the man next to him, who Virgil already knows is a Truman cousin. He gives a fake first name too—he says his name is Alex, when Virgil knows it’s really Bruce. Okay. Something to take note of.

He listens to the art history professor talk about art deco with just one ear, the other straining to eavesdrop on Mary Lee and her suits.

“Do you think our beneficiary approaches?” Mary Lee murmurs to the blue-eyed one, the one that wasn’t in the dossier.

“Oh, I know he does,” the blue-eyed man says to her. He has a pleasant British accent, the kind of voice that would be right at home on a nature documentary calmly narrating the eating habits of wolverines, or something like that. “According to all my research, our previous beneficiary is no longer within our purview. A new one will have been instilled in hasty time. As a matter of fact, I believe I would be able to point him out to you right now.”

Mary Lee sighs, a little, and the man continues talking about their charity. Virgil’s mind races. He knows the Truman’s “charity work” almost always acts as a sieve to run dirty money through, so what would it mean, that they got a new beneficiary? A new target, maybe? A new directive?

Either way, this is almost definitely some kind of code they’re talking in. He tunes a bit more into the art history professor’s impromptu lecture—he’s taking a brief tangent into talking about Tamara de Lempicka—as he ruminates on that particular conversation between the blue-eyed Brit and Mary Lee.

Then he ends up in conversation with an elderly woman beside him, who wants to know who he is—James Walker, I run a business a state or two over, I’m interested in diversifying my assets—and if he’s been to any art museums in town. Both he and the man he is meant to be have not, but it turns out she’s a curator and has numerous suggestions for him.

He also knows this woman, Ida Kelly, has been paying into the Truman business for quite some time, and has potentially ordered hits using the Truman’s muscle.

“Madam,” a suited waiter shows up at her side, as if on cue, and hands her a small glass full of what looks like a gin-and-tonic.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” she says, taking her drink immediately.

The waiter turns to him. There is a singular champagne flute on the tray. “Sir.”

“I didn’t order anything,” Virgil says stupidly, before he realizes that almost everyone here is taking champagne flutes off of trays, and he supposes this waiter just wants to clear his before he has to double back and get more. “Oh, all right.”

He takes it. It’s a delicate, crystal-cut glass. He’s almost a little afraid that if he holds it wrong, it’ll break.

“Really, we’re doing an Impressionism exhibit, and it is positively divine,” she says.

Very suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, emanating warmth through his suit and Virgil jumps, a little—he hopes whoever it is didn’t feel one his knives. Or, God forbid, his gun.

He turns to see no one, when a hand touches his opposite arm, and he turns again. It turns out to be the blue-eyed Brit, who is staring only at Ida, brushing past him, allowing his hand to trail down Virgil’s arm, touching his hand as if to say, please stay there, I do not want to bump into you.

At such a close range, Virgil can smell his absolutely incredible cologne, see his defined jawline, the way his blue eyes gleam.

Ida brightens. “Darling!”

“Ida,” the Brit says warmly. “I visited that display myself, it was simply wonderful.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” she says, clearly drinking up the praise. Virgil looks between them, feeling even more awkward than he has all night.

“Wait a goddamned minute,” Janus murmurs in his ear, after such a long stretch of silence that it makes Virgil jump again. There’s the sound of rapid typing.

“A victory!” The man says, lifting his glass—it looks to be full of whiskey. “A toast, to your latest triumph.”

“Oh, now,” she says, but when the other surrounding suits start lifting their glasses, Virgil lifts his, as well.

“To Ida Kelly,” the Brit says. “One of the finest artistic minds to walk the earth at our time!”

Virgil takes a sip of his champagne at the same time as everyone else; another woman in a deep green gown with a shawl edged in feathers takes Ida’s arm, rhapsodizing about the Impressionism movement and the latest event that her art gallery had put on.

It takes about a minute for Virgil to notice his vision going blurry in the corners.

It takes him about ten seconds of blinking hard and rubbing his eyes, hoping to clear it, to stumble over his own two feet.

It takes five seconds for Janus’ voice to buzz to life in his earpiece, urgent, “Virgil, get out of there, get away from that man, that’s Lo—”

It takes him about two seconds after that to notice that the blue-eyed Brit is looking at him with an expression clearly lacking remorse.

It takes him about half a second to realize the finger tapping one shoulder, his hand at his hand—the same hand that had been holding his champagne flute. He hadn’t been looking at his drink. The Brit had made him turn away from his drink.

The Brit put something in his drink.

Virgil’s been made.

“Good God, man,” another suited man says, when Virgil stumbles over his own two feet, “had enough of the bubbly, have you?”

Virgil ignores him; even as his vision is growing blurrier and blurrier, his eyes are intent on the Brit, staggering towards him, and he doesn’t even really know why. He’s been made, he should be running, but—

"Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?" Virgil slurs, and his sudden lack of physical control resoundingly answers the question before the Brit can; the arms that catch him before he can full flat on his face are muscular and warm. He’s distantly aware of the crystal-cut grass slipping from his hand and shattering on the marble.

The warm, muscular arms are more pressing than that. And, for a dirty rotten criminal who has probably killed people, the man is quite handsome. His bespectacled face swims in Virgil's vision.

"'I'm very sorry about this," he says smoothly, before his eyes widen in alarm. "Oh no.”

As Virgil is on the verge of unconsciousness, he hears, "It's you."

His last three thoughts before he slips under: did he just fucking say what he thought he said, then, good God his eyes are so blue, then, fuck, I should have paid way more attention to the Lewis clause.

⁂

Virgil is aware of three things as he wakes up: one, he feels like he has a dreadful hangover. Two, he’s pretty sure he’s in a plane or train or car or something moving, which makes him feel motion sick.

Three, he’s been stripped of his earpiece and his weapons.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting; it’s night time, but even the low light is making Virgil’s eyes hurt.

This is a limousine, he can tell that much off the bat; the partition is closed, the glass tinted as dark as it legally can be, the interior leather light-colored, the bar fully stocked with different sodas and crystal-cut decanters full of various liquors, which makes him wince in memory of the champagne.

He feels like shit, but when he looks over and sees the blue-eyed Brit—his soulmate—his soulmate who had fucking drugged him and was working with the mob—it makes him feel even shittier.

“Ah,” his soulmate says. He’s sitting with one ankle resting on his knee, a squat glass of whiskey in hand. He has glasses on now that he hadn’t had on before. Also, his accent is no longer British; he’s got a nice Italian lilt to his voice, now. “Good. You’re awake.”

Virgil stares at him. He doesn’t say a word.

“I’ll admit this,” he gestures between them, “rather put a cinch in my plan on how to deal with you.”

“Would you have killed me?” Virgil asks. His voice comes out a croak. “If we weren’t...”

He trails off.

The man’s eyebrow arches, before he shrugs, and rolls up his sleeve. His soulmark is in the same place as Virgil’s—stamped across his left inner arm, in the spiky handwriting Virgil only uses in his personal notes, not the more uniform one he writes reports with.

Did you just fucking poison me, you fucking asshole?!

Undeniably a matching soulmark to his.

“My parents were quite bemused by it, when it showed up,” the Brit—or American?—the blue-eyed—his soulmate says. “I suppose we have our answers now.”

“Do we?” he says.

The man takes a sip of whiskey. Then, he says, “Your predecessor was FBI. Are you the same?”

Virgil tenses. The man rolls his eyes again.

“Please,” he murmurs. “For an organization meant to be secretive, your lot are quite obvious when you trade moles in and out. One comes in, goes out, and coincidentally someone new is knocking on the door within the week. It’s absurdly simple to pinpoint who’s reporting back to your government. So. FBI, CIA, military...?”

“Who gives a fuck,” Virgil says.

“One should know what one’s soulmate does for a living, shouldn’t they?” he says. “This is a very unique situation. I’m simply trying to find out—”

“What do you do for a living, then?” Virgil snarls. His head is pounding, his mouth is dry and it tastes dreadful, his soulmate is an asshole working for the other side, and he’s being carted off to God knows where. This day is one of the worst of his life. Why couldn’t he have had a nice little café meet-cute, like Roman had had?

The man smiles at him, not particularly kindly. “I diversify.”

Virgil pulls a face, because he knows that’s poking fun at his cover.

“What,” Virgil says, “poison people on Monday, go to Ida Kelly’s resort on Tuesday, with a fun little Friday jaunt of killing people who cross the Trumans?”

“I’ve never actually been to the museum Ida Kelly curates,” the man admits. “It was an easy way to insert myself near you, to put it in your drink. And for goodness’ sake, it wasn’t poison.”

“Roofie. Drug. Whatever.”

The man’s eyebrows pull together, in a rather petulant expression. “I designed that myself, you know.”

“Well, it’s shit,” Virgil snaps. “I feel like I have the worst hangover of my goddamn life.”

“Yes, that was part of the design,” the man says, and offers him a glass of water.

Virgil stares at him. “Seriously.”

“No trust between soulmates?” He says.

“Yeah, well. Fool me once.”

The man shrugs, putting down the glass of water into a cupholder, before digging out a sealed water bottle. Virgil takes it and places it into a cupholder near him. No fucking way he’s accepting any food or drink from this man.

His lips quirk up into a smile.

“Where are you taking me?” Virgil says, ignoring the way that smile makes his heart pound.

“That rather depends,” he admits.

“On?”

“Well.” He says. He uncrosses his legs, planting both feet on the floor. “I’m assuming that now the man in your little earpiece—he was rather rude—is aware that you have been, what is it you say? Made?”

Virgil nods.

“Well. Now that he, and therefore your employer, knows that you are made, you won’t be poking your nose into Truman business anymore, will you?”

Virgil grits his teeth. “Not undercover.”

The man ignores that. “And I know that no matter which you work for, the Lewis clause has been adopted across every arm of that government, and as such you’ll be prohibited from any mission that might bring you into contact with me.”

God damn it. How does he know the spy lessons better than Virgil does?

And then it occurs to him: Janus knew that man. He warned Virgil to get away from him, to get away from Lo—

He rolls this information around in his head. The Lewis clause isn’t exactly a widely advertised part of being a spy; there was a whole trilogy of novels that got adapted into secret agent movies, years ago, that concerned opposing agent spies coming to face each other again and again, and the secondary soulmate agents teamed up together. Which the Lewis clause would prevent, but the public who went and read those novels or saw those movies wouldn’t know that.

So either this man—Lo? Lo what?—either knows a lot about spies, because he’s one of those know your enemy types, or...

Or he sat down and learned about the Lewis clause the same way that Virgil did, except he actually sat down and listened. Maybe he defected, maybe he’s dirty? Or maybe Virgil’s just overthinking it.

Look. Virgil’s got a lot of questions here. Chief among which:

“Where are you taking me?”

“Away,” the man says vaguely, looking at him. “Are you gay?”

Virgil gapes at him.

“I’d be perfectly fine with a platonic soulmate, but for the sake of disclosure, I am gay.”

“For the sake of disclosure,” Virgil repeats disbelievingly, and pinches the bridge of her nose, rubbing it. God, his head hurts terribly.

“Bisexual, or pansexual, perhaps?” He prompts. “Asexual? Or... you could be straight, I suppose.”

“Ugh,” Virgil says reflexively, then shakes himself. “I’m not—okay. Fine. Yeah, I’m gay too.”

“All right,” the man says, as if noting it. “What’s your name?”

Virgil snorts.

“What?”

“Okay, I don’t—” he gestures to the limousine around them. “Again, you just drugged me. I don’t know where you’re taking me. You probably would have killed me if I hadn’t said those words.”

The man makes a moue of distaste.

“Or had someone kill me, I don’t know,” Virgil amends. “Either way, you’re working with that family, who I’m assuming aren’t pleased at having a spy getting caught trying to work himself into your ranks, so I’d rather you not know all that much about my life, thanks.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for your,” an infinitesimal pause, as if he’s wracking his brain, trying to remember something, “social security number or anything. A name.”

Virgil stares at this man. Lo—. Lo something. Lochlan? Loyd? Or was it a codename?

“Yours first.”

The man pauses.

“You drugged me,” Virgil says.

He smiles at Virgil. “Will you hold this over my head for the rest of our lives?”

The rest of our lives. Yes, that’s meant to be the fairytale ending for soulmates, isn’t it? A nice little meeting, the swell of overdramatic violins in the background, falling into each other’s arms and forming a life together. That’s the popular answer.

More and more recently, though, people have been advocating for choice; that soulmates are not always the best person for you.

Virgil doesn’t know which camp he and this man will fall into, just now.

“Yes,” Virgil says quietly. “Yes, I think I will.”

The man sets aside his whiskey.

“Logan.” He says at last, and his accent has changed again; it’s vague, almost indecipherable, but if Virgil had to guess he’d say Midwestern American. Virgil wonders if it’s his real one. “My name is Logan.”

Logan.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Since discovering you’re my soulmate? I haven’t lied to you at all. Not a word.”

“Except for the accent.”

Logan laughs.

“Habit, sorry. It’s a long story that perhaps the man screaming in your earpiece will be able to tell you one day.”

Virgil jolts with surprise. “You know—?”

He cuts himself off before he can say Janus’ name.

“Reputationally,” Logan says, and, as strange as it is, Virgil believes him. In this, at least.

His soulmate’s name is Logan.

“Virgil.”

Logan smiles, his blue eyes glittering. “It’s nice to meet you, Virgil.”

There’s the sound of a soft knock on the partition, and it lowers; Virgil can’t see the driver.

“Sir? We’re here.”

“Right,” Logan murmurs, shaking himself. He reaches into his jacket and withdraws an envelope, offering it for Virgil.

Virgil hesitates.

Logan rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve laced it with anything. I’m holding it with my bare hands.”

Virgil huffs, but he takes it, opening it and pulling out a thin piece of paper.

It’s a commercial flight ticket to Washington, D.C.

“Why D.C.?” Virgil says quietly.

“Most of those organizations are based there,” Logan says. “Is it too far a jump to assume that you are, as well?”

It is actually too far a jump; it’s not even remotely close, he lives in an entirely different part of the states. But. To be fully honest, he doesn’t want Logan to know the state he lives in, and therefore the state that Patton and Roman live in, until Virgil knows if he can be trusted or not.

Logan opens the limousine door from inside, revealing they’ve pulled up to the local airport.

“What, no private plane?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t trust that,” Logan says with a shrug. “The Trumans may be powerful, but you know as well as I that manipulating a flight of this nature is well outside their purview.”

Logan’s right, he absolutely wouldn’t have trusted that, but. This limo’s pretty swanky. For the time he wouldn’t have been obsessively running over every crack and seam in a private jet and interrogating the pilot, he probably would have had a pretty swell time.

Virgil swallows, looking up at Logan. “There are programs, you know? If you wanted to be a witness. Be in service to—”

Logan smiles at him in a way that’s almost pitying. “I left that life behind a long time ago.”

Virgil looks to the airport, then back at Logan.

“Will I see you again?”

Logan shrugs again, almost delicately. “Who’s to say?”

Virgil nods, once, and he says firmly, “I’ll see you later.”

Logan grins at him. “Not if I see you first.”

Virgil slips out of the limo, slams the door shut, and, with what feels like Herculean effort, manages to get into the airport without looking back to see if he can see Logan through the tinted glass.

He does exchange the ticket for another that’s an hour and a half later, though. He’s not a total idiot.

He gets through security pretty quick, and sits in one of the incredibly uncomfortable chairs, his brain pounding with his headache, the questions swirling around in his head making it even worse. Virgil puts his head in his hands.

He just met his soulmate.

His soulmate is working for a mob family.

He just met his soulmate.

His soulmate is apparently smart enough to specifically engineer a roofie.

His soulmate, though!

Janus knows his soulmate. Janus recognized his soulmate.

His soulmate knew about the fucking Lewis clause.

Was his soulmate a spy too? Was his soulmate in deep cover? Had he betrayed his organization? Was he a good person, or had the universe seen fit to hitch Virgil to someone awful?

How had Logan gotten entangled with the Trumans in the first place? Why wasn’t he in the dossier?

Where was Logan even from? Did he like coffee? Hot chocolate? What had he studied in school? What was his favorite food? If they were normal people, would he have asked him on a date and not drugged him and dragged him off in a limo?

Who was Logan?

Whatever the answers to his questions are, though. Virgil knows himself enough to know that he isn’t about to let this case go. Not the Trumans. Not him.

Lewis clause be damned.

#my post #text #my fic #analogical #analogicalweek #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4650 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 7 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Walking out through the automatic doors of Metro-General you were hit with a gust of wind so strong you had to adjust the scarf you had wrapped around your neck to make the fabric feel cozier. In your pocket you feel your phone having a near seizure as it vibrates, alerting you of all the messages you received during the day coming in all at once thanks to the lack of service on the eighth floor.

That’s where you spend most of your time, in the social work department sitting in a small cubicle with yellow fluorescent lighting hanging above and a drafty window that whistles as the wind blows. So far most of your work has been shadowing Elena as she is called down for consultations. When asked, you’ve given appropriate suggestions on what services would best suit the patients but you aren’t yet familiar with enough of them.

It was slow today, which was surprising for a Saturday she mentioned, so most of your time was spent researching the organizations within your reach and learning about the different services they provide. Staring at a screen all day made your eyes nearly close a few times but you survived. On your way home you read through all the messages received.

Ever since your celebratory get together everyone became friendlier with each other and started a group chat, declaring that on weekends you should all meet up and go to different bars.

Not everyone could always make it. Sam was usually working much to Wanda’s dismay, and another time Natasha was preparing for a large trial and needed every minute to work on her case. Bucky would show up about half the time, and you never asked why he couldn’t make it, assuming he had plans to hook up with someone whenever he wasn’t with you guys.

He still had women over on most nights. They weren’t as loud as before but you could hear them, panting his name like a sensual prayer as you scurried across your apartment to the bathroom. If he wasn’t finished by the time you were back in bed you put on your trusty headphones and hoped to fall back asleep.

When you finally exited the subway you replied back to the texts declining tonight’s invitation. You were honestly ready for a nap and even if you took one you doubt it would give you enough energy to stay up later.

A slew of sad faces sent by Steve made you feel a little guilty. He really wanted you to come out with him, especially since he started socializing again but you really needed this night off.

You: I promise I will do my absolute best to come out next weekend

Wanda: You better! Oh and we still have to talk costumes!

Halloween weekend was soon approaching and you knew you couldn’t miss that no matter how tired you were but tonight you were ready to crash.

Your heels were kicked off immediately, makeup barely wiped away as you changed into pumpkin pajama bottoms. Unhooking your bra felt heavenly and you tossed it aside, having it land somewhere in the vicinity of your living room. You slipped on a tank top and threw a comfy sweatshirt over that before plopping onto your bed and under the covers.

With your head on the pillow you stared at the phone cradled in your hand, holding it on the adjacent pillow. You weren’t actually trying to pay attention to the show you put on, just wanting something to fill the void of silence and within a few minutes you were asleep.

It was pitch black when your eyes opened. You searched for your phone on your bed, hands skimming across the mattress but you couldn’t find it. The smarter thing to do would be to turn on the lamp on your nightstand which you finally did. Your phone had fallen to the floor and upon picking it up you saw the time. It wasn’t that late, only nine-something. You could still go out and meet up with everyone but you chose not to. You were still kind of tired and now very hungry. Too lazy to make something you ordered pizza.

Hocus Pocus played in the background as you waited for your food; and finally looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror you fixed your half-assed attempt at makeup removal from before. Feeling more energized you straightened up your tossed clothes while absentmindedly singing along.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re gone, gone, gone so long. I put a spell on you and it was strong, so strong, so strong, so strong.”

You bounced around your apartment continuing to sing while tidying up. You were so excited for the prospect of pizza you practically ran to your door when there was a knock, opening it without looking through the peephole.

Instead of the pizza there was Bucky, arms crossed with a beaming smile. “Hey neighbor.”

You were surprised to see him, wondering why he would be knocking at your door and not out like you thought he would be. He also declined meeting up with everyone tonight so you assumed he had plans of his own.

“H-hey, what’re you doing here Bucky?”

His arms fell to his sides. “Oh nothing, just wanted to say thank you.”

Your face scrunched with confusion, trying to think of what reason he might need to thank you but just then Bucky answered the question you hadn’t asked.

“For the show. I put a spell on yooooou,” he mimicked, swirling his arms across his chest performatively.

“Oh no, you heard me!?”

You hid your face in your hands as Bucky chuckled, “Thin walls, remember?”

Peeking through your fingers you saw the genuine smile stretched across Bucky’s face. He may have been teasing but he wasn’t laughing at you. Thankfully he hadn’t heard anything worse, because if there was a real Disney marathon on he might have been the one putting on his headphones to block out the high notes you strained to reach in “Let It Go.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” you smirk back at him. “So, you headed out?”

His head shook before he answered. “No, staying in tonight. I was up all night composing; it threw my whole day off.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that goi– ” The loud buzzing of your doorbell made you jump. That was the pizza. “Hang on a sec.”

You stepped back into your apartment to press the bell for the front door, telling Bucky he might as well step inside as you went to get your wallet.

“Are you hungry? I got pizza from Antonio’s. Have you tried them before?”

He thought about it and shook his head.

“Well sit down then and we can cross it off our list.” You smiled, turning around as you heard the muffled ding of the elevator from down the hall and waited at your front door for the delivery.

Bucky didn’t plan on spending his evening with you but he certainly didn’t mind the sudden change. He excused himself to go back to his apartment and turn off his lights. While there he cancelled plans with a girl named Rachel who would have been over sometime after midnight. She was cute but he really wasn’t feeling anything and truthfully between the lack of sleep he doesn’t have the energy to entertain her.

When Bucky came back you had the pizza set up on the table beside some plates and napkins. “Not sure what you wanted to drink,” you stated, opening your fridge and letting him choose what he wanted.

Together you settled down on your couch, with Bucky holding onto the beer as you raced up again to grab a coaster. He chuckled to himself as you bounced back beside him, taking a sip of the soda that you splashed with a little rum.

“See, it’s like I went out tonight,” you chuckled, raising your glass.

As Hocus Pocus ended you let him flip through the channels to find something to watch. There was an abundance of Halloween movies on and Bucky gasped when he found the perfect one.

“You’ve seen Psycho, right?” He smiled when you nodded. “Okay, but you haven’t seen it with me so you’re really in for a treat.”

Bucky sat up straighter, excited for the start of one of his favorite movies. It took less than ten seconds for him to start breaking things down to you, and not in a pretentious way you’ve been accustomed to by men before. Though you didn’t know Bucky for that long you could immediately see a change in him. His eyes lit up, filled with wonder as he began to describe the score.

“Right away we’re hit with unnerving music playing over the opening title sequence, with the text literally being dissected. It’s audiovisual foreshadowing in its most beautiful form. It really sets the tone for the film.”

All throughout the film Bucky would interject facts that you loved to hear, especially since every word was laced with passion.

“Have you noticed something?”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be noticing,” you said, smiling at him while grabbing another slice.

“The score. It’s all strings. It’s beautiful. You know piano might be my favorite to play but strings…” he sighed happily, “Those are my favorite to compose.”

As the movie continued you couldn’t help but glance over at Bucky, watching the way he would sometimes shut his eyes and listen to the score alone, his mouth tugging his lips into a content smile as he appreciated the music.

When the infamous shower scene came on Bucky tapped your arm, practically scrambling to talk about the score again.

“Herrmann designed the score in a way where the shrill notes of the strings represent the blade stabbing Marion even though you don’t see it. That’s the power of music.”

Bucky turned to the screen to watch the score play out over the scene and when it was over he suddenly remembered he was with you in your apartment and not back in college where his rants on music analysis were welcome.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you probably just wanted to watch the movie and I’m ruining it because I can’t shut my damn mouth.” Fingers ran through his long hair as Bucky let out a stressful sigh.

“No, Bucky it’s okay really. I liked learning about that, it’s not something I ever really thought of before.” Your smile washed away his worries and Bucky thanked you for letting him ramble on.

When the movie ended you and Bucky continued to lounge on your couch, finding another one to watch. Feeling a chill run down your back you grabbed the fuzzy blanket and draped it across yourself, extending the material to Bucky in case he was also cold. With the comfort of the blanket and pizza filling your sated stomachs, neither you or Bucky realized you had ended your evening by falling asleep.

You awake with a groan, reaching your hand up to your neck as it stretches uncomfortably. Blinking your eyes a few times you noticed you weren’t in bed and your couch didn’t feel normal. Sitting up and stretching you finally cocked your head and realized why; you weren’t sleeping on a cushion.

Bucky was asleep on your couch in a half sitting up, half laying down, one-hundred percent uncomfortable position. It wasn’t unusual to have a man sleeping on your couch as Steve had crashed there in the past, and occasionally you had fallen asleep on him but Bucky was not Steve. Yet somehow it didn’t seem as awkward as it should have been. Maybe it was the way Bucky bared his musical heart last night but you felt like you understood him on a new level.

Quietly you got up from the couch, gently placing cups and dishes in the sink making sure they didn’t make a sound. You threw away whatever garbage was lying around, setting the pizza box aside and then finally made your way to the bathroom. You forgot to lock the door and hoped he wouldn’t wake up. Sleeping on Bucky was one thing but you’re not ready for him to burst through the door as you’re peeing.

“Shit. Did I fall asleep here?” Bucky rasped as he woke up not long after.

“Yeah it’s alright. How’s your neck?” you asked just as his face scrunched together while stretching.

“Not the best.” Bucky looked around, seeing your bed covers thrown in the same position he recalled from the night before. “D-did you sleep here too? I mean on the couch, I know this is your place,” he chuckled somewhat nervously.

“Yeah, sorry if your arm’s a little numb. I think I slept on it.” You grimaced as he shook the pins and needles feeling away.

“I feel terrible imposing like this. Let me make it up to you. Breakfast at my place? I make the best omelettes. Five stars, I promise.”

His head tilted down to reveal big, blue eyes that begged for forgiveness. You couldn’t say no if you tried.

“Sounds good Bucky.”

You agreed to come over in a half hour as Bucky wanted to take a shower to really wake himself up first. As the warm water sprayed against his aching muscles he frowned, wondering why he was upset at the momentary loss of your scent surrounding him. This was… weird and Bucky decided not to give it further thought, figuring it comes with the territory of having new friends.

Sunday’s were the only day you had for yourself; no work, no internship, just a full day you could spend however you wanted. Breakfast with Bucky was worth spending some of that time on. Not only were his omelettes as delicious as he said they would be but you really enjoyed his company, even after spending most of the night together.

“Steve you look amazing!”

You beamed as he walked into your apartment, twirling around slowly so you could get a good look at his Robin Hood costume. He set his bow down on your table, asking to help adjust the straps of his quiver containing his plastic arrows.

“So you think you’ll find your Maid Marian tonight?” you smirked, adjusting the hood attached to his green tunic.

Steve chuckled under his breath, ignoring you and quickly changing the topic. “You look heavenly,” he said teasingly.

You raised your palm, belting out an angelic sound as you looked up towards the large silver halo hanging above your head. For your Halloween costume you were going as an angel, wearing a long pleated white dress adorned with a sequined straps and feathery white wings that stuck out a few inches past your shoulders.

“My feet are going to kill me,” you stated, slipping into a pair of glittery platform pumps you haven’t worn since attending your friend Nakia’s wedding last year. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Wanda was dressing up as a devil, probably perfecting her scarlet lips as you speak. She was going to meet up directly at the bar along with Sam who would be coming straight from work. Clint and Natasha would be traveling with you and Steve, and Bucky… well he didn’t exactly RSVP for tonight’s hang out. He said he would try to be there and you hoped he would. It’s been a while since the whole group was together and you missed the fun of that dynamic.

A knock on your door had you clacking your heels against the wood floor as you stride across the room. Steve cocks his head at the immediate burst of laughter he heard.

“S-Steve...”

You’re barely able to get his name out as you walk further into your apartment, face tight with laughter and then he sees it... Clint’s costume. Steve’s head tips backwards immediately with laughter as his hand goes to his chest, unable to contain the sight in front of him.

Clint was dressed, or rather undressed as Princess Leia in her prisoner outfit. A green bra adorned with golden accents stretched across his pale chest and the skirt was cut high on his legs, revealing they had not seen the sun in years, or maybe ever. He wore cowboy boots to complete his look, twirling the gold chain that hung from the choker around his neck, grinning widely at Steve who could not catch his breath.

Natasha strode in behind him as the sexiest Han Solo you’ve ever seen in a simple white shirt and black vest, knee high boots over slim blue pants. They looked amazing together but Clint obviously won between the two.

Locking up you looked over towards Bucky’s door, debating for a moment to knock and see if he would come out. You hadn’t heard much noise through the wall so you let it go and headed towards the elevators with everyone.

“Wanda! What the fuck?!”

You stared at your best friend wearing a costume that was not what you had planned.

“Didn’t you get my text?” She tucked a freshly colored strand of hair behind her ears, a deep cherry red that make the white hat bearing the red nursing cross symbol of her costume stand out even more.

You shrugged off your bag to grab your phone and check, muttering under your breath how mad you would be at yourself if you missed her text.

“Wait, stop.” Wanda halted your actions as you held your phone. “I didn’t text you. I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t want you to be mad at me but I really wanted to go as a nurse.”

“Wan, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“It’s just that Sam is coming from work and I thought it would be cute… to match him.” She tried to hide the blush that dusted her cheeks.

You teased her a bit more, asking if she and Sam are gonna actually do something other than flirt with each other.

“Well, maybe tonight we can change that.” She smiled, with a hopeful twinkle in her eye.

“I hope so. Sam would be a total ass if he didn’t make a move, just sayin’”

“Speaking of asses, Clint’s is hanging out!” She pointed towards him laughing, “I cannot believe he wore that!”

The night was fun as you danced and drank with the girls. Sam arrived later than you expected but Wanda lit up like a Christmas tree. He wore blue scrubs (a fresh pair thankfully as he began to describe a trauma that came in earlier) and he was equally surprised to see her costume.

“If you came in lookin’ like that we would have had to put a lot of people on life support!”

Wanda and Sam went to get a drink together leaving you and Natasha alone to dance. Clint was sitting in a booth and you scanned the room for Steve who you thought was with him.

“Oh my god!”

You turned Natasha around, to point at Steve in the corner talking to a beautiful Daenerys Targaryen. You had seen a few of them tonight already, some wearing the blue and gold dress from Qarth and another as Daenerys if she were a White Walker, but this one caught your eye.

She was shorter than Steve but stood tall holding her shoulders back. There was something regal about her and not just because she was dressed as the Mother of Dragons determined to finally set sail to Westeros. You couldn’t hear their conversation but you could tell that Steve was hooked on every word, captivated by the way she spoke, watching him look to the floor with embarrassment after she flashed her smile at him.

A woman with short blonde hair dressed as Cersei Lannister came up to them, handing Daenerys, who was obviously her friend, a drink. Steve politely introduced himself, though it was clear he only had eyes for his Khaleesi.

“What’re we looking at?”

The hot breath of a voice tickled your bare shoulders and you turned ever so slightly to find Bucky’s face right beside you.

“You made it!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Bucky for a hug and he was careful of your wings as he returned the gesture.

“Hey neighbor, or uh neighbors,” he laughed at himself greeting Natasha. “Why are you staring at Steve?”

“‘Cause I think he’s actually flirting with someone for the first time in over a year!”

Bucky smiled as he saw how happy you were for Steve. You had a big heart and it was one of the reasons Bucky really liked you– your friendship, he corrected his inner thoughts.

Natasha walked back to sit beside Clint leaving you and Bucky together. You finally take a look at his costume; a black leather jacket and white t-shirt, cuffed jeans and high top Converse sneakers. His hair was slicked back and pulled into a bun, not the right length to really style as Danny Zuko but everything else made it obvious.

You followed him as he went to the bar to get a drink and got yourself another. He raised his voice over the loud music, “So how many people have asked if it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

“Surprisingly not too many. But someone did grab my hand and said they were ‘touched by an angel.’”

Bucky scowled. “Who grabbed you?” He started looking around the bar, flaring his nostrils as he scanned the room, as if he would magically be able to tell.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “It’s okay, Steve and Clint took care of it. I think Clint scared the guy more to be honest.”

A smile cracked on Bucky’s face again. “He’s pretty brave. You wouldn’t catch me in that.”

“No you look like more of a Luke to me, like literally you kind of look like a young Mark Hamill.” You smiled as Bucky laughed, protesting your claim. “No it’s true. If your hair was shorter I could totally see you pull off an awesome Luke Skywalker.”

“Cut my hair? Hmm, I don’t think so.” He shook his head quickly.

The two of you went to the table with Natasha and Clint and the four of you were soon joined by Steve, whose eyes might as well have been in the shape of hearts by the expression he couldn’t shake.

“What’s her name?” Clint cooed, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his hands under his chin.

A deep smile spread across Steve’s face as he slouched into the chair, his body becoming jelly at the sound of her name leaving his lips. “Peggy. Peggy Carter. Agent Carter actually.”

Peggy was a British Intelligence Agent who worked at the Consulate in New York. Steve looked over her contact information on his phone and even though she was a few feet away from him he couldn’t wait to see her again. He had taken enough of her time away from her friends, Carol, the Cersei who he just met, and the group they were supposed to have joined though Steve and Peggy’s extended conversation kept her occupied.

“Those might as well be Cupid’s arrows huh, Robin Hood!” you teased.

Natasha smirked, “Speaking of Cupid…” She directed everyone’s attention to Sam and Wanda having a full on makeout session in the middle of the dance floor.

Clint roared loudly at them which they may not have heard over the music, but either way it didn’t seem like anything would stop their lips from separating, even the need for air. At least Sam was a doctor, he’ll know what to do.

Everyone seemed to break up into groups. Sam and Wanda were still inseparable, Clint was with Natasha posing for pictures, Steve met up with Peggy again and you couldn’t be mad about that, which left you and Bucky alone.

It was nice to catch up with him again. Between developing programs for The September Foundation and interning at the hospital and Bucky working to meet a deadline you hadn’t seen much of each other in the last week.

“Must be fun though,” he commented, while discussing your new duties at Stark Industries.

“Maybe it would be if I wasn’t so intimidated,” you half-joked, laughing before you took a sip of your drink. “I’m surrounded by– ”

“Buuuccckkkkyyyyy!”

The familiar sound of a woman whining his name interrupted you. A creepy tingle ran down your spine as you remembered where you’ve heard that exact whine before– through the walls.

A redhead wearing hardly anything runs up to Bucky and clearly they have been well acquainted before. She ignores your presence completely as she wraps her arms around him for a hug, pulling him away from you. In doing so you missed the uncomfortable look on Bucky’s face.

“Dot. I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Same. If you told me we coulda matched Buck. I’d be the Sandy to your Danny.” She lifted her chest, pushing her breasts out even more than they already were.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Bucky wondered out loud, looking up and down at the lingerie she was wearing.

Dot scoffed. “I’m the witch from Hocus Pocus.”

Bucky sort of saw it; the purple lace up corset and sheer skirt, cut specifically to show more skin, with the lacy green robe. Her red curls were sort of shaped into Winifred Sanderson’s similar hairstyle but Dot specifically let a few tresses fall beside her face.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re mine!”

She sang every note off key and Bucky tried to stop his face from looking like he was going to throw up. It was nothing like the way you sounded that night you were singing carefree in your apartment. Bucky turned around to plead with you and help him get rid of this girl but you were nowhere to be found.

With Bucky’s attention clearly taken you decided to get another drink and there you ran into Bruce. You knew him from work as one of Tony Stark’s top scientists. You had run into during the R&D meetings you attended with Maria but tonight he looked great as Doc Brown from Back to the Future.

“Some of us science bros wanted to dress up accordingly,” he chuckled softly, pointing out his friends dressed as other famous fictional scientists, Dr. Frankenstein and a mashup of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.

“That’s amazing!” you laughed, beaming a wide smile that caught Bucky’s attention from across the bar.

You looked really happy while talking to that guy and Bucky didn’t want to interrupt. Just like Steve, he knew you hadn’t given yourself much time in the past to meet someone so if this was your night to get lucky he didn’t want to take that away from you, even if he would much prefer to continue hanging out. Dot grinded against him and Bucky let her, leaving shortly after as she made some bad comment about “riding his broom.”

After speaking with Bruce you caught up with everyone who seemed ready to go home.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked, looking around for him.

“I think he left with some girl,” Sam said, half paying attention, giggling as Wanda wiped some of her lipstick off of him.

“Oh,” you said, deflated.

Walking out of the bar you draped your jacket across your shoulders and protruding wings, wondering why you felt so hurt that Bucky hadn’t said goodbye. It was rude but you don’t know what you expected.

Before you even knew Bucky you knew this is what he was like, sleeping with half of New York so you shouldn’t be surprised. Yet when you got home, just before getting into bed you stared silently at the wall you shared, feeling a single tear slip down your cheek.

PART 9

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

728 notes · View notes

moss-lyman · 3 years

Note

If you’re taking prompts and are ever in the mood, I’d love some post series j/d + ‘feeling insecure’

Also I’ve just ripped through everything you’ve posted on AO3 and I wanted to say thank you for writing and for doing it for free you’re a goddamn icon 😭

thank you so much for these kind words! it’s crazy to me that people actually read and care about what I write 🥺 the west wing fandom isn’t big by any means, but you guys have really shown me a lot of love and I really appreciate it! 💛

here’s a little bit set post-series. :)

Josh looks over at Donna as their driver takes them home and he nudges her shoulder. “You’re quiet today.” She doesn’t acknowledge him so he nudges her again. “Donna?”

“Hm?” she asks, turning finally to look at him.

“You okay?”

She goes back to staring out the window and sighs. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a long day.”

Josh frowns. “How’d the meeting with the women’s caucus go?”

She huffs out a laugh, but Josh knows she’s not actually amused. “Well, do you wanna hear about how Helen is a disappointing First Lady or how I’m a worthless chief of staff?”

“What? Who said that to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he urges and he grabs her hand to draw her attention away from the window. “It absolutely does matter. Who the hell said that to you?”

Donna stares at their joined hands and moves her thumb errantly over his knuckles. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe Helen was wrong in picking me.”

“No,” he says firmly and moves her chin up so he can see her face. “Don’t talk like that. Those women... they’re mostly conservative which makes them mostly addle minded anyway. They don’t get to set the First Lady’s agenda. You do. And the caucus will be lucky if you give them a heads up first. You know that’s how we run things.”

“But Josh, I’m not established like I should be. Most congresspeople still see me as your assistant. They’re more worried about what you’re doing than what I have to say. It’s just...” She sighs and puts on her brave face. “It’s fine. It was just a long day is all,” she finishes lamely, wanting to drop the conversation completely.

Josh pulls her into his side and rubs her shoulder, putting his mouth right by her ear. “You are capable. You’re smart, you’re savvy, you’re quick on your feet, you’re always calm and insanely organized. You are meant to do this job,” he murmurs, his tone soft, but firm, and she sniffs a little. “I can’t even put into words how proud I am of you. You amaze me. Every single day, Donna. Do not let those awful women demean you. You’re right where you’re supposed to be. I know it.”

Donna sniffs again and plays with a frayed string on his dress shirt. “How are you so sure?”

“What do you mean how am I sure? You were my chief of staff for 7 years.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” he argues. “I mean, you corralled Congress and you organized everything like you do in Mrs. Santos’ life. You made big plays and took meetings with important people.”

“I didn’t make policy.”

“Donna, you sat on the budget meetings.”

“Which led to a government shut down.”

“Because of the republicans!” he exclaims. “Not because you weren’t adequate. Leo himself believed in you and your capabilities, babe. I mean, I can’t really give you higher validation than that.” She sighs and tucks into him a little more, so he kisses her forehead. “If it means anything... I believe in you, too.”

She takes her head off his shoulder and gives him a small smile, her eyes a little red from holding back frustrated tears. “It does,” she assures quietly.

Josh leans down and gives her a sweet kiss. “You’re doing an incredible job. Don’t let them ruin your hard work.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes,” he murmurs and gives her another kiss before settling her in the crook of his arm. “Take a page from my book and yell a little next time.”

“I’m a refined woman. I don’t yell.”

“You yell at me all the time.”

“I firmly admonish you for leaving your clothes everywhere. I don’t yell.”

“Pretend they’re me then. Don’t sugarcoat anything with Congress. They’re annoying little sycophants. They have no say in how you run the First Lady’s office. You’re the boss.”

Donna sniffs again and let’s out a long exhale as Josh continues to rub her shoulder. She was feeling defeated all day long. Nothing was going right, she got called names, and she’d been feeling like a total failure - ready to throw in the towel completely and give Mrs. Santos her resignation. It’s weird and also insanely wonderful that Josh can make her mood do a total 180. The tension and fear snarling in her stomach has all but dissipated, and she feels ready to go back to work tomorrow.

“When did you get so good at pep talks?”

“I’m a man of the people,” he quips.

“You hate people.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the exception.”

She stares at their linked hands in his lap and wonders what she did to deserve such a sweet man. “Thank you,” she murmurs, getting emotional for a different reason, and he brings their hands to his lips so he can kiss hers. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

He smiles and holds their hands against his chest. “Yes you could,” he assures, completely confident in her capabilities. “But I plan on being there regardless. I love watching you take over the world.”

“I don’t know about that,” she says, sitting up as the driver pulls in front of their building. “I think I’ll just focus on the east wing for now.”

She moves to get out of the car, but he stops her. “Hey,” he murmurs, pulling a little on her hand. She looks back at him and he’s glad to see all signs of distress gone. “I just wanna say that I am... so incredibly beyond proud of you. And I know I don’t tell you enough, but I am.” She tilts her head as her eyes turn glassy, but he holds steady. “I knew after that very first day that you would go places and I just feel very lucky that I get to be the guy behind you who cheers you on.”

She doesn’t get a word out before she surges forward and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as more happy tears slip down her cheeks.

“I love you so much,” he whispers after a moment and moves back to rest his forehead against hers, bringing his thumbs up to wipe her tears away, and kissing her on the forehead.

Her laugh comes out a little watery as she leans back from him completely to flip her hair off her shoulder and wipe the mascara runs from her eyes.

“You got me all gross,” she complains and sniffs again, but Josh doesn’t care.

“Come here,” he murmurs and brings her forward to press his lips to hers. He vaguely hears their agents getting antsy as they sit in the car with Donna’s door open, so he keeps it short and sweet. “You’re beautiful. And smart and capable. Dont ever let anyone tell you otherwise, alright? And if they do, just send ‘em my way.”

“Josh,” she admonishes, but her smile is bright as she finally steps out of the car, much to the secret service’s approval, and meets him in front, taking his hand again.

“You know, everyone always says the White House is like the mob. Just say the word, Donna. They’ll never trace it back.”

She laughs outright at that and nudges him with her shoulder. “You’d put a hit out for me?” she asks, lilting her voice to mimick pure adoration. Like he just gave her 100 red roses.

“I would do considerably more than that,” he answers honestly, walking through the main door of their building. “Nothing’s off the table.”

“You’re very sweet,” she says, holding onto his bicep as he leads her up to their apartment. “And a little ridiculous.”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

She hums in agreement and gets in front of him so she can pull him along by his tie. “That you are,” she murmurs, her bad mood completely forgotten as she draws him into the apartment, the front door closing just as she gets his lips on hers. “Show me some more.”

#my fic #josh x donna #the west wing

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 3 years

Note

loved your previous fic with dick & gar for the "hand-holding" prompt. if you're still taking prompts, then please do #12 - "pushing a strand of hair behind their ear" with dick and gar

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Good Men and Women NOT Doing Nothing

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson & Gar Logan, Dick Grayson & Rachel Roth

Summary: There's something different about Gar when he walks into the kitchen one morning and the reason behind it is deeper than Dick initially thought.

Touching | 12. pushing a strand of hair behind their ear, Dick & Gar - for @wanderingroundwonderland

Also tagging my besties @undertheknightwing and @wonderbatwayne 😘😘😘 and now I'm going to sleep 😂

____________________________________________

Dick liked getting up along with the sun, especially on a day like this when warm rays of sunshine filtered through the wide windows, coloring the inside of the Tower with a soft golden glow. It filled his body with much needed energy for the day and brightened his mind like not many other things could.

He was just flipping another pancake over when his attention was distracted by a long, loud yawn.

"Good morning." Rachel mumbled at him as she entered the kitchen, all messy hair and cute pajamas, heading straight for the coffee pot he had prepared for her beforehand.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He replied cheerfully, placing the pancake on the plate beside him. He reached for a can of whipped cream and squeezed a little on top of it, then decorated the meal with fresh strawberries - the way Rachel liked best. "How'd you sleep?" rolled off his tongue with ease as he offered her a portion while she sat down on the stool across from him, holding her favorite mug full of caffeine drink in her hand.

Rachel, rubbing her eyes to get rid of the rest of sleepiness, gave him a lazy smile and pulled the stack of pancakes towards her. "Fine." she shrugged and eagerly got to eating. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste, which caused a wave of warmth swarming Dick's chest and made him smile to himself, pleased with both his growing cooking skills and her reaction. "But do you really have to kick us out of bed so early? I need my beauty sleep, Kory says it's very important."

"Of course she does." Dick muttered under his breath, trying not to pay attention to the fact that his heart twitched as if it was electrocuted at the mention of Kory. "Early morning means you have more time during the day."

"So what if we have more time when we can't even move after early training." a new voice joined their conversation, making Dick and Rachel simultaneously turn their heads in the direction it was coming from.

And Dick fell speechless, frozen with a pancake on a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other.

Gar walked in, stretching with his arms raised behind his head, fingers tangled together tightly. It wouldn't be anything unusual, that was a part of his morning routine, but what threw Dick off guard was that Gar looked… different.

"Good morning to you, too." Dick told him with a grin plastered to his face to mask his confusion when the boy dropped down next to Rachel, eyeing her pancakes longingly. The girl snickered and elbowed him in the arm, seemingly not surprised nor bothered by the sudden change.

Gar must have felt Dick's eyes boring into him because he stilled suddenly and turned to the older man.

"What?"

"Nothing, just…" Dick paused for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. "Uh, what's with the new haircut?" he finally blurted after handing the boy his own plate of pancakes.

Gar's eyes grew large like he just turned into a night owl - or more like one eye, the one Dick could see, because the other one was covered by a curtain of his green hair, brushed down on the side of his forehead. He blinked twice and just kept staring back until Rachel shoved her elbow in his side, harder this time.

"Ow! Uh, yeah… that." the boy stuttered, rubbing the hurting spot while shooting Rachel an annoyed glare. "I, uh… I decided to change things up a bit, experiment… yeah…" his words trailed off into an awkward silence and Gar shoved a big piece of pancake into his mouth to avoid talking. As he reached for a strawberry from a bowl on the counter, he didn't meet Dick's eyes.

He's embarrassed, Dick figured as he watched the boy putting all his focus on eating his breakfast to avoid going more into the topic. Rachel kept observing him as well, her stare warm and sympathetic, though Dick couldn't help but notice a hint of worry behind her eyes.

"Looks good to me." Dick commented finally, earnest and true. The change was unexpected, yes, but if Gar felt like wanting to change something about himself then he had every right to do it. And it really didn't look bad. His words got the boy to lift his eyes back up and he sent him a sheepish grin.

"What's up, people?" Jason announced his presence with an unnecessarily loud shout, making Rachel flinch in response.

"Damn it, Jason. It's 7 am, keep it down, would you?" she grumbled at him when he slid into a free seat on her other side.

He threw a glance at her coffee mug, then almost obnoxiously pushed it closer to her with his index finger "Looks like someone is in desperate need of more caffeine."

Dick couldn't resist a chuckle when she rolled her eyes so hard she must have seen the back of her skull.

"Shut up." she huffed as Jason stole a strawberry from her plate and threw it into his mouth, but then his eyes set on Gar.

"Cool haircut, bro." he said, his lips stretching into a smirk. "But that emo punk fringe was cool back in like 2009, y'know?"

Gar sent a death glare his way. "Very funny, Jason."

"Hey, it looks dope!" The other boy raised his hands in defence, but then leaned in closer again, eyes squinting mischievously. "It makes you look… mysterious. Like you got something to… hide."

This time it was Jason's side that became a target of Rachel's elbow and that plus the way he said it made Dick do a double take. There was an undertone to Jason's voice, an insinuation of a deeper meaning. Gar froze for a moment, unsure how to react. Eventually he opted to end the conversation by throwing Jason an awkward smile and got up from his seat, taking the empty plate with him and rounded the kitchen island to put it in the sink.

"You know, Dick," he started, inching closer to his side. "I checked out online this fighting style you mentioned during our last training, the uh… Okichitaw, yeah. And I'd really like to learn it. Some basics at least."

Dick put the last portion of pancakes - his own - on the plate and turned to the boy with a smile, feeling excitement rising slowly in his chest. He knew what Gar was really trying to do right now - change the course of the conversation, turn it away from him and his hair. Dick couldn't blame him for that. But Gar also wasn't lying, he really was eager to learn and Dick appreciated the fact that he even did a bit of his own research.

"Sure, buddy. We can start right away." he replied instantly and Gar beamed at him, buzzing with happiness. His head twitched in an attempt to get the hair out of his eye. It was clear getting accustomed to that new hairstyle is gonna take longer than the boy expected. Dick chuckled at his annoyed frown when the hair fell back on his face. "Now go get ready, we'll start in an hour."

He reached out to playfully ruffle the boy's hair but when he did, Gar unexpectedly flinched. He froze, his body taut as a string, jaw clenched to bite back a groan of pain. The kitchen suddenly became very quiet, no clattering of cutlery, not even breathing. Dick's hand stilled on the boy's head and he slowly took it away, looking at Gar who again was trying to avoid his eyes. Dick looked back at the other two teens, who sat still as statues in their seats, both nervous and waiting - Rachel was biting her lower lip nervously while Jason's eyes jumped between Dick and Gar, smirk tugging at his lips.

At first he hesitated, but eventually Dick reached out again, slowly and carefully this time and pushed the strand of hair out of the boy's face, tucking what he could behind his ear. The green curtain revealed a nasty long cut travelling in line with his hairline, held together by two small dressing plasters. It already stopped bleeding but it looked deep and was inflamed, the area around it red and swollen.

"Holy shit, Gar! When did this happen?" The man's voice rang out with worry as he stepped closer to take a better look. He brushed his fingers over the wound, his touch feather-light but Gar still twitched a little, face twisting in a grimace. He didn't answer, just looked to the side - right at Rachel - pleading for help with his eyes. Dick followed his gaze.

The girl sighed as she put her fork down and shook her head.

"I told you he was gonna notice." she told her friend. What was even more strange was that Jason actually agreed with her, nodding eagerly.

Confusion is not strong enough of a word to describe what was going on inside Dick's mind right now. How the hell did this happen? Was that during yesterday's training? No, he would notice. After? They had a free evening and he let the kids go out to have some fun in the city. A surge of fierce protectiveness washed over him as his eyes went back to Gar who looked so miserable Dick's heart almost broke on the spot. He let his hand slide under the boy's chin and he gently lifted his face up so their eyes could meet.

"What happened, Gar?" he asked, his voice calm and soft, but not without the tense undertone of someone who is ready to throw some punches with the reason behind that wound. "Who did this to you?"

Gar gulped down, eyes wide in fear and mouth dry, and looked at Rachel again - just a glance, but she noticed anyway.

"Tell him." she encouraged him softly. Gar nodded once and took a deep breath, bracing himself.

"Um, yesterday when… when we were at the mall, me and Rach passed by these guys in SFSU jerseys. Six of them, I think." he started, stumbling through the words. His fingers fumbled nervously with the hem of his t-shirt but he bravely held Dick's gaze as he spoke. "They started catcalling Rachel, saying some gross stuff I am not willing to ever repeat and… and I had to step in."

At first all Dick could hear was static after what he just heard. Then the sense of Gar's words slowly started coming to him and he staggered back.

"What?"

Now it wasn't just protectiveness, it was pure fire raging through Dick's veins. Rachel… getting catcalled? That was unacceptable. Unfathomable. It wasn't just crossing the line, it was breaking it like a dry twig and setting it on fire and whoever did that was really fucking lucky Dick wasn't there to hear it. He let go of Gar's chin and set his hand on his shoulder instead, trying to keep himself from shaking. His other hand already formed into a fist, fingers curled so tightly his knuckles turned white. He instantly looked at Rachel, searching for any signs of something being wrong, a series of questions already forming on his tongue, but she beat him to it and quickly shook her head.

"I'm okay, I swear. Nothing happened."

"You sure?" he insisted, his gut gnawing at him to learn more because maybe they are not telling him everything. "They didn't do anything? You're not hurt? Because I swear to God, if-"

"Dick, I'm okay." was her only reply, soft, quiet and calming.

"She wanted me to ignore them but they were very pushy." Gar continued, his gaze darting between her and Dick. "They surrounded us, one of them got too close to her and got… grabby, so to speak so I punched him."

Grabby? As in… no, that was too much. His fists were now itching to meet that person's face. To rip their insides out and wrap them around their neck. No one dares to lay a damn finger on her. No one.

"Fucking assholes." Jason muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He sent Rachel a sympathetic look and she smiled back at him, thanking silently.

"I would have been fine, I know how to handle myself." she insisted to Gar as she got up from her seat and walked up to him to lay a hand on his shoulder. He instantly turned to her.

"I know, but what was I supposed to do? Just stand there and do nothing? We're Titans now, remember? Men and women not doing nothing."

Dick honestly wanted to hug Gar in that moment, his chest filling with an insane amount of pride. He stood up for her, protected her, even if he got his ass kicked in the end. They can work on that and after what Dick just learned he will make damn sure that they will, but the intention was what mattered the most right now.

He squeezed Gar's shoulder gently and when the boy turned back to him, Dick leaned in to look him in the eyes.

"That was very brave of you, thank you. I'm proud of you, buddy." he said, noticing how Gar's eyes glazed over with tears after hearing the words. The boy chuckled softly, nodding in response. "But how did you get this?" He asked, pointing at his forehead.

"Well, that asshole punched back." Gar stated bluntly, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "He knocked me down pretty hard, I hit my head on the edge of a fountain, y'know that giant one in the main hall. I saw stars, for a moment I couldn't move-"

"You scared the hell out of me." Rachel whispered, sliding her arm around his shoulders.

"Sorry." Gar replied, bumping his head with hers. And immediately regretted it, flinching at the pain it caused to his forehead. "Anyway, after that they left us alone, walked away laughing. And before you ask-" he pointed his finger at Dick, seeing that the man was already gearing up to ask questions. "No, I don't know their names and no, you can't go find them and beat the shit out of them. I know you want to."

Dick snickered and shook his forehead.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Dude, you're basically vibrating with fury right now." Jason told him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ooof, I wouldn't want to be on the other end of that wrath."

Dick decided to ignore his younger brother's remark, but couldn't deny the truth behind it - the fury he felt right now, if unleashed, could be deadly. It pulled a delicate string, knocked on a door he locked when he brought these three kids to San Francisco. It reminded him of the rage and violence of his Robin days. Dick wanted to put it away for good but to be honest it would really come in handy right now.

"I'm sorry," Gar suddenly whispered, which brought Dick back to the present - and caught completely off guard. The boy bowed his head down, letting the hair fall back on his forehead and cover the cut.

"For what?" Dick asked softly, moving his hand to the nape of Gar's neck.

"I should have done more. I would have but the Tiger started showing and… I couldn't risk it so I had to back down."

At first Dick just stared at him, same as Rachel, completely taken aback. Then he opened his arms and smiled at the two teenagers.

"Come here, you two."

He pulled them into his arms, pressing them tightly to his chest. Gar froze at first, surprised but then tucked his face into his shoulder and breathed deeply. Rachel nestled into his other side, he could feel her smiling against his neck when her arms circled his middle. He put his hands in their hair, cradling their heads and pulling them closer as he spoke.

"Gar, you have nothing to apologize for, okay?" he insisted, turning his face to the boy. "You did the right thing. I'm proud of you and you have no idea how happy I am that you were with her back then." When Gar nodded, Dick turned to Rachel and she lifted her head to look at him. "And you. I'm glad you're okay. To be honest, I was scared something like this would happen someday but thankfully Gar was with you. But if it ever happens again, you go straight to me, got it? You shout, you call, whatever means necessary. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

Rachel gave him a single nod, a soft smile turning her lips upwards.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Dick sighed, finally feeling his anger subsiding and disappearing completely. He pulled back, brushing his palms over the kids' cheeks. He turned to Gar, who again was fiddling with his bangs and reached out to tuck it behind the boy's ear, laughing. "Alright, now let's get you properly patched up, huh? I'm sorry, but whoever did this-" he pointed at the plasters that were barely holding onto the skin. "-did a terrible job."

Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Ouch, harsh."

#dc titans #dick grayson #rachel roth #garfield logan #jason todd #graysonfam #titans #titans season 3 #dcu titans

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