#I didn’t want to pay like ten bucks for it

[pixelbit5]

This is some gift art I did for @starfishart ‘s Cassie’s debut AU featuring an old OC of theirs! Entirely based on an inside joke between the two of us from several years ago. I once again show my love through shitposts

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[orchid3a]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙎, 𝙃𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

―୨୧⋆ ˚ or itadori yuuji proving to be the best boyfriend ever

―୨୧⋆ ˚ content: fem!reader, yuuji and sukuna are twins, yn and sukuna have a beef, mentions of vengeance (yn is going to kill sukuna lol), mentions of flu, yuuji being the greenest green flag ever, nobamaki as hachinana, sukuna's foul language, choso being the older brother, beta-reading (?) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ word count: 1.6k words ―୨୧⋆ ˚ author’s note: woah… it has been a year since i posted a fic of mine lol. well, i just want to start this year popping out my love for itadori yuuji <3, hope you all like this fic, please reblog and comment <3 i have to thank t*kt*k for this idea ―୨୧⋆ ˚ tagging: @blueparadis

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

The only sounds in your room were your sneezes and soft imprecations towards whoever cursed you to stay bedridden on the most important weekend of your nerd life.

The anime convention of the month. You spent so many energies to craft your cosplay, and even managed to make one for your boyfriend, Yuji, so you two could make a couple cosplay. However, here you were, bedridden with a fever of 39°C, while your friends were having fun at the convention.

And you knew who he was, and you would make him pay for his ruining it. You could gamble your allowance that someone was a certain cute pink-haired boy’s twin, a certain mean and annoying twin who hated seeing you and his kind twin happy together.

Your thoughts of vengeance were interrupted, once again, by your nth sneeze, as you sighed loudly, before falling in the soft warmth of the bed. Grumbling, you turn on your side, your hand tasting the night table near your bed. Your fingers met something cold, your phone, as you took it. The screen brightness almost blinded you, you closed your eyes for a few seconds, to make them adjust to the brightness. Once again, you opened it and noticed a few texts from your friends, it seemed that they were having fun at the convention.

Nobara sent you a photo of her and Maki, dressed up as Hachi and Nana from NANA. You almost fawned on how pretty and cool they were, you typed a long message declaring how much you adored and loved their cosplays. You coughed a little, as you saw other messages from your other friends who were there. Honestly, you wanted to cry, it wasn’t fair that they managed to enjoy the convention, while you were in your room coughing and sneezing. You spent days, no weeks, to prepare the perfect cosplay, managing to not spend too much money and sew almost the entirety of the costume, create some of the accessories, and the only thing you had to buy was the wig. You were proud of yourself and your work. Frustrated, you put the phone on the night table once again, before rolling on your side, trying to gain sleep, at least you could do that without coughing or sneezing.

“(-me).”

“(-me).”

You grunted as you rolled in your fuzzy sheets, trying to ignore the voice, however your attempt was a failure as someone stripped them off. Before you could curse him, your eyes met with the brown ones of your boyfriend, Yuji. You blinked a few times, surprised, you didn’t expect to see him, especially after going to the convention for who knew how long. Coughing, you tried to stand up, however, Yuji immediately helped you sit straight and even put a pillow behind your back, so you could stay comfortable. He was such a househusband material, you thought as you coughed one last time.

“Thank you, Yuji.” You thanked him as he gave you the water bottle that was on the nightstand. “Why are you here? Aren’t you tired from the convention?”

The pink-haired boy just grinned at your words, as he proudly showed you three bags, as he put them delicately on your lap. They were quite heavy, and you wondered what it was inside, as you opened one of them and you gasped loudly.

“I was right about you liking my surprise, and now Kusigaki has to give me ten bucks.” He chuckled as he grinned, thinking about the bet he just won, then he pointed to one bag before he added. “I bought you some presents, go on, babe, open them.” He reassured you with the biggest smile ever.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his smile, he sure was able to make you feel better even with just his precious smile. How you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t want to pass him your flu. You cursed your flu once again for taking away from you the possibility to smooch your pretty boyfriend.

Trusting Yuuji’s words, you opened the first bag and a loud gasp, followed by a cough, left your lips, as your eyes widened. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, your head automatically shifted to your boyfriend, as he was grinning at your reaction.

“Then? I bought the right merch~ Yay! And the others didn’t believe me! Ah, serves them right!” The pink-haired boy just smiled as he waited patiently for you to open all your presents.

Your eyes scanned the content of the bag, noticing all the pins, badges, figures, and acrylics of your favourite characters of various animes and video games you mentioned to him. He didn’t forget one character, never in your previous relationship your exes remembered all this information, you were dumbfounded. Your eyes met Yuuji’s brownish ones, and you swore you could read all the excitement he had because of your surprised expression.

“Yuu… How could you remember all my favourite characters? I mean, it’s inhumanly impossible. Are you an alien?” You asked, blinking twice, as you saw his grin becoming ever bigger.

He scratched his neck as he just mumbled. “Well, you showed me so many times their faces that I just remembered them more than my favourite ones. I was sure that you would like them, knowing that you’re stuck to bed because of your flu and not at the convention.”

Your vision started to blur, as tears threatened to run over your cheeks, you couldn’t believe how could you date someone so amazing and loving as Yuuji. He was truly the best boyfriend ever.

The pink-haired man panicked when he saw your tears as he tried to cheer you up the best as he could, while he dried your tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

It took you a few minutes to calm down, and now you were still in the bed, Yuuji with you, as his arms were wrapped around your waist, cheek pressed on top of your head. You tried to stop him, fearing he would get sick, but Yuuji didn’t listen, saying that he couldn’t get sick. After a few more protests, you gave in. How could you say no to him?

While cuddling, you opened the other bags, gasping and thanking profusely Yuuji for the plushes, gadgets and mangas he bought. And of course, you scolded him for spending so much money just for you! You didn’t like that he focused only on you, he should have enjoyed the convention for himself too!

“But I knew that you wanted to go there more than me, of course I had to buy you those things, I didn’t want to see your sad face because you missed out this opportunity.”

You swore your heart was shot by Cupid’s arrow once again, how could Yuuji be so romantic and caring towards you? He was truly a treasure.

A box peeked up from the last bag, your curiosity was picked, as you grabbed the box to discover that it was a Nendoroid. You didn’t recognize the character, nor did you remember ever talking about such anime. Maybe Yuuji watched it, and he just bought it, maybe you could suggest watching it together, so you could understand why he bought that specific character.

Yuuji’s eyes landed on the box in your hands, a sheepish smile blossomed as his cheeks went warm. An embarrassed chuckle left his lips before he took from your hands, before looking fondly at you, then at the character in the box.

“Yuu, why did you buy this character? Do you like her design? I mean, it’s adorable, she looks like a magical girl. “You asked as you looked closely at the character. Only now, you noticed that she had your same hair colour and the same was for her eyes. It was a curious coincidence; however, it wasn’t strange that you shared physical traits with a character, it could happen sometimes.

Yuuji’s smile softened when he saw you looking at the figure, before ruffling sweetly your hair.

“I don’t know her or the anime she is from… I just bought it because she reminds me of you. I thought that if I bought her, I could always have my lovely (Name) always with me, even if you aren’t with me physically.” He concluded, as his cheeks were reddish.

Your heart was once again hit by a Cupid’s arrow as you stared at Yuuji and his red cheeks, and you swore to yourself that sooner or later you would put a damned ring on his finger and marry him.

Suddenly you pulled him in your arms, now your flu the last of your problems, as he was laying on your chest, while you peppered his face with kisses and sweet praises. Yuuji melt in your embrace as he just let you smoother him with affection and physical touches.

And today too, Yuuji proved how much he loved you.

Bonus

A sneeze followed by a cough were enough to anger the fragile temper of a certain pink-haired twin, especially if the disturbance of his pace was his idiotic twin. Sukuna glared at his sick twin, who was laying on the couch, being babied by their older brother, Choso.

Sukuna wondered how stupid Yuuji could be sometimes, as he asked himself how he could be the twin of such an idiot, he was clearly the better one. (Choso may say otherwise, but Sukuna didn’t care)

Another loud sneeze irked Sukuna, as he turned his head towards his twin.“You fucking brat! If you fuck-”

“Sukuna! Language!” Choso screamed.

And another lovely day at the Itadori household began like that.

[theemporium]

ESP bc he seems so peaceful that you’d never expect him to fight🤭🤭🤭🤭 kinda like lando

also can we talk ab him getting into a bar fight for you🤭🤭🤭🤭

no because you put this in my head and i just had to write a wee blurb because i couldn't stop thinking about it🫠

.

“Pay up, Moosey.”

“This is exploitation.”

“It’s called a bet and you lost,” you corrected before flashing him an innocent grin. “I won fair and square, don’t be a sore loser.”

Luke rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket. He made a point of exaggerating the sigh that left his lips as he slapped the twenty dollars in your palm.

Jack watched the interaction with interest. “What bet? Why was I not involved?”

“Luke and I made a bet before the game,” you said with a casual shrug as you leaned back into Jack’s embrace, his arm thrown over your shoulder. “Twenty bucks that you’d score the majority of the goals tonight.” 

“And she was right,” Luke muttered. 

“I have faith in my man,” you stated simply, turning to see Jack grinning wildly. 

“My favourite fan,” he murmured before he tilted your chin back so he could lean down to kiss you, his lips breaking out into a smile against yours.

“Oh gross!” 

After a string of difficult games and long roadies, the Devils were back in Jersey and had managed to win their first home game in a while. The boys were on a high, your boyfriend especially after scoring two of the three goals tonight, and you had all but been dragged out with the rest of the team to a nearby bar to celebrate. 

Not that you minded. You were on that high as well, seeing your boyfriend smile widely and easily for the first time in a long time after a game made you eager to celebrate as well. And the bar was local, only about a ten minute walk from Jack and Luke’s apartment which meant none of you had to worry about playing the designated driver.

You could just curl up beside your boyfriend, have a few drinks and celebrate what would hopefully be the start of a string of wins. 

“Let me out,” you murmured against your boyfriend’s lips. “I wanna go buy some outrageously fancy cocktail with Luke’s money to piss him off.”

Jack snorted as he slid out the booth, holding your hand to help you out. “You want me to come with?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him before you pushed your way through the crowd, making your way towards the bar at the other end of the establishment. 

And it should have been fine. You managed to find a free spot at the bar to lean against the counter, your fingers aimlessly tapping the wood as you placed your order and patiently waited for your drink to be made. But it was busy and the place was a little crowded, and you found yourself being pushed by a few other patrons who were just walking past, and bumping into a man standing beside you.

“Sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile as you tried to move away, back into the spot you were standing in moments ago. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” the man smiled back. He was older than you, maybe by a decade or so. And he looked friendly until his arm wound itself around your waist. “You don’t have to move away soon.”

“Uh,” you let out a nervous laugh as you tried to wiggle yourself out of his grasp. “No, I’m fine over here. Please move your arm.”

“Don’t be like that,” the man laughed as his arm tightened around you, and a wave of panic hit you.

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you told him firmly, still trying to push his hand off you.

“Yeah, a sweet thing like you oughta be locked up,” he said like he didn’t really believe you, like he was playing along with some joke you didn’t get.

Your chest tightened in panic, a cold shiver running down your spine when you realised this man wasn’t just going to let you go. Your eyes darted around for a bartender but they were all busy before you glanced over to the booth the team were sitting at, hoping to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

But he was no longer sat at the booth, because not even a few seconds later he was pushing through the crowd and making a beeline towards where you stood with the man.

“Let go of her,” Jack said, his voice oddly calm as he approached.

“She’s fine where she is, kid,” the older man laughed, almost mockingly.

“I’m gonna give you one more chance,” Jack stated simply. “Let her go.”

The man scoffed, lifting his chin. “Or what? What’s a pretty boy like you gonna do?” 

You barely had a chance to catch yourself when Jack ripped the man’s arm off you, causing you to stumble a few steps towards the bar. By the time you caught your footing and turned around, Jack had already punched the man until he was hunched over, clutching his bloody nose. 

He shoved the man until he lifted his head before he swung again, and you swore you could hear a crack despite the music and chatter sounding through the bar. 

Your lips parted in shock as Jack swung the third and final punch and knocked the guy out before he could even think about swinging back. You looked at your boyfriend—your sweet boyfriend who didn’t even fight on the ice when he was egged on and chirped at by other players—who was now looking at the man like he was almost disappointed that he went down without much of a fight. Bartenders and security were flocking around the scene, words muttered about first aid kits and ambulances and all sorts, but Jack didn’t even say a word as he turned to look for you. 

His face instantly softened the second he saw you and he was rushing over before security could even try to stop him. His hands softly cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over the apple of your cheeks as he gave you a once over.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a gentle voice, a crease forming between his brows. “Did he hurt you at all? Do you need—”

“I’m fine, Jack,” you murmured as you wound your arms around his waist, nuzzling yourself against his chest. “Thank you.”

“Always,” Jack whispered as his arms tightened around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Do you wanna go or stay?”

“You guys won,” you mumbled into his chest. “You should celebrate with the boys.”

“The boys aren’t my priority right now. You are.” Jack said as he pulled back enough to look down at you. “Say the word and we can head back to the flat and just chill for the rest of the night.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “It’s fine, Jack.”

“Nope, you’ve used my actual name twice in the last three minutes which means you’re upset,” Jack concluded before leaning down to press a peck to your forehead. “Let’s say bye to the boys and head out.”

“Jack—”

“I don’t wanna stay anyways,” he said with a shrug. “I’d rather spend a night in with you anyways.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you’re not just saying that?”

“I promise, baby,” he murmured softly. “As much as I love fighting for your honour, I’d rather go home and watch Cars.”

You laughed softly. “Cars marathon?” 

“You read my mind,” Jack grinned. “Plus, I think I need ice for my knuckles. That dude had a hard face.”

This time you snorted, and the sound made his grin widen. You gently lifted his hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles before you looked up at him with a smile.

“Thank you for being my knight in shining armour,” you mused with a teasing grin.

“Anytime, princess,” he retorted with a matching smile.

.

[rotten-pomegranate]

Good morning 🌞, since requests are open, can I please get head cannon ask for how the adult trio with feitan, shalnark and phinks would react if reader successfully escaped them for years. Please I want reader to win just once 😭🙏🏾

Yes you can 💪🏻

I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to catch you in the end but I made like that

Warnings: mentions of torture, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Feitan

Feitans gonna be pissed and offended that you have so little respect for him you escaped and when he finds you it’s hell

you should have killed yourself when you got away because the things he’s gonna do to you and Any friends you made along the way will make death seem like the better option by a lot

You don’t get any privileges your always chained up and you only get enough food and water to survive

He was being nice before, holding himself back, but not anymore now he does anything and everything he wants

Shalnark

He’s gonna be sad he knows he wasn’t the best but was he that bad?

He’s gonna track you down eventually, probably one of the quickest to find you, I’m talking three years or so

When he finds you he just mocks you, like you really thought he wouldn’t find you how cute

He’s gonna stick you with antenna a lot more often to make you do stuff you would never willingly do and he’s gonna make sure you remember every bit of it

Phinks

He’s heartbroken, you didn’t love him? Sure he kidnapped you but he was so nice, he got you gifts, fed you, never forced you to do anything and he let you do whatever you wanted in the fairly big house (he’s a but Delusional)

He’s a close second to shalnark when it comes to finding you in sense of time give or take about three and a half years

When he does find you he’s not gonna be as nice as he was before, your not gonna get sweet little gifts or the privilege to go around the house freely and he’s not gonna brush off your attitude anymore, from now on your getting locked away when you give him any sass

Chrollo

even though he tried his hardest to prevent it He knew it would happen eventually, he let his guard slip gave you to much freedom

It’s gonna take him about five years to find you because he has to focus on other stuff such as the troupe

When he gets you back your never gonna see the light of day again, your locked I and chained In his basement from now on and while it’s a nice basement with carpeted floors, a nice bathroom and a big bed with lots of fluffy blankets that he often joins you in your only there for his pleasure now

He regularly pins you down and forces you to do stuff that he didn’t make you do before whispering how it Could be different the whole time

Illumi

Illumi is savage, has every person in the zoldyck manor out looking for you and that intensity doesn’t go down if anything it gets worse the longer it takes to find you

It’ll take him about four years to find you and when he does your in for it

First he’s gonna beat you black and blue, he’s gonna break both you legs in the process and that’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to see a doctor about

He’s gonna try and get you pregnant as soon as he can and if you where kicking and screaming before he would have stopped but not anymore now your getting tied to the bed frame and having a gag in your mouth

Hisoka

He’s the calmest out of all of them, he knew it would happen, he’s not happy about it but he’s not a total mess like some of these guys

It’s not his top priority to find you but it is up there, so it’s gonna take him about seven years to find you

When he finds you your getting the beating of a life time, I’m talking broken ribs, and kicked out teeth, he will pay machi to come fix you up but he might do it again if you annoy him

He didn’t hit you before but he does now, oh you dropped a glass worth ten bucks? Your getting smacked up side the head

And lastly from now on when you sleep it’s on the cold ground with a chain leash attached to his bed frame around your neck no more comfortable pillows

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Triple Frontier Masterlist

[finelinevogue]

distant promises

summary - Bucky has been on a mission for a long time and you miss him

warnings: insomnia, long-distance relationship, swearing, Christmas sadness (only slightly)

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

word count: 2k

Bucky had been gone for 6 months now.

He was currently on a mission in the French Alps, taking down some military base that had connections to HYDRA. The mission meant a lot to him, not thanks to having been tested on and tortured with over a multitude of years. It had taken him a while to be comfortable with who he was and rid himself of the Winter Soldier. You could see him coming accepting himself for who he truly was more each day. He wasn't afraid of who he was anymore and it was an honour to have helped him through that. 

It was currently 1 in the morning and you still had yet to fall asleep. You had been finding it harder and harder to fall asleep as the months went by without Bucky. It certainly didn't help that you were taking extra shifts at Starbucks, in order to pay off some debts you owed to banks and Bucky. 

Bucky kept telling you to cut back on the shifts and let him pay off some of your debts you owed him too much already that you couldn’t justify anymore. 

So insomnia it was.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

Turning in bed to check your phone, you started scrolling through your Instagram to like photos on your dashboard. There were some pictures of friends who were out clubbing, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lung. There were also some celebrities posting magazine shoots and as always there were the cat accounts that you religiously followed.

You were scrolling and liking for about ten minutes before you had an incoming call from Bucky.

"Hey Buck." You sounded surprised that he'd called you. Normally it was too risky to call since he didn’t want anyone to track his phone and give away his location, but here he was.

"Hi babe." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"What's up?" You asked as you snuggled further under the warmth of your fresh, clean, duvet.

"I saw you were active on Instagram, but I know it’s really early morning where you are so I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?" 

Knowing that Bucky kept tabs on what time it was where you were was just one of the small things he did which meant a whole lot more than anything his money could buy you. 

"Yeah everything's good.” Buck stayed silent as you answered, knowing there was more to it. “It’s, um, just that I wish you were here with me." 

"Oh darling, I miss you so much. I promise you it won't be long before I see you next." Now it was your turn to remain silent. "Y/N? Please don't cry darling." 

“Sorry.” You sniffled, getting yourself worked up over something so trivial.

"Hey, no. Don’t apologise. I have to go really soon love, but I'm not going to hang up until I know you're alright."

"No need to worry about me Buck. I'll be alright." You tried to say as happily as possible, but you knew Bucky would catch on that what you were saying was far from the truth. 

"Babe, you know I worry about you constantly." He laughed.

“Like literally ALL the time.” You heard Sam shout in the background, making you laugh.

"Is Sam there?" You asked Bucky.

“Yeah. Y’wanna say hi?”

"Mhm." 

"Y/N I can’t deal with this emotional softie anymore." Sam said without a hello.

“Emotional softie? Are we sure we’re talking about the same man?” You teased Bucky, knowing that he most likely had you on speaker phone.

“The bionic-dude right?” Sam made himself laugh and you heard a grunt from what sounded like Bucky punching Sam. You rolled your eyes over their stupid playfulness, before Bucky came back to the phone.

"Yeah, that's enough of that.”

“Surprised you two have kept each other alive.” You laughed to Bucky, eyes feeling heavier now that you’d safely heard from him.

“Barely.” You shuffled again in bed. “Okay darling, I have to go now. As much as I don't want to I'm gonna have to love you and leave you. Just promise me you'll try and get some sleep?"

“As long as you promise to come home for Christmas.”

"I promise." 

“Then I promise too.”

"I love you." Bucky just kissed the microphone to make it sound like he was really kissing you. You kissed yours back and you both stayed on the phone for another minute as you wrapped up your goodbye, before you attempted some better sleep.

•••••

Needless to say, when you woke up the next morning you felt awful.

There was still no surprise Bucky waking up next to you. There was a lack of smell on his side of the bed where he should be sleeping. There was no mess on his side of the room or whistling from a silly tune he’d make up. 

It was going to be another day without him and with only a few days until Christmas, you were starting to lose hope on spending it with him. 

Your scheduled alarm went off at 7am for your morning shift. You aspired to open up your own cafe one day and so you wanted to get the knowledge of how business operates and be able to tackle customer experience first hand. That’s why you worked in Starbucks. You were also taking an online degree in finance and business, to help you for when you open your cafe.

You got ready by putting on your black jeans and the Starbucks t-shirt. You threw on your basic vans and grabbed your bag before going out the front door to work. Starbucks was about a 30 minute walk from your shared house. Normally Bucky would drive you, because that's the gentleman he is, but because he hasn't been here you've been walking to work. It’s mostly a pleasant walk, but you hate having so much time to yourself and your thoughts.

Your manager told you that you'd be managing the shop floor today, meaning you had to give all the employees individual jobs, whilst help make the drinks and also be in charge of the tills’ money. It was going to be a stressful, but worth the experience. 

Plus, anything to keep your mind off Bucky and how he was doing

It had been about 2 hours into your shift and you'd managed to get through with no complaints, so you’d given yourself a break. You weren’t feeling hungry just yet though, so you just got a cappuccino and went into the back office for your 20 minute break.

Not even 3 minutes into your break one of the employees came in.

"Hi Y/N. Sorry to disturb you but there's a customer out front who wants a manager to complain to." 

This was a reason why you didn’t want to be a manager all the time, because you were really bad for getting upset when someone shouted at you. 

"Ok. Thanks Nina. I'll be there in 2 seconds." You wiped your hand around your mouth to make sure there's no froth left behind and then went back out front. "Nina, where are they?" You asked her, as you couldn't see anyone obvious who looked like they wanted to complain.

"Umm..." She scanned the room. "Oh, that gentleman sat by the window over there." She pointed to a man who had his hoodie slightly pulled up and was looking out the window. 

Walking over, you wiped your clammy hands on your red apron because as much as you put on a brave face sometimes social interactions gave you anxiety. You took a deep breathe before being prepared to get screamed at. Why anyone would want to scream and shout this close to Christmas you didn’t understand. Where was the Christmas joy? 

"Hi. I'm Y/N. My colleague said you had a complaint?" You asked politely. 

"Yeah I just wanted to complain that this cup of coffee is not nearly as good as the one that my girlfriend makes at home. So, why is that?" He turned around to you and took down the hood from his head and sunglasses off to look directly at you.

You took a step back, reaching for the counter to support yourself from fainting in disbelief.

Bucky was in your Starbucks making a "complaint".

You covered your face with your hands as you sunk down to the floor crying. You were so shocked that he was actually here that you didn't even know how to act. He laughed at as he stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to where you were crouched down on the floor.

You stood up and looked around to see customers and colleagues smiling and Nina was filming the whole thing. "You knew! Oh for fuck sake!" You cry-laughed, as you pointed at Nina.

"Surprise?" 

You just shook your head. You could hear Bucky laughing at the whole situation - a laugh that you'd missed more than you'd allowed yourself to believe.

"Do I not get an ecstatic run, jump and a hug from my girlfriend?" Bucky joked, holding his arms wide open for you to be engulfed in.

"You're a knob!" You joked at him, shaking your head because you couldn't get over he was actually in front of you.

"Sam said you'd say that!" 

You slapped your hand on your forehead when you actually realised what was going on. "What the actual fuck? You're really here?"

"I'm worried it's taken you this long to realise it, darling!" His arms were still wide open. 

You laughed as you ran and jumped into his warm and loving embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, whilst he wrapped his arms firmly around your waist to support you from falling. You started to cry again whilst inhaling his sweet cinnamon scent. He just smelt like home. "I'm going to have go on missions more often if it means I can surprise you like this!" He said, but you were too busy crying over the fact your best friend was back in your arms.

"You're actually here." You whispered into his neck.

"I am, love. I am right here." He whispered back to you, pressing a multitude of kisses to the side of your face. "I'm always going to be here." You didn't care that he was being the stereotypical smushy boyfriend, right now you were just glad you were back with each other.

You let each other go. Bucky wiped your tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed your forehead.

"I've still got like 2 hours of my shift left." You said, wondering what he's going to do now.

"Yeah, fuck no. I spoke to your manager and she was more than happy for you to go home early. With me, obviously." 

"Really?" Your eyes lit up over the thought of spending the rest of the day glued next to him.

"Let's go home and get some well deserved sleep for a change." He took your hand and squeezed it, just once more for reassurance that he was home with you.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#367

“That’s it?  That’s all you have to say?  Seriously?  You call me in on my day off.  I cancel my afternoon with my Marine buddies at the lake.  Ok fine, I’ll catch up with them later.  I drive twenty minutes to get here.  There’s hardly anybody else around.  I come over and you want to talk about landscaping this back region, something that could have waited until Monday?  Really?  I thought considering what happened yesterday that you would be asking to give me a blowjob or something….

“…Oh for fuck’s sake!  Do not fucking pretend that you and I weren’t at Ruby’s bookstore yesterday at the same time.  You and I were in the last two booths on opposite sides of a good sized glory hole.  You sucked my dick for fifteen minutes, edging me a couple times.  You whispered, ‘Let me lick your ass.’  You did just that when I turned and offered my crack for your tongue.  Then I flooded your mouth with my usual massive load.  Now do you remember?

“Good.  You can knock this coy shit off.  You called me to come in, brought me to the back part of the property where no one ever goes, in hopes of doing what?  Did you think that we would play strip parchesi?

“I get it.  You want me to do this, to take the initiative.  You want me to ask for a blow job?  You don’t have the balls to ask yourself. 

“For fuck’s sake.  There’s no need for me to ask you.  You are a fucking cock hound.  Yeah, you may have a wife, three kids in a ten-bedroom house on twenty-four acres, with a detached five-car garage with a two bedroom mother-in-law suite above it, a vacation home in the Virgin Islands, a mid-seven-figure job, and yet you drive half an hour to the nasty industrial part of town to suck rank blue collar dick at a glory hole at Ruby’s bookstore.

“The thing is that you clearly have been doing it for a long time.  That wasn’t a casual blow job you gave me.  You knew how to manage my fat sausage, like an expert.  Your tongue never stopped hitting my sensitive spot.  You throated me with a mild struggle, but you didn’t give up.  And then, you knew how to read my cock to sense when I was getting close in order to edge me properly.

“So how long have you been sucking dick?...  Junior high?  Wow.  Let me guess.  It was some blue-collar factory worker.  Probably some big and beefy guy like me.  Was it?... Thought so.

“Henry, the guy working the front counter who I have known for years—fucked him a few times—told me that you are a regular, and you pay him a hundred bucks to direct the big guys your way.  That’s kinda bold.  Hell, that’s how I wound up at your hole.

“I’m surprised I didn’t pick up your sperm burping vibes until now.  When I came out of the booth yesterday, you threw open your door to see whose dick you had been sucking.  Once we made eye contact, your face went from curious, to excited, and finally to panicked all in one second.  You bolted out of there so fast.

“So here we are….  …Faggot?  What do you want to do?  Your silence is not going to get you my dick in your mouth.  You want my dick?  Tell me….

“…No, no, no.  I know if I were to whip my cock out that you would be on your knees throating me down in no time flat.  No, I am asking do you want my dick in your life?… To rule your life?

“Good.  What about my ass?  Your tongue liked the sweaty musk.  You must be an ass eater too.  You want to worship my shithole too?...

“Cunt, I better start hearing some ‘Sir’s’ after the yes’s and no’s you give.  You understand?...

“That’s better.  I have been using men for my own thing for decades.  You ain’t the first closeted faggot I have come across.  I have worked this situation before.

“Look I work for you whenever anyone else is around, but when we are alone together, I own you.  I’m Sir to you, and you will be Cunt or Faggot.  I will be calling the shots here.  We’ll work out more later. 

“When was the last time you had a man use your cunt?...  That long?  You may not be a virgin, but you will offer the same tightness.  Get naked….

“…You don’t do anal?  I don’t care.  You need to be cunted.  You’re gonna be cunted.  Naked. Now!...  Cunt, I expect you to do what I say, without hesitation.  That’s better. 

“You need to realize that I fully know how to work with a closet case.  Yeah, we are here on a Saturday, when none of my guys are here, we are in the back of your property where no one goes, and most importantly Sarah’s SUV is gone.  Considering you are back here about to be cunted, it’s safe to say that she has the kids.  How long is she gone?... 

“All day?  Well hot damn!  Walk with me.  No, leave your clothes there.  You need to be exposed for a bit….  In the middle of the field here. 

“On your knees.  Your goal is to put as much throat slime as you can on my dick.  That’s the only lube I’m going to use.  Reach up, unzip me, and take it out.  Balls too.

“This is the cock that is going to rule you.  I don’t care how many other dicks you suck, my dick is the one at the center of your universe.  Suck.

“Ahh,… That’s the tongue I remember.  Mmmm.  This is the kind of a blowjob I like at the end of a hard day.  One that I can unwind with.  That’s why I stopped at Ruby’s last night.  But today, I’m in control.  Hands behind you and keep them there.  All the way down to the root.  All… the… way… down! 

“When I put my hand on your head, I’m in control of the blowjob.  You dedicate that airway to me.  Gag motherfucker.  Gagging only puts more throat lube on my dick.  I’m going to give you a minute to really lube me up.

“…Struggle with that fat cock.  I would have expected a more experienced deeper throat.  We’ll get that trained right.  Blowjobs when the man is in control are a lot different, hunh?

“…Ok turn around.  On your knees….  Don’t worry while we are out in the open, no one is here.  Knees spread.  Shoulders on the ground.  Arms at your side.  Palms by your knees and face up. 

“This is how to present a cunt for a cunting.  And what a pretty pussy it is.  So pretty, that I think you earned an extra glob of spit.  There.

“Scream fucker.  I always go right to the root.  No fucking countdown.  No time to accommodate.  Oh, fuck you are tight.  Man.  This cunt is mine now.  I decide what to do with it.  We are going to have some fun. 

“You like blue collar men?  Cunt, I am going to whore you out to some nasty big brutes.  I know places where cunts are used and tossed aside.  There are a few rest stops on the interstate, some truck stop with old school showers, there’s even a mechanic shop I know with a nasty bathroom around back.  I can’t wait to transform this cunt a perpetual sloppy mess. 

“Remember I told you I was going to the lake with my Marine buds?  We are all hard-working men who enjoy using cunt fags.  That’s why we go to the lake, to use them hard.  If you think you can get away from the family for an overnight, we’ll go up there later today.

“Oh there you go.  Now keep that cunt relaxed.  Tightness is hot in the beginning, but ultimately, I like it sloppy.  Oh man.  I’m getting close.  Fucking close.  This cunt was made for my dick.  Here it cums!  Here it fucking cums!  Ahhhh!  Ahhhh!

“Goddamn.  Cunt, you may give great blowjobs, but this cunt is gold.

“When I pull out, your mouth will move to clean me up.  If you want to jack off while doing it, go for it. 

“…Oh look, there’s a little blood mixed in with my load.  A tiny skid mark.  It all goes in your mouth….  Fuck!  Does that feel good. 

“Ok Cunt.  This is what’s going to happen.  I will rule your cunt, your dick, your mouth, basically you.  I don’t care if you still go to Ruby’s to suck on more blue collar dick.  I’m not that kind of possessive.  But when I want your holes, I want them now.  I understand there is the wife thing.  I can work around that. 

“I want to know all details of all the loads you take.  If you spend an afternoon at the glory holes, I want to know how many cocks did you suck, and how many loads did you swallow.  You’ll have a tracker on your phone so I know where you are at all times. 

“Getting away to service me is going to require some changes from you.  The one that pops into mind is get Sarah’s goddamned yoga studio out from over the garage.  I’m going to move in there.  It makes sense to have me on grounds in general, but now I will have a room nearby for my cock to enjoy some nearby cunt.

“I will also accept a raise.  If I’m going to be fucking you, it will cost extra.  Yeah that makes me a whore, but I’m fine with that. 

“Now we get to the part of the conversation where you realize just how much you are owned by me.  You know Ruby’s has hidden cameras throughout their booths?  No?  Not many are aware.  Henry showed me a few very clear videos of you going to town on some rather big dicks.  I have copies on my phone….

“No, no, keep cleaning the mess you left on my cock.  I can show the videos to you later.  My buds at the lake will definitely appreciate seeing them.  You know, having it on my phone, I can show them to anyone.

“If you think that our relationship is going to be all fucking and sucking, I’ve only just begun.  I keep telling you that I own you; I really do fucking own you.

“OMG are you cumming?...  Fuck yeah!...  You are a sick faggot!”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 24

Tyler Durden and Jack “The Narrator” + masks and/or helmets

I’m sorry to anyone who was hoping for Jason Vorhees, but I’ve been watching my comfort movie (fight club) to destress from my assignments, so I got in the mood to write for these two.

Tyler is his own person in this, cuz I want both to go down on me at the same time, thats the only reason.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Welding had never been your plan for a job, especially not where you found yourself now. Low ranked and forced to do all the shit work your jackass boss couldn’t be assed to do, leaving you alone in the construction yard in the middle of the night, the welding tool hot and dangerous in your gloved hands as it cast an almost evil glow upon your welding helmet, the light reflecting off the glass that covered your eyes.

Imagine your surprise some group of jackasses show up at your construction site. They seemed surprised to see you as you turned around and slid up the front of your helmet to look at them, but the bags under your eyes and the dead look in them seemed to make them see you as one of their own. One of them was even polite enough to ask if they could use the yard for some kind of weird orgy club they had going on, or at least you thought it was an orgy club.

You shrugged and told them if they gave you fifty bucks a night, they could kill a guy there and you wouldn’t give a shit. Hey, there were at least ten guys, they could cough up five dollars each if they wanted to start wailing on each other as you worked.

This continued, multiple nights a week, because of course your shithead boss had you working extremely late hours every day for shit pay, and because of your lack of education and shitty upbringing you couldn’t just drop the job. The fifty bucks a night did help quite a lot, and at some point you didn’t even need to do all that extra work, but you kinda enjoyed watching all these pathetic meatheads and self-proclaiming alpha-males trying to show off just how tough they were by beating on each other.

You never took part in it, but “the guy in the welder helmet runs the place” became some kind of rumour, just because they paid you to let them use the place. Apparently, you not doing any of the fighting made them think you were some kind of bigshot, a member of “project mayhem”, whatever that was.

It might also have been the muscle you had packed on from years of physical labour and your less then friendly attitude that made them think you were more then you were. But hey, you kept welding, but kept half an eye on the group of blood thirsty men, a group that only seemed to grow every night. So much for an “exclusive” group.

One day some guy with ugly spiked hair and a douchey red leather jacket swaggered his way over to you as you half-assed a weld between a couple of pipes. He had a cigarette hanging between his lips, like a real asshole, as he leaned against the pipe you were trying to weld, messing up your already shitty work. You could do a lot better, but you were in no way paid enough to care.

You could tell he was trying to antagonise you, as he would start showing up every night this so-called fight club happened, always trying to push your buttons, and even once putting out his cigarette against the one way glass protecting your eyes.

You were great at ignoring fools like him, so none of his actions got the reaction he seemed so starved for. The one that really caught your attention was this scrawnier guy, who looked like he hadn’t slept in months. It was like watching a corpse walking around, but something unleashed inside him when he fought. It was like a rabid dog with a piece of meat, it made your insides boil.

It was him that finally got you to join the fight, though you spat at their rules, keeping your welding helmet on, because why not, it looked sexy. You could definingly tell your years of labour had served you well from the way some of the guys around the place were looking at you, like they wanted to fight you or fuck you, maybe both.

The sleep deprived corpse, who you later learned was named Jack, tried his damn best to get the upper hand on you. But your uncle used to breed pitbulls and other types of large fighting dogs, so scruffing him and putting him in the ground was too damn easy. The erection on his pants wasn’t hard to see either, but you’d seen enough of this circle-jerk of a club to know it was normal, adrenaline, they always said.

You honestly had no idea how you found yourself in the situation you would find yourself in weeks later. You had finally started taking part in a couple of fights, but the helmet always stayed on no matter how much anyone complained, and you only really cared to fight Jack.

Even when the fucker in the red leather jacket whined and draped himself across you. You learned he was Tyler Durden, apparently him and Jack created this Fight Club junk. Tyler annoyed you though, always talking about society and changing it, you had clocked him once when he just wouldn’t shut up.

One day you found yourself packing down your gear, fight club had ended early today for some reason, you didn’t pay attention to that stuff, you were just there for a show. Tyler had been the first to pull up on you, Jack following not far behind, and when you had grunted what they wanted, Tyler had pounced like an overexcited puppy.

He had started licking the helmet you wore, his spit streaking across the glass of your mask, his breath leaving a foggy texture against it as you gripped onto his jaw, your work rough hands gripping hard enough to definitely leave a bruise.

Tyler was groaning like hed been shot, moaning something about how hot that stupid helmet was, and how sexy you were because you never took it off. You almost threw him across the yard when you felt hands undoing your belt. Snapping your head down you saw Jack on his knees in front of you, he had a busted lip and a black eye, but it somehow added to his charm.

His lips were soft, and his tongue was slightly hesitant as he started sucking you off, Tyler groaning and panting into the metal of your helmet, that was close to where your mouth would have been. You could feel him slobbering all over you, his tongue probably picking up all the grime the helmet had collected over the many weeks you’d gone without cleaning it.

Tylers slobbering was starting to get annoying, so with a grunt you gripped kicked his knees out from under him, making him crash to his knees with a painful crack against the pavement. His eyes seemed to lock on where Jack had been licking and almost worshipping your cock with his mouth, spit and drool dripping off of you and his mouth as he looked up at you with large blown pupils.

Tyler, the attention starved fool he was quickly butted in, his higher skilled tongue started to lap at the base of your length, even ducking in between your thighs to mouth as your sack. You couldn’t help but snort as you ran your gloved fingers through Jacks short hair in an almost loving manner, whilst also gripping and twisting in Tylers gelled hair with the other hand.

Something about seeing their reflection in the reflective glass of your welding helmet only seemed to excitement further, especially Tyler as he drooled, barely even seeming to make an inkling of an effort to keep spit in his mouth. Jack seemed at least a little shy about it, avoiding looking at himself but somehow always ending back at his reflection.

You didn’t tell them you were close, but they seemed to notice from how your hips twitching or your grunting grew rougher. Tyler almost shoved Jack aside to start tonguing at your tip right beside Jack, their tongues rubbing up against each other around your tip in some kind of French kiss.

Tyler had been moaning and groaning loudly the entire time, seemingly getting off at the volume of his noises, where Jack had been more subdued but still present. There was almost a battle of their tongues as you came, spurting white across wet wiggling muscles that tried to catch as much of it as possible.

Surprisingly, or maybe not to surprising, Tyler roughly grabbed Jack and started making out with him like he was trying to swallow him whole when you finished, swapping the mixture of spit and cum between them like a pair of starved animals. You scoffed a small laugh at the sight of them almost humping each other as they kept rubbing their tongues together obscenely, and here you thought Fight Club was a good show.

Tucking yourself back into your pants, you patted them both on the head to get their attention. When they finally pulled away from their sloppy sorry excuse of a kiss to look up at you, you pushed up the welders’ helmet and looked at them, quirking a questioning brow.

That seemed to be enough to get them going, the two almost skittering after you as you started trekking back to your bucket of a car to head home, your roommate would have to put up with the noises you knew you were gonna rip out of those two, so what if you had to keep the helmet on, they were right, it was kinda hot.

[hom3landr]

Movie Night

18+

An earnest attempt to share the Halloween spirit with your ungrateful boyfriend backfires

You’re trying to concentrate on the screen where Michael Myers peers ominously through some bedsheets, the sharp sting of the music cue not even registering over the buzzing in your ears. Your nails dig into the rich leather of the sofa as your chest heaves. You’re not even halfway through the movie and the tension is already enough to have your heart pounding wildly out of your chest.

Your free hand leaves the bucket of popcorn to tangle in the hair of the man between your legs, leaving streaks of butter through his golden strands.

He promised that he’d behave while you showed him your favorite horror films but you should have known better than that. The moment he said he was bored, you should have realized that it was all over. It didn’t matter that the two of you were only ten minutes into the film. You’d joke that him being no better than an ipad kid, completely unable to stay focused, but it wasn’t a screen that held his ravenous attention. With every gripe about how nothing had happened yet, he’d carefully adjust his position on the couch. From cuddling with his arm around you to resting on his knees with your legs perched on his pompous golden eagles, he’d managed to make the transition so smooth that it wasn’t until he slowly began rolling your underwear down your legs that you’d realized his plot.

Now here you are, just innocently trying to show your boyfriend your favorite movie, but ruthlessly made to writhe in pleasure as he devoured you with a single minded hunger. Maybe you should have had a showing of Silence of the Lambs instead, with how hungry he was for your flesh. You want to complain but every gripe was replaced with a choked whimper.

“You’re missing it.” You manage to hiss. He just chuckles into your cunt.

“Babe…this movie has been going on forever and only one person has died. It’s gonna have to get a lot bloodier if you want me to pay attention.” He follows it up with a hearty lap through your folds, amused by the way you twitch as he flicks his tongue over your clit. You huff in a mixture of lust and righteous indignation.

“It’s the tension! This movie is a masterclass in suspense! That’s why it works.” You try to argue despite Homelander not easing up on his endeavor at all. Your hips buck and he holds you down with the gentleness of a feather but the strength of a titan. You’re not moving unless he wants you to. After all, you’re the one who made him stop his business to watch the damn movie. You’re going to stay put.

“Hmmm…so what I’m hearing is that you like being kept in suspense. Maybe I should keep you from coming until something in this movie finally fucking happens.” He smirks before looking up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes. You swallow nervously at the look he’s giving you.

“FINE! But when it ramps up, it’s gonna ramp up quickly. You’ll be the one looking stupid when you realize how freaky this movie really is.” You retort, bumping him in the side of the head with your knee petulantly. He doesn’t even flinch. He just fucks you with his tongue till your legs lock up.

“In that case, I guess I’ll have to keep making you come until the movie slows back down. Either way, I’m going to be entertaining myself.” He purrs in a tone that is infuriatingly smug.

You’re not even sure which is worse, that he never even bothers to watch the movie, or that you’ll never be able to pay attention during it ever again.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: Movie nights with Bucky were always fun. But after a special viewing of Wonder Woman, you realized just how much you love him.

Warnings: Lightest mention of Bucky’s HYDRA days, non-detailed mention of flashbacks, panic attacks, and nightmares. Mentions of WW1. DC movies? This is really just fluff. Let me know if there are any spelling or grammar issues, sometimes I struggle lmao.

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

“Come on, don’t be a wuss. It’s just a movie.” Tony groaned as you began to stand up from the couch.

“Ugh, not interested. This is..sickening. At best.” You retorted. Tony had decided that putting on Marathon Man was a good idea. The teeth drilling scene was clearly making Bucky uncomfortable, and you wanted to avoid that as much as you could. You pulled him off the couch, and that’s when Tony decided to open his mouth.

“Your loss.” He shrugged as you led Bucky upstairs to your room.

“Wanna watch something that’s not from the 70’s?” You offered, and Bucky just shrugged.

“I’m sorry. About..all of this.” He apologized.

“Buck, it’s really not a big deal. I didn’t like that either. Yuck.” You assured, giving his hand a light squeeze.

“How about Wonder Woman?” You suggested.

You and Bucky often watched a movie before you went to bed, and after enough complaining from Stark about you falling asleep on the couch, he’d bought you a TV to put in your room. He’d gotten one to put in Bucky’s room too, knowing that you alternated which room the two of you would sleep in.

Bucky had agreed to watch Wonder Woman with you, and you grinned as you cuddled into his side. Often, you’d pick the movie, or at least give him options to choose from. He preferred it that way, and if he saw something that looked interesting, he’d tell you. You’d found a routine in it all, and Bucky liked routines.

“She always creeps me out, every time I watch this movie.” You murmured once Dr. Poison appeared. It was always the scene with that gas mask that made your legs feel hollow. The little scream that the man would make when she’d rip it off him always made you shut your eyes tight.

“I get why.” Bucky mumbled into your hair, his arm around you. Some movies and shows had scenes that were a bit much for him, but for the most part he didn’t mind scary characters or moments.

When the two of you he watched Stranger Things together, there were a few parts where you had to skip to the next scene. Bucky always felt guilty over it, but you always assured him that it really didn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Nothing that came with being in a relationship with Bucky ever bothered you. Not the nightmares or the flashbacks. Panic attacks, trust issues, paranoia, and dealing with post-mission symptoms. None of it bothered you. Ever. You loved Bucky. Nothing could change that.

“Was it like this?” You asked, halfway through the movie.

“What?” He glanced down at you.

“This movie’s set in World War 1. I know you were born in 1917—but do the costumes look right?” You wondered.

Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly as he remembered to all the way back then. “I think so. But this is in London, right?”

You nodded, smiling at the fact that he’d been paying attention. “Yeah. I don’t know. I was just curious.” You admitted sheepishly, looking down at your hand, which rested on Bucky’s chest.

“What was dating like?” You asked after a moment.

“Well..if it was today all the way back then..” Bucky took a second to think. You looked up at him, a small smile on your face.

“I would’ve taken you out to the Stark Expo, after making sure your family at least tolerated me. And then we’d go dancing together, until nine. Maybe even ten, if I was bold enough. Then I’d take you home. I’d say good night to you at your door, before giving you a small kiss.” He explained. You imagined it, and your entire body felt warm.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.” You whisper, making sure to make eye contact.

“I love you too.”

“I think there’s another show we should watch.” You said once the movie finished.

“Oh yeah?” He said, maneuvering the both of you so that you’re still in the same position, just laying down.

“Yeah. It’s called Once Upon a Time. It kinda became a train wreck, but it was good for a while. There’s this one character who looks a lot like you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. The Mad Hatter. His name is Jefferson.”

He made a confused expression, chuckling lightly. “Alright then. We can watch that next.”

“Good night, Buck.” You whispered, letting your eyes close gently.

Bucky rubbed a few soothing circles into your back. “Good night, dollface.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

20-David on a Plane

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: 20-David flies to Washington DC, and along the way, you learn why Deacon can comfort you so easily.

Warnings: fluff, brief mention/description of nervousness, hints of anxiety, meddling and teasing, quick TSA-related terrorist joke

Word Count: 3.2k+ words

A/N: We are once again pretending Annie doesn't exist. This idea came to me while watching The Middle episode 2x16 ("Hecks on a Plane") during my recent trip! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“It’s about me,” Luca taunts. “I know I should have told you, but I’m getting promoted.”

Street snorts as he closes his locker. “Sure. And Deacon’s got a hot date.”

You try not to laugh at the comment, but it slips out before you can stop it. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you see Deacon shake his head in your peripheral. His smile is still present, so he can’t be too mad.

“Luca, if you’re the reason we’re all getting called into Hicks’ office, I doubt it’s a promotion,” Hondo points out, slapping his shoulder. “I just hope the lecture is enjoyable.”

You sit on the bench behind your locker, leaning over toward Deacon.

“Ten bucks it’s none of the things they’ve said,” you whisper.

“You don’t think I’ve got a hot date?”

Turning your head quickly, you ask, “Do you?”

“I don’t appreciate the implication that it’s impossible.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you rush to say. Deacon presses his lips together to suppress his smile, and you lower your brows to glare at him. “I think Deacon’s getting moved to Rocker’s team,” you announce, “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

Deacon shakes his head, throwing a jacket toward you as you walk away, taking cover behind Hondo.

“Guys!” Hondo yells with a chuckle. “We really do need to go, he’s been waiting.”

“As long as he’s not as impatient as Molly,” Street says under his breath.

“Dude, you’re so whipped!” Luca replies.

“What do you think it is? He doesn’t call all of us for a private meeting very often,” you ask Deacon as you walk out behind your team.

“Probably a congratulations from City Hall, or something equally rehearsed.”

You nod, unconsciously matching your steps to Deacon’s as you stay by his side.

“Close the door, Deacon,” Hicks requests once you’re inside. “I know you’re busy, but this should be quick. This team has done some incredible work in the last year, and the people of Los Angeles are lucky to have you protecting them.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Hondo offers.

“We can drop the formalities; this is good news. 20-David is being awarded a Medal of Valor.”

Street and Luca cheer, silencing when Hicks raises his hand.

“Not from the L.A.P.D. though. This one is coming from Congress by the President.”

Your jaw slackens, and your mouth falls open in shock. The rest of your team is similarly surprised, silent for once while taking in the good news.

“And, because of the mission last month, the President wants to award the medal himself. You’re flying to Washington DC to participate in the ceremony in the Rose Garden.”

“We’re going to DC!” Street cheers. Luca adds, “We can explore the DC food truck map!”

“Free trip,” Hondo says happily, looking toward you and Deacon. “But I need first class, I got long legs.”

“Yeah, about that,” Hicks interrupts. “We had some scheduling and budgeting issues, so you’re all flying coach.”

“No!” Hondo groans, tossing his head back as Street, Tan, and Luca continue talking about the food trucks in DC. “Can’t I pay the difference?”

 “You’d have to leave the day before, the flight you’re on is booked.”

“What’s so bad about coach, Hondo?” Deacon inquires. “Too sophisticated for economy?”

“Yes,” Hondo says as if it’s obvious. You shake your head, and he points at you to argue, “You don’t want to either.”

“I could be duct-taped to the wing of the plane, Hondo. It’s an all-expense paid trip to receive a once in a lifetime award,” you point out.

“Which deserves once in a lifetime treatment.”

 “Then fly out the day before,” Hicks says again. “Just let us know what you’re doing. We’re doing our best to get the return flight upgraded.”

“Coach,” Hondo mutters to himself, “like a normal person.”

“You’re certainly not normal, Hondo,” Deacon says, winking at you when you turn around to hide your smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

You walk into the terminal at Los Angeles International, LAX, expecting to meet your team on the other side of security.

“Good morning,” Deacon says as he walks to your side.

“Morning,” you reply, glad he’s the first one you run into. “How long have you been here?”

“Couple minutes. Hondo just texted that he, Street, Luca, and Tan are almost here.”

You nod, your fingers fiddling with your backpack straps. A few people look at you and Deacon, dressed in your uniforms and carrying tactical backpacks.

“You alright?” he asks quietly, concern in his brown eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just tired, a little nervous.”

“Well, as soon as you’re sitting in a row between Street and Hondo with no escape, you’ll feel worse.”

You laugh, and Deacon smiles, glad he was able to distract you if only for a moment.

“Nervous about the flight?” he asks.

“No,” you begin.

“Deac!” Luca yells, cutting you off as he says your name and tosses his arm over you. “Morning, guys.”

Deacon’s eyes stay on you, but you send him a small smile and a nod to let him know you’re alright. Luca drags you and Street along as he talks and walks simultaneously, one arm over each of you until he reaches the security line.

“IDs,” the TSA agent says, holding a hand toward your team.

You let Street, Luca, and Tan go first, hanging back with Deacon and Hondo until your turn. As you walk through the metal detector, the female TSA agent on the other side asks you to step to the side for additional screening.

“Ooh, someone’s been bad,” Hondo taunts as he walks past.

Deacon keeps his eyes on you as he grabs his backpack from the conveyor belt, pulling yours to his side as he waits for you.

“Never fails,” you tell him, smiling as you take your bag. “Apparently I look like a terrorist.”

Deacon rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to walk by. When you turn the corner, Hondo puts his hands up in surrender.

“Do you feel violated?” Street asks dramatically.

“Should we tell Hicks about how a government official had to search you for…” Luca lowers his voice to finish, “weapons.”

“Right now, you’re the only people who should be afraid of me,” you answer with a cheerful smile.

They look at Deacon for help, but he shrugs and mutters, “You started it.”

“Dad,” Tan and Street groan together.

Deacon shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you as if asking, ‘Can you believe what I have to deal with?’

“Who has the boarding passes?” Tan asks.

Hondo raises his hand, digging into his backpack before pulling an envelope out. He looks at the names one each before handing them out. Deacon looks over at yours with furrowed brows.

“What row you on, Hondo?” he asks.

“Six,” Hondo replies. “Exit row with extra leg room. Hicks pulled through.”

“Me too,” Street, Luca, and Tan answer.

Deacon looks over at you with his head tilted.

“What?” you ask.

“Did you ask to be that far away from us?” His eyebrows raise as he chuckles.

“Where are you?” Street asks, pointing toward you with his chin.

“Seventeen.”

Hondo’s eyes widen, shocked at the idea of sitting so far back in the plane.

“We can ask someone to switch,” Deacon tells you.

“No, it’s completely fine. You guys can… enjoy yourselves.”

Deacon starts to argue, but he’s cut short by an announcement.

“Flight 1239 with service to Washington DC has been delayed. Remain at the gate for further updates,” someone says over the speaker.

Hondo nods as if he expected as much before falling back into a seat. Luca, Street, and Tan follow his lead and get comfortable.

You remain standing, tapping your foot to dispel some nervous energy. After thirty minutes with no updates, you sit beside Deacon and lean toward him, pushing your shoulder against his. He doesn’t mind; he invites your presence at his side.

“Flight 1239 to Washington DC will begin boarding in ten minutes.”

Several people cheer, and Hondo stretches before standing. He sees how close you are to Deacon but only raises his eyebrows, a knowing look in his eye even as you shake your head.

Because you’re sitting further back, you board after the guys and have to ignore their comments as you walk past them on the plane. When you’re in your seat, you settle in and start reading, hoping to distract yourself from your racing thoughts.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Good morning, folks, this is your pilot speaking. Sorry about that boarding delay, but we’re going to get you in the air and to DC in just about four and a half hours,” the pilot announces. “Now, I do hear that we have some of LA’s finest on board. A soon to be decorated S.W.A.T. team, so on behalf of Los Angeles, thank you for keeping us safe on the ground, and let us return the favor in the air.”

Several passengers clap, and you smile as one of the flight attendants speaks to you on his way down the aisle. The man across the aisle introduces himself, thanking you for your service as he shakes your hand. You nod and return to your book, grateful for the sound of takeoff drowning out the voices of people talking about the cops on board.

✯✯✯✯✯

“No way, DC would be the first to go,” Street argues.

“Los Angeles always gets taken out first,” Tan adds. “Haven’t you watched a movie?”

“DC is just a bigger target. It’s not first, but it’s more important,” Luca says, leaning forward to join the conversation about the argument.

“In Independence Day, LA is gone long before they even think of DC.”

Deacon closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the headrest. He’s been listening to a different version of the same argument since boarding. They started talking about fighter jets, which turned to fighting aliens. Now, the argument is about which cities aliens would take out first to dominate the world.

“First class,” Hondo says wistfully before putting his earbuds in.

When Tan starts ranting about how aliens don’t have to come from the sky, Deacon decides he’s had enough. He stands, stepping around Luca before walking down the centre aisle. Several people nod at him, while others keep their heads down. When he reaches your row, he stops beside you until you look up at him, your finger holding your place in your book.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Is that seat empty?” Deacon asks, pointing to the one between you and the woman in the window seat. You nod, and Deacon mutters, “Not anymore.”

He steps over your legs and sits beside you, taking a deep breath as he revels in the quiet away from Street, Tan, and Luca.

“Tired of alien invasion debates?” you ask quietly, turning your attention to the cover of your book.

“You can hear it back here?” he asks incredulously.

“No, but word travels fast when tactically trained police officers are discussing alien movies.”

Deacon nods, looking out the window. You start reading again, sitting upright in your own space, despite Deacon’s arm on the armrest between you. Initiating contact with Deacon has never been a problem for you, and he likes that you trust him enough to be vulnerable and comfortable with him. Your attention is easily drawn away from what you’re doing, which is another unusual thing for you.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, leaning toward you.

You nod, but your harsh swallow tells a different story.

“You can talk to me, you know that.”

“I’m really nervous,” you admit.

“Flying?”

You shake your head, leaning forward to put your book in your backpack. When you sit back up, Deacon takes your hand between his.

“Then what’s going on?”

“The award,” you begin, looking at his hands. “I don’t deserve it. That raid was successful because of you guys, not me.”

“Hey,” Deacon says, using a kind hand to direct your face toward his. “We’re a team, and we did that as a team. Together. Every one of us, including you, deserves this award because we saved lives.”

“You saved lives. That little girl would have died without you.”

“And I couldn't have saved her without you,” Deacon reminds you. “We were under attack, and you kept us out of harm’s way. You deserve this, just as much if not more, than the rest of us.”

You nod, turning your head away from Deacon to rest against his shoulder. He pulls your arm over him, encouraging you to get comfortable. Deacon is a comforting person to be around, but being this close provides a feeling that you can’t get anywhere else.

“Thank you,” you whisper, gently holding his wrist.

“In an alien movie, they’d kiss after she saved his life,” Street says, sitting on his knees to watch you and Deacon.

Luca and Tan nod their agreement before turning back in their seats. They’ve witnessed several quiet, tender moments between you and Deacon, but don’t know where they lead. Hondo has advised them to mind their business, but that isn’t as much fun.

✯✯✯✯✯

The flight attendant who spoke to you right after learning you are a police officer seems to enjoy visiting your row. Every time he walks down the middle aisle, he stops to ask if you need anything or talk to you about your job. Since Deacon moved to your side, it has happened several times. He’s just as tired of it as you are.

Still comfortable in Deacon’s arms, you sigh against his shoulder when you hear him walk by again.

“Can I get you two anything?” he asks.

“No, we’re good, thanks,” Deacon answers, polite but firm.

You tighten your grip on his arm in thanks, glad to not have to speak or move. Your nervousness is seeping out as if Deacon is absorbing it and pumping comfort and peace back into you. It seems impossible to be upset around Deacon, especially when your source of discomfort is of your own making.

“I think he likes you,” Deacon whispers against your hair. “Which should be enough evidence that you don’t look like a terrorist.”

You laugh against Deacon, not expecting him to bring that up again. His shoulder shakes under you as he laughs too.

“The seatbelt sign has been turned on for your final descent into Washington DC. Flight attendants prepare for landing," the pilot says.

“Oh no, now your friend can’t visit,” Deacon says, smiling as you sit up.

“You’re my friend,” you reply, matching his smile. “Thank you for everything, Deacon. Seriously, I couldn’t do all of this without you.”

“I love to do it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Once you land in Washington, someone hands Hondo an envelope with your return tickets. He opens them quickly, crossing his fingers that they’re first class.

“Two. Two of them are first class and the others are the first exit row again,” he says.

“Give ‘em to the lovebirds!” Luca yells.

Street and Tan nod before clapping in your direction. You turn toward Deacon and press your face against his shoulder.

“How am I going to survive this weekend?” you mumble.

“With me,” Deacon answers, a gentle hand on your lower back.

✯✯✯✯✯

Being the only woman on the trip, Hicks reserved a room just for you. Someone knocks once you’re dressed, ready, and growing nervous again. Deacon’s eyes widen as you open the door.

“You look beautiful,” he says, walking in. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Thank you. You look just as handsome as always. And, mostly; I’m a little nervous but I’ll be alright.”

“We’re with you the whole time,” Deacon reminds you. “Do you want to do anything specific when we’re finished?”

You shrug. “Some sightseeing, I guess. I don’t really have anything specific I have to see.”

“There’s one place I think you’d really like. If you’re interested, we could go together. Then do some sightseeing.”

Without hesitation, you agree to spend the remainder of your time with Deacon. He’s been at your side through the good and bad, and you’re happiest when he’s there.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’re going food truck hunting, want to join?” Luca asks, loosening his tie.

“Maybe later. I’ll call when we’re done and we can meet somewhere,” Deacon answers, slipping his hand into yours.

“I see,” Luca says, smiling at your joined hands. “It is the city of love.”

“That’s Paris,” Tan says.

“It can be anywhere,” Street says through his teeth, gesturing toward you and Deacon.

“Oh! Yeah, love… it’s everywhere,” Tan corrects.

Deacon fights an eye roll, waving as he leads you away from 20-David.

“Where’s Hondo?” you ask.

Deacon shrugs. “Who knows. Nichelle probably gave him a list of things to see.”

“And what are we seeing?”

“You’ll find out.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The Georgetown Historical District is beautiful, and as you explore the cobblestone roads hand-in-hand with Deacon, there’s an overwhelming sense of home. At the end of a particularly appealing garden, Deacon pulls you to a stop, turning you against his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?” you ask, raising your free hand to rest on his shoulder.

“Reminding me what it’s like to feel this.”

You know what he means, or you hope you do. Nodding, you lean closer to him.

“This is what you make me feel. You’re home, even in the middle of the desert or the beginning of a shootout. Wherever you are, there’s calm, there’s peace, and there’s a beautiful woman who’s impossible not to love.”

Your smile grows with each word, and you duck your head under Deacon’s chin when he finishes. Looking back up, you see the reflection of the street behind you in his eyes, but there’s also so much more.

“I love you, Deacon. You’ve been my comfort since joining 20-David, and any minute spent away from you feels like an eternity.”

Deacon smiles, his eyes shining like a porch light leading you home after a long time away. He releases your hand to grip your waist, pulling you closer as his lips meet yours. Moving with Deacon, you hold his shoulders as you keep him close, letting his kiss and presence speak to you like they always have. Pulling away, you cup Deacon’s jaw.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

 “I love you. I didn’t say it back before.”

“You didn’t have to,” you point out, pulling him close again.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You kissed,” Hondo accuses as soon as you reach his side.

“Is that a problem?” Deacon asks.

“It is a huge relief, brother. Congratulations.”

He taps Deacon’s back before pulling you into a quick hug.

“I’ll expect to be the best man, right?”

Deacon presses his lips together and looks at you, smiling when you laugh.

“Hey, sorry we’re late, got caught up at this amazing custard truck,” Luca apologizes as he arrives.

Street looks at you, then Deacon, then your joined hands. He closes his eyes and raises a fist in victory. Tan smiles as he nods at you. Luca remains oblivious as he talks about Wisconsin-style custard and chicken sandwiches.

“But what did you guys do?” he finishes.

“Something we should have done before,” Deacon answers.

Luca furrows his brows, and Street claps his back before saying, “You were right. We’re gonna give the first-class tickets to the lovebirds.”

Luca’s eyes widen in surprise, but before he can congratulate you Hondo exclaims, “Whoa, now, they were good in coach.”

Bonus (because I love Deacon and Hicks' friendship):

"Commander, we wanted to discuss inter-team relationships," you begin.

Hicks raises a hand to silence you, looking toward Deacon.

"You finally did something?" he asks.

Deacon nods and Hicks smiles, bringing him into a hug and extending an arm to let you join them.

"About time!" Hicks cheers with a pleased chuckle.

[star-girl-05]

The Bet

James Wilson x Reader

He thought there was no way he’d lose, it seemed like a sure thing. That's the only reason he agreed to the terms, he should have known better. Never bet something you're not willing to lose, yet he did and now he has to go to work like this. Gosh House is going to ream him when he sees him. 

“Come on out James” your sing-song tone just made him want to lock himself in the bathroom forever. “Would you stop being a baby its not even that bad I could have made you do something way worse”

You weren't wrong, you could have made him do something long lasting like shaving his head. It was still bad though. He heard you call his name again, he was going to have come out or he’d be late for work. So finally after gathering all his courage he opened the bathroom door. As soon as you saw his face you were laughing. Wilsons' face lights up like a Christmas tree and he's covering his face in hopes you'll stop laughing. 

“Oh James, I’m sorry it's just” you find yourself laughing again “Don’t hide from me James I want to see your pretty face” That just made him want to hide more. He’s been in love with you for almost a year, always dropping hints he's in love with you, yet you never seem to pick up on them. House says it's obvious the two of you like each other but Wilsons isn’t so sure. 

“James” god he loves when you say his name. You pull Wilsons hands away from his face you do your best trying to hold in your laughter. “Wow you look..hm” your eyes study his face or more importantly the glued on mustache that now rests on his upper lip. 

“Don’t, it looks horrible” he was right it was bad he looked much better clean shaven. Though even with the ugly mustache he was still pretty. 

“It’s just for one day” it is true its just one day but Wilson didn’t just have to wear a fake mustache, every time someone asks about said mustache he owes you ten bucks. Easy money since you know every one he talks to today will be focused on it. 

“Maybe but I’ll be paying for weeks” that's true you're going to make quite a profit off today. 

As soon as Wilson enters the hospital eyes are on him even patients that have never seen him give him a funny look. House is the first to say anything, throwing a file on the nurses station and staring at Wilson with his mouth comically open. “Wilson, I think you got something there. ” He gestures at his face. Wilson rolled his eyes today's going to be a long day. 

“It's a really interesting story” you egg on trying to get House to say the golden words. 

“Okay I’ll bite what’s with the fake mustache” Wilson cursed under his breath pulling out his wallet and handing you the first ten of the day. House eyes the exchange getting even more curious about what's going on. “Hold up, what was that?” 

“Me and Wilson made a bet he lost and now everytime someone asks about his mustache he owes me ten bucks, I’ll give you two bucks if you help” House was agreeing instantly, happy to mess with Wilson in any way. Wilson on the other hand was anything but thrilled. He was objecting right away but it fell on deaf ears.  

Wilson spent the rest of his day getting paged to the clinic where patients asked about his mustache. At the end of the day Wilson owed 780 dollars. 

[chapel-of-rizztual]

I was wondering if I could request a Swiss and one of the ghoulettes, can be any ghoulette. Had the idea of 🐓warming, but instead of the Swiss being in control its the ghoulette. Like she has him super fidgety and wanting to continue, but she won't let him. Just sitting on his lap enjoying it all, for hours too. Hope it's not too NSFW 😅

There is no such thing as too nsfw

The first ten minutes were fine. The first thirty minutes. Hell, even the first hour was fine. It was comforting, the weight of Cumulus in his lap, her thick thighs bracketing his, his cock buried deep inside her as she sat perfectly still. It all made his head spin in the best way possible. 

It was when the first hour was rolling into the second when he started to waver. She was so warm in his lap, he could feel her dripping around him and he didn’t know how much longer he could sit there. Apparently she wasn’t nearly as affected as he was, painting her nails over his shoulder. He flushed hot, feeling sweat beading at his hairline. 

His head rolls forward, pressing his forehead to her chest.  “Lus, please.” He kneads at her hips, hoping to pull her forward onto him more. “Please move, please.” 

“Not yet, baby. I’m not done yet.” 

Swiss whines, burying his face between her boobs. “Please. I’ll do anything.” 

Cumulus hums not really paying attention to him, still busy painting her nails.  “Soon, sweetheart.Wait until I’m done then you have anything you want.” 

It’s been another hour since she said that and now Swiss was desperate on a whole new level. There were tears falling down his cheek as he pants into her shoulder, gripping her her hips so hard she’ll probably have bruises. His cock kicks insider her each time she flutters around him. She’s doing it on purpose, he knows that, she’s purposefully trying to get him to his breaking point before she gives him what he wants. 

“Lus, please. It’s been so long now, please.” 

Cumulus tuts at him.  “I’m still not done yet.” 

“But I’ve been good. Please, I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I?” He pouts up at her, tears falling from his eyes. 

Cumulus coos at him, rubbing a finger along his jawline.  “You have been a good boy, darling, such a good boy for me.” 

Swiss hiccups a sob feeling her flutter around him again.  “M-mommy.” He whimpers out. “Please move. I’ve been good, you said it, please move.” 

Cumulus smirks down at him. This is exactly what she wanted, exactly the place she wanted to get him. She runs her thumb over his bottom lip and his mouth drops open, letting her push the digit in. He sucks het thumb on, swirls his tongue around and hollowing his cheeks. 

“Awwhh, look at you, baby. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”  Cumulus coos at him. “Is my pussy that good it’s got you begging for it?” 

Swiss nod around her thumb, blinking up her owlishly, sniffling as more tears run down his cheek. He pulls of her thumb with a pop, a string of saliva connecting them. 

“Feels so good, mommy. So good.” He takes a deep shuddering breath. “Let me make you feel good. Wanna make you cum, mommy, please.” 

Cumulus hums as if she’s debating it.  “But I already feel good like this.” 

Swiss let’s out a growl, gripping at Cumulus’ hips even hard, bucking his hips into her. Cumulus drops all her weight onto him before can move properly, pinning him beneath her fully.

She tuts at him, shaking her head.  “That wasn’t very good of you, was it?” 

Swiss let’s out a pathetic sob, his head rolling forward to her chest again.  “I’m sorry, mommy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, you just feel so good.” He mouths along her left breast, flicking at her nipple with his tongue. 

She lets out a hum at the feeling of Swiss sucking her nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his warm and wet mouth making her rock her hips against him slightly. 

“You know, I was going to move, because you’d been such a good boy.” She let’s out a gasp as Swiss’ fangs graze over her nipple. “But you had to go and do that, didn’t you? Just couldn’t wait a few more minutes.” 

Swiss’ eyes squeeze close as he feels more tears fall dow his cheeks. He lets out a devastating whimper, his thighs shaking under her. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to cope for. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” He mumbles around her nipple. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be good, mommy.” 

Cumulus threads her fingers his hair, tugging lightly.  “There’s my good babyboy.” She pushes his face  Into her boob even more. “But you know, I’ll have to make you wait even longer now.” 

Swiss let’s out a pained cry, squeeze of her hips.  “No, no, no, please. Please, I’ll be good, you know I will.” He pouts up at her, his bottom lip wobbling. “Please don’t make me wait anymore, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Don’t pout, babyboy.” She run a claw down his jawline. “I have to fix the mistakes you made in my nails, another thirty minutes I think.” 

Swiss let’s a whine, smushing of face between her boobs, shaking his head. 

“Don’t whine like that, this is just the consequences of your own actions.” She pulls his hair harshly, tipping his head back. “Now stay still this time, and maybe I’ll let you make me cum.” 

[alien-magnolia]

Taking Care of Tsu’tey

short drabble, 18+ minors DNI, size kink, bj, sub coded fem omaticaya reader who wants to take care of her man <3 if you like this post pls help a writer out and reblog🖤

you loved Tsu’tey dearly. He was your man. He loved on you, protected you (too protective but that was just right!) and you loved spending days with him in the forest. 

He always made you feel good. Maybe it was your turn! 

You didn’t know much though — but hoped it would work for him! 

“Ma Tsu’tey. Sit. Want to make you feel good,” you slowly and sweetly say to him, right after he has had an unsuccessful hunt. 

“Yawne. I am tired,” he chides at you, smiling at your eagerness to please him. “I must rest,” his soft lips give you a little forehead kiss. 

“Please, ma munxtate. Sit,” you plead, pulling on his arm a bit!! (He was much taller than you, you could climb his arm if you wanted to!!) 

He sighs, sitting down, his ears folded back, giving you a shy smile. You loved this gentle side of him!!

You sit on your knees, hands folded in front, letting out a little giggle before your dainty hands drift towards his loincloth, undoing it. “Ma yuey… ah..,” he let out a little hiss. “Keep going, ah, beautiful girl,” he praises you as you untie the cloth, letting his already hard cock spring out at you. 

You look at his dilated, golden pupils as you make little kitten licks up his shaft, tracing your tongue over every stripe (he had ten - you’d always count!) and his big vein on the left side <3

Your soft lips would gently suck on that dark blue tip of his, hoping that soon you’d get a taste of his sweet seed <3

“Ah. Yawne. My sweet little mate, always eager to please her taronyu, yeah? Keep going,” Tsu’tey’s now breathier voice almost growled at you. 

Your efforts succeeded more and more, as you pay some attention to his now swollen balls, they needed some love too!! <3

You fondle them in your little hand, making sure to switch from his shaft to balls, giving kisses to both!! 

His hips buck in the air, he lets out a hiss, trembling breathing and a shaky voice let’s you know that he’s close!! And he is, and you make sure to swallow every last drop :) 

“Yawne. Can’t thank you enough. Eywa blessed me with a gift- that’s you,” your mate tells you, the sweet and doting side of the great warrior that only you got to see. 

His long arms encompass you, as the both of you fall asleep under the forest canopies, bow and arrow nearby, just in case for the sake of his mate!! 

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.