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naeverse · 6 months

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The Black Rose

🖤 staring: Tattoo Artist Miguel O’Hara x female reader

◽preview:

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

🖤 summary:

At The Bloody Inks, the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, you meet the skilled, stone-cold and attractive tattoo artist, Miguel O’Hara. Seeking a tantalizing tattoo for your rear end, Miguel isn’t hesitant to get what he wants, especially if it’s a doll like you.

◽tw/cw: Butt Tattoo, Cunninglingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Lip piercings Miguel, Needles mentioned, Oral sex, Semi-public, Tattooed Miguel, etc…

🖤 Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Bebé (Baby)

◽Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🖤 Word Count: Around 9.6K

(I do not own any of the fanart or photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

You were used to getting tattoos, so what made this time any different?

You found yourself pondering that very question repeatedly, as you approached the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, 'Bloody Inks.'

Since the age of 18, you've adorned your body with small pieces of inked art, from your ankles to your shoulders. Despite your familiarity with tattoos, today marked a departure from the norm as you contemplated getting a substantial artwork for the first time.

But that wasn't what made you nervous…

It was where you were getting it.

You had a little bet with your friends about your next tattoo, and to your dismay, the idea of a butt tattoo became the central topic.

Secretly desiring one, you were always hesitant due to fears of pain and discomfort on such elastic tissue, the thought of undressing completely from the waist down only added to the nerves.

Yet, here you were, opening the door to the notorious shop…

A bell rang at your arrival along with the crackle of a searing guitar and thunderous drumbeats playing from a speaker. The music’s furious tempo of punk music overwhelmed your senses as you were hit with the smell of ink and antiseptic, and a hint of sandalwood. You stepped inside, your black tennis shoes, on wooden scuffed floors as your eyes roamed the dimly lit lobby before you.

A black leather sofa sat in one corner, a front desk before you, and a few sculptures and decorations covered the worn wooden floors. Despite everything inside, your attention was instantly captured by the gallery of designs that covered the black-brick walls of the tattoo parlor.

There were many sketches and finished pieces that were put on display, an assortment of vibrant colors and intricate details bringing life to the lobby. Mythical creatures, mandalas, floral designs, phrases, and abstract patterns decorated the walls, each one telling a different story and waiting to be chosen and etched onto willing skin.

The counter was empty when you arrived, a soft, dim glow of light hanging from chains on the ceiling cast an amber hue throughout the lobby. You stood patiently at the black desk, fiddling nervously with the bottom of your white t-shirt and pondering if you should go through with this tattoo…

“Oy! We have a customer!”

The loud outburst from a male with a British accent cut through the rather quiet lobby, making you jump. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest whilst you overheard the small conversation between the British male and who sounded like a female coming from further in the tattoo parlor.

“Gwendy, love, I’ve been dealing with the past few customers for a while now. Why not deal with this one, hmm?” The girl responded with a scoff.

“Hobie, you know you haven’t done shit.”

“Ah…you got me there love.” The British guy said with a chuckle. “Well, stop playing around and help the customer.” The girl laughed as you soon heard the sound of heavy footfalls becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t long before the identity of the British male was revealed to you.

The black curtains that separated the lobby from the back of the tattoo parlor opened to unveil an ebony guy with thick black hair and piercings. His hair was styled chaotically on his head, but you had a feeling it was purposeful with the way he carried himself. He had unmistakable confidence and not a care in the world for anyone. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, a black t-shirt covering his lean body as his combat boots thudded against the wooden floors.

He came behind the counter, turning his dark brown eyes upon you, instantly making you a little intimidated. “Aye, name’s Hobie, and welcome to the Bloody Inks. Are you here for a piercing or a tattoo, love?” He asked, his slender fingers locating a pen and notepad from his side of the desk.

You chewed your inner cheek, drumming your thumb against the handle of your small bag.

This was your last chance to back out…

To decide to go on with life without the tattoo on your rear or to face your fears and get the beautiful inking.

It wasn’t long before you already had your answer, giving the male before you a small smile. “I’m here for a tattoo.” You said bringing a smile to Hobie’s pierced lips. He glanced down at the notepad, his pen gliding across the page. “Can I see some ID?”

You were used to this question and already had your ID in hand, placing it into the ebony male’s palm. He barely glanced at it before returning it to you. “Nice, have you been to Bloody Ink’s before?” He asked, causing you to bite your lip nervously.

“No, this is my first time.” He looked up at you, his pierced lips pulled back into a smirk. “Ah, great! I’ll make sure the big boss does your tattoo then.” He said with a smile, but you couldn’t help becoming a little more anxious. The boss was going to be the one giving you your tattoo.

The tattoo on your bottom…

You gulped, hoping the male wasn’t scary-looking or a perv.

“O-kay!” Hobie exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts as he finished writing. “Now, I’ll give you a book to look over the designs whilst the boss finishes up in the back,” Hobie said, pulling a black, hardcover album from under the desk, placing it into your hand, then motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.

You followed along to his instructions, taking the black book in your hands and moving over to the leather couch where you sat down. Hobie then left, going behind the black curtains and drawing them close once more.

To pass the time and decide upon your tattoo, you look over the many designs inside the book. Each was skillfully sketched by hand and each held their own, unique form of beauty. Your eyes glazed over blazing skulls, graceful elephants, motivating quotes, to lastly land upon a beautiful flower.

You gasped, instinctively reaching out to trace a finger along the intricate lines of the sketch. You could already imagine the rose’s petals on your bottom, sprouting out in full bloom across your right, no… left cheek.

The circular pistil was visible and drawn so full of detail that it felt like it was jumping out at you. A few leaves could be seen peeking out the top of the rose as you felt like this design was for you.

Like it was drawing you in…

…

“Have you decided?”

A deep, husky voice asked inside of the quiet lobby. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping up to see someone was occupying the counter…

But it wasn’t Hobie…

A tanned male with a muscular, large build was now present. Standing tall and broad, his physique showed proof of his dedication to the wellbeing of his body due to his swell and bulging muscles. His chiseled features were framed by a strong, defined jawline, a sharp nose, and dark smoldering eyes.

His bronze skin held tattoos that were intricately etched on his skin, each design holding a mysterious story across the backs of his hands, on his arms, and even along his chest and neck. They accentuated the contours of his muscles and added even more allure to his already magnetic presence. He placed his hands on the desk, his eyes still trained on you, his taut body dressed in a mere black t-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he made such simple clothes look like it was woven by the gods.

You didn’t know how long you’d been gawking at him in utter shock and disbelief at the magnificence before you. It wasn't until he moved once more, beckoning to you with two inked fingers that you snapped out of your trance.

You gulped, gathered up your bag and the black album, and made your way to the counter.

The closer you got, the more attractive and intimidating he became. His bushy eyebrows were drawn low over his amber eyes and his mouth, holding two ringed piercings on the opposite ends of his lower lip, were pulled into a scowl.

He looked stern, but you pondered if that was just his usual look.

“So have you decided on what piece you wanted?” He asked again, but you were still baffled by how drop-dead gorgeous he was that you almost misheard him once more. “Y-yes.” You stammered, gulping thickly, your finger still holding the page of your desired sketch. He hummed, holding his large hand out to you, motioning to the black book. You complied, placing it open into his palm, the hardcover open to the page of your tattoo choice.

It felt relieving to not have his stern eyes on you anymore, his amber orbs looking at the sketch you’ve chosen in the book. You bit your lip nervously, eyes trained on him whilst he looked over the design before he turned his gaze back up at you. “You know that’s an ass tat, right?” He bluntly asked which made heat rise in the back of your neck.

“Y-Yes, I know.” You replied, causing his eyebrows to rise for a brief second in surprise. “Well…Okay then.” He said, closing the book and holding the page with his thumb. “I’m Miguel, I’ll be your tattoo artist for today.”

Your heart dropped at his words.

You didn’t know to feel excited or nervous as hell, knowing he’d be the one touching you so intimately. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long as he gave you a curt nod, a gesture that hopefully meant, 'You too.'

He motioned with his head to the back of the tattoo parlor, the entrance that was covered in black curtains. “Follow me.” He commanded in a gravelly tone. You gulped, following behind him through the black drapes to venture further into the tattoo parlor.

Instantly when you entered, the smell of ink and antiseptic became more potent, the sounds of the buzzing of the tattoo guns filled your ears along with the playful banter between the two artists from before.

“So Gwendy, you still believe just because you're in your twenties now that you can order me around?” Hobie asked the girl from across the room. She chuckled, looking away from her male client who was getting a skull tattooed onto his leg to over at Hobie. The girl had blonde, wavy hair and black piercings that covered her face. Two studs styled her eyebrow and a hooped one could be seen on her nose.

She smirked at the ebony male. “I didn’t say anything of the sort and stop calling me that. You know my name.” She laughed, eliciting a snort from Hobie. “Aye, but I like Gwendy better than Gwen.”

Miguel groaned in annoyance, looking between the two young artists. “Stop this nonsense and get to work.” He barked at Gwen and Hobie which surprised you, every muscle in his backside tensing up after his outburst. The conversation ceased to be replaced with just Miguel and your footsteps and the buzzing of the tattoo needles, but Miguel’s previous words didn’t seem to affect the two artists’ since after you both left, their conversation started up again.

Miguel grumbled under his breath, his grip on the black album tightening. You walked behind him down the hallway, his tall and broad being completely blocking your view around him. Every time you looked up, you came face to face with his muscular backside that was covered in his black T-shirt that looked to be straining against his musculature.

You clutched your purse while walking down the hallway to watch him enter a room. When you looked over, you saw a name tag on the door that read 'Miguel O'Hara.'

‘This must be his own personal tattoo room.’

You thought, your stomach clenching on cue as you followed him into the room. Your eyes instantly took in the attractive strangers’ workspace, the room you would also be spending the next hour or so in.

The tattoo room seemed to be more grand, more important than the one the two artists’ Gwen and Hobie were in. The walls were decorated, once more, with black and gray masterpieces of artwork, but these were more sci-fi and futuristic than the ones displayed in the lobby.

Spotlights hung from the ceiling carefully positioned to cast a focused radiance upon the vintage leather chair in the center of the room. The space smelled strongly of ink, antiseptic, men's cologne, and…

Smoke.

But not the typical smoke from a fire, more like from tobacco.

You couldn't help but wonder if the fine male smoked. You didn't want to assume or stereotype, but he looked like he would…

Your eyes soon graced over the main attraction of the room, the tattoo chair and station beside it. The seat had a black leather cushion that looked soft and very comfortable. It appeared, overall, brand new as if no one had hardly sat in it. A steel workstation was positioned beside the hot seat, the surface covered in an assortment of tools like a painter’s palette. The main one catching your eye was the needles and the gun.

You gulped, stepping more into the room as Miguel was rummaging through a nearby closet, the sound of metal and items clattering inside. He glanced momentarily over at the flower sketch inside of the black album before returning to get the items he needed.

You’ve learned, so far, that your tattoo artist was a rather quiet man. He barely spoke, and merely did things without providing a reason or explanation. He rummaged through the closet, next to the cabinets of a few counters and then a small chest in the room, trying to find all of the items he needed to, what you can infer, tattoo your desired choice onto your skin.

Your eyes never left him, watching his massive build transverse around the room, moving things, picking things up, putting them to the side all whilst holding an aura of unshakable coldness that dripped from his very being.

It was intimidating, yet alluring, nonetheless.

Once Miguel found the items he needed, he placed them onto the steel workstation.

With the way he was going about things, you would have thought he'd forgotten about your presence; as he was completely engrossed in what he was doing, placing a piece of stencil paper that held the floral design you wanted onto the workstation, along with black ink tubes, napkins, bottles of creams and other things.

However, you couldn’t focus…

You were highly nervous.

You stood nearby, clutching your purse whilst Miguel covered the tattoo chair with a few gray towels, before returning to organizing his workstation, and handling his tattoo gun. His thick, inked gingers deftly glided across the metal tools and inks when he finally looked up at you. You noticed his dark brown eyes roam your figure, meeting your eyes once more as he fiddled with the needles and tattoo gun.

“Which side?” He asked suddenly, placing the gun down on the workstation. You were baffled, confused about what he meant. “W-what?” You stammered, watching him take a seat on a black rolling stool. “You want your tattoo on your bottom, correct?” He asked, causing you to nod at his question. “Then which side?” He inquired once more.

You gulped, biting your lip. You pondered, remembering the artwork of the black rose from the album book and how beautiful it was, briefly deciding with yourself on which side. “O-On the left.” You replied after considering.

He hummed, nodding whilst placing a pair of black latex gloves onto his table.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to undress from the waist down and lay on your stomach.” He directed, pressing a button under the chair with his foot, causing the backing to lean back.

Your heart quickened and your stomach clenched. This was what you were worried about…

The undressing part.

It wasn’t that you had an unattractive body or weren’t familiar with the acts of intimacy, it was the thought of him, a handsome stranger having his stern gaze on your sensitive area.

How he’ll have to be studying your flesh, taking in every curve and dot whilst he worked in etching the beautiful tattoo onto your rear that made you a little reluctant.

You hesitated, clutching your purse once more. Your nervousness started to become palpable as you noticed Miguel looking up at you. He took in your tentativeness, his stern face softening at the sight. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw as his lip piercings caught in the ceiling light.

“Are you sure about this?” His deep and rough voice filled the quiet room, his movements coming to a halt. You chewed your inner cheek, pondering his question. “Yes…I’m sure.” You replied, causing him to click his tongue. “Then what are all these nerves coming from?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement seems to make his pecs more defined against the black fabric.

“I’ve seen you aren’t new to tattoos.” He said, his amber orbs probably taking in the small, tattooed quotes and patterns covering your body in minor spots before meeting your eyes once again. “So what’s the problem?”

You sighed, meeting his eyes.

Strangely, you felt like pouring your heart out to him.

Despite his coldness, you had a feeling whatever you told him would stay in this room…

“I’ve never got a huge piece done before.” You told him, which was partly the truth. Miguel hummed, his gaze on you intense. “That’s it?” You bit your lip anxiously once more, fiddling with the zipper of your purse. “N-No…I guess I’m nervous about…

Undressing.”

You uttered, biting your lip. However, Miguel seemed unfazed, only nodding in understanding.

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly which made your eyebrows furrow. “Y-Y/N.” You hesitantly replied, bringing a tight-lipped smile to Miguel’s lips. “As you can see. Y/N, for the tattoo you’ve chosen, it’s required that you undress from the waist down.” He said, his amber eyes searching the room before landing on a decoration that sat on a counter.

He stood up, picking up the small porcelain sculpture of a gray woman’s naked body. The piece looked rather small in his massive hands.

“You see here.” He turned the female around, pointing to the left side of the gray sculpture’s plump rear end. “This entire side will need to be revealed for me to work.” He explained, lowering his finger to point underneath the left cheek. “And the tattoo would end underneath the left buttock.” He said, setting the sculpture to the side, and turning his eyes back onto you.

“For other tattoos, I wouldn’t have asked for such things and simply allowed you to keep your undergarments on and work from there.” His tone was gravelly and rough as he spoke to you. “But I'd like to be cautious, so I ask you to remove everything.” He informed you, which made you feel better about the process, but still wary.

Miguel, looked you up and down, tapping his finger against his thick thigh, noticing that you were still hesitant. “How about this,” He began, his words instantly piquing your interest. “I can turn around and allow you to undress and get into a comfortable position on the chair.” He said. “I’ll even give you a towel to cover yourself with.” He proposed with a straight face. “How does that sound?” His demeanor and gravelly tone contrasted greatly with his kind and understanding words.

You thought it over for a while before nodding at his suggestion. He rose from his seat, retrieving a black towel from the closet, and placing it onto the tattoo chair that was already covered in gray towels. He then returned to his rolling stool and turned around to face the wall. “Let me know when you are done.” He said, his voice, husky and deep.

“O-Okay.” You told him, the uncertainty, evident in your voice. Your eyes took in his muscular backside that was straining against his black t-shirt. Every bulging muscle was visible through the fabric.

You bit your lip, feeling rather odd but proceeding on.

You closed the door of his tattoo room and set your purse down on the floor. You exhaled deeply, calming yourself down before looping your fingers into the waistband of your black shorts, slowly drawing them down, your eyes trained on him.

Miguel was completely solid and unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest and his back still facing you. He was so quiet, that you could almost forget he was there.

Well, almost…

When the black fabric of your shorts was nothing but a puddle around your ankles, you stepped out of them, tossing them to the side. You gulped, standing in just your white shirt, black tennis shoes, and panties. You heaved a quiet sigh, chewing your inner cheek.

This was the hard part…

You were about to undress completely…

You exhaled deeply, reluctantly slipping your thumbs into the elastic band of your black panties, pulling them down, and exposing your sex to the tattoo room. You hissed, feeling the cool air against your core. Hastily, you removed them from your being, tossing them to the side along with your shorts.

It felt so weird standing in a foreign place with your rear completely unveiled.

You wanted nothing more than to cover up…

Your eyes shifted over to Miguels’ broad backside, still in its same position.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped at his sudden question, his voice was thunderous compared to the total quietness that had once filled the room. “Y-y-yes.” You squeaked, swiftly moving to climb onto the tattoo chair, laying on your stomach, and placing the black towel over your bare rear to conceal yourself.

After Miguel’s abrupt question, he didn’t say anything else, and neither did you, despite being ready. It took a while for you to tell the sexy, and rather intimidating tattoo artist that you were all set. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest every time you thought you were prepared to do so.

You rested your chin upon the backs of your hands, laying flat on your stomach. You heaved a sigh, feeling rather ridiculous at how scared you were.

You chose to come here, just like you chose to get this tattoo.

‘No reason to back out now.’ You thought, wetting your lips before getting the artist’s attention. “I-I’m ready.” You muttered, causing an instant creak from Miguel’s stool to be heard.

“Good.” He uttered, the sound of the wheels from his seat gliding across the black marble flooring filling the room. You soon felt his presence to your right, seeing him in your peripherals, sitting tall and large on his stool next to you on the tattoo chair. His dark brown eyes continuously glanced over at you before roaming your body, his facial features unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was checking you out, or was merely looking at you to see if you hadn’t fainted on his chair.

“You seem…tense.” He commented in his usual dead tone. You looked over your shoulder at him to see his large hands attaching a black ink tube to his tattoo gun. His black tattoo arm sleeve was visible under the projecting light of the ceiling as his amber eyes were trained more on what he was doing rather than you.

“Y-yes. I’m still a little nervous.” You confessed, feeling your hands begin to tremble slightly. Miguel looked up at you, the light bouncing off his two lip piercings on his lower lip. “If I start and your body is not relaxed it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” He said bluntly, setting his tattoo gun onto his workstation. His words didn’t help, only causing your heart to quicken in pace and freak you out even more.

Because how could you possibly calm down?

It felt utterly impossible…

You weren’t nervous about the needle, or getting tattooed to begin with. You were experienced when it came to the inking process. What was working the nerves was the thought of his stern gaze and calloused hands feeling up your bare bottom. His gloved thumbs pressed into your rear, his amber eyes trained on every piece of you from the waist down which was making you nervous as hell.

Miguel eyed you, taking in your troubled expression as you lay upon his tattoo chair. Your bare bottom, covered in a black towel and your chin resting on your hands.

“Let me relax you.”

He abruptly said in almost a commanding voice rather than as a proposition. His suggestion made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that came to your mind at the thought of him ‘relaxing’ you.

"And h-how would you do that?" You asked, watching him rise from his stool, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you.

"I'm going to give you a massage."

He declared. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected proposal, your entire body suddenly heating up. "I've never heard of a tattoo parlor doing something like that." You admitted, feeling him adjust the chair's height to match his towering 7-foot frame, bringing the seat up to his waist.

"That's because you've never been to the Bloody Inks before," he said, a hint of amusement found in a usual cold voice. "There's a reason we're notorious in Nueva York, Y/N " he explained. "If we did what every other parlor did, we'd be just like any other tattoo shop…

Isn’t that right?”

He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your back. “I-I guess so.” You replied as without warning you began to feel his thick fingers on your shoulders, caressing small patterns into your blades. You gasped, the feeling instantly making you melt into the chair.

“You okay?” He asked, every touch of his thick fingers against your tensed muscles making you shudder. “Mhm.” The hum being pulled from your very being and coming out more forceful than you attended whilst Miguel continued his massage.

Miguel’s tattooed hands were large and strong, tracing the contours of your muscles and pressing gently into them. Suddenly, you winced slightly, the tension resisting his skilled touch. “Relax,” He uttered, his voice a low rumble that reverberated from the depth of his broad chest. You shakingly nodded, eyes fluttering closed at the wonderful sensations. “O-Okay. I’ll try.” You replied, trying to calm yourself.

You shakingly exhaled, feeling Miguel’s hands move down your back, his soothing caresses focusing on the crease that began the arch of your ass.

“Damn, there's a lot of tension here.” He commented, adding more pressure into his fingers and kneading the soft tissue in that area. You let out a contented sigh, his large hands enclosing around the sides of your waist. His thumbs pressed into your skin through the fabric of your white t-shirt, rubbing small patterns into your lower back. You groaned softly, the sensations he was bringing to you felt so good.

His touch, mysteriousness, voice, coldness, everything about him was so hot.

His fingers soothing places in your back that you didn’t even know existed, bringing you closer to tranquility.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing and running his palm along the center of your back, making you shiver. You exhaled deeply, your limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. “Mmm, good. It feels good.” You replied with closed eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” He said, his hands leaving your body.

“But I can’t help but notice you are still tense.”

Miguel said, making your eyebrows furrow as a sense of emptiness filled your being without his touch.

“W-what do you mean?” You inquired, entirely puzzled. You didn’t feel a single bit of tension in your backside. A feeling of pure relaxation filled your being, leaving you confused about what he meant by such things.

But it wasn’t like you were skilled as a masseuse yourself, so you could be mistaken.

“Yes, you are still tensed.” He uttered, running his fingers along the center of your backside, over the curve of your ass to rest a hand on your rear that was covered in the black towel.

“Here, it needs my attention.”

You were shocked and in disbelief, instantly becoming speechless; but despite your bewilderment, Miguel continued talking. “It’ll only make sense to massage where I'll be working. It’ll help loosen the muscles of your rear, making tattooing it less painful.” He explained, but it still didn’t stop the huge blush that spread across your face. You didn’t know how to respond, stuck between your own uncertainties and desires.

“T-this will be… beneficial?” You asked shakingly, trying to push past the naughty and erotic things that were filling your head. Miguel hummed. “Yes, I’ll be tattooing your left buttock, so it’ll help make the tattoo process smoother…

For you, I mean.”

You bit your lip. The butterflies, going rampant in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do or what to say, but then the realization that he was going to have to see and touch your bottom anyway when the actual inking process began led you to put your worries to the side and agree.

“No. I don’t mind.” You said, thankful that Miguel couldn’t see how red you were due to your face being away from him. Miguel hummed, his previous touch seeming to linger upon your skin.

“I’ll have to remove the towel. You okay with that?” He asked, which made your heart skip a beat. You shakingly exhaled, nodding. “Yes.”

You felt him lift the black towel from your bottom, the cool air rushing over your bare rear. You sucked in a breath as before, Miguel didn’t warn you, his warm hands groping your cheeks and instantly beginning to knead the fat of your ass.

This time, the sensations were different.

On your backside, the massage was more relaxing and tranquil, but on your rear, it felt more personal, more…

Intimate.

His touch made you feel pleasure beyond anything…

You bit your bottom lip harshly, trying to muffle the erotic cries that wished to escape whilst Miguel’s calloused hands worked wonders on your rear. His fingers pressed firmly into your left cheek, squeezing the fat before moving along the sides. It was a process that you pondered if it was professional or not, but it wasn’t like you cared.

His fingers knead into your soft flesh, like dough, making you see stars every single time. You were slowly becoming wet, your arousal spilling from your exposed sex to gradually coat your thighs and drench the gray towels underneath you.

The massage was good.

Dangerously too good…

A sudden moan broke free, filling the tattoo room when he roughly groped both of your cheeks in his large hands, spreading them apart. You instantly blushed horribly, embarrassed beyond anything.

“O-Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry.” You briskly replied, wanting nothing more than to hide. You didn’t know how the hell Miguel would react.

Would he cease his wonderful massage?

Tell you to leave?

Would things get hella awkward now?

You felt like a complete idiot, mentally facepalming yourself for giving into the pleasure of a total stranger.

But to your surprise, Miguel did something you weren’t expecting.

He chuckled.

For the first time since you met the menacing and large Latino artist, he showed an emotion that didn’t make you feel so freaking intimidated. The sound of the small, deep laughter that passed his lips was honestly breathtaking, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

“No need to apologize.” He replied, drawing your attention back to him and his wonderful massage. His touch on your rear became more soft and gentle like he was taking his time with you.

“It just shows I’m providing you what your body needs.” He replied, moving his hands onto your thighs, caressing them with his thumbs before running his hands up to fully cup your asscheeks into his hands. You moaned softly, your body instinctively arching up into his waiting palms. Miguel snickered, giving your ass another squeeze when everything stopped.

His movement on your rear ceased, his small laughs, movement, everything!

You lay there, waiting for anything to happen when you suddenly felt his pierced lips against your ear.

“Let’s drop the act, Cariño.”

He whispered, his breath warm on your face and his piercings, cold against your skin. Your heart dropped, and your body instantly became hot.

You tried to speak, to deny what he was saying, but your quivering lips wouldn’t form the words.

He snickered at your speechlessness and how flustered you were, the sound sending tingles throughout your entire being and going straight to your throbbing core.

“Let me relax you how we both desire, Y/N.”

He hummed, resuming his touch on your rear, but this time it was different. It was purposefully more erotic. He gave your bottom a sensual squeeze with one hand, his other moving up to stroke your hair.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

It felt surreal.

Something you'll fantasize about your sexy tattooist…

But Miguel’s fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp whilst continuing to tease and knead your right asscheek with his fingers made you think otherwise.

You were speechless yet again. You didn’t know how to respond, but your body was doing the speaking for you.

Your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the gray towels under you, spoke volumes on its own. You shakingly exhaled, trying to calm your excitement.

Miguel chuckled, his fingers continuing their tantalizing play on your rear, tempting and taunting you to give in to the sexy artist.

You bit your lip harshly, eyes fluttering as he, teasingly, brushed his thumb across your slick folds. You gasped at his attempt to entice you more.

“Mmm, you are soaking, Muneca.” He growled against your ear, his lip rings brushing your lobe and making you shudder. He sucked in a breath, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, coating his digits in your never-ending arousal. He groaned at your wetness, cupping your mound, to circle his two fingers around your sensitive bud. You moaned helplessly, trembling with pleasure.

“Muneca, you want this, just as much as I do.” He uttered, pressing his fingers more against your throbbing bud, eliciting a cry to escape your lips and making you wetter.

“Let me relax you.” He whispered, his deep voice filled with desire as he removed his hands to place them on your hips, caressing gentle circles against your sides.

“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”

He proposed once again. His words alone made your stomach clench in want. The gray towels underneath you completely soak with your arousal.

You couldn't stop yourself. The desire blinded you as your head slowly nods at his erotic proposition.

“P-Please.” You practically begged; voice tainted with desperation for more of him. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk against your ear.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He praised, nipping softly at your ear before pulling away. His touch left you cold and empty.

“On your knees. Ass up.”

He commanded, his coldness resurfacing right before your eyes. His sternness was even more attractive and made your core throb in anticipation.

You bit your lip, lust blinding your every action, thought, and word as you rose on the tattoo chair. As he instructed, you stood up on your knees and forearms with your ass thrust up into the air.

The cool air continuously brushed along your heated core, making your breathing hitch every time. The position gave him a full display of your wet folds and the gradual drip of your arousal down your thighs. The sight alone revealed your evident desire for him which made you excited, but also ashamed.

This sexy stranger was intimidating, scary, and someone you would, normally, never align yourself with.

So what was different about him that had you practically soaking his chair?

In your peripherals, you saw Miguel move. The mere motion snapped you out of your thoughts as his massive being disappeared from view. Instantly, you became anxious, oblivious to his next actions.

A sexy groan escaped his lips, feeling his amber eyes trained on your exposed sensitive area. “That's a pretty pussy you got that.” He purred, making you blush horribly. You buried your face into your inner elbow, embarrassed for liking the compliment from someone as sexy as him.

Miguel chuckled. “Does someone like my praises? You are a naughty one, Cariño.”

He snickered. Your face, reddening even more. His fingers continued their dance along the skin of your ass, your breathing becoming more shaky and your body burning hot.

His words and touch alone were enough to make you lose control. Beads of your essence running down your thighs.

“Cariño, I've only known you for about 30 minutes, yet, there is something about you that fascinates me. Something that I love so very fucking much….

Want to know what that is?”

He asked, his voice deep and husky, yet sending a shiver down your spine; his fingers ghosting along your skin. “Y-Yes.” You shakingly inquired, curious about his answer, but also anxious for him to cease his teasing and touch you.

He chuckled at your cluelessness, running his nails along your bare rear making you shiver.

“I love that despite your obvious hesitance and, dare I say, fear, you give into your wants, Muñeca

Your desires.”

He uttered, the pads of his fingers barely touching you, but forming goosebumps, everywhere along your skin.

“I-I don't understand.” You breathlessly and honestly replied, trying your hardest to look over your shoulder at the large male but failing every time.

“You don't understand, bebé?” He purred, his fingers leaving your bottom. “Then let me turn those gears in that sexy head of yours.” He whispered, his heavy footfalls slowly walking to stand in front of you. You gulped, glancing up to see him right before you, the growing bulge in his black jeans being the main attraction.

“You come into my shop for an ass tat, yet you were nervous as hell to get it.” He acknowledged. “But despite your nerves, here you are on my chair with that sexy ass all ready for me." He said with a smirk. His hand moved to run through your hair, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers once more.

Your eyes fluttered, sinking more into the soft leather, your rear rising. “And even now, I intimidate you, don't I, Cariño?” He asked, his male cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke filling your nose, increasing your desire for him.

Regardless of your lust, Miguel did intimidate you. His massive body, bulging muscles, stern-drawn face, tattoos, lip rings, and cold aura made you nervous around him.

That you couldn't lie about...

“Y-yes. You do.” You confessed, eliciting a deep hum from Miguel. “Yet, you are giving yourself to me.” He whispered, moving his hand from your hair to take your chin into his calloused fingers. He turned you to look up at him, your eyes darting to take in his chiseled cheeks, massive neck tattoo, enticing rings on his plush lips, smoldering amber eyes, and dark brown hair that loomed over his eyes.

He smirked, his canines peeking out from his lips. “You are delivering yourself to me on a silver platter, Y/N.” He rasped, caressing your chin and holding your stunned gaze before pulling away. You were left breathless, gasping for air, you didn't know you were holding.

You tried to track him, his huge, menacing form returning behind you and out of your sight. “So love, despite your worries, reluctance, and inner thoughts telling you to stop and turn back.

If you desire something, you go through with it...”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You wondered if Miguel's observation of you was correct.

Were you the type to follow your desires, even though everything in you was telling you otherwise?

You pondered, if the sexy stranger was right, despite only knowing you for a short time.

But that thought soon became nothing but mush in your brain when his sudden grip on your asscheeks made your entire mind go blank. As if dipped in warmth, your body instantly melted like chocolate under his fingertips, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Miguel hummed, his breath brushing along your heated core, only making you wetter.

“And I love a woman that knows what she wants,” He uttered, pressing a kiss to your left ass cheek, making you gasp,

“What she needs…” He whispered, pressing another kiss to your other eliciting another soft moan from you.

“I can tell you are going to be tasty…”

He rasped before finally giving you what you desired and swiping his tongue along your folds.

You cried out, slumping against the tattoo chair whilst Miguel licked at your rear. He groaned, squeezing your ass and pressing his face more into your bottom, licking, sucking and completely devouring you.

You moaned uncontrollably, gripping the leather seat tightly. “O-Oh gosh.” You whimpered as Miguel continued his pleasurable assault, running his skillful hands up and down your spine, brushing your shirt up to feel more of your skin. You were becoming hot and increasingly wet, your love juices spilling from your entrance to be swallowed by Miguel’s eager mouth.

With every suction of his lips and the swipe of his tongue, it made your mind complete mush, time and space becoming non-existent. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He groaned, sloppily ravaging your core, and fucking you with his tongue.

The tattoo room was filled with your whines and whimpers, Miguel’s low groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy. Your entire body was clenching and squirming the closer you got to that sweet end.

Like his hands, Miguel’s mouth worked wonders on you. His tongue moved rapidly across your pussy, seeming to be everywhere at once. Swirling your throbbing bud, thrusting into your entrance, and lapping your delicate pussy lips. a

When it came too much to bear, Miguel held you close, preventing you from moving away from him. It only made you tremble, the pleasure consuming your entire being.

“M-Miguel, I-I’m close.” You cried out, pressing your face into the tattoo chair. He hummed, the vibrations rumbling through you and making your stomach tighten even more. “You want to cum, pretty girl?” He chuckled, moving from your desired spot to kiss along the skin of your bottom. His hooped, lip rings brushed along the skin of your ass and made you even more wetter.

You moaned softly, frantically nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, Miguel.” You whined, wanting him to bring you to your release. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek before returning his skilled mouth to your puffy pussy lips once more.

You gasped loudly, his tongue darting erratically along your dripping folds. The feeling was more extreme than ever before as he continued, tugging and lapping at your sweet pussy.

You were so wet, your thighs dripping with your arousal like a relentless rain, its non-stop downpour completely soaking your legs and the gray towels underneath you. You gritted your teeth, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear, begging for a release.

Everything felt so good, you wanted to hold on, to feel more of Miguel’s tongue and hands that roamed your body, caressing you in ways that increased the pleasure by 10-fold;

But you just couldn’t…

With a loud cry, you climaxed hard onto his waiting mouth. Your vision saw white, eyes rolling as your sticky juices covered his pierced lips and ran down your legs. Miguel groaned in pleasure, gripping your cheeks harshly, widening you and licking you clean, whispering, 'So good. Such a good girl for me,’ over and over again.

It was like music to your ears.

Your eyes fluttered as he finished; tugging away from your pussy lips with a wet plop. You were dazed, falling flat against the tattoo chair, and trying to calm your breathing and come down from your epic high.

Faintly, you could hear Miguel’s boots against the black marble flooring, moving around to stand beside you, coming into view once more.

With glazed eyes, you looked over at him, breathing heavily. His chin and pierced lips were completely covered in your arousal. Like a king who had just feasted on a buffet fit for royalty, he used his fingers to wipe it off in satisfaction. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He praised again with a smirk. Your entire body and face flushed at his erotic compliment. You were speechless, not at all knowing how to respond.

For a moment you just stared up at him, still trying to figure out if what just happened, happened.

His amber eyes roamed over your form once more, lingering on your bare rear longer than anything else. He growled, stepping closer once more. “But don’t think we’re done here, Muñeca.”

“I want more.

Just one more taste”

He uttered, the words surprising you, but not as surprising as what he did next…

Everything was a blur, his large being moved so quickly it was hard to follow, especially in your dazed state.

You soon found him underneath you on the tattoo chair, his massive body laying under you and your puffy pussy lips right over his waiting mouth. His large hands roughly groping your rear, and holding you tightly in place.

Certainly, you wouldn't be able to get out of his hold, even if you tried.

You gulped, staring down at him between your thighs in shock. Your mind, not keeping up fast enough. “M-Miguel, w-what-”

“Let me relax you, chica.”

He cut you off, gripping your ass in his large, inked hands and pushing you down onto his mouth once more. You cried out, his mouth even more intense than ever.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as his tongue circled your clit, teasingly applying more pressure and making you whine. Your fingers, instinctively, found his dark brown hair, gripping and tugging at the chocolate strands and making Miguel groan.

He caressed your bottom with his large, calloused hands, sucking at your sensitive bud with his hot, wet mouth, expertly flicking it. You moaned helplessly. “M-Miguel, g-gosh. It feels so good.” You cried out, instinctively, grinding your hips against his mouth, chasing another steady rising climax. Miguel's eyes fluttered close, savoring your taste on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your sticky folds.

Your breathing quickened, his piercings grazing against your sensitive skin with every lap of his tongue against your entrance. You were slowly losing it, feeling him gradually ease his tongue inside of you before thrusting you repeatedly with the wet muscle.

You moaned loudly, rutting your hips and continuously brushing his nose into your clit, his tongue continuing its torment. A strangled moan erupted from your throat, the pleasure becoming too much. You shook uncontrollably, gripping his hair tightly and squirming on his mouth.

“A-Ahh, Miguel, I-I can’t-” You tried moving off, but Miguel firmly held you down on his mouth, his tongue, darting in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his warm, wet muscle.

The familiar feeling of scorching heat began to rise in your stomach. You gritted your teeth, his metal ringed, lip piercings brushing against your pussy lips with each suckle. He reached around, parting your lips and sticking his tongue deeply into your opening, messily lapping and sucking you.

Your love juices soaked his lips and chin to be sloppily devoured by Miguel. The room was filled with the erotic sounds of your pussy’s squelches. Silent moans passed your lips, as your head limply fell back to be caught by Miguel’s large hand.

He took your chin in his tattooed finger, pulling you back down towards him. He moved his mouth from your heated core as his intense dark eyes met yours. “I want your eyes on me.” He said, his breathing rather stable, despite almost drowning in your pussy for what felt like an hour. His tattooed hand caressed your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want to see you cum, Muñeca .” He whispered, pressing kisses along your inner thighs and nipping softly. You bit your lip, a soft moan passing your lips at his pecks. You weakly nodded, almost completely dazed.

He smirked, pressing a long searing kiss to your thigh. “Hmm, good girl.” He uttered parting your pussy lips with two thick fingers and attacking your swollen clit once more. It took everything in you to keep his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at you whilst his tongue and lips moved in a frenzy along your pussy.

Your body trembled horribly, fingers gripping his hair tightly to stabilize yourself.

“M-Miguel.” You whined his name over and over again. The desire to tell him of your reached peak was on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure was too overwhelming; leaving you unable to say such a thing as your release unexpectedly slammed into you.

With a loud strangled moan, you orgasmed for the second time.

Your body shook uncontrollably as your thighs squeezed around Miguel tightly. Your juices gushed out onto his eager mouth whilst a sensation of pure bliss sprouted throughout your being.

Your eyes rolled as silent and breathy moans busted from the depth of your chest. Miguel didn’t cease his torment, continuing to suckle on your puffy pussy lips, swallowing all of your sweet nectar. His lips and chin were completely drenched in a mixture of saliva and your love juices, but it didn’t seem as if the massive tattooist cared.

Until he was satisfied, Miguel continued to slurp messily at you. You were highly sensitive, squirming on his mouth and whimpering uncontrollably as he held you down with a firm grip on your thighs. When his thirst was satiated, you were relieved to hear a deep hum of delight escape his glistening lips and soon feel him effortlessly lift you from his mouth to rest your bare bottom on his clothed chest.

You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. When you finally came down from your high, you glanced up to see his dark eyes peering back at you. His gaze was intense and stern as always, but your attention instantly went down to his mouth and the mess you’ve made upon it.

His tanned lips and piercings glistened with your arousal. Your essence dripping down to coat the entirety of his chin. Your entire face burned up at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, I’m s-so sorry.” You hastily apologized, still a little jittery from your explosive orgasm. You reached over to grab the black towel that was left discarded on his stool to try to clean him up.

“Don’t.”

He simply stated, capturing your wrist in his large hand to halt your movement. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching him take the towel from you and toss it to the side.

You were confused, your eyes taking in his mouth and chin that was still covered in your juices. His pierced lips pulled into a smirk, his hands moving to caress your bare ass.

“I want to taste all of it, Muñeca. I'm not letting none of you go to waste…”

For the next hour or so, the room was filled with the buzzing of a tattoo gun and Miguel’s deep voice occasionally trying to soothe you.

“Beautiful Muñeca. You are doing well.”

“I promise you, this rose will look good on you when I’m done.”

“Just a little longer, I’m almost finished.”

He whispered, his gloved fingers pressing into your flesh as he applied the last finishing strokes of black ink onto the rose on your rear. You bit your lip harshly, gripping the leather cushion when finally, the buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased. The needle, no longer, harshly pricking of your sensitive skin.

“I’m finished, Muñeca.” He said, placing the gun to the side and soothingly, caressing your waist. You exhaled a sigh of relief, your eyes a little teary.

“You did well, Cariño.” He praised once more, proceeding to clean the tattoo, applying an antiseptic ointment and covering it, all whilst speaking to you.

“Although, you’ve surprised me.” He said with a chuckle. “I thought you’d become a crying little mess on my chair.” He teased, making the two of you laugh. “I won’t lie, I thought so too.” You confessed, feeling him finish up putting a protective sterile bandage over your freshly inked tattoo.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen on my watch.” He said with a smirk, motioning to you with a finger for you to stand up. “Carefully.” He sternly said, giving you a pointed look. His voice had its usual coldness but also held a hint of affection in his tone.

That maybe the sexy tattooist might actually care about you.

You gave him a small smile, watching him begin to pack up his tattoo items and place them back into his closet. You followed Miguel’s words, cautiously rising up and off of the chair. You winced softly, your left cheek a little sore.

You walked over to the body mirror in Miguel’s tattoo room, turning around to admire the fresh inking on your rear through its sterile bandage.

It was beautiful…

Just like you thought.

The black rose was wonderfully sketched and etched onto your rear end. Its petals, pistils, and leaves, were all defined perfectly and coated the entirety of your left cheek.

You couldn’t stop looking at it, finding something else about it that you loved.

Large hands settled on your waist, snapping your attention from your tattooed bottom to up at the hot male through the mirror. He smirked, meeting your gaze through the glass. “It’s sexy, isn’t it?” He asked, caressing your sides as you smiled, nodding.

“You did really well, Miguel.” You complimented, both of your eyes, taking in the intricate linings of the rose on your rear. “I’m happy you like it.” He said, cupping your chin in his fingers to turn you to look up at him.

“But make sure you properly treat it every day. I’ll send you a list of aftercare instructions.” He said, his amber eyes taking in your face whilst he spoke. You bit your lip, nodding. “I will.” You replied. He smirked, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes once more.

“Good, now kiss me.” He said in his cold tone, but his amber eyes held a look of fondness in them. You smiled, cupping his face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips against his.

You moaned softly upon the impact, his metal lip rings, smooth and cold, only making the kiss even hotter. You passionately kissed his lips, savoring the feeling of his lip rings and the taste of his plush lips against your own.

When the two of you pulled away, breathing heavily from the heated exchange, he smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “I hate to tell you this, but I have a client in the next 10 minutes.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll see you next time, Muñeca, for your check-up.” He smirked, handing you a business card with his contacts and the address of the Bloody Inks on it.

You smiled, taking the card from him, your hands touching during the small interaction that sent a spark straight through your being.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Miguel felt it too…

There was an unmistakable pull that was drawing you towards him. You didn’t want to leave him, despite only meeting him that day.

The desire to snuggle up in his muscular arms, to feel his touch on you once more was overwhelming, but he was right.

It was time for you to depart…

So after carefully getting dressed back into your panties and black shorts, you pressed one final kiss upon the sexy tattooist’s pierced lips. The kiss oddly felt unending, but not long enough when you finally pulled away from each other, leaving you, even more, hungrier for him than before.

You exited out of his room, walking through the tattoo space of the shared artists of Gwen and Hobie who thanked you for coming, to then leave the tattoo parlor altogether.

You walked down the sidewalk, feeling like a completely different person. You twirled the business card that Miguel gave you in between your fingers. A feeling of bursting adoration for the beautiful inking that adorned your left cheek, knowing it was created by the sexy tattooist.

To you, the stunning piece of art wasn’t just a tattoo.

No…

It was the marking of a memory of a day when a serious, cold, sexy, and dedicated artist came into your life, revealing a different side of yourself- a daring, more confident side that would forever be engraved in your mind.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel excited to see the sexy tattooist again, anxious for all the fun you and Miguel would get up to on your next visit to the Bloody Inks…

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'The Black Rose.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog!! Love you guys!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x reader smut

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devilander · 25 days

Text

rain falls in love

homelander x gn reader. fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse

Cozy Corner Domaystic: Thunderstorm

You were a light sleeper. Even minor disturbances would wake you instantly; your cat meowing, a neighborhood’s TV turned on, cars passing through the street. Whenever Homelander and you slept together you couldn't help but be slightly envious of how he could turn off the whole world—he slept like a stone, slept like the dead.

Today, though, you doubted many could sleep through the thunderstorm that split New York’s sky. Each thunder louder than the other, sequences of lightning turning the apartment clear as day. And, courtesy of your boyfriend's gigantic windows, you felt enclosed in the roar of the night.

For some, it could be an entertaining spectacle; nature's power a soothing balm, a way to make you contemplate how much of your worries were small and ephemeral—in the end, there was only the earth and the rain.

You could, in theory, see the poetry of it. But all you felt was an overwhelming fear. The loud noises reminded you of your father's booming voice, the cracking of electricity too similar to his heavy hands landing on you.

John was away, having left a week ago in some undisclosed mission. Undisclosed to the public, of course, because he told you in detail how, actually, he was going to take part in a non-authorized invasion of a terrorist cell. Or so he called it.

You were alone. Only you and the storm and Popsicle purring in your lap, indifferent to his surroundings.

After another furious thunder nearly frightening you to death, you decided to call John. Tears streamed down your face and you felt ridiculous—it’s only rain. And yet.

He probably wouldn't pick up. If he did, he'd be too busy, what could he do?

In the first ring, however, he answered. “Hello, sweet face. Awake at this hour?”

“Oh, it's nothing.” You tried to disguise your sniffles, suddenly beyond embarrassed. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence, and then—

“Is it the storm, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yeah. I can't sleep, it keeps reminding me of… you know. I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Don't you ever apologize to me for that, ever,” he retorted, voice tinged with anger, though you knew it wasn't aimed at you.

“Can we—” Another thunder, and this time you yelped, scaring Popsicle so that he ran to hide under the bed. “God, I hate this,” you whimpered. “I just want you here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, you precious thing. Fuck, this is bullshit. A fucking week here and we accomplished shit. They sent me the most incompetent team of motherfuckers, I'm up my ass with their whining and ‘but sir, mister Edgar said we should be cautious’.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a trifle.”

“Ugh, fucking tell me about it. A week without you for this bullshit. Y’know what, I'm out. Hold on there, honey, I'll be with you in a moment.”

And he hung up. And the storm raged on, but you felt a giddy warmness settling on you.

Not before long, he barged in, completely wet, but you couldn't care less. You ran to his arms, letting the raindrops seep through your clothes as tangible proof of his devotion.

“You didn't need to come.”

“Ah, but I promised, didn't I? I'll be with you anytime you need me, and you need me now, don't you?”

You giggled, forgetting all about the fears. It was washed over. “I do. And you need a hot bath.”

“Hmph. You too, little baby. C’mon, join me.”

You sat behind him in the tub, washing his hair, enjoying every second of this quiet moment. He moaned at the contact and squeezed your thigh as it circled his waist.

If the storm was a demonstration of nature's power, John was both its likeness and antithesis—he himself was a force to be reckoned with, an amalgamation of sheer strength and might. Created by men, but a victim of them. You could understand that, quite intimately.

He gave you security in his power, and you gave him peace in your tenderness—the value of a whisper to a snowbank.

“John,” you whispered. “I love you. I'll keep you forever, because you belong to me and I to you. Will you let me?”

You felt, more than you saw, his deep breath, swallowing back tears you knew were spilling down his cheeks. You didn't care what they said, what he did looking back in anger, because this was the only truth.

“Yeah…” He choked up, but soldiered on. “Yeah, my love. I'm never letting you go. I fucking love you to pieces.”

As you lay in bed together you decided—in the end, there was only he and you.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #cozy corner domaystic 2024 #prompt: thunderstorm #homelander fanfiction #the boys #my writing #first contribution babey #heavy weather by billie martin in the background

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xreaderanonaccount · 7 months

Text

Punishment (Pantalone x F!Reader x Omega Build)

Synopsis: Dottore may or may not have went over budget by 3 million mora. Pantalone deemed it nessacary for a punishment. That just happens to include you and Omega.

Not beta read, we die like Dottore's segments

RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI.

Content warning: Smut, AFAB Reader, Threesome M/F/M, oral (female reciving), fingering, overstimulated

A/N: Honestly I lowkey lost motivation near the end.

Divider credits: cafekitsune

You sat in Dottore’s lab, enjoying watching Dottore and his segments do whatever they were doing. You tried to ask once about what they’re doing but it was too complicated for you to understand. But either way you enjoy watching them do whatever they were doing. You snuggled into a thick winter jacket the smell of your other lover the 9th harbinger Pantalone fills your lungs. A complicit smile was plastered on your face as you happily watched. The lab was slightly noisy but not too much to bother you, but that noise was soon filled with a different type of noise as fast and hurried footsteps stomped towards the lab. Prime and the segments didn’t seem to notice but you surely did. The lab door slammed open with a thundering shake as a fast blob of black stormed past you, straight to Prime. Finally getting a good look you could see the angered face of your lover Pantalone. His normal facade was long gone as he ripped Prime around pinning him in his arms on the table.

“Ah, Lord Regrator. Now what do I owe the pleasure?” Dottore fain a fake smile as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t take that bullshit with me, Doctor.” Pantalone’s voice filled the venom sneered at Dottore. The segments shuffled away from the two harbingers more close to you. Some are scared and wanting to be near you, and some shield you to make sure those two don’t end up hurting you. You peered at the two between the shield of segments.

“Tell me why you spend 3 million mora without. My. permission.” Pantalone sneered his face inches away from Dottore’s face. If it was anyone else you’d think they were going to duke it out with each other. But since they are your two lovers you have an inkling on an idea on what Pantalone has in mind. The two harbingers sat in silence as they stared down at each other. Dottore with a shit eating grin and Pantalone with an angered expression.

“Well…” Dottore finally broke the silence, “Why not?” Dottore’s shit eating grin grew wider as the hold Pantalone had on the table creaked. Pantalone leaned closer to Dottore where the lips were mere inches away from each other. Pantalone let out a chuckle as he leaned back still pinning Dottore down on his lab desk.

“I guess a punishment is in order.” Pantalone's smooth voice smiled as he let go of Dottore. Pantalone whipped around finally acknowledging you and the segments that were there. He carefully walked up to you with the fake customer service smiles that he always has. He was only a few inches away from the group before looking at Omega.

“You stay, the rest of you…” Pantalone glared at the other segments who immediately knew what Pantalone was saying and rushed out of the lab. Some gave you worried glances but you nodded at them. No matter how mad Pantalone or Dottore is they would never lay a hand on you. Especially not when Omega was standing with them.

“My dear lily,” Pantalone pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, “will you do me the honor and aiding me on the Doctor’s punishment?” The question had you confused. What punishment does Pantalone have in mind? And why does it involve Omega? You hesitantly nodded glancing over to Prime who seemed bored out of his mind.

“I knew you would help me.” Pantalone whispered into your ear, brushing his hand in your inner thigh. Your face heated up by the very intimate act in front of Omega and Prime. Pantalone gave a ghost of a kiss on your cheek before pulling away. He turned to Omega and whispered something that was too hard to discern. Omega had the same shit eating grin that Prime had as he nodded. Whatever Pantalone had said Omega was 100 percent on board with it. You watched as Omega walked over to Prime and shoved him down on a nearby old wooden chair. Prime looked up at Omega, confused and angered by the segment's audacity.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Prime tried to protest before Omega grabbed lab restraints and restrained him to the old chair. Prime looked around confused at Pantalone who just gave him a “friendly” smile. Once Omega assured Prime wasn’t going to escape any time soon. A final touch Omega did was toss Prime’s mask aside. Prime’s crimson red eyes glares at Omega who just chuckled while walking away from Prime. He stalked over to where you and Pantalone were. The two exchanged a nod before Omega walked over to you. You stared up at him curious on what he was going to do. Omega smashed his lips onto yours, hungrily sucking all the air of your lungs. You yelped in surprise as he continued his relentless attack on your lips. His shark teeth nibbling your bottom lip raw. A moan escaped your lips as Omega slid his rough hand up your inner thigh, resting dangerously close. You felt another more gentle hand starting to knead your breast, you tried to look around but Omega had you on a tight hold. But you can guess who it was.

“You’re doing so good my dear lily.” The familiar voice of Pantalone whispered into your ear. There was so much going on that you had no clue what’s happening. Pantalone was nibbling on your ear, Omega relentlessly attacking your lips you couldn’t help but moan in this situation. Omega pulled away smirking as he wiped some saliva that stringed along with him.

“This is entirely unfair My Lord.” Prime’s voice interrupted the moment, you glanced over seeing him pulling against his restraints, a clear strain in his pants as his face was flushed. Pantalone just chuckled, completely ignoring Prime’s complaints. He lifted you up before laying you down on his chest on the long Chesterfield couch. You felt a dip in the couch, looking up you see Omega hovering over you. A stupid smile plastered all over his face, you gasped as you felt Omega’s hand starting to brush underneath your skirt, his hand playing with the bands of your underwear. Omega chuckled as he slipped his hands into your underwear playing with your folds. You tried to muffle your moans with your hands, but was quickly slapped away by Pantalone.

“Ah ah ah, don’t muffle your voice dear. I want to hear all of you.” Pantalone smiled as he started to knead your breast pinching your nipples through your cloth breast. A loud moan ripped out of your throat as both Pantalone and Omega started to attack your sensitive areas.

“This is getting in the way.” Omega muttered as he ripped your skirt and underwear off of you. The cold freezing air gives you a shiver as the warmth you once had was now gone. Pantalone chuckled in agreement as he lifted your turtleneck, bunching it up right above your breast. Pantalone clicked his tongue in annoyance as he ripped your favorite bra off of you. You yelped in surprise and glared at Pantalone,

“That was my favorite one, you know.” Pantalone smiled as his gloved hand cupped your breast giving it a good squeeze.

“I’ll buy you another one dear.” Pantalone quickly stole a kiss muffling your moans as Omega who you almost forgot was there shoved two fingers right into your cunt. Your back arched as Omega pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Pantalone and Dottore may act gentle towards you but they were true sadists at heart. They love torturing you and that also goes for Dottore’s segments as well. Omega continued his relentless attack on your pussy as Pantalone attacked your breast, capturing your lips. You can hear Prime’s panting and groans. He was clearly trying to get out of his restraints but Omega’s knot tying skills were quite impressive. You felt as Omega pulled his fingers out of your wet mess, a whimper muffled as you tried to pull away from Pantalone’s kiss. You pulled away from Pantalone’s kiss, panting as you stared to where Omega’s eyes would be. As he kept that damned mask on. Omega chuckled as he licked your essence off his fingers. He hummed in pleasure as he gave a shark-like smile. You watched as he leaned down towards your clit. His face inches away from it which was fluttering from anticipation. You could hear Prime groan as he watched Omega connect his lips with your clit. Omega’s name falls out of your lips like a prayer to the archons as he flattens his tongue on your wet clit. Your hand tangled into his wavy light blue hair tugging it hard. Causing a groan to vibrate around your clit. Too overstimulated by Omega’s relentless attacks you didn’t notice Pantalone reaching down and freeing his hard on. It wasn’t until you felt something slapping against your bare back. A moan ripped through your throat as you felt his dick rub against you. The slick pre-crum from his dick coating your back. Omega quickly brought your attention back to him as he plunged his fingers into your soaping pussy. A mixture of moans ranged in the room, some from you but mainly from Prime who was thrown forward. His crimson eyes staring intently at you, glazed over with lust.

“How pitiful, isn't it my dear?” Pantalone's voice interrupted your trance, “He’s gotten all worked up. He could have all of this right now, but sadly, he went way over budget.” You practically feel Pantalone’s fake smile from your position. Prime just glared back at him. Before you could possibly protest Omega hit your prostate which caused a high pitch moan echoing across the lab. You continued to chant Omega’s name, trying to reach that high, the coil in your stomach feeling tight and tighter. As you felt like you were about to reach euphoria, a gloved hand ripped Omega off your clit which caused you to cry out. You were so close, so so close and it was ripped away. Pantalone tuted as he rested his head on your shoulder peering to Omega.

“Now now Omega, let’s put on an actual show for your dear creator. Hm?” Pantalone chuckled as he scooted you off his lap. Readjusting you to where you were sandwiching between Omega and Pantalone. Both of their dicks standing up straight, you licked your lips in anticipation. You’re used to Prime and Pantalone dicks plunging into you but this is the first time you’ll be taking Omega’s dick. You felt a gloved snake around your neck forcing you to make eye contact with Prime who now had a calm, dark expression. You gulped as you glanced over to Pantalone who just gave you a smile.

“Now dear, show our dear doctor a show he won’t forget.” Pantalone spoke out leaning his head against yours watching Prime’s reaction mix from calm to lust. Pantalone nodded to Omega who plunged his synthetic dick straight into your pussy. Wanton moans fall out of your mouth as Omega sets a ruthless pace, pistoning in and out of your pussy. The feeling overwhelming, your hands flew to the back of Omega’s neck pulling him closer to you. Even if you couldn’t see him you wanted him near you.

If the feeling of pure bliss couldn’t get any better you felt Pantalone finally plunge his dick into your gaping ass. He set almost the same ruthless pace, but had the timing off. As soon as Omega pulled out he would push in, and vice versa. The feeling is so overwhelming, Omega’s thin but long dick paired with Pantalone’s thick and girthy cock pounding into both of your holes. You chanted their names, straining your throat as the two whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You glanced over to Prime who was breathing heavily pulling against his restraints, the veins in his forearm popping by the sheer force he’s pulling out. You couldn’t help but moan his name, Pantalone smirked against your skin.

“Go on dear, keep saying his name. Show him what he’s missing. This is his punishment.” Not wanting to displease Pantalone you started to moan Prime’s name as the two continued to pound against you. It felt so good, the familiar knot started to form in your stomach.

“C-cum, want- ngh~ to cum” You tried to say but the ruthless pounding made it really hard for you to say anything.

“Hm, You want to cum dear?” Omega smirked as he halted his movements. Whining by the loss of movement. Omega chuckled as he started to bite against your neck. You nodded feverishly, trying to repeat what you said but only moans escaped your mouth.

“What do you say my lord, do we let her cum?” Omega teased, peering over your shoulder, Pantalone hummed as he started to slow his pace. You whine from the lost sensation, the knot slowly disappearing.

“Please! P-please let me cum sir, please” You begged, normally when you're not in this situation you would have argued with Pantalone. This was Dottore’s punishment, not yours! So why won’t they let you cum? Pantalone seemed to have read your mind before he returned back to his brutal pace.

“She’s been such a good darling for us. So why not?” Pantalone smiled as Omega started his relentless pace again.So did your moans, your wanton moans and chants filling up the lab as the two men bite deep into your shoulder. Omega’s bite specifically draws blood. The knot quickly came back coiling so tight that after one praise from Omega had you coming undone from the two men.

“Cumming, cumming.” You stated the obvious, the two helped you ride your high. But as you thought they would slow down their pace they did not let up. Startled and overstimulated, you gasped and rasped a moan as the two continued their pace.

“We haven’t cum yet dear, it would be unfair for you to only have fun.” Pantalone cooed as he grunted. Your senses were so overstimulated you couldn’t help but throw your head back on Pantalone’s shoulder. You just let the two men have their way, letting them chase their high. Feeling their dicks piston in and out of your greedy holes, sucking them whole. Omega moans started to get louder and louder as he reached his high, he gave his hips one final snap as he unloaded his cum all into your greedy pussy. You moan by the weird sensation that filled you, Omega’s cum wasn’t like true come but felt more like fake cum. Your thoughts quickly snap as you feel Pantalone groan as grinded his hips against yours allowing your ass to milk his cum dry. Pantalone gave a content sigh as he dropped his head on your shoulder. You panted as you let your body relax into Pantalone’s chest. Omega gave a small chuckle as he leaned over and gave a tender kiss on your neck.

“You did so good my dear.” Omega whispered. A loud ripping sound snapped your thoughts over to the source. You looked up spotting Dottore towering over you guys. His crimson eyes glaring down at Omega who just smiled pulling out and stuffing his dick back inside his pants.

“Out.” Is all prime said as Omega took his sweet time walking out of the lab.

“If you need me darling, you know where I’ll be.” Omega smiled at you as he dodged a knife that was thrown at his head by Prime. You looked up at Prime who had such lust filled eyes.

“I believe your punishment was suficay.” Pantalone smiled as he got up from the couch. Prime just grumbled as he tried to kiss you but you were quickly pulled up and into Pantalone’s arm, bridal style.

“Ah ah, our dear is tired and doesn’t have the energy to fulfill your needs.” Pantalone gave him a shit eating grin as he started to carry you out of the lab.

“She’s our darling if you have forgot.” Prime practically growls. Pantalone hummed as he grabbed one of Dottore’s lab coats draping it over your exposed body.

“Yes but she’s clearly tired, so good day doctor.” Pantalone chuckled as he left Dottore alone in his lab hot and bothered. Dottore felt his jaw crack as he grabbed the nearest beaker and threw against the ground. He’s going to get back at Pantalone, he knows just how to do so.

#gensin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #female reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #fatui harbingers

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gretavangroupie · 19 days

Text

Goldenrod

Word count: 8.1k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Angst, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Jealousy. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I blame Josh Kiszka, entirely.

It’s a nice place, with tea light candles and fresh flowers on every table. Tucked away on the West side of Nashville, far from the wide eyed tourists and the flashing city lights. It’s quaint, but always busy. A reservation here would cost you. A name or your checkbook, either one will do. You wonder how he managed it, who he knows or what he does. You’d been here only once before, strings pulled and names dropped no doubt.

The hostess led you to your table, smack dab in the center of the restaurant, commanding all the eyes and attention of the patrons around you. With a curt smile you tucked into your chair and waited for your date. You weren’t really sure why you agreed to this, but after several failed attempts on your own you finally caved. Cambry is a terrible influence and you knew better than to go on a date with a man of her choosing, but here you found yourself in a swanky restaurant at a table for two.

You didn’t put too much effort into your outfit, opting for a tight black dress and a pair of gold earrings. It showed off your figure without revealing too much. It was tasteful and sexy, everything you want on a first date.

You knew nothing of the man you were meeting apart from his name. Simon. Cambry assured you that he was perfect for you, claiming how similar the two of you were and citing you had similar taste in music. So, you agreed.

You couldn’t fault him too much for being late, the traffic absolutely horrendous as you made your way through Midtown. You perused the drink menu, placing your order for a dirty martini when the waiter stopped at your table. As you sipped at the briney drink you felt a presence behind you, and you knew Simon must have arrived.

A tall man, with long dirty blonde hair stepped up to the seat across from you, lifting his hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m Simon. Sorry I’m late, the traffic–”

“Was terrible, I know,” you laugh, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

He takes his seat as his eyes dart around your face taking you in. “You got a drink I see, any recommendations? I’ve never been here before.”

“I was wondering how you were able to pull a reservation so last minute,” you answer, pushing the drink menu towards him.

“Ah, called up one of my buddies, works tickets down at Nissan Stadium. Was no trouble,” he boasts as if entry level ticket sales is something to be proud of.

You smile politely and nod your head, “I got a dirty martini, they are heavy handed on the vermouth so I order gin instead of vodka.”

“Dirty, huh?” he smirks, opening the drink menu.

You offer a clipped smile, already not liking this guy too much. His frat boy vibes are a little too strong for your liking, and quite frankly is the opposite of what you have ever been into. The waiter steps up a few seconds later, noticing that your date has arrived.

“What can I get for you sir?”

“I don’t know what all this fancy shit is, do you have Bud Light?” he asks, rapping his knuckles against the table.

“Um, no sir, I believe the only beer we have on tap is Thunder Ann from Jackalope,” he offers with a pleasant smile.

“Was that English?” Simon jokes, however, it is not well received by your waiter or yourself.

“I could bring you a sample if you’d like?”

He blows out a breath of defeat, “I’ll just have what she’s having, but make mine stronger.”

You raise an eyebrow at his demand, silently kicking yourself for ever agreeing to this.

The waiter nods and heads off and a sense of dread washes over you as you realize you are about to enter into forced conversation with this stranger.

“So how do you know Cambry?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he's at his mothers house.

You swallow down the distaste and try to answer his question, “Cambry and I work together. She is my office suitemate.”

“Oh so you work at the little music place, too?” he asks, downplaying your career to boost his own ego.

“I don’t think Sony Music Publishing is a ‘little music place’ but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you jest.

“What do you do there?” he asks, accepting his drink from the waiter. He takes far too large of a sip before you can answer, shocking the both of you.

“I’m an account executive, so I do sales, client management, data reports, that kind of thing. How about you? What do you do?” you ask, genuinely curious about what he could possibly do that he would need to belittle your career.

“Oh well, right now I am kinda just playing the corporate field so to speak. I’ve got a few sweet options in my pocket, but uh, right now I am working down at AT&T. You know that Batman looking building. It’s pretty chill,” he says in an attempt to flaunt.

“Yeah, I know it well actually. What do you do there?” you ask.

“I’m a field sales representative,” he answers, his voice dropping a little. You feel your eyes practically bulge from their sockets.

“So, you don’t like, physically work in the building,” you confirm.

“I mean, I report there at the end of the day,” he replies, trying to blow smoke.

“So if you report there at the end of the day, where do you spend your day?” you ask.

“Kind of everywhere. I do a lot of driving around. I was able to secure a deal with a new Mexican restaurant over in Hendersonville. They want full fiber and phones. Pretty sweet, might even make a commission on it,” he says pridefully.

“Wow, a commission too? They are spoiling you,” you taunt.

“Yeah, I’m about to move up, gonna put me into commercial sales. More office time and less road time,” he says, folding up his menu. Your mind is positively racing at how Cambry thought you two would be a perfect match when he couldn’t be more different than you.

“So uh, what are you thinking you want to eat?” he asks.

“I think I might do the farmhouse pasta, the sun dried tomatoes sound good,” you answer, closing your menu as well.

“Yeah I’m gonna get a steak, I bet they are good here,” he says waving over the waiter. Your face blushes red as he makes a scene to grab his attention.

“Yes sir, we are ready to order,” Simon states, opening up his menu. “I’m gonna have the Porterhouse with mushrooms well done and can you bring a side of ketchup?”

You think that if your eyes rolled any harder you could see your brain, but alas you must keep your composure and make it through this trainwreck of a date.

“For you miss?”

“Yes, could I please do the farmhouse pasta? I will also do one more dirty martini,” you smile, hoping the waiter can sense the apology in your tone.

“Great, I will be back,” he says, stepping away with the gentle nod of his head.

The evening continues on as you listen to him tell you every uninteresting fact about himself while he dips his shoe leather of a steak in ketchup. You have a hard time finding your own meal appetizing as you watch him eat, a tiny dribble of ketchup at the corner of his lips. He barely gives you a chance to speak as he relives his fraternity glory days, telling you every close call he has ever had with the police and every famous person’s door he’s knocked on since he moved here from Mississippi.

You down your drink probably a little too fast, trying to decide if you will need another to make it through the last part of this date. You know you will never speak to this man again, and you know you will be giving Cambry a firm talking to come Monday morning.

The waiter steps up to the table with the check, placing it in front of Simon who sends him a puzzled look. “Oh, actually she’s getting the check tonight.”

“Am I?” you ask, a little confused yourself. You had no problem going dutch, but to be told you were taking the entire responsibility of the bill was a bit of a shock.

“I mean, yeah, Cambry said you wanted this date, so… I figured since it was your idea, you were paying. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You feel your mouth go dry at the audacity of his assumption. “I have no problem going dutch,” you say.

“Yeah, it’s just I didn’t bring my wallet,” he counters, shrugging his shoulders. “I can Venmo you later or something.”

You bite your tongue as you reach for your purse, knowing there is an extremely high chance that this meal will drain his checking account.

“It’s fine, I can get it. No problem,” you say, pulling your wallet from your purse. Just as you unzip it you feel someone walk up behind you, and the sight of a hand on the waiter's arm. The person leans towards the waiter, saying something quietly in his ear as he slips a silver metal credit card into his hand.

As you look up you recognize the mass of curls and the crisp white linen. The smell of his cologne forever ingrained in your memory. Your eyes flash over to Simon who is just as confused as you are, watching the interaction. A few more words are spoken between the waiter and the man you now know is Josh. Your ex.

The waiter scurries off with Josh’s card just as he turns to face you with a shit eating grin. He then casts a lethal glance to Simon, who at this point is looking rather small.

“Don’t you know it's distasteful to make your date pay?” he asks, venom in his voice.

“And you are?” Simon snaps.

“Well, from my place at the bar I thought I was the competition, but now I’m fairly positive that is not the case. My name is Josh, and I would ask yours but quite frankly I don’t care to know.”

“Josh!” you yelp.

“What darling, you can’t deny the facts. I’ve been sitting at the bar since you arrived. Was quite the unexpected show, I must admit,” he pauses, “If I’ve misjudged your evening, which, I’m sure I haven’t based on your body language alone, please do feel free to correct me.”

“We’re actually on a date, man,” Simon speaks up, taking you and Josh both by surprise as you turn to stare at him.

Josh just snickers, shaking his head before turning to you. “Have you had enough, sweets?”

“What do you want, Joshua?” you ask, a little annoyed at his brazenness.

He cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gives you a knowing look, “Is this what you want? You want me to go?”

You push his hand away and cross your arms over your chest, refusing to answer his question.

“Fuck this,” Simon spouts, pushing away from the table and storming out of the restaurant.

Josh quickly takes his seat, sitting across from you as he folds his hands on the table. “You’re welcome,” he taunts, accepting the check book back from the waiter.

“A pleasure Mr. Kiszka,” he nods, walking away.

“Mr. Kiszka? They know you by name here?” you groan, watching a sideways grin pull across his full lips. His eyes glance down to the plate of half eaten food in front of him.

“A well done steak with ketchup? My, my, darling have your standards dipped that low?” he asks, signing the receipt and closing the book. You roll your eyes and reach for your martini glass, however his hand snakes out to grab it first, tossing the rest of it back.

“What the hell,” you growl.

“You dumped me for a broke asshole?” he asks, sitting back in the chair.

“He might have been broke, but I bet he could fuck me more than once every three months,” you snap, pulling ammo from your failed past.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Now, now, retract the claws sweetness, be my good girl, yeah?”

“I’m not your anything, Josh, and I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I can promise you it’s not.”

He stabs at the olive in the martini glass, popping it between his lips. “You sure about that?”

“You completely derailed my date,” you bark.

“Oh, please Y/N. You were ready to go the moment he introduced himself, late, might I add. You were entirely repulsed through dinner, and you couldn't get a word in edgewise. It may have been a year or so since we called it quits, but I still know you like the back of my hand, darling.”

“You don’t know me like that anymore, Josh.”

He chews the olive as a hum rings through his chest, “Is that why your thighs are clenched together under the table right now, for the first time tonight? Why you can’t seem to sit still, squirming everytime I look at you? The pretty pink blush on your cheeks that happened to appear as soon as I stole his seat? Because I just don’t know you anymore?”

You shake your head and look away, pushing him out of your mind.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, and instinctually you turn your head. “Own it.”

You meet his eyes and huff out an annoyed breath. “You can’t just walk up to me and think we are going to pick up where we left off. I left you for a reason, Josh.”

“Are you ready to go now that you’ve said your piece?” he asks, pushing his chair away from the table.

“I drove myself here, and I’ll drive myself home,” you quip.

“After two martinis, I don’t think so, sweetness. I’ll send for your car in the morning,” he insists.

“Send for my car? What are you, the Pope?”

“Only the one time if you remember correctly,” he jokes, offering his hand to help you stand from your chair. You take it begrudgingly, grabbing your purse and smoothing out your dress.

“Stunning as usual, love. You know I love that silhouette on you,” he says, ushering the two of you out the door and into the parking lot. He drives a different car now, which is probably why you didn't recognize it in the lot when you arrived.

“It wasn’t for you,” you gripe.

“But it was for him? Mister can’t even split the check?” he counters.

“Again, he may not be made of money, but he at least listened the few times I was able to get a word in,” you snap.

Josh sucks his teeth as he opens the passenger door, helping you climb inside. It’s spacious and smells of new leather. A string of beads hangs from the rearview mirror and a tiny crystal lays haphazardly in the center console. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and backing out of the parking space.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, although you’re fairly certain you know the answer.

“Home,” he snickers, taking a right out of the parking lot.

“You don’t know where I live, I moved,” you say, shifting your body in the seat.

“No, no. I said, I am taking you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you ask, fully lying to yourself and to him and he knows it.

“I did always like it when you played hard to get,” he smiles, moving his hand to rest on your bare leg. “But your body gives you away everytime.”

“Where’d you find him?” he asks, letting his eyes flick over to yours for just a second.

“Cambry,” you answer, a twinge of defeat in your voice.

“Cambry? Come on, baby, you know she has the worst taste in men,” he groans, merging onto the freeway with ease.

“I didn’t really have a choice, and she oversold him, clearly,” you answer.

“So you’re still at Sony, then?”

“I am, though I’ve been considering a career change, maybe even a city change,” you lie.

“Had enough of Nashville?” he jests.

“The people that reside here,” you taunt.

“Fair enough,” he concedes.

His fingers trace circles into your skin, lighting little fires with every pass. “You stopped answering my calls,” he trails off.

“That is typical of a break up Josh…”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

“What can I call you?” he asks.

“Nothing, you can take me home and send my car in the morning,” you answer.

His grip on your leg tightens, his thumb passing over your knee. You feel warm beneath his touch, a calmness washing over you. This is always how he got you.

“It was one fight, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but–” he shouts, losing his calm and cool composure for a millisecond.

“Josh…” you whine, not wanting to hash this out again.

As you pull up to a red light he turns to look at you, moving his hand from your leg and grabbing your hand instead.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just– come over for a little bit. Let’s talk. Catch up a little. Don’t let your night be a complete loss, you look too pretty. Let me appreciate you,” he says, squeezing your hand.

Your eyes meet his, sparkling and encased by his thick lashes. “Okay,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, “Yes, fine. Just to catch up.”

The light changes and you swear he did twenty over the speed limit the rest of the way to his house. He has a smirk on his lips that he can’t seem to shake, and his hand hasn't left yours.

“Why were you at the bar alone?” you ask, the gin making you feel a little more brave than usual.

“I like the food, and they make my drink the right way. You know I don’t like going into the city, too many people, and the guys were all busy tonight. I think I was right where I needed to be though. Got you out of that shitty date,” he laughs.

“It was pretty shitty,” you agree, flashing him a smile.

“Missed that,” he says, turning into his driveway. “That smile. Lights up a room.”

“Stop,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Don’t suck up now after you were all bossy and demanding at the restaurant.”

“Worked though,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders and shutting off the car.

“Did it?”

“You’re here…” he says, tipping his chin.

“To talk. To catch up,” you counter.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he says, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you. He guides you up to the front door with his hand on the small of your back, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door.

You’re instantly transported back in time. A time when this was your safe place, when this was your landing pad of comfort. A home you shared together. Warm and welcoming. Until, it wasn’t. It was a big empty house with nothing but the echo of your own voice for months on end. The place you would listen to your calls ring out with no answer and texts would sit on delivered for days.

It was hard to leave him, your personal ray of light. The good times were the greatest, and the bad times were worse than the worst. You met your breaking point and all you could think of was starting over. Living a normal life with a normal job and a normal relationship.

You’d grown a little since that day, finding yourself and establishing your own roots in the city. You cut off contact completely. Josh never gave up though. He was persistent, you’d give him that. He tried to reconcile things, promised to fix it, promised to do better, but after so many failed attempts, you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to see this through, for yourself.

It took almost a year but he did stop calling. Stopped checking in. Your heart ached for him. You wondered if you’d made a mistake. You knew you never really stopped loving him. How could you stop loving someone like him? He took your heart and cast it in gold, giving a piece of himself to you to carry when he was away, but still it wasn’t enough. You needed more than he could give you then.

“You redecorated,” you ponder.

“A bit. Just some new furniture, art and things I picked up on the road,” he says, tossing his keys on the table. “You like it?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I do. It feels very… you.” you pause, “It feels warm.”

He walks into the kitchen, pulling two lowball glasses from the cabinet before reaching for the tequila on top of the fridge. He holds the bottle up towards you in question and you nod your head, knowing you aren’t leaving tonight.

He pours the tequila into the glasses, topping them with sparkling water and a handful of ice as you walk over to join him. He slides the glass to you and holds his up to tap against yours.

“Glad you’re here, baby,” he breathes.

“Josh…”

“Sorry, old habit,” he blushes, taking a sip of his drink.

You join him, taking a long pull from the glass letting the bubbles slip down your throat. He made it perfect, just how you like it.

“Shall we?” he asks, pushing off the counter top and making his way into the living room. You follow behind him taking the seat next to him on the couch. You settle into the leather cushions as he shoots up again.

“Wait, hold on,” he says, walking across the room. He struts across the wood floors carrying himself in a way much different than you have ever seen him. He looks confident and seems to be floating. He grabs a small remote and turns down the lights, casting the room in a much dimmer light.

“Do you always walk around like that?” you ask, sipping from the rim of your glass.

“Like what?” he asks, returning to his place next to you.

“Like…like you’re made of gold,” you giggle, letting the tequila warm your blood.

“What if I am?” he challenges.

“What, made of gold?”

“Mhmm,” he hums.

“Kinda seems like it sometimes,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

“You kinda glow,” you answer.

“Optical illusion, sweets,” he grins.

“I don’t know, you’ve always kinda been that way. Glowy…” you offer, feeling a little hazy.

“You flirting with me now?” he asks, his lips turning up into a grin.

“No,” you growl, “Can I not give you a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Please do continue, I’m quite enjoying it,” he laughs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. His fingertips brush your shoulder and you shudder at the contact.

“Has it been that long, darling?”

“What?” you question, turning to meet his eyes. His fingers graze against your skin again, goosebumps rising to the surface.

“Oh, say it isn’t so, baby. Break my heart,” he whines.

“What, Josh?”

“You’re touch starved aren’t you sweetness,” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie. You look away, knowing he was always able to read you like a book.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he snaps. You turn your head and meet his eyes again. “Don’t lie to me again. You know that never went well for you.”

You bite your lips together as your cheeks grow red hot. Part of you wants to push him a little more, force him to make good on his threat. The other part of you knows you should leave before he sucks you in.

“Tell me how long,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of your neck.

You blow out a breath and shake your head, “It’s not important,” you answer.

“Is to me, always important to me,” he urges.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know that you were being taken care of,” he pauses, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“It’s been… a minute,” you confess.

“Baby,” he breathes.

“It’s fine, Josh. Really.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “How long, love? You can tell me. It’s just me.”

“God! Since we split! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! That I haven’t fucked anyone since you?!” you shout, burying your head in your hands. You feel his hand rest on your back, warm and firm.

“Oh, my love. No wonder you’re so feisty. Wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. My girl needs a little relief, doesn’t she,” he asks.

You turn your head in your hands to look at him, his face serious and dripping with lust. You push yourself up off of the couch, pacing around the living room.

“I don’t want your pity, Josh.”

“It’s not pity darling, you’d know if it was,” he retorts.

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want it,” you snap.

He blows out a deep breath and clears his throat, “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth tonight,” he growls. “Why don’t you come back over here and try again, yeah?”

You stare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest in an effort to conceal your nipples that have grown hard just from the demanding quality of his voice.

“You can drop the act, I know you want me just as bad as I want you. If you want me to beg, crawl on my hands and knees for you, you know I’ll do it, but I think your body is begging for me harder than I ever could.”

You roll your eyes, and look away.

“Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong.”

You huff out a breath, “No,” you whisper.

“What’s that?”

“I said no,” you answer.

A smirk pulls across his lips, “No, what?”

You feel your chest grow warm and you swallow thickly, “No, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me sir, that's my brother. Try again, love.”

“No, baby,” you breathe.

“That’s better. Much better. Come back over here,” he says, motioning you over with two fingers.

He reaches for your hand as you approach him, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs fall to either side of his hips as you straddle him, the position feeling familiar and comforting.

“There’s my girl,” he growls, leaning forward to place his drink on the coffee table. His hands move to grip at your hips, holding you in place as he sinks a little further beneath you. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying this, feeling his hands on you and the evidence of his want as it grew beneath you.

“Not yours, Josh,” you say, letting your hands land on his chest.

“Liar,” he breathes, rolling his hips into you, eliciting a whine from your chest. You hear him laugh, “Your body says otherwise.”

“My body has never been able to say no to you,” you admit.

“And that's what I love about it, baby. Mine even when you aren’t.”

A sigh falls from your lips as his thumb drags over your lips, “Kiss me, Josh,” you beg.

A grin pulls across his lips as he pulls you by the back of your neck towards him. His soft, warm lips brush yours just slightly, enough to pull a whine from your chest.

“Now who’s begging?” he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, dark and lust filled before he crashes his lips to yours. His hands grip at your head as if he’s afraid you might fly away, his fingers twisting into your hair.

His tongue slides against yours, the taste of him so sweet and familiar. There would never be anyone that tasted better, you were sure of it. His hands slid down your face and over your shoulders, reaching for your hands as they sat on his chest. He wrapped his hands around yours, linking his fingers with yours the best he could, just holding you in a way you’ve desperately missed over the last year without him.

“Josh…” you breathe.

His lips break away from yours, his cheeks pink and his lips glossy, “Yeah, baby?”

You hesitate asking your question, momentarily debating whether you truly want to know or not, but you know if this night is going to continue, you have to know.

“How long…” you pause, “How long for you?” It comes out breathless, his warm hands in yours as his lips hover over yours.

He pulls back a touch, licking his lips and swallowing harshly, “A month or two,” he answers honestly.

Your traitorous eyes fill with tears and you do your best to blink them away. You drop your head in an effort to conceal your emotions, knowing this is all entirely your fault to begin with. His hand releases yours and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“They were never you. Not a single one of them could ever be you.”

You nod your head and swallow the lump in your throat, “Then why?”

“It’s been a year, baby. I never thought I’d have you again,” he confesses.

“But you want me?” you ask, just wanting to hear him say it.

“Is that not clear? Of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you. You stopped wanting me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I just– It was too hard, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt too much.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, holding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I messed up. I’ve thought of it every single day since you left. I’m so sorry.”

You can see it in his eyes that he means it this time. The urgency in his voice and the trembling of his hands against your face prove it. You decide at that moment to cast the memories of the past to the wind and fall headfirst into him, the way you’ve dreamt of for months.

You press your lips to his, smiling, “Tequila always did make you all mushy, baby.”

A smile pulls across his lips as he stands from the couch, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he makes his way to the stairs. His lips connect to your jaw, peppering kisses up and down your neck with every step he takes.

It’s seconds before you’re tossed onto the bed. The bed you’ve missed so terribly. The bed that smells of him and his linen sheets. You melt into the comforter, your body relaxing almost immediately. Your eyes close and all you can hear is the shedding of clothes across the room, and the tinkling of beads as Josh places his necklace on the dresser.

You feel his hand as it comes to rest on your foot, sliding up the length of your body and stopping just as it reaches the hem of your dress. You sit up on your elbows to look at him, standing at the end of the bed in his boxers.

His gaze is fixed upon you, devouring your every inch.

“Joshy?” you breathe.

He drops his head for a second before looking back at you, “God I haven’t heard that in so long,” he whines. “What sweetness?”

“Come lay down with me,” you ask.

He licks his lips and crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you and resting his hand on your hip. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you whisper, rolling towards him. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart as it pounds erratically in his chest.

“I missed this bed,” you whisper against his skin.

“I missed you in this bed,” he pauses, “Terribly lonely without you.”

“Not too lonely it sounds like,” you tease, sitting up and stepping off of the bed.

“Baby, I–”

“I’m kidding, Josh. I don’t mind. Well, not completely anyway.”

You pull the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and instinctively kicking it to the chair at the side of the bed like you'd done a thousand times before.

“So you care a little?” he smirks, taking in the sight of your matching lingerie. “Jesus, was that for him?”

“If all went well,” you answer cheekily, crawling back onto the bed.

“Over my dead body,” he growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you to lay on top of him.

“It was for me. I needed a little confidence boost.”

“Baby, what? Why? You were always so confident and cool,” he asks, furrowing his brow.

“Not lately… A few failed dates will do that to you I guess,” you admit.

“No, no no no no. Don’t let a few pricks dull your glow, sweetness. You’re everything. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You push up off of him, crawling backwards down the bed as you place a few errant kisses across his stomach. Your eyes never leave his as you stop above his waistband, sliding your nails against the elastic.

“What if I never wanted them,” you ask.

He sucks in a breath as your finger dips beneath the band, slightly tugging at the fabric.

“What do you want?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You pull his boxers over his hips watching his cock spring free to slap against his groin. You take him in your hand, watching as his face twists up in pleasure.

“Tell me,” he growls through gritted teeth.

Instead of answering him you let your tongue lick a hot stripe from his base to his tip, tasting the bitter sweetness of his precum on your tongue. His core tightens as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his length, feeling every vein and the rapid pulse pounding through him.

His hand finds the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches you take him down so easily, remembering exactly how he likes it. You grip his base as you work him, hollowing your cheeks as you eyes meet his. His lips are parted, a heavy breath leaving his chest as his grip on your hair tightens. You take him farther, swallowing around his tip as he nudges the back of your throat, sending him spiraling in his own bliss.

“Fuck, baby, please…” he begs.

You pop off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” he asnwers, panting as he desperately awaits your mouths return to him.

“I’m kind of enjoying myself here,” you tease, taking him into your throat again.

“Fucking hell, you’re so goddamn sexy. I fucking– I–” he stammers, groaning as you swallow around him again.

“You think of this, baby? You miss sucking my cock? My good fucking girl,” he asks, jerking his hips up off of the bed. “You think of me like I think of you?”

You groan as your tongue swirls at his tip, letting your eyes meet his.

“Answer me,” he demands.

You pull off of him quickly, a spit covered mess, “Yes, yes baby,” you whine.

“Missed your mouth, your perfect fucking mouth. Your lips, your tongue, everything,” he growls, a moan leaving his chest as you suction your mouth around him. “Pull off baby, not yet. Not ready yet.”

You do as you're told, pulling off of him and wiping your lips on the back of your hand. He grabs your chin and pulls you toward him, his wet cock laying against your panties. His lips meet yours, swollen and pink and still glistening with your spit. He’s desperate to taste you, to devour you completely. You feel his hands slide over your waist and up to your bra, unclasping the hooks and pulling the straps from your arms. He pulls it from between you in one move, before turning you to your back to take in the sight of you.

His eyes practically bulge from his head as he looks at you. “You– You pierced your nipples? When did you? Wha– Fucking Christ.”

A smile spreads across your face. It's not very often you can catch Josh off guard like this, so you’re taking this small victory.

“About seven months ago, on a whim,” you answer.

“Anything else I should know about before I have a stroke?” he laughs.

“Why don’t you just find out?” you say playfully, just wanting to see his reaction.

He pulls the elastic of your panties over your hips, tossing the lacy garment to the floor. His tongue darts out over his lips as he looks at you, as if deciding where he wants to start. Though, you knew Josh, and he would forever be a victim to his own fascination with shiny objects.

His lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue gently flicking over the golden barbell. You lace your fingers into his curls, scratching at his roots as his teeth graze the sensitive bud in his mouth.

“Josh,” you whine, arching your back beneath him.

“Mhmm,” he whines, not letting his lips detach from you.

“Missed your touch,” you answer.

He pulls off of your right breast and kisses his way to your left, treating your left nipple with the same reverence as the previous. You grab his hand and pull his fingers to your lips, sucking his first two digits into your mouth and letting your tongue twist against them.

You hear him groan against you, the sensation becoming a little too overwhelming for him.

“You okay, baby?”

He pulls off of you, still staring down at the shiny gold bars adorning your nipples.

“No, fuck no, I’m never gonna stop thinking about these,” he says through a pant.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest as his hand meets your chest, sliding down your stomach and stopping at your hip.

“You gonna let me in, sweetness?” he asks, biting at his bottom lip.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you look at him, nodding gently. His hand slides down further, his fingers dusting across your folds. Your body quivers at his gentle touch, a small grin of satisfaction on his lips.

“You want it?”

“Stop teasing, Josh,” you whine.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you need it. I’ll give you what you want. You know that, right?”

You nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you. Needing it more than anything. “Yes, yes, I know. Please…”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to your stomach, two fingers sinking into your wetness. You jerk towards him as his fingertips press to your clit, a whine escaping your lips before you can stop it. He hums as his fingers start to circle through your wetness, his lip bitten firmly between his teeth. His eyes are dark as they stare into yours, watching your every move and memorizing every expression.

“You feel so good, baby. Missed this so bad,” he breathes, teasing your entrance.

“You could have had anyone,” you whisper.

“I didn’t want anyone. Just you.”

His fingers dip into you, finding the place they once knew so well. Your hand moves to rest on his bicep, stronger now than they once were, the muscle rounded and defined. In fact, all of him is that way. Lean and fit, stronger and more chiseled. The thought alone makes you clench around his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“You feel so– so different. Stronger,” you say.

“Needed something to fill the time,” he smiles, curling his fingers inside of you. You cry out in bliss as your stomach starts to tighten.

“So good, baby,” you cry.

“Yeah, you gonna come for me? You gonna come right on my fingers, so needy and sweet,” he urges. His fingers are moving rapidly, working you toward your release better than you could have imagined.

“Ease into it, baby. Don’t rush it. I’m right here, not going anywhere. I’m yours,” he says, his voice soft and comforting.

Your eyes meet his, desperate and lust filled, “Mine?”

He nods his head quickly, “Yours,” he pauses, “If you want, I just– I’m here, okay? Take your time, feel it. Breathe it in, savor it. I’m here.”

“I want it,” you plead.

“Have it, have me,” he breathes.

His fingers move at a relentless pace, fingertips massaging into you with such precision it’s like a year never passed. Your chest grows hot and your stomach tightens as his eyes meet yours, both of you knowing you’re on the edge of release.

“Do it. Take it baby,” he growls.

“Josh,” you whine, reaching for his hand and twisting your fingers with his. His grip is tight on you, grounding you the way you need him to.

With another flick of his thumb across your clit, you’re sent spiraling into your release. You’d never been able to replicate the way it feels when it's by his hand, and you were sure no other man could. His hand slows as your eyes open, finding his full of desire as they stare back at you.

He grins as he presses a kiss to your mound, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, the want for him coursing through you like never before. You need him. You need him now.

“Josh, now,” you pant, your chest still heaving as you catch your breath.

He doesn’t hesitate. There are no witty remarks, no jokes, no playful banter at all. Just the need the two of you share for each other taking center stage. He pushes up and crawls up towards you, falling into the space between your legs. He pushes them further apart with his knees, fisting at his base as he stares at you. You swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest, and you know he needs this as badly as you do.

He lowers himself down to you, brushing his tip through your folds. Your hands come up to his face, cradling his cheeks as you press your lips to his. It's different this time, a little less desperate, more intentional. He lets himself slowly sink inside of you as his lips dance with yours, filling you so fully and so completely, the way he always had.

He bottoms out inside of you, sliding his arm beneath your hips to pull you in close. His eyes meet yours in question and you nod, letting him know you need more. He begins to slowly move his hips, rolling into you at a fairly gentle pace, soaking in every inch of you and savoring every sound that falls from your lips.

Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, desperate for all of him. He groans as your chest presses against his, the coolness of the metal bars against his warm, dewy skin pulling a groan from his chest.

“Baby,” he whines, snapping his hips into you a little harder.

“Josh,” you answer, more of a moan.

“I need this,” he says, moving his hand to cradle your jaw. “I need you.”

“I know, baby,” you cry out, “I know. I need you, too. I fucking need you.”

He groans as he drops his head, letting his lips connect with your neck. His hot tongue slides against your skin before he sucks the skin into a fresh pink bite. His pace quickens, his skin slick with sweat as he pounds into you.

“Tell me that you think someone could fuck you better than this,” he growls.

“Fuck, no. No one. No one but you, Josh. I only want you,” you answer, gripping your fingers into his ass.

His demeanor changes, he’s grown animalistic, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he nears the peak of his release.

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore,” he demands.

“Josh, I–”

“Say it,” he barks.

“I do! I do love you! You know I still fucking love you!” you cry, feeling the coil tighten in your groin.

A cry falls from his chest, echoing around the room as his lips crash to yours. It's rough and desperate, and you know you just told him everything he’s been waiting to hear.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he pants, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

You nod your head desperately, needing to feel his lips on yours again. His strokes start to quicken, hitting you long and deep as you both teeter on the edge of your orgasm. The wet sounds dancing through the air are deafening, and the heat of his breath on your face has you dizzy.

“Josh, baby,” you whine, knowing you won't last much longer.

“Yeah? Yeah you gonna come again? Bloom like a pretty flower just for me?” he urges, knowing the sound of his voice will push you over the edge. He nods his head, and bites his bottom lip as he watches you, squirming and panting beneath him as his cock hits you right where it belongs.

“Come on sweetness, be my pretty flower, come for me,” he whispers against your lips.

His hand cups at your breast as his fingers brush your piercing, letting his thumb and forefinger pinch at your nipple. The sensation is enough to bring you to the brink, letting you dive headfirst into your release. You cry out beneath him, his name falling from your lips in succession.

“Just like that, my love. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he says, pulling you closer to him as his hips continue to work you through it. “I’m there sweetheart, tell me where.”

“You know where, I’m yours,” you plead.

He snaps his hips into you again, holding you in place as he spills inside of you, the most beautiful noises falling from his lips. He comes down, loosening his grip on your hips as he falls slack on top of you. Your arms wrap around him, your hand drifting up into his sweaty curls as he catches his breath.

“I mean it,” he breathes, “I do love you.” He props his head up on your chest, letting his eyes meet yours.

“You know I love you, Josh.”

He cranes his neck forward and kisses you again, and you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “Does this mean you’ll come home? Let me love you again?”

“Is that you asking me?” you tease.

“I’ll call the movers right now,” he taunts.

“You forgive me for leaving you in the first place?” you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“I deserved it. I know what I lost.”

“I keep my apartment,” you counter.

“But you’ll be with me when I’m here?” he asks with questioning eyes.

“If that’s what you want,” you answer.

“No more dates with assholes who don’t deserve you?” he smirks.

“No more dates, just you,” you nod.

“I’ll do it right this time, give you everything. I promise.”

His lips press to yours, soft and sweet and barely there, sealing his promise and setting your heart aflame. He rolls off of you, laying next to you as close as he can get.

“You said I’m your flower,” you pause, “What kind?”

He pulls you into his side, hitching your leg up over his waist. “Hmm, a poppy perhaps? A bright red one, maybe orange.”

You giggle at the fact he has picked such an outlandish flower. “Why’s that?”

He turns his head to look at you and raises his eyebrow playfully, “The seeds are an opiate and can provide intense pleasure to the consumer, and you, my sweets, are certainly a drug to me.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, feeling him pull you in tighter. He kisses your head and lets out a sigh.

“What about me, am I a flower, darling?”

“Of course you are,” you pause, looking at him. “Too easy, you’re Goldenrod.”

“Isn’t that a weed?” he laughs, running his fingertips against your bare thigh.

“Technically, but it’s beautiful. It’s wild and free and vibrant. Thrives in the warm sunshine and sways in the breeze. They’re made of gold, just like you,” you smile, flashing him a wink.

“Although, it is poisonous,” you add.

He rolls to face you completely, cupping your face in his hand as he smiles, “You know what they say…”

“What’s that,” you question.

“The worst poison always tastes the sweetest.”

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hanafubukki · 4 months

Note

OMG, hello! As someone who is weak for this single bat dad, I love your Lilia work. We always see MC being sent to meet General Lilia and co in the past or in a dream but I wanna ask you what would happen if General Lilia was the one sent to present time, where Lilia and F!reader are already a couple and meeting current Lilia. Like, General Lilia still doesn't like humans but he feels attracted to reader and current Lilia would be such a little shit about it. I can't help but imagine him just kissing reader while staring at General Lilia in the eye or hugging them from behind while reader talks to General Lilia and giving him the biggest Cheshire grin. He's not jealous or anything but is such a troll about it...

Hello Calico-Queen 🌺🌻🌷

Thank you so much 💕💜 I'm happy to hear that. Lilia is always in the brain, so its wonderful to hear people enjoy these fics that I write.☺️🌺

That being said, you're the third person who has somehow ended up in my brain. Because this is a thought I have been thinking of for awhile now but haven’t put to paper, just stuck in head and day dreamed about. 🥰

…Careful, you might get stuck under all the diasomnia fic and thoughts 😂 jkjkjk

Who would know how to push your buttons better than...yourself?? Current Lilia is going to do exactly that. General Lilia is going to be shocked about you initially, but I think he would be more shocked about himself.

What had happened? Did Meleanor’s thunder knock a few screws or something?? Why is he like this?

He doesn't know when he will get back to his time but he will...try and get used to his current situation. It will take him a while to warm up to you.

But don't worry, he's the same way with Silver and Sebek. Even with Malleus there's a familiarity but also a hesitance...as if this was all a dream.

Once he gets used to you though, you can tell he has a crush. He's like a cat; he wants affection but doesn't know how to ask for it. The way you treat him has him nervous and he can't help but relax. But these feelings are so new to him and you're a human, he doesn't know how to treat you.

Current Lilia is laughing his head off on the side because he knows exactly what his past self is thinking and he's having fun teasing him!

Current Lilia is going to kiss and hug YN knowing full well that is exactly what his past self wants to do. Smirk at him as his past self glares. Oh? You wish you could be this affectionate with YN. Sorry General, you're 400 years too early Kufufu~

Ah~ but Lilia shouldn't let his guard down. After all, this is himself after all. General Lilia is nothing if not stubborn and will take up the challenge.

The General one day grabs your hand before kissing it in thanks for your kindness. Another time, he might even have the courage to kiss your cheek.

Somehow you end up in the middle of these two's...competition, but I doubt you mind dear reader. 🥰

#answered #Anonie ask #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia vanrouge x reader #Hana queues

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lokisgoodgirl · 10 months

Text

Asgard's Greatest Lover [Brodinsons]

Part of the Brother Collection A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: An offhand comment leads to a salty trip down memory lane. (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: Squabbling. D*ck measuring contests to fluff. Implied smut references.

“Loki, she’s looking over-” Despite best efforts to ignore it, the meaty elbow jostling the god’s ribs made him wince. “Loki, look, in the stand yonder. She’s looking, Loki- look” Thor boomed excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Will you desist?” Loki spat, hissing under his breath.

He could feel blood warming his cheeks, the volume of Thor's attempt at subtlety making him wish a portal would swallow him whole. He shouldn't have come. He didn't even like tennis. And yet, as always, here he was. With his public embarrassment of a brother. Loki grimaced as Thor began to point.

“But look hence...she noticed you! Perhaps she wishes to bid us good day.” He began to raise his arm, the start of a floppy wave which would likely be seen from space. “Wave, Loki- look, brother, see-!” Loki’s hand shot out, forcing the over-excited gesture down. “She’s wondering if you have utterly lost control of your faculties, brother;” Loki snarled, trying his best to look menacing. “As am I.”

Thor chortled, straightening a muscle vest which was three sizes too small. “Oh, Loki. You never have been very good at this sort of thing,” he sighed, letting his enthused gaze roam up and down the pristine grass court as Stark Industries friends and family took their seats. “It truly is a boon that you have one such as I to guide you in this romantic endeavour.” Loki raised his brows. He knew he shouldn’t take the bait. Especially in public. Especially today. But it was just too tempting.

“Whatever could you mean, brother?” he crooned, giving his most stoic side-eye with a tilt of his chin. He felt Thor bristle, telltale nervous fingering of blonde strands behind his ear letting Loki know the warning pitch of his voice had hit as intended.

“Well, Loki, it’s no secret that your love life has been fraught with unfortunate malaise where seduction is concerned,” “Unfortunate?” Loki said coldly, “I wouldn’t call a reputation as Asgard’s greatest lover unfortunate.”

Thor spluttered, shaking his head with sanctimonious laughter. “Ah, my little brother. I do admire the unshakeable esteem with which you hold your delusions.”

The dark brother’s grip tightened on the bleacher bench. “And I suppose you believe that title belongs to you, does it?” he sneered through gritted teeth. Poison flecked the words, dripping from his tongue like venom from a fang. Thor’s eyes narrowed. “I have the relic which proves it,” he shrugged.

“The one our mother gave you in solace when Jane left?” Loki snarled, “Pathetic. I doubt she even knew what it truly meant, just echoed your boorish claims thinking it was based in chivalry,” he paused. “At least, I hope that was her intent.” They stared at each other in pregnant silence.

“It matters not that mother gifted me said ceramic receptacle,” Thor said through gritted teeth. “What matters is, that my legend reaches far beyond the bifrost to bedchambers across nine realms, brother.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Whereas yours is rather more contained to the palace servant quarters.” “That was one instance,” Loki spat, “and she was the most comely chambermaid we’d ever had.” “I’m sure,” Thor huffed, rolling his eyes. He brought one fist in front of Loki’s face, flexing an ostentatious bulge of bicep. “I was too busy giving the princess of Nilfheim a shudder of my very special thunder to notice.” He smirked, delivering a slow wink to punctuate his prowess. “She was never the same afterwards, you know.” Loki stared open mouthed, before he burst into raucous laughter.

From across the court, Steve immediately stood with a snap; hands on his hips with the most uptight death glare Loki had ever seen. “This is tennis,” Steve squawked. “For gosh’s sakes, have some respect.”

Through tears of mirth, Loki saw you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. She recognises that Rogers is ridiculous, he thought. Good. That’s good.

Regaining his composure, Loki straightened. He smoothed his hair behind his ears, picking up the gauntlet his brother had carelessly cast down.

“Never the same. Quite.” he mused thoughtfully, collecting himself. “I can believe that your relentless dry-thrusting, lack of imagination and moans which sound suspiciously like the name of your talisman would scar her for life, yes.” “Leave Mjölnir out of this,” Thor snapped. Loki smirked, eyes wandering casually to where you sat. “The rumours are true then. Interesting.” he murmured slyly. Thor crossed and re-crossed his legs, the bleacher creaking beneath his weight. “She was perfectly satisfied,” the blonde grumbled, shifting his feet. Loki snorted. “Brother, you could not satisfy a woman if the key to unlocking her pleasure was written in parchment and propped upon her belly.” Thor stared, blankly. “Ah, yes – I forgot. A woman’s pleasure is not your forte is it,” Loki sneered, casting a quick glance towards his brother’s reddening face. “From what I heard, your attempts have been tragic at worst and laughable at best-” “Loki,” Thor warned, glancing anxiously at the people filling the seats behind them. But Loki continued, un-phased.

“Did you truly think you were to rub it with your chin?” He let out a harsh ooo, before sucking the air between his teeth.

“Those unfortunate women,” he drawled with feigned solemnity. “They didn’t want to hurt your feelings. ‘Asgard’s greatest lover’...please.” Thor tried to speak then thought better of it. Loki felt the glee begin to rise in his chest as he tasted victory in the air. “I felt moved for her when she hobbled from your chambers, poor thing. What did she cite for her impromptu departure, I wonder? Headache, was it?” He looked at his brother. The glazed look of bamboozled betrayal in his eyes told Loki that he was in fact, correct.

“Thankfully, I had just run a rather luxurious bath for myself which the lady found most soothing to aid her discomfort,” Loki purred, throwing his scarlet-faced sibling a knowing glance. “She was very grateful for my healing hands. And other anatomical attentions.”

Thor stared with slack-jawed disbelief.

The dark-haired god flicked his keen gaze towards you again. He let his eyes track up the skin of your bare calf, glinting in the afternoon sun. Supple, he pondered; thanking the Norns for the light breeze which rustled your skirt. On cue, you sipped from a large water bottle. Loki smirked.

“I was not aware that I was now a figure of such...ridicule. How times have changed.” Loki frowned as his moment of voyeurism was disturbed by Thor’s quiet mewl. With a sigh of resignation he swivelled, their knees touching. He reached for his brother’s hand, lowering his chin with sincerity in his eyes.

“Brother, that is not so” Loki said softly, “you have always been a figure of ridicule.”

Thor let out a shaky laugh, nodding. “I can always count on you to cheer me, brother” he said, patting Loki’s hand. Loki nodded once in acknowledgement. “Perhaps the next time you think yourself above me in the art of seduction, you will remember this conversation.”

“One can hope,” Thor chirped.

Loki rolled his eyes, retracting his hand. Polite clapping erupted as the first of the day’s players walked onto the court, waving at the crowds. He could feel Rogers suspicious stare burning into him from the other side of the grass, but he paid it no mind. “You truly think the odds are in my favour, brother?” Loki murmured thoughtfully, nodding subtly in your direction.

The two of them craned to catch a glimpse, the figure of his affections now half-obscured by a sea of lesser bodies. Your demure facial expression gave nothing away, but a pat on the shoulder from Natasha soon made you break into a dazzling smile. How she is not a goddess, I shall never know, Loki pondered; feeling his heart melt into his stomach and transform to a sea of butterflies. The redhead nudged her chin upwards, urging you to look up where the two gods stood. Staring. “Gods,” Loki hissed regretfully, continuing to clap like a fool. There was nothing else to be done. The boorishness of his brother had once again drawn the wrong kind of attention. But try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Perhaps she has some magic of her own, he mused.

Thor’s elbow jostled against his ribs, “I told you, Loki” he chortled, “god of chaos or not, I would say that the odds are most definitely in your favour where your lady is concerned.” “Truly?” Loki breathed, his heart beating faster as you gave him a small, bashful wave. “Truly,” Thor said, giving his brother’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Tags (if you'd rather stick with smutty stuff please let me know!) @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @goddessofwonderland @muddyorbsblr @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover

#loki fluff #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki and thor #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki gif #loki marvel #loki fanfic #jotun #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x female reader

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kuni-is-daddy · 1 year

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Thinking about Scara making us rub his cock with our pussy until we both cum

DOM! BOSS SCARAMOUCHE X FEMALE BODYGUARD READER.

100 followers special AHH OMFG TY.

PURE FILTH.

Juicy stuff: Grinding,Recording, at a desk :<, Yandere themes

Featuring: CHILDE, he's your bestie in the start :) had so much fun writing Childe in this KKLMK I LOVE HIM❤️❤️😩

1.2K WORDS.

amazing art credits! Scara masterlist Part 1 of Boss scara.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Stillness, Silence. The complete opposite of thunder. And that was his mother, The raiden shogun. God of thunder. Rumors spread around the elaborate 'Gakaden' company that once again her excellency has cancelled another meeting with her son. Its been 200 years since he's last seen her, heard her voice. Scaramouche was only able to rejoice in the sweet sent she left from each letter that was sent in her fluid handwriting.

"Y/n Y/n!" Childe said while tapping your shoulder. "Ah! Childe!! you scared me. Dont sneak up on me like that!" you nudged his shoulder in return. "Hah hah. sorry comrade~ anyway. Did you hear about scara?" you closed the book, bookmarking where you left off. "Yeah our Excellency is quite the busy woman. At least now i can catch up on my book" you smiled. "Why'd you ask? Is everything okay?" You gave a concerned look and the ginger then laughed at you. "Well the thing is.....IM GOING BACK HOME!!!" he took out a picture of teucer and the rest of his siblings. They we're wearing christmas sweaters while holding a 'welcome home' sign. "oh shit really!? your going back to snezhnaya? Thats great childe! how long are you going to be gone?" "hmm probably a month or two. Scara said we needed a break." Childe said "We? what do you mean by we?" You looked at him suprised. "Soo...You dont know gurly?" You gave a straight face. "No- I dont know GUrLy" "Scara is giving us a month off from work. He said something about wanting time to himself and-- I dont know the rest. To be honest, all i know is that we come back next month on the 30th." You scanned the room to see your fellow co-workers organizing their desks and holding boxes in their hands. "Seriously!? Thats great! That means i can go back home and-" Suddenly. The intercom rang with a short beep.

"If Y/N L/N Is still present in the building, Please report to Lord Scaramouche's Office Immediately!"

You tilted your head at the request. "Oooo did you get in trouble y/n??" "No? Or at least.. I hope not." You got up and placed your book back on your desk. Sighing at the sudden realization you we're gonna be by yourself without your 'best friend' for another month. "hey hey.. Cheer up okay? Its only a month and besides. WE CAN ALWAYS TEXT!!" childe waved his phone in your face, your sad expression then turning into a happy one. "HEY THERE GURLY-" "YOU LOOK WELL" "CARE TO EXCHANGE.." "NOTES?" The both of you giggled and then hugged eachother one final time. "Im gonna miss you so much ajax~" "of course, The one time you say my name its when im leaving-."

The intercom rang again. "Y/N... L/N.... REPORT TO LORD SCARAMOUCHE'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY." now with a more nervous tone then ever. "God. Wonder whats going on over there they need me so bad." "Well..Ill be seeing you Comrade. Take care for me okay?" He gave you a kiss on the forehead, ending it off with you two doing your signature handshake as he walked out of the company.

While climbing the many floors you eventually made it to the 13th floor. Your master's office. You slowed down your stroll in the long cold dark hallway at the sound of pleads and yells. "P-PLEASE LORD SCARAMOUCHE.. I DONT KNOW WHERE SHE IS. I ASKED THROUGH THE WHOLE BUILDING TWICE, HAVE MERCY-" It sounded like the woman on the intercom. "Twice? I said bring her to my fucking office. Not call her, Not ASK around for her. Bring her. But you cant even do your goddam job." you put your hand against the doorknob, conflicting weather you should intervene or not. "Your nothing. Do you know that? Nobody special. I dont care about your family, Your kids, Or your life. Under me, Your just someone i hired for my mothers sake. Just a worker. Replaceable like the rest of the humans in here." You turned the doorknob, hoping to intervene in what sounded like the potential murder of your co-worker. She was being held by her throat, hovering over the balcony while scara held his signature katana in his other hand. "KUNI- STOP!" he turned his head immediately at the use of that name. The woman fell, gasping for air while recklessly running for her life out of the building.

"Hm. So you are here, Close the door." he dropped his blade in its stand and walked towards you. You closed the door, making sure it was locked and immediately turned your head. "Kuni? What the hell was that? Why did you try to KILL that woman??" He rubbed his hand along your shoulder. "Does it realllyyy matter baby? I can just hire a new one you know." he scoffed. "Kuni. Humans arent replaceable. You cant just KILL someone like that." "Mhm..Your right. Cant replace you and that sexy body of yours~" He grew closer to you, Placing your hand against his tie. "W-well..You wont have to worry about me. Or Ajax leaving..Anyway..Why did you call me in here- Master." He pulled away at your change in tone. If theirs one thing that drove kuni crazy about you, is how persistent you we're with work. Still managing to stay perfessional. He sat back behind his desk, Clicking his pen with a laid back expression. "Not in a good mood today pet, Was hoping you could change that f' me~" The balcony door was still open a bit behind him, the warm summer air breezed through the room. Making you tug at your own suit with how hot it started to feel, How intimidating he looked from across the room as you stood at the door. "O-okay..Where do you want me to go master? Do you want to go out to eat? I just have to get my case and-" he sighed and began unzipping his pants.

"Come here and ill show you~" You we're nervous at how intimate he sounded but reluctantly walked towards him. He looked you up and down, noticing how similar your outfit was to his. How your hips curved around the belt. "Want you to sit..Right here..." He rubbed his hands against his thighs, Motioning for you to sit. "B-but we shouldnt do it here- theirs people still working kuni-" He sucked his teeth at your remark. "You think i fucking care Pet? dont want to make master more mad do you?" "N..no..I dont." You closed the blinds to the balcony, remembering how you almost witnessed another womans murder infront of your eyes.. over you. You faced scara and blushed. Turning your head away while stripping each piece of clothing off of you until you wore nothing but lacey black lingerie. "God..You look so hot in those.." he groaned as you hovered over his cock. positioning your pussy right against it, "Grind on daddys cock. Fuck yes~" He threw his head back as your hands held onto the chair for stability.

"A-am i doing good for you master...?" he pressed his hands against your ass, slapping them as they made contact "AH~" "Hell yeah.. Your doing so good' want you wet for me." He shifted his hands towards your underwear, slowly making them shift down so he could see your clit. "K-kuni! what are you doing.." "Ugh~ turn your head back up- Wanna feel your clit rubbing against me" He pulled your underwear down, Repositioning you so your clit rubbed against his big length, Teasing you as your hole ached for him to be inside of you. "Master~ Your so big..hah..." "Yeah you like that pet? Like how good it feels against you?" Wet stains started to emerge on his pants as you grinded faster against him, Chasing the burning feeling he gave you. "K-kuni~ Feels so' good~ Please..fuck me.." you shifted your grip away from the chair, now tightly holding onto him instead. "Mmm dont think thats good enough love, Beg for it." Begging. Kuni always made you beg and scream for him, He loved hearing how desperate you we're for him to fill you up. To claim you as his. Watching as you cried in frustration when he'd pull out just when your about to cum. "K-KUNI~ PLEASE M' SO CLOSE" "Shit~ keep moaning like that, cum for daddy, cum for me. and ill fuck you. Fuck~ hah...bounce those tits for me. You look so fucking good~" he slowly pulled his phone out, Recording how your tongue stuck out for him and your tits bounced. How you looked like a dog in heat. "Fuck..Thats it y/n Dont stop, dont fucking stop." "AH~ K-KUNI M' GONNA CUM~ KUNI!!!!!!!!"

Your juices squirted all over kuni's pants as he came at the same time as you. You looked up to notice him recording you and covered your face in embarassment. "Mmm... is my little slut embarassed? god look at the fucking mess you made." He let his phone fall down on the floor. Roughly grabbing you and placing you against the desk. "K-Kuni! Dont be so- MMM~" he tied his tie around your mouth. Throwing his clothes onto the floor and picking up his phone once again. "Shit...Cant get enough of you y/n~ love how this pussy is all mine~ are you mine pet?" you nodded your head with no hesitation.

"Fuck yes. Im gonna break you."

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traumxrei-archive · 1 year

Text

【 (waking up) next to you 】

prompt #4: They slept in the same bed for reasons but now he was waking up and there’s something about their bleary eyes and mussed hair (ft. deuce spade, silver, azul ashengrotto)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.1k

a/n: i'm back with more short drabbles !! i had a grand time having trouble keeping these short— like could you tell i wanted to write more for most of these jsfjdfk (also the azul favoritism bc i like teasing him too much)

Deuce Spade

( set during the events of book 5 )

Deuce Spade was fucked. He had woken up in a bed that isn't his. Normally that would be fine, since he probably just mistook one of roommate's beds for his own. But this...was very much not fine.

He had stumbled into "his" room last night after an exhaustive rehearsal. The closer they got to the SDC performance, the harder the training was. And he had collapsed into "his" bed. Thinking about it now, he was sure he heard a startled noise somewhere. But he barely had time to think before sleep claimed him.

"Shit," Deuce muttered, raking a hand down his face because he wasn't in "his" bed.

He was in your bed.

The evidence was clear as day, with the way your warmth was against his back, arms wrapped around his middle. At first he really thought he was dreaming, but then he felt your breath tickling his nape.

He probably would've had more of a crisis if you hadn't suddenly stirred. He held his breath as you seemed to wake, yawning somewhere near his ear.

"Deuce?" Your raspy morning voice made him shiver. "You awake?"

"Y-yeah," Deuce squeaked. (He didn't even know his voice could go that high.) You tugged at his shoulder and he could now see your sleep lined face. You looked...cute when you were sleepy.

"It's still early," You mumbled, using his shoulder as a cushion. "Let's sleep more."

"O-okay," He used his other hand to pat at your head and soon, your breathing had evened out. He pressed a hand against his chest, right over where his heart was thundering.

Well...Deuce Spade was definitely fucked.

Silver

Silver wasn't a stranger to falling asleep. Really, he did it all the time. But this had to be one of the first times that someone had fallen asleep with him.

He blinked his eyes open, the sleepy haze promptly disappearing as he stretched. Only there was an unfamiliar weight on his shoulder. And when he looked down....

Oh. It was you. Lying on his shoulder. Fast asleep.

Silver rubbed at his eyes. Clearly, he was dreaming. That was the only explanation as to why you were so peacefully cuddled up to his shoulder, the sunlight shrouding your figure in morning glow. This was a dream, right? Or else why would he be so near to...

"An angel," He murmured under his breath. He immediately stiffened as he watched you shift, your eyes slowly fluttering open. Ah, he had woken you up with his voice.

"Sil...ver...?" You rubbed at your eyes, just as he did seconds before.

"My apologies," He said, carefully avoiding your eyes. "Your nap was disturbed because of me."

Your hand turned him to face you, "I slept well thanks to your protection, Sir Silver." And Silver felt his ears turn hot, no doubt flushing under your stare.

"You..." Silver couldn't finish his sentence, instead hiding his face above your head and praying that you couldn't see how easily your words affected him. You really did know what to do to make a knight lose his composure.

Azul Ashengrotto

( set during the events of book 4 )

Azul Ashengrotto never thought a day would come where he would have to share a small rickety bed with anyone. But here he was, stuck in the Scarabia dorms, staring in disbelief at the ceiling and then to you, who was sleeping peacefully by his side.

He recounted the events of last night sourly, glancing over at the tweels and Grim, who were sharing a king-sized bed after winning a game of rock-paper-scissors. Azul mentally cursed the Scarabia students for not providing a big enough bed. Otherwise, he would've been able to avoid—

You shifted, your hold on his waist tightening as you sighed in content.

Azul cradled his face in his hands. This was impossible. He was never going to regain his status or composure in time for when you woke up. And worse than that, his heart was currently beating out of his chest.

And why was that? It was because—

"Azul-senpai." He stiffened. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, he didn't have to answer to the soft call of your voice. But no, you moved once more, "Azul." This time your voice was so close to his ear that he had no choice but to flinch.

"A-Ah, Prefect," Azul's voice came out wobbly. "Have you finally awakened? I'm glad that you woke up, but—"

There was a hand tugging at his wrist, and his eyes finally met yours. Your appearance was definitely one of someone who was just asleep. He assumed that his was the same, so...why did he find the sleepy droop of your eyes adorable?

His heart leapt in his throat when you leaned in, "Good morning, Azul-senpai. You're up way too early."

"F-Force of habit," He bit his lip when his voice wavered. "Do we have to be so close?"

"Why?" You smiled at him, and your fingers intertwined with his own. "You like it, don't you?" He liked it? He...couldn't deny that. But he had to deny that, he couldn't just outwardly—

"Your thoughts are so noisy, I can see it written all over your face," You yawned again before flopping back onto the bed. "Let's just sleep a bit more." Azul made no move to comment as you made yourself comfortable, and he tried not to tremble when your arms wrapped around him once more.

"For the record," Azul mumbled. "I-I'm doing this because we lost rock-paper-scissors. Not because of any ulterior motives."

"Uhuh," You said, very obviously unconvinced. "For the record, I'm cuddling with you without any ulterior motives either." Sevens, what was Azul going to do with you? There was such blatant sarcasm in your tone, yet he couldn't help but melt into your embrace.

But he did have to ask himself...did his ulterior motives match up to yours? And if so, did that mean that he could...do this with you again? Azul buried his head into your shoulder. No, he shouldn't be thinking about that or getting greedy. He should just...forget this and go to sleep. That's right, he should just go to sleep.

As if Azul was going to be able to go to sleep in this type of situation. (Azul ended up staying awake the whole time while you slept. And when the Scarabia students came to whisk everyone away for training, Kalim had commented on the bags under his eyes. You had shot him a cheeky smile after that.)

thank you so much for reading these drabblessss !!! if you'd like to see more drabbles or ficlets from the 600 followers event, check it out here ! and if you'd like to check out more writing, here's my masterlist >:DD

#/trau writes #deuce spade #twst silver #azul ashengrotto #deuce spade x reader #silver x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #hella late #but WOOO #sleeping together >>>>

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queerpumpkinnn · 10 months

Text

What’s Cookin’ Good Lookin’?

1.2k words

Summary: A sugary-sweet little baking scenario with your husband.

Pairing: husband!mechanic!Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: eating, suggestive comments/playful allusions to sex, let me know if I missed anything!

"My goodness, what is that delectable aroma? Do I dream?"

You rolled your eyes at the thundering, inquisitive voice that sounded shortly after the door to your home opened. The clunk of boots was heavy, but then turned into lighter thumps somewhere at the doorway.

"No, my good sir, you are in waking." You called from the kitchen.

"A true wonder indeed! The only question now would be where is the love of my life?"

You couldn't wipe the grin off your face if you tried. Eddie's unruly head of hair popped from around the corner into the kitchen, big brown eyes bright with glee. "Ah, love of my life! There you are!"

Eddie swept you up in a giant hug, nearly lifting you up off the ground. Your back was facing him so you couldn't hug him back, so you hung onto his forearms instead.

"Eddie! Eddie I'm dropping frosting on the ground!" You gasped between laughs, yelping when the chocolate dripping from the whisk in your hand spattered on your toes.

Eddie put you down after a long while, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a heavy hand atop your head. Then another to your nose, which wrinkled. Then to your lips, sweet as ever.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"I love you." Eddie giggled, stepping away and stripping his coat off.

"Really? That's crazy." You chuckled, reaching for a paper towel. "You're gonna lose it when I tell you I love you too."

Eddie put a hand to his forehead, pretending to faint. You erupted in laughter, wetting the paper towel to clean off your chocolate-covered foot.

"So how was work?" You asked Eddie as he washed his hands.

"It was alright. Someone brought in a- hey!"

Eddie whipped around, hair twirling with the motion. You snickered, the untwisting rag in your hand giving him an answer as to why he felt a snap on his rear end just seconds ago.

"You little shit," Eddie reached for another rag on the opposite counter, swinging the rag between his hands to get it snap-ready, "come here!"

You yelped, nearly jumping ten feet in the air when Eddie's towel smacked you square on the right butt cheek.

"Parlay! Parlay!"

"You can't use parlay, you're not a pirate! And I'm the captain of this ship anyways," Eddie laughed incredulously, winding up again.

"Fine, whatever the word is! I surrender!"

Eddie reached out for you anyways, swinging the towel so that it closed you in between Eddie's arms, tugging you closer by the back.

"Who wins?" Eddie asked, cocking his head to one side.

"You," you rolled your eyes, avoiding eye contact on purpose.

"Who? Who does what, sweetie?" Eddie gets his face closer to you.

"You win, Eddie." You roll your eyes again.

"Keep rolling your eyes, honey, they'll roll right out of your head." Eddie remarked, kissing you on the cheek before retreating to your room to get changed.

You shook your head as he left, returning to your work.

When Eddie returned, having showered, he was much quieter. Towel around his neck to keep his hair from dripping onto his T-shirt, he sat down on the barstool just outside the kitchen, watching you bake while he dried his mane.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth and sweetness of the cake's aroma lulling both of you into calmness.

Eddie heaved a long and dramatic sigh, a very doglike despair- his hair didn't help negate the appearance. His eyes pouted up at you from the counter. His chin jutted out a bit from being propped up on his folded arms.

"What are you huffing and puffing about?" You laughed, looking up from your mixing bowl.

"You're so far away." Eddie reaches a hand out for you, to which you snickered, stepping closer so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder, chuckling proudly.

"Lemme get a taste of that," Eddie tapped the side of the bowl once the batter looked adequately mixed. When you held the whisk out, he pushed it back into the bowl.

"Wha- oh. I see. Clever." You let him tug your hand, guiding a finger into the batter only for him to clean it off your finger.

You rolled your eyes, but you weren't going to lie and say you didn't wish you'd snapped a photo.

He let go of your finger with an exaggerated pop and a wicked grin, eyeing you for a response.

"You know I have to finish these, Eddie, I've put in too much work to get distracted now."

"Distracted? Whatever do you mean?" Eddie batted his eyes at you.

"You know exactly what I mean Mr. Munson."

"I'm sure I don't, Mrs. Munson." Eddie took your hand, only this time, he kissed the ring adorning your finger. The action was done with so much love it made your heart melt, but the mood was soon lightened when he began placing dramatic kisses up your arm.

"Eddie!" You laughed, smacking his arm. "I have to finish this!"

"Do you though?" Eddie made a face like he wasn't convinced.

"Yes, I really do."

"I'm sure- hey, get back here-" Eddie made sure to give you one last kiss on the hand before you returned to your station on the counter. "I'm sure Nancy will forgive you."

"She would, but I don't think she'd appreciate a shortage of cake because we decided to have sex."

"Sex? Who said anything about sex? I sure didn't." Eddie clutched his hand to his chest. "Get your head out of the gutter for five seconds, Jesus."

"Ha ha." You replied deadpan, but you smiled anyways.

"Why do we need four cakes anyways?" Eddie asked, reaching for the milk you'd set out and unscrewing the cap.

"Because we've got her immediate family, Robin, Steve, and an army of hungry kids to feed." You sighed.

"And none of them can bake?" Eddie frowned.

"They can. Everyone's got different jobs, and I just figured baking would be the most fun." You shrugged.

Eddie took a swig of milk, then set it down on the counter. "That's also because you're the best."

"That's debatable." You snorted.

"Nope. You are officially the best cook ever. I have decided." Eddie says with a false solemnness, like he was imitating a king passing a decree.

"Technically it's baker," you murmured.

"Sorry what was that sweetheart?" Eddie put a hand up to his ear animatedly.

"It's actually a baker, Eddie." You sighed as you closed the oven, the final layers of the cake series now baking.

"Ah, you're ruining the joke! Just accept the compliment, goddamnit." Eddie faked exasperation, laughing at his own humor.

"Fine, fine, thank you Munson." You set the timer, the beeps barely audible over your very loud husband.

"You're quite welcome, Munson." Eddie wrapped his hands around your waist again, his chest pressed against your back soothing your mind instantaneously. You swayed a while, thoughts slowly fading until the only thought in your brain was that you felt so at home.

Until Eddie happened.

"I think we can make thirty minutes no problem."

"Eddie!"

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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lunacyxxx · 5 months

Text

Differences Aside

MDNI Ghost and Konig are your plugs, but what you didn't know was that they were each other's opps. So, one day you decided to buy from both of them. It was like one of them always had something the other didn't.

You were already kind of high when you were talking to them and thus, here's the tale of how you ended up between two sworn enemies.

Contains: drug use, dominant masked men and fingering nd stuff

not proofread, idk how many words this is. I hope yall enjoy it.))

The sun was going down and you just finished all your tasks for the day. It was time to reward yourself with your normal routine of getting high, you entered your home and smiled excitedly. You quickly make haste to your bedroom getting undressed and going into your personal bathroom, you turn on your shower and begin your nightly routine.

You came out in a towel and went to your closet putting on a long t-shirt and spandex shorts. Music sounded through your room when you connected your phone to your speaker and sat at your desk. The bottom drawer to your left had all your goodies in it, you noticed you were on your last nug.

Coincidentally, you got a text from your plug Ghost.

Ghost: new pack came in, lmk what you want and how much luv.

One thing about Ghost, despite his intimidating appearance, he had a soft spot for you. Honestly when he first pulled up to your place, he wasn't expecting someone who looked like you to smoke. He was surprised when you gave him some extra cash for gas so since then, he's always made sure you got what you wanted and sometimes added in a little extra.

You smiled at his text and replied asking to see his menu, he sent it a couple minutes later and you looked over it. He wasn't lying when he said new because some of this stuff you've never heard of before. You pondered over your choices as you rolled up, "Hmm."

You: I'll take the (fave cereal) edible and a 3.5 of Alaskan Thunder Fuck please and thank you :)

Ghost: Okay darling, I'll be over there in about 2 hours. This would normally be $50 but for you its $30, see you soon

You like his message and light your joint taking in a steady inhale, moving over to your bed you open your window and pull up your laptop to watch youtube. About an hour later, you finished your joint and was watching YouTube until your phone lit up with another text.

Konig: I got new stuff for you to try ;)

Ah Konig, the tallest dude you've ever laid eyes on. How ya'll met was kind of funny, he had the wrong address and was parked outside your home when you went outside to get the mail. He got out of his car and came up to you and thought you were the customer who placed an order earlier that day.

You two talked and he realized he made a typo in the gps, but you still ended up buying something from him since Ghost was out of town for that week. Talk about good luck, right? So like Ghost, he sometimes adds an extra and gives you discounts.

Konig sent you his list and he had new shit too.

You: I'll take one of your carts, you can choose whichever one you wanna give me and a 3.5 of GSC please and thank you.

Konig: Of course, you know I got you. It's gonna be $30 for you."

You liked his message and leaned over to your nightstand grabbing your wallet and taking out the cash you needed.

The cool summer air brushed your skin when you stepped outside to wait for your plugs to pull up, the familiar rumble of Ghost's car and Konig's truck coming down the opposite sides of the street. Ghost parked on the curb and Konig pulled into your driveway.

They both got out, Ghost stood at 6 '4, wearing black sweats a black long sleeve and of course his skull balaclava. Konig hopped out his truck, standing at 6 '10 he wore his sniper hood, gray hoodie and black jeans.

The two men caught sight of each other, and they both pulled out their pistols ready to shoot, "Now wait a damn minute!” The both of them jumped at your sudden yell.

"First of all, this is what we're not gonna do. Especially in front of my house. Secondly, what the hell is y'all problem?"

"Tell me why the fuck he's here first!" they both said, the differences in their accents now very apparent and you felt a very slight ache down there. (iykyk)

"Uh because y'all are my plugs? I can't have two plugs, you both end up having different stuff that hits hard; especially when I mix the two together."

“We actually don’t get along at all," Konig said, eyeing you.

"Yeah, something like this isn't supposed to happen,” Ghost spat out while glaring at Konig

A look of realization crossed your face and you looked between the both of them, "How about you put your differences aside and let's all smoke. I don't really care for stuff like this unless someone I know, and love is involved and stuff. I mean, neither of you shot one another yet sooo."

The two men looked at you then at each other before lowering their weapons, both of them mumbling something under their breaths. You walked over to Konig and gave him the money; in turn he gave you a medium baggie which was new.

You then walked over to Ghost and paid him and he gave you a bag that was around the same size as Konig's. Neither of them would admit they liked pulling up to give you your weed, they often invited you inside their vehicles to chat and show you some of the other products they had.

"I forgot to ask, do either of you have more things to do, I don't wanna stop your bag or anything."

Ghost shook his head and Konig spoke up, "I always save the best for last. Why do you think you always get a little something extra meine liebe?"

Ghost rolled his eyes and scoffed, "I hate to agree with his ass but same here. I'm free for the rest of the night."

"Mkay, now that's settled we can go inside. I should have one of y'all roll, out here just pulling guns on each other and shit." You lead them into your home, the living room has a comfortable sectional with a matching ottoman. There was a mounted tv with your entertainment center underneath it, a bookshelf with books, crystals and all your favorite things.

"Make yourselves comfortable and no fighting, I do have a cast iron skillet and won't hesitate to pop someone with it." You ignore the chuckles coming from both men as they sit on opposite sides of the couch, not without mean mugging each other until you come back with your rolling tray, water and some snacks.

You scooch past Konig while saying excuse me before you sit in the space between them, and thus the smoke session commences.

After about 30 minutes, all three of you were slouched on the couch completely zooted watching Planet Earth. (A/N: idk about y'all but that's the best thing to watch when you're high asf, speaking from experience)

"That lizard has some fucking balls running through all those snakes," Konig commented. You and Ghost nodded, the both of you completely tapped into the show. Over the course of the session, you were sandwiched between them, their thick thighs pressing against your own.

Ghost looked over at you, his eyes red and half opened while they took in your appearance. His eyes flickered up only to catch Konig doing the same thing, Ghost felt a bit ballsy so he put his arm over your shoulder pulling you closer to him.

"Uh?"

Konig saw this and slipped an arm around your waist, also pulling your hips to him. "Hey, what's up with the both of you?"

You looked between the two of them and you could feel the tension building slightly, you honestly liked the idea of your two plugs showing you this much attention. Yet you hoped it wouldn't turn into some type of blood bath anytime soon, "If you guys wanted to cuddle, you could've just asked."

"Let's see who can make her cum the most," Ghost said. You could feel Konig readjust his grip to hold your hips and squeeze them slightly. "Well, I'm already where I need to be. I call going first, as long as meine liebe is okay with it. Ja?" The way the taller man stared you down through his hood had you shook, his red eyes portraying more than just being under the influence. You couldn't stop yourself from nodding.

"We need you to say it darling, if not then we can pretend this never happened."

Not wanting to lose this once in a lifetime opportunity, you gave them the answer they were looking for. "Yes, I'm fine with that."

You felt your shorts being pulled away and cool hands going under your shirt, Ghost moved with a sense of dominance and roughness while Konig too expressed his dominance but in a slightly possessive manner.

Ghost adjusted himself so one leg was on the couch and your back was pressed to his broad chest. Konig gripped your thighs and spread them open with a satisfied huff.

Konig admired your bare pussy before lifting his mask up and diving right in, his tongue lapping at your clit before tracing through all the creases and folds to get a better taste of you. Your moans and lewd slurps echoed through the living room. His tongue moving slowly, as if he wanted to map out each curve a dip of your core.

"Don't forget that I'm here," Ghost murmured. His hands were massaging your breasts and playing with your nipples under your shirt, the overload of the difference in the way they were handling you turns your mind to mush.

You could only imagine how they acted once they got you where they wanted, Ghost took a hold of your throat. His lips brushing past your ear as he bit it, he tilted your head back and looked down at you.

His lustful gaze causing your pussy to clench, Konig noticed the moment you two were having and pushed two fingers inside of your sopping pussy. He angled them up and began thrusting them, Ghost kept your focus on him while he eyed Konig.

The two of them having a heated stare down while you wiggled between them.

Your juices were soaking the Austrian's hands as he slowly worked them in and out of your slick heat, lewd wet noises mingled with your moans in the hazy living room. Konig pushes his fingers upwards trying to find that spongy spot that he knows will drive you crazy, Ghost watches him work his fingers inside of you. His own erection throbbing in his pants, Simon pinches and rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger ensuring that he was making you moan louder.

His hand is still around your throat keeping you in place.

Your breath hitches in your throat when Konig finally finds that spot, he hums and presses on your lower tummy. “There we go, take that shit y/n,” Konig growls before jerking his digits in and out of your pussy roughly. Simon held you close to him, cutting off your air supply slightly while he watches you come undone. His large hands move to grab your wrists to prevent you from pushing Konig away.

At this point you couldn't control your mewls and your thighs were quaking, broken moans leave your gaping mouth as you feel a strong coil in the pit of your tummy. You try to tell Konig to slow down but your words only come out as quivering babbles.

Your feet plant themselves on the couch as your hips buck under Konig’s hand, you throw your head back on Ghost’s shoulder crying out as that coil snaps and you gush all over Konig’s hand and face.

"Bedroom. Now,” the both of them were surely going to break you.

#ghost cod #konig x reader #konig cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader x konig #konig x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #konig

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house-of-kolchek · 2 years

Text

Ghosts Behind The Falls (18+)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

SUPRISE EVERYONE ITS A GHOST FIC

Everyone say thank you to @kawaiiwitch224 for getting me hooked onto this son of a bitch and inspiring FOUR THOUSAND WORDS of smut. I love you. Now back to your regularly unscheduled programming.

WARNINGS: This is literally just smut. There's like zero plot. Enjoy a very naked Ghost talking dirty to you in a cave.

Word Count: 4k

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

It was supposed to be an easy mission. A quick drug bust - taking out the leader of one of the heavy-hitting cartels. The plan was solid, with a clear entry and exit plan, and intel on each and every soul that would be in the building. It was simple and covert, easily attainable with two agents.

So, how you became the target, you’d never know.

It had all happened so fast - one second you were sweeping through a freshly cleared room, keeping your senses tuned for the target, the one from the pictures you’d spent hours studying.

And the next you were turning tail and fucking running.

“When did the entire fucking cartel decide to show at the door?!” You shrieked, skirting sideways to dodge a stray bullet in your path.

“Just fuckin’ run!” A deep voice called from behind you, followed by a spray of gunfire towards your attacker. Ghost’s hand wrapped around your bicep, guiding you to the door and kicking you off in a sprint.

You cursed, stumbling over a few steps before shooting towards the tree line. Ghost was hot on your heels, grunting curses of his own under his breath. The thundering shouts of the cartel echoed behind you, no doubt giving chase as you ran with your tail between your legs. You aimed for the trees, taking solace in their protection.

Until of course, the ground decided to drop off.

“Hang on hang on hang on!” You shrieked, digging your feet in and skidding to a stop. Your balance threw you off, and one leg was sent flying over the cliff edge, your arms flailing for any sort of purchase.

Just before your stomach could officially drop, Ghost’s strong hand found your forearm, tugging you away from the ledge and into his side. You gasped, stumbling for a moment as you found a death grip on his vest.

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning over to survey the water below. “We’re gonna have to jump.”

“What! No!” you yelped, tightening your grip on him. “I can’t!”

“Wait you- what?”

“I can’t jump from this height!”

“Sweetheart, you haven’t got much choice,” he hissed, glancing back towards the growing shouts and gunshots. You stiffened, creeping away from the edge.

“I’m scared of heights,” you all but whispered. Your fingers flexed, hovering over the pistol tucked in your belt. Ghost gave you an incredulous look, seemingly baffled that you would rather stand and fight an obviously losing battle. He was right of course - you stood no chance - but that rational part of your brain had long since left the premises.

The shouts grew louder, the outlines of your attackers growing into focus. A stray bullet struck the ground a few feet away, and for the first time in a long while, you jumped at the sound.

It was at that moment Ghost decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Ah for the love of- hold on,” he growled, holstering his gun. Your breath left you again as his arms found your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.

“Wait shit what are you- RILEY!” You shrieked, digging your nails into the sides of his vest as he leapt off the cliff edge. Your scream was muffled as he braced the back of your head, burying your face into his armoured chest. His other arm tightened around your waist as cold air swept past you.

And then, like a sharp jolt to your system, you hit the water. After a short moment, his arms loosened, his hand keeping hold on yours to guide you back to the surface.

You coughed, sucking in a large breath of air as you broke from the water. Blinking, you glanced up, towards the cliff you’d been standing on mere seconds ago.

“GHOST!” you hollered, muffled behind the large, gloved hand that slapped over your mouth.

“Scream at me later, yeah?” he hissed, kicking through the water until the two of you were nearly pressed against the rocks. His voice was low as he muttered next to your ear. “If they think we’re dead after that fall, let’s keep it that way.”

Your face grew warm, your breath leaving you from the combination of his arm falling to tighten around your waist, and the echoing shouts of others above.

“There.” He nodded towards a towering waterfall, a small corridor just peeking out from the side. “We can hold up there while I call for exfil.”

Finally releasing your waist, he held a finger towards the mouth of his mask, before dipping his head under the water and swimming towards the falls. With a heavy sigh, and a slight tingle between your legs, you followed suit, diving below the water as you swam towards the cover.

The waterfall was roaring, audible even below the surface of the water. As you broke for another breath, you startled at the spray. Blinking the drops from your eyes, you made brief contact with Ghost, paddling to meet him at the edge of the small corridor.

Heaving yourself back onto solid ground, you coughed, wiping the spray of water from your lips. Ghost wasn’t far behind you, flicking on his flashlight to survey the space. He hummed his approval, barely heard over the water as he stepped further into the expansive cave that stretched behind the falls.

It was dark, musty and cold. But it was safe, and that was all that mattered. Combing a hand through your dripping hair, you followed the Lieutenant into the cave, dropping to a seat on a rock farther back. Ghost remained on his feet, glancing around the space once more.

“Should do for now,” he hummed.

“Yeah. It’s good,” you commented with a shrug. “At least there’s no more cliffs for you to throw me over.”

“Hey. You weren’t gonna jump and-” he sucked in a breath, only to choke on some of the water that soaked through his mask.

“Jesus Chri- you’re gonna waterboard yourself!”

You were met with a sharp exhale, and a spray of water from the mask where his mouth would be.

“I’ll be fine,” he commented, his eyes darting sideways to ignore your pointed look. The two of you were silent for a moment, Ghost muffling a few lingering coughs behind his hand.

“and I was gonna jump. Eventually,” you hissed. His gaze found yours again, cutting straight through the wall you were struggling to keep up.

“Not before gettin’ shot.”

“Well that seems more like a me problem than a you problem.”

“Would you rather I’d left you to get filled with bullets?”

Your mouth fell open and closed a few times as you struggled to find a quick response. You heard the barely-there rumble of a chuckle from the man, as he stepped back towards the cave entrance.

“S’what I thought,” he quipped. He was right, and you both knew it. His actions had saved your life, as much as you hated to admit it. You heaved a long sigh, the thread holding up your pride finally snapping.

“Thank you,” you uttered, causing Ghost to stutter in his steps. His head turned to the side, flashing a short stripe of white from the skull shaped plate across his face. With a short clear of his throat, he nodded.

“Right. Gonna call for exfil.”

—

By the time he returned, not even ten minutes later, the cold had begun to seep through your skin. In the damp space, you were still dripping, your clothes beginning to feel like ice.

Of course, the breeze and constant spray from the waterfall didn’t help either.

“You alright there?” Ghost asked, unable to keep the humour hidden from his voice. You shivered, raising a brow in his direction.

“Peachy. What’s the plan?”

Ghost chuckled, low and husky. If you hadn’t been fucking freezing, you might have noticed the slight heat behind it.

“ETA for exfil’s forty five minutes. We’re staying put till then,” he muttered, stepping close enough that his armor brushed against your upper arm. You shuddered, instinctively leaning further into the warmth you craved.

“Great,” you hummed. “Forty five minutes to fucking freeze to death.” Ghost sighed, though there was no malice behind it. His gloved hand found your shoulder, prompting you to tilt your head to face him.

“Take off your clothes.”

“I’m sorry- What?” You blanched, your cheeks growing even more flushed.

“What, conserving body heat and all that,” he justified, reaching to unclip the buckles of his vest. You fell into silence, forcing all the inappropriate thoughts to flee from your mind. Though, as you found yourself mirroring his actions, you couldn’t find the will to tear your gaze away from his hands working at the layers of his clothing, and each flash of skin he exposed.

It was crazy. Like something out of a wet dream you may have had more than once. And it was happening. Like right in front of you happening.

Your pants fell in a pile, the last article of your clothing save for your undergarments. Dipping your head to hide your blush, you didn’t even have the time to appreciate him before his hands - his bare hands - found your hips, pulling you flush against his chest.

You nearly gasped at the feeling of his skin, instantly warming your own. It was… effective, in more ways than one, as your cheek pressed into his chest.

“Better?” He asked, and you could hear the smirk behind his mask. Unable to form the words, you nodded, acutely aware of the rumble in his chest as he chuckled.

It was a side you hadn’t seen from the Lieutenant before - so openly kind and almost soft. His hands rubbed your arms a few times before falling loosely across your lower back. Your chest flared with warmth as he sucked in a barely audible breath.

Each brush of his skin sent shocks racing up your spine, to the point where you almost felt too warm. You leaned back - just slightly - turning to meet his. Very. Bare. Chest.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Um- I mean,” you babbled, slowly slipping from his arms. It didn’t help of course, if only the full sight of him clad in nothing but a mask and boxers only fanned the flames in your core. Your face flushed as you choked on every word trying to escape your throat. “I mean just like-“

You sighed. Might as well be fuckin’ out with it.

“What fucking adonis carved you out?”

Ghost was silent for a long moment. It would have been comical, watching him flounder for words if you weren’t stuck in the exact same position. You couldn’t place it, the new, sudden shift in his demeanor, until he started taking long strides towards you.

“Wait what are you doing-” you were cut off as his arms found your waist again, pulling you even closer than before. Your hands flew to either side of his chest, and you nearly gasped at the half hard pressure against your hips.

“You really think that?” he hummed, letting one hand brush up and down your spine, hovering dangerously close to the clasp of your bra. With a complete lack of words on your tongue, you nodded, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his skin.

“Well then. I might have an idea on how we can keep… warm.” You nearly keened from the growl in his tone, his voice growing even huskier as his hands fell back to squeeze at your hips.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, surprised at how quickly you were falling apart. The man had barely touched you and you were on the verge of snapping. As if he’d heard your thoughts, Ghost chuckled, low and husky, clearly enjoying the way you stroked his ego.

Without another word, he had you walking backwards until your shoulders hit the damp stone wall. You yelped at the sharpness of the cold stone, curling your hips further into his and accidentally grinding against him. The clipped groan he let out had you seeing stars, your arousal only fueled by the deep baritone of his voice.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Doll,” he husked, brushing his fingers along the skin of your stomach. Your head fell back against the stones, your mouth falling open to let out hot breaths as his other hand slid down to grip the back of your thigh. Hoisting it over his hip, you gasped at the sudden rush of air over your clothed core. Through your panties, Ghost slid one finger in a stripe across your core, brushing with delicious friction against your clit.

And you whined.

“Ghost-”

“Simon,” he cut you off. Finding your eyes through the mask, you studied the intensity of his gaze, almost feeling shy under its heat.

“Simon,” you breathed, and he blinked, unable to suppress the slight shudder in his shoulders as you used his name. His real name.

“Now that’s better.”

His head fell against the stone, his chin brushing against your shoulder. With another swipe of his finger across your panties, he pulled another clipped whine from the back of your throat. Letting his finger drag, he moved to circle over your clit through the fabric, increasing the pressure and forcing the friction across your nerves to amplify. You dug into his shoulder, panting a short breath as shocks of pleasure traveled up your spine.

“Simon, that’s-” you shot out another exhale. “That’s so good.” At your praise, his pace quickened, and he added another finger to the mix. There was a pressure against the skin of your shoulder, and you barely processed the outline of his lips through the rough fabric of his mask, pressing kisses against your collarbone.

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, biting you through his mask. You took a sharp breath. “I know how to make it even better.”

Oh how did you end up here. Stuck in a cave with your wildly attractive colleague practically naked and grinding against your hip. Muttering the filthiest things in your ears. Hooking his thumb to slide his mask up to his nose.

Wait, what?

“Simon?”

You were met with his shining grin, and the beautiful sight of his fair skin, all the way up from his chin to the bottom of his nose. His lips looked absolutely delicious. Full and sporting the perfect shade of pink. As you squinted, you were just able to make out a scar that travelled to the corner of his lip.

And that was all you were able to catch before his lips were on yours.

His kiss was deep and passionate, chasing after your lips as if he’d been craving them for years. His hands were completely forgotten, moving to simply squeeze the sides of your hips. You kissed him back just as eager, sighing at the taste of his lips. In a daring move, you swept your tongue across his lower lip, squeaking as his tongue tangled with yours.

He was barely able to catch one breath before he was kissing you again, falling out of the spell enough to slide his hands up the sides of your waist to your ribcage. As his tongue met yours once again, he found the clasp of your bra, struggling with it for less than a second before the garment was sliding off your shoulders. He wasted no time in finding your breasts, his calloused palms catching against your nipples and drawing a high pitched moan from your throat.

Your lips broke from his in a messy groan as you arched into his chest. His eyes fluttered shut, his bottom lip pinching between his teeth at the feel of your skin. One hand drew to the back of your neck, his pinky finger curling under your jaw to tilt your head back. You shivered at the graze of his teeth against your jawline, drawing down the column of your throat, where he left a pink bite mark against your skin.

“Oh, you like that?” he growled, his gaze fluttering up to your face. Breathless, you only nodded, feeling his smile against your skin. “You like when I leave my mark on you, eh?” You nodded again, and his teeth clamped down, just below your collarbone.

Simon soothed the mark, massaging your skin with his tongue and his lips until a dark bruise formed. Your hands flew to the back of his neck, your hips jumping against his as he brought his kisses lower, his breath hovering right over your breasts. With a soft, pleased sigh, he brought his lips down to your nipple, teasing and tugging at the bud, drawing an endless supply of clipped moans from behind your gritted teeth.

You ground your core against him, tightening your leg around his waist as you chased that friction you desperately craved. Simon sucked in a sharp breath, his mouth breaking from your skin for a moment to regain composure. But his lips didn’t falter for long. With a wicked grin, he brought his mouth to your other nipple, brushing it with his teeth. His grip fell to your waist, tightening around your hips and jerking them hard against his barely-covered erection.

You cried out, digging your nails into the back of his neck as he met your hips with a sharp thrust. Dragging against your core, his fingers dug further into your skin as you whined. Your stomach felt tight, every ounce of you wanting to wriggle against his grip, chase after that delicious friction, but his hands held firm. That knot in your core wound up impossibly tight, your face growing even hotter as he bucked your hips into his again, and again, and again.

Until it finally snapped.

“Simon!” you keened, your mouth falling open with soundless moans as your orgasm washed over you. The accused continued to grind against you, riding you through each wave until your twitching stilled.

You sucked in a heavy breath, letting your hands fall loose, your fingers dancing gently down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders. His fingers flexed against your waist, eyes darting to meet yours again. His pupils had blown wide enough to blend in completely with his dark irises. And in the dark lighting of the cave, you could have sworn you saw a somewhat glossy reflection in them.

Without a word, Simon leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. His palm slid up your back, laying flat between your shoulder blades to press you further into his chest. His skin was still impossibly warm, slightly dampened with a mix of sweat and sprays of water from the falls.

You’re not sure when, or how it happened, but your kiss grew fervently heated again. His tongue pushed past your lips, tangling with yours in a messy show of dominance. Simon's hands slid from your back, his thumbs brushing across each of your sensitive nipples before he broke away from the kiss.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, yeah?” he growled, his hands finding your waist and spinning you around to face the stones behind you. “Hands on the wall.”

With a jolt, that familiar sense of arousal pooled in your lower stomach again. Already craving what you knew was coming next, you threw your palms flat against the stone, gasping at the coldness of it. Simon pressed his front against your back, and you shuddered at the realization that he’d stripped off his underwear.

His hands started at your throat. Brushing his fingers against your skin, they traveled down, stopping to give attention to each of your breasts, covering each mound and drawing a shaky breath from you. He skimmed over your abdomen, hooking his thumbs into the sides of your panties and dragging them down your legs. He took his time, inching his way across your skin with feather-light touches, and you just knew he was doing it to rile you up.

“Simon, please,” you begged, subtly pressing your hips back against him. You gasped at the hardness pressing back - it was big.

Not that you expected otherwise.

Simon chuckled behind you, all low and sexy. Your breath hitched in your throat as his tip grazed your entrance. You shifted your hips, almost trying to seat yourself on him, earning another dark chuckle.

“Ah ah- patience,” he teased. You huffed, desperate for his touch as his tip brushed across your entrance again, just barely dipping in. As your spine shuddered again, he found a solid grip on your waist, suddenly filling you with one deep thrust.

You cried, slapping a hand over your mouth as he hit that spot deep within. Your eyes glazed over, muffling another whimper as he gave another shallow thrust. And then suddenly, his breath fanned across your ear.

“Hands back on the wall,” he ordered. “I’m the only one that can hear you. And God, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you keep making.”

He solidified his words with another pointed thrust, and your hands slapped against the wall, a long, pitched whine ripping from your throat.

“That’s more like it.” You could hear the grin behind his words as he pulled out until just the tip remained, before slamming back into you.

His hand found your hip, tilting it in a way that arched your back until his hips could fall flush against yours. You cried at the new angle, the tip of him brushing against your inner walls in long strokes. You curled your fingers into the rocks, your nails screaming in protest as they scratched against the rough stone. Simon’s free hand caught yours, prying your nails from the wall and curling his fingers between yours.

He didn’t keep the same pace for long, switching between long, drawn out thrusts, and practically drilling into your core. You let moans and whimpers fly, crying out each time he hit the spot that had you seeing stars. Simon’s own composure started to falter, clipped noises escaping from the back of his throat as he leaned more weight across your back. You felt him everywhere - his hand wandering across your stomach, his chest pressed fully against your back, his pinpointed thrusts hitting your inner walls. Hell, even the smell of him filled your senses, spinning in your head until all that existed around you was him.

“Fuck-” he swore, his voice just barely cracking behind his gritted teeth. “I hope you’re getting close, doll.” His thrusts grew sloppier with each word, and his fingers tightened around yours.

“Yeah-” you breathed, unable to form any other words. “I’m just-” he tilted his hips slightly, hitting you at a perfect angle. “Fuck! Right there!” Your pitch grew higher with each thrust as he drilled into that spot over and over, your entire body tightening around him as you approached the edge of your orgasm.

Simon growled as he came, pinning you with one final thrust that had you barrelling over the edge with him. You let out a long, drawn out sigh as your muscles finally relaxed. Simon leaned into you, pressing the both of you against the stone wall as he fought to regain his own breath.

“Well. I’d say I’m sufficiently warmed up.” You said between heaving breaths. Simon laughed, moving to wrap his arms around you in a gentle embrace.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, pressed up against that damp stone wall. It was long enough that the crack of daylight past the waterfall began to fade, leaving the moon to light up the dim space. Eventually, reality called, and you gently slid away from him to collect your still-damp clothing.

“Hey - This is gonna become a more… regular thing, right?” You asked, unable to keep that shining sense of hope from the back of your voice. Because God, you wanted it to. All at once, you were addicted to the man, never able to get enough. Hell, you were already tempted to jump him again as you watched him slide his damp shirt back on - the fabric clinging perfectly to his body.

Simon crossed the three steps towards you, his hand cupping your cheek as he drew you into one more long, passionate kiss. His fingers played with the ends of your hair even as he broke away from your lips, reaching to finally slide his mask back over his chin. The radio crackled to life with orders for exfil as he pulled you against his side.

“Sweetheart, there’s no fucking way I’m letting that stay a one-time occurrence.”

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