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mhahaikyuus · 1 year

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Shelves

tags:; bakugo x reader, established relationship, fluff, reader being type A and so is Bakugo, domestic fluff, minor injury, small arguments, pro hero bakugo x reader, cuddling

a/n: posting this bc i haven’t posted in forever hope you enjoy, reblogs appreciated

You were sitting in your living room reading a book as your boyfriend came back from an early Saturday shift around mid day to your shared house.

While he was gone you had received a package at your doorstep. Heavy furniture packaged in a big cardboard box at your doorstep.

You had planned for your boyfriend to be home to help you move it two bookshelves for the living room.

However it started to rain and you didn’t want the package to get wet, and you were independent grown woman, you could move a box.

So you spent 30 minutes moving a box about the size of a fridge up a flight of stairs, through your doorway to the living room.

While you were moving it you definitely pulled something in your back. Now laying on your couch your lower back in pain.

Katsuki came home to you laying on the couch and a giant box in your living room. You knew he would cuss you out for hurting yourself when you could’ve called him to move it.

“I’m back y/n-“ He stopped looking at the box bigger than yourself standing in your living room, “The delivery guys put it in the living room.” He interrupted himself assuming wrong.

You hummed in response not wanting to say yes or no.

“Okay I’ll put it together tonight.” He said

Leaning down to kiss you. You met him halfway with a small wince and smiled in that kiss.

“I can do it later, I just want to lay down right now.” You said falling back on the couch.

“No I’m doing it.” He said. He hated how independent you are. Wanting you to rely on him but you never fully could always making excuses.

“Fine.” You sighed. Katsuki leaned down to give you a kiss again and reached around to drag your forward.

You gasped in pain as he held onto your lower back.

“What’s wrong.” He said pulling back quickly with a frown looking at your body. Thinking he had hurt you

“Nothing.” Trying to move his hand but Katsuki wasn’t budging. Vermillion eyes narrowing

“You’re lying.” He said and he pinched your back making you whimper.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay.” You said

“What did you do.” Katsuki asked, his hands on your hips holding you.

“I moved the box… myself.” You admitted and his eyes narrowed.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve called me. That box is bigger than you.” He yelled as you threw back your head at his scolding of you knowing it was because he loves you.

“You had patrol. And I can do it, I am fully capable of doing things by myself

“You could have called me. You know I would’ve come back to move the box.” He said with a frustrated look. “Why didn’t you call me, you never call me. I’m your boyfriend I’m supposed to do it. I’m supposed to open jars for you, move heavy objects, and fix things for you. Let me do it. Now you’re hurt.” He said

“It’s fine I’ll be okay just a couple of days and my back will be fine.” You lied to comfort him.

“Don’t lie to me, how bad does it hurt.” He said concerned

“An 8,”

“Jesus-“

“Calm down.”

“No next time you need something call me or I’m gonna lose it. I don’t care if you don’t feel like walking and you call me to carry you up the stairs. You call me.” Katsuki said. “What kind of boyfriend am I to have you throwing out your back to move something.”

“The kind that saves people for a living and loves me when I do stupid things like hurt my back.” You said with doe eyes you knew that made him melt. Bringing him in by the back of his neck for a kiss.

Pressing his forehead to yours and rubbing his face, his favorite action of yours. Never truly getting mad at you when you loved him.

“Did you call a doctor? You could’ve slipped a disc, or-“

You laughed at how anal he could be. “No I did not, I will be fine in a couple days.”

“How do you know that?” He asked

“I swear you are just as stressed as Izuku.” You said kissing him.

He grumbled rubbing your leg, “Don’t compare me to shitty Deku. I worry because I love you and you are a moron.”

“You’re best friends for a reason, and I am a moron that loves you and I’m going to ask for your help right now.”

Katuski ignored your first comment, “Is that so?”

“Yes because I need you to help me walk to the kitchen. I’m hungry and I’ve been stuck on this couch.”

Katsuki picked you up by your armpits and walked you to the kitchen with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“How was patrol?” You asked

“Great. I love fighting with a bank robber when my girlfriend is injuring herself because she won’t pick up the phone to call me.” He said with an attitude all you could do was roll your eyes.

“How long are you going to be mad at me.” You said tugging on his blonde hair. He grunted at your hands handling him.

Katsuki sat you gently on one of the chairs. Standing in between your legs, both arms caging you, and dropping his head.

“I’m not mad at you, im pissed that you won’t call me. Being a pro hero isn’t going to kill me you are.” He grumbled and you laughed.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked pulling away to cook for you.

“Whatever you want to cook.”

You sat in the kitchen as he cooked and you tried to help.

Trying to open a jar and your boyfriend gave you the dirtiest look.

“What did we just talk about.” He said wanting to snatch the jar out of your hand.

You held it out to him.

“Cut me some slack, please. I am used to being independent for as long as I’ve been alive.” You said

“We have been together for almost a year now. And I am here now for you. So relax please. I like taking care of you.” He said grabbing your hand and giving it a kiss. “We bought the house to be together and I can baby you.”

“You are such a sap.”

“The headline yesterday was “Dynamight’s Rage.” He replied his back turned to you cooking one of your favorite meals.

“Yes you’re so scary baby.” You sarcastically said

Both of you knowing that he had a temper and could terrify anyone. But as scary as Katsuki was he was far more scared of you when you got in your moods.

Katsuki finished cooking for you, placed you back on the couch, and made you sit there as he built the bookshelves.

He opened the box with a tool kit and instructions. You sat on the couch eating the food he made. The living room covered in styrofoam packaging and cardboard.

Even after a grueling shift, your boyfriend had cooked you a full dinner and was assembling shelves just for you.

You were type A and liked to be in control and do things yourself. Bakugo was also type A and trying to build it as you tried to control.

“No baby it’s screw A that’s screw H.” You said reading the instructions he threw.

He didn’t listen to anyone but you got half an ear.

“I know what I’m doing I don’t need the instructions.” Bakugo griped.

“I’m serious, please do it right. My books are my babies.” You complained.

“Woman you already injured yourself, can you let me do this.”

“If you did it right then I wouldn’t be complaining.” You shot back.

He let out a huff ignoring you continuing to build.

After the third time of him doing something you didn’t like you got frustrated.

Getting up off the couch, Katsuki heard you move not even turning.

“Get back on that couch before I strap you down.” He said not looking up. His red eyes focused on the wood planks.

You continued to move off the couch with a wince and Katuski turned around from the floor narrowing his eyes.

“Ass back on the couch. Now.”

“You’re not doing it right.” You whined halfway up.

He stood up his big body towering over you. Guiding back to the couch.

“You are a control freak. Sit down before I lock you in the bedroom or in the car to drive you to the hospital.” Katsuki threatened sitting you back down and throwing a heavy blanket on you to hold you down.

He was always so gentle with you even when he was ticked off.

After about an hour he saved the last bookshelf for tomorrow to cuddle you in bed.

“I told you I knew what I was doing.”

You hummed at his cockiness. He had given you some Advil and was gently massaging your back in your bed. You trapped in his big arms, your chests touching. His thick fingers gently pressing against your lower back.

“You like being my superman huh?” You said into his chest.

“Superman? Screw him I’m your Dynamight baby.”

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #mha imagine #mha imagines #mha scenarios #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #bakugo scenarios #mha #bakugo imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo fluff #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you

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thebearer · 8 months

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if you lie down, lie next to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: you and carmen are newly weds, moving into your forever home.

inspired by @carmybears fic assembly required which has been SO heavy on my mind lately mixed with lana del rey's "if you lie down, lie next to me" <3

contains: fluff. just fluff newly weds, alludes at smut, some language, but tooth rotting sweetness and fluff.

“Carmen, I’m not even kidding. Where the fuck did all of this stuff come from?” You groan, collapsing another cardboard box with a huff, shoving it into the pile with the others by the door. “Our apartment was, like, one-fifth the size of this one. The living room was like our whole apartment. How do we have this much shit?”

Carmen snorted lightly, grinning and unpacking the various pots and pans. New pots and pans- wedding gifts.Your wedding came with an influx of appliances and cookware, gadgets for the kitchen that Carmen bubbled with excitement about. And a margarita maker- for you, of course- courtesy of Natalie Berzatto herself. The old apartment, you barely had space for the dishes and pots you had, let alone new ones.

So Carmen kept them tucked away, until he got the new place for you. He didn’t have a clue at the time he’d be buying you the Brownstone you were in now, nestled in the heart of Old Town. A good neighborhood, close-ish to the restaurant, zoned in a good school district- a forever home, for the two of you.

“I mean, most of it was wedding gifts.” Carmen shrugged. “The rest are your shoes.” He teased, a playful glint in his eye when he looked over at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha,” You said sarcastically, bumping him with your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m never doing this again. We’re here for life, Berzatto.”

“That’s the plan, Berzatto.” Carmen nudged you back lightly, leaning to press a sweet kiss to your blushing cheeks, a loving squeeze to your ass when he passed you that left you squealing.

“The good news is,” Carmen paused, sliding the pot onto the hanging rack over the island, stepping back to admire it. “The kitchen is unpacked.”

“The most important room.” You hummed playfully. Carmen nodded in agreement, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“Think we should celebrate?” Carmen grinned. “Christen it?”

“We already christened it.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Twice- no, three times, already.”

“Yeah but now it’s done.” Carmen countered. “No more boxes in the way.”

“I think you can only christen something once.” You give him a pointed look, ignoring the way his crotch is rubbing against your hip. You were still sore from the celebratory round of “putting the coffee table together” from earlier.

“And I’m starving. Should we order in again?” You hum, looking at the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of champagne and leftover takeout Chinese food. Your stomach turned at the thought.

Carmen caught your grimace, a hand running soothingly down your back. “If you want. I can run to the store, too. Grab some things for dinner. Break in the kitchen now that it’s done.”

“I think I like that idea better.” You nod, leaning against his chest, feeling his chain through his t-shirt- the same chain you had tucked between your teeth earlier. Your knees wobbled at the thought. “What are you making?”

“What’re you in the mood for?” Carmen tilted his head back to look at you. “Can make you whatever, baby, just lemme know.”

“I am down for anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” You giggle, nose snarling at the Chinese food. “Surprise me, Chef.” You grinned smugly, content at how Carmen’s cheeks flushed with heat.

“You wanna come with me?” Carmen asked, reaching over to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter.

You rolled your lips in thought. “I need to shower.” You blink at him sweetly. “I feel all sweaty and gross.”

“Alright. Need anythin’ else, baby?” Carmen is looking for his phone, patting his pockets and turning in a semi-circle to look around him.

You roll your eyes, plucking the phone off the coffee table in the living room, passing it to him. He was always losing his phone. You’d begged him to get an Apple watch but he swore it got in the way of his cooking, so you took to texting Nat or Richie- who always had their phones- when you needed him.

“Something to drink? Unless you want champagne because I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there.” You giggle, looking at the fridge.

Carmen smiled, pulling his hat over his tousled locks. “I got it.” He muttered, leaning to press a sweet, soft kiss to your lips, hands splaying over your hips, pulling you closer and closer into him.

He always managed to make you swoon like that, cheeks rushing with heat, dizzy and light with love. You hoped you’d always feel like this. Even when you were old and wrinkly and wobbly, you hoped Carmen would still kiss you like that- in this very spot, in this very house.

“Oh, Cass Elliot?” You grinned, spinning with the vinyl in your hands, brows raised playfully at Carmen. “He has taste.”

Carmen snorted lightly in laughter, dishrag slung over his shoulder, spooning the sauce over the chicken in the pan. The kitchen was warm, smelling heavily of spices and a dash of citrus. You’d set up the vinyl in the corner by the nook, an old school record player passed down from Carmen’s grandmother. His Nonna Berzatto, who he adored. He had told you about how he’d always go over and help her make Sunday sauce. She had that same vinyl in her kitchen, next to a picture of her parents, and a prayer candle of Mary. It was all he managed to get, keep after she passed and his parents sold everything else that they could. He’d even snagged a few records, though the one you held looked new.

“Yeah. Thought you liked her stuff?” Carmen muttered, eyes cutting to yours gently.

“I do.” You grinned, slipping the record out of the protective paper. “How’d you know that?” You lifted the arm of the record player, slipping out the old disk and sliding in the new one, careful of the bouquet you’d just placed by it. Carmen had snagged one at the grocery earlier, surprising you with the beautiful bloom when you’d gotten out of the shower.

“Because, you told me.” Carmen said simply, checking the asparagus inside the stove. Your heart fluttered. “When we were comin’ back from that trip… The, uh, the one we took to Detroit, remember? You played it on the way back.”

Your chest soared, filling with that warmth that made your body tingle from head to toe. “You remembered that? That was… two years ago?”

“Of course I remembered that.” Carmen scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you like he couldn’t believe you’d say something so ridiculous. “You said that, uh, that one song was like the love song to you. So I-I started listening to it because… ya know, it reminded me of you and stuff.” Carmen muttered, cheeks heating at the omission.

You beamed, lifting the long arm of the record player, letting it softly come to life with a scratch of static before the slow melody filled the room. “You’re sweet.” You hum, arms wrapping around his torso, swaying gently to the familiar medley. “Never would’ve guessed you woulda been this sweet.”

“Yeah? I’m given’ off asshole vibes?” Carmen laughed, hips turning slightly to face you.

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “Gave off recluse vibes.”

“Recluse?” Carmen turned to you.

“Yeah, like… quiet, shy boy vibes.” You giggle. “You barely spoke to me when I started… and you hired me!”

“I thought you were pretty.” Carmen shrugged boyishly. “And I thought if I talked to you, I’d throw up or embarrass myself. Also thought there was no way you’d be single. Too pretty and funny and… I dunno, thought you’d never go out with me.”

“Little did you know.” You grinned wickedly. “I had been stalking you in secret.” Carmen laughed at you. “I thought you were pretty, too.”

Carmen blushed at your omission, lips twitching in a smile. You swayed lightly, cheek pressed to his chest, letting the soft melody lull you. You remembered the car ride back from Detroit. Carmen was going to some chef expo there, trying to network and get Sydney the star she deserved. You’d agreed to go along. Things were far enough along it was stable, but still new and exciting. Your first real trip as a couple. You’d stayed in a hotel, gone to Carmen’s colleague’s fancy restaurant, went sightseeing and shopping hand-in-hand. You couldn’t help feeling so romantic, shuffling songs from the playlist you listened to when you were getting ready for a date. Old school tracks, filled with symphonies and ballads of love.

“I think this is almost done. D’you want to grab the glasses and I’ll-”

“-Let it sit for a minute.” You sigh contently, turning down the heat on the stove top.

“What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffs in laughter, turning while you pull at him, your hand lacing through his own, tugging him to the open space on the other side of the kitchen island.

You just smile at him, pulling him close to you. Your hand in his, the other wrapped around and settled on his spine. His free hand followed, sliding down your back. You leaned towards him, chin tilted towards his face, his curls tickling your forehead. You swayed slowly, nothing elaborate or coordinated, just a soft shuffle type sway, Carmen pulled close to you.

“‘M not good at this.” Carmen’s breath hitched, hand squeezing yours, his thumb gliding over your wedding rings.

“Yeah, you are.” You hum, nose brushing his. “Best dancer I’ve ever seen.” You mutter, your lips slotting over his sweetly. Carmen’s hand left yours, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer, his lips soft against your own. Your head found his shoulder, dipping into his collarbone, arms wrapped around his torso while he rocked you gently. The sound of Cass Elliot’s voice humming out of the record player Baby, I’m Yours fading into Words of Love. The fan from the stove still buzzing with life, wafting out the steam from the pans, rhythmically merging with the sounds from the street. A relatively quiet neighborhood, filled with quiet cars and the occasional children’s screech from their strollers that pushed by. It was all so calming, the sound of your new home. Sounds you hoped would become familiar overtime and still shared with Carmen.

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phoward89 · 1 month

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Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Series Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus

Chapter 4:

You just resumed chopping up the vegetables for the quick stir fry you were going to make for dinner whenever a knock sounded at your door. Oh, so Coriolanus came back for his forgotten jacket. That's good. So, without giving it much thought, you put down your knife and left the kitchen- to go into the main room and answer the door.

But when you opened the door, it wasn't your platinum blonde ex that greeted you, but your current bronze haired boyfriend. Odysseus.

“I brought you some dinner from North Italia.” He smiled, holding up a couple of cardboard boxes with the restaurant’s label on them. “It's squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu.” Odysseus informed you with a bright smile, making his way to your kitchen. “I think you'll like it; it's what I always get when I go there.”

“I usually get the chicken parm and some cannolis, but I'm sure what you got me will be good.” You half lied. Oh, you were honest about what you always ordered from North Italia (a place that you and Coryo seemed to both order out from and attend his business dinners at), but not about how you felt about what Odysseus got you. Just the thought of eating something made of squid ink made you cringe.

Like, really? Squid ink? Food made with squid ink… You know that Odysseus is really into his District 4 roots, but isn't squid ink food a bit much.

“Hmmm…” Your boyfriend skeptically hummed.

“I was chopping up some veggies to make a stir fry with, but I guess I'll just put them up in the fridge for another day.” You told your boyfriend, following right behind him.

Upon entering the kitchen, Odysseus stopped dead in his tracks. The takeout containers fell out of his hands, due to his shock at seeing a red suit jacket and a large bouquet of red roses on your kitchen island.

Your eyes went wide as you remembered the roses and Coriolanus’ forgotten jacket that are on your kitchen island. Oh no…Odysseus saw them.

“Odysseus?” You tentatively asked, coming up next to him and placing a hand softly on his arm.

He could react one of two ways…

Either lash out on you or cry, but both would come with an accusation.

Pushing your hand off of his arm, Odysseus turned to you only to incredulously exclaim, “We've been together for over a week and you're already cheating on me!” Shaking his head, causing his bronze waves to rustle around his shoulders, he rhetorically asked, “What the hell's wrong with you, honey? I thought you were a nice girl.”

“I am a nice girl, Odysseus.” You told your boyfriend, only to quickly deny the cheating (that you finished doing not that long ago) with, “I didn't cheat. An old friend from my Academy days came over. He's a gentleman; has a thing for bringing roses, and forgot his jacket when he left.”

“You expect me to believe that, Y/N?” Odysseus bitterly scoffed. “Please, don't lie to me. We both know that you're not an Academy graduate, honey.”

That took you aback. Why would he assume that you weren't an Academy graduate?

“But-” You began, only for your boyfriend to cut you off with, “We both know what kind of people attend the Academy, Y/N. Hell, I attended it because it's for rich people, and sadly, honey, you're not rich.”

You felt a heavy, sad feeling welling up in your chest, but you pushed it down. You didn't want your new boyfriend to see you get upset from his words. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Plus you only felt comfortable enough with one man to let yourself show emotions around them. Or at least you did, before everything went down the previous month…

Trying and failing not to let your boyfriend's words get under your skin, you retorted with, “I know I'm not rich, Odysseus. I never said I was, but I was raised around rich kids despite growing up not having a pot to piss in.”

“Look, you don't need to impress me by trying to fluff up your background with Academy cred. I’m not into the social hierarchy of the Capitol, unlike my father.” Odysseus told you, clicking his tongue in a slight reprimanding manner. Crossing his arms over his firm chest, he revealed, “I like you, honey, but the fact that I can't trust you now cause of-” Waving his hand towards the red jacket and roses on the island. Refolding his arm over his chest, your boyfriend sighed, “I think we need to take a break for a few days, so I can clear my head and see how I feel about us.”

Of course, he wanted to take a break. You don't blame him one bit for that. If the roles were reversed, you'd probably want a break too.

“I think that maybe you should take a few personal self-help mental health days. Uh, 3 of them should be good.”

“What? Odysseus-”, You began, feeling that 3 personal self-help mental health days was uncalled for just because the two of you got into a fight and decided to take a small break, but Odysseus cut you off dramatically with, “I suspect you of cheating and you need to think about what you did. Plus, honey, we don't need tension in the company, you do work in the marketing department of the Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“You can't expect me to stay home because we're having a misunderstanding, Odysseus. Hell, we don't even work on the same floor.”

“I don't need any company drama, Y/N, and we're not having a misunderstanding. I caught you cheating, honey, and now I have to decide if I want to give you another chance or not; I don't need to be seeing you around my Pop's company while trying to figure out what to do with you.” Odysseus told you before exiting your apartment; leaving you alone in your kitchen entrance to stew in your thoughts.

You’re alone in the elevator, holding the large bouquet of red roses in your hand; red jacket draped over the crook of your arm, furiously rubbing away the tears that are trickling down your cheeks. Your eyes were starting to blur as you saw the floor numbers begin to reach double digits.

You had to quickly dry your eyes. You couldn't let that platinum haired ex of yours see you crying.

No.

You just wanted to give him back his jacket and roses; thank him for fucking up your new relationship too.

Suddenly, the elevator reached its destination and came to a stop. The doors opened with a loud ding, causing you to step out and into the foyer. You didn't even bother to take in the foyer’s modern decor, just made a beeline towards the penthouse door. The sooner you give Coriolanus his stuff back, the sooner you can go back to your apartment and wallow in your misery. Think of something to say when you call up your boss in the morning to take a few impromptu self-help healing days.

Coming to a stop in front of the ornate door, you scrubbed your eyes dry for a final time and let out a sigh. Balling your hand into a fist, you knocked- quickly to signal that you didn't want to wait in the foyer too long.

It felt like hours as you waited for Coriolanus to answer the door, but in reality it was only minutes.

And when you saw him leaning in the doorway, eyes taking in your upset form, you didn't hesitate to throw his forgotten jacket and roses at him while shouting at him to take his stuff back and to stay the fuck out of your life.

When Coriolanus heard the knock on his door, he was on his sofa watching the P-PANEM (Political-PANEM) channel on TV to see how he was doing since announcing his Senate run. And, sadly, he was ranked at the bottom, which pisses him off. So, your knock was actually a nice distraction from the bullshit he was listening to about himself.

And he knew it was you too. How did he know? Eh, call it lover's intuition.

It only took Coriolanus a few minutes to reach his front door and answer it.

But when he saw your red puffy eyes paired with the roses and his red jacket in your clutches, he knew that his plan worked. He just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Wow, seems like Odair just had to see you tonight. He was expecting the big cheating breakup fight to happen in the morning or tomorrow night. But it happening so soon worked in his favor.

“Take your roses and jacket back.” You told the tall, sinewy man in front of you while throwing the stuff at him. The jacket and roses flew over his shoulder, landing on the marble floor with a loud thud. “And stay out of my fucking life, you damn bastard.”

Coriolanus figured you'd be upset about a breakup with Odysseus l, but he wasn't expecting you to order him to stay out of your life. Okay, now he wants to know what Odair said to you. What happened to make you start calling him a bastard with a hateful tone of voice.

“Baby, what happened?” The platinum blonde asked, placing his hands on your shoulders in a show of concern and sympathy.

“My boyfriend, Odysseus, came over to bring me some squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu from his dinner meeting at North Italia, but he saw your jacket and the roses you left in my kitchen and now my life's ruined.”

“God, I hope you didn't eat the squid ink shit? That sounds like a case of botulism just ready to happen.” Coriolanus dryly jokes. On a serious note, he did think that the food sounded disgusting- but to each their own.

But hearing you say that your life's ruined did concern him. A simple breakup doesn't ruin somebody's life. So, he was getting the feeling that more than a breakup occurred.

“How is your life ruined now, Y/N?” The blonde asked, needing to know how bad he needed to punish Odysseus for making you cry; ‘ruining your life’.

“Odysseus wants to take a break for a few days and told me that since I work in the marketing department for his father's company that I have to- well he ordered me to- take a few days off for personal self-help mental health days; that Odair Luxury Cruises doesn't need any issues due to me cheating on him.”

“What? He told you that?” Coriolanus asked, not believing the bullshit manwhore Odair was pulling on you. You two didn't even work on the same department, with you being in marketing and him on the top floor playing VP.

“Yes, he did.” You confirmed with a nod.

You're a hard worker and great at your job. Coriolanus was awed that Odysseus was putting your career in jeopardy over his bruised ego. Fuck, even Coriolanus wouldn't do that. In fact, he'd do the opposite. He'd be up your ass at work, trying to work things out.

Then, the aspiring politician had a wonderful idea. Yes, yes, it was perfect. He'd surely win you back with his sudden spur of the moment idea.

“Come in, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you inside of his lavish and modernly designed penthouse.

“There's nothing for us to talk about, Coriolanus.” You objected, trying to pull your hand out of Coriolanus'.

Your ex just tightened his hold on your hand while closing the door behind you. “Yes, baby, we have something very important to talk about.” You just rolled your eyes at him, prompting him to say, “You're fearful about your job, so let's talk about a new career opportunity that’ll make you 92 thousand a year.”

“And what would that be, your personal mistress?” You sarcastically scoffed.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head, leading you around the items you threw on his floor (the maid’ll get it in the morning). “You'd be my campaign manager; my public affairs advisor.”

“What?” You asked, feeling as if the air was knocked out of you, while entering the large living room with Coriolanus.

“Well, you'd be working with me at the Citadel as my assistant, but I'd have you running my Senate campaign and PR.” He told explained, leading you over to the large white leather sofa.

“Part of your PR would be me promoting your engagement and wedding to Livia, Coriolanus. I don't know if I can do that.” You honestly told him while sitting down on the sofa.

Coriolanus sat down next to you, only to cup your chin and say in a manipulative and soft baritone, “It's a money match. And arranged between Strabo Plinth and The Cardews, nothing more. You can do PR on it because, my darling rose, I hate Livia and she hates me right back.” Tenderly stroking your jaw, he went on to assure you, “I have no feelings for her, whatsoever. But it's you that I feel rather fond of.”

Hmm…so he feels rather fond of you. Nice to know that you're on the same level as an old stuffed animal or a memory. Things that people are fond of are usually things that get forgotten or tossed to the side.

Of course, you're easily expendable. You're something that's perfect to be fond of.

You loved (you still love him, but refuse to admit it since you're moving on from him) Coriolanus, but he's just fond of you. Just your shitty luck, huh?

But, despite how you feel, the yearly salary that Coriolanus promised you was more than enough to rent your apartment and to give you a life that your mother and brother always dreamed of for you. A life where you're able to be successful. And perhaps you'll be able to find love again while attending various social events that are only exclusive to high Capitolite society.

“Fine, I'll do it. I'll take you up on your job offer.” You told him, hoping that you wouldn't regret saying yes.

“Wonderful, darling.” Coriolanus smiled widely, pearly whites on full display. He thought that he'd gotten you right where he wanted you, but he has no idea that you're just using the new career move to secure a future in Panem.

A future without him. One where you can rely on yourself and show everyone that you're perfectly capable of being successful in the dog eat dog world of Capitol City, Panem.

Plus, there won't be any work drama at the Odair company if/when you and Odysseus decide to work things out and get back together.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @dcylight-fciry

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thealtoduck · 3 months

Text

The One Where A Model Moves In Upstairs

Joey Tribbiani x Male Reader

Warnings: Implied abuse from your ex, the guys assume you’re a girl…

Summary: The guys find out that a model moved in to the apartment above Joey and Chandler’s…

——

Rachel and Monica walked towards the enterance of their apartment building where they saw a moving truck parked outside filled with boxes and furniture. ”Is someone moving in?” Rachel questioned. ”Yeah, i heard that someone got the apartment above Joey and Chandler” Monica explained.

”Come on, let’s go welcome them” Rachel said, Monica uttred a quick ”Yeah” in agreement amd the two made their way over. A young man came out from the apartmen building and picked up one of the boxes.

Rachel and Monica immediately noticed how handsome he was. Rachel could have sworn she’d seen him before somewhere. ”Hi, excuse us, are you the one moving in to this building?” Rachel asked. ”Yeah, i am, do you live here?” you questioned cheerfully.

”Yeah, we live on the third floor, I’m Monica and this is Rachel” Monica introduced the two. ”Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/n, I’m moving on to the fourth floor” you told them. Rachel then had a moment of realisation. ”Oh my god” she exclaimed. ”Now i remember you’re the model Y/n L/n” she said excitedly and you nodded in confirmation.

”I loved the photoshoot you did for Vogue last month” Rachel said. ”Thank you so much, it’s always nice to meet people who appreciate my work” you thanked her. Monica then gave a look at the truck behind you. ”Would you like some help bringing up all the boxes?” she offered.

”I mean if you don’t mind some help would be really nice” you said. The two then helped you bring all the boxes up to the apartment.

——

Later that day when Rachel and Monica were back in their apartment Joey entered taking some food from the fridge as usual. ”Hey Joey” Rachel greeted. ”Hey Rachel” Joey said mouth full of food. ”Did you meet the model?” she asked.

”The model?” Joey questioned, his interest peaking. ”Yeah, a model moved in to the apartment above yours” Monica told him. ”Really? Was she hot? Bet she’s a real smoke show” Joey asked and started fantasizing.

”Uhm… Joey the model is a gu-” Monica tried but Joey cut her off saying excitedly ”I gotta go tell Chandler” and he walked out the door back to his own apartment. ”Should-… Should we tell him?” Rachel asked. ”No, he needs to learn to listen. Plus, this will be more fun” Monica said.

——

While you were unpacking cardboard boxes there came an eager knock on the door. You got up from the floor and walked to the door. You opened it and your eyes were met with three rather handsome guys, one of which were leaning against the doorframe, all their eyes widened slightly once they saw you.

”Hi, can i help you?” you greeted. ”Uhm, is your sister home?” One of them asked. ”I don’t have a sister” you answered awkwardly. ”Is your mom home?” Another one tried. ”No, she dosen’t live here” you told them. ”The model! Where’s the model?!” The guy who had been leaning against the door yelled in deperation.

”Oh… I’m the model” you told the three, making their eyes widen again. ”Welcome to the building” a guy with brown hair said nicely and a guy with short black hair added a quick ”Yeah”. The two then sprinted away in embarassment. Leaving only the guy who had been leaning against the doorframe.

His suprised face then turned in to a flirty smile and he said ”How you doin’?”. ”I’m fine” you said a bit stunned from the interaction with the other two. ”Heard from my friends that you just moved in and wanted to personally come welcome you” he explained. ”I’m Joey Tribbiani, and if you ever need anything i’m just one apartment below” he introduced himself charmingly.

”Nice to meet you Joey, I’m Y/n L/n” you told him.

——

Joey was having a major crisis, he had been flirting with a guy. He’d never done that before in his whole life, but you were so breathtakingly beautiful he couldn’t help himself. Now he didn’t know what to do.

He entered the central perk where the others were waiting. ”Hey Joey, what’s up?” Phoebe greeted. ”Hey, it’s nothing, it’s just this guy Y/n, he’s so awesome but in like the way chicks are awesome, it’s so confusing”. The friends gave each other a look before looking back at Joey.

Monica then voiced their thoughts by asking ”Joey, are you trying to say you’re ”intrigued” by a guy?”. ”Maybe, i’m not sure” he said. ”Well-Well-Well looks like Joey the ladiesman has become Joey the mansman” Ross joked.

”Hey Joey Tribbiani is for everybodies enjoyment, okay?” Joey stated seriously.

”Are you gonna ask him out?” Rachel asked. ”I don’t know, how do you even go about asking a guy out?” Joey questioned, which was followed by a long thinking silence. ”How do you girls ask guys out?” Ross asked looking at Rachel, Phoebe and Monica.

”We don’t know, guys usually asks us out” Phoebe said and the other two nodded in agreement. ”Guess you’ll just have to figure it out” Chandler said leaving Joey to his thoughts.

——

Next time you and Joey met he would get his chance to talk to you. You were awkwardly dragging a large package up the stairs. Joey then appeared from the bottom stairs saying ”Hey Y/n, what’s in the package?”.

”It’s my new dinner table, could you help me get it up to my apartment?” you asked. ”Of course” Joey said eagerly, immediately grabbing the package and helping you carry it. Once you entered the apartment you put the package down.

”Thanks you so much for the help, Joey” you said gratefully, you kneeled down and started opening the package. ”No problem, will you be fine from here?” he asked helpfully. You then picked up a thick building manual from the package as realisation kicked in, you looked up at Joey from the ground and said ”No, i don’t think so”.

”I’ll get some tools” Joey said opening the door and went down to get a toolbox in his apartment.

”Thank you” you called after him.

——

After several hours of trials and tribulations you and Joey had managed to put together the dinner table. ”Thank you so much, Joey, anything you need just ask, i promise i’ll do something nice for you” you thanked him gratefully. Joey smiled and saw his moment.

”Well there was one thing i wanted to ask you-” he started but was cut off by a large banging on the door.

”Y/n! Are you there?” A male voice asked, Joey went to open the door but you stopped him saying ”Don’t open the door, it’s my ex, i really don’t wanna see him”. Joey noticed how tense you had become.

Another set of violent knocks came. ”Y/n! I know you’re in there! Open the door!” his voice came again, louder this time. ”Go to your room, i’ll take care of him” Joey told you. ”Joey, I-” you started but Joey reasured you ”Don’t worry i’ll handle him”. You did as told and went in to your bedroom.

Joey opened the door and was met with another man. The man seemed suprised seeing Joey ”Who are you?” he asked. ”I’m Joey. You should get out of here, man, Y/n dosen’t wanna see you” Joey told him patiently. ”I just want to talk to him” your ex said and tried to make his way in only for Joey to block his enterance with his arm.

”I said he dosen’t wanna see you” Joey said sternly. The guy grew annoyed and hissed ”Hey, this is none of you business, man, so stay out of it and let me in”. ”It is my business if you’re harassing one of my friends, so get out of here now before we call the police” Joey threatened.

Your ex glared at Joey before stomping away angrily, Joey closed the door and locked it. You came out of you room saying gratefully ”Thank you, Joey”. ”Hey, no problem-” he was caught of guard as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

Joey then hugged you back saying ”If he comes back, you let me know and i’ll deal with him, okay?”. ”Thank you” you said putting you face against his shoulder. ”Was there something you wanted to ask before?” you then remembered.

It hardly felt like the right time to ask you out so Joey settled for ”Me and the others were planning on grabbing some pizza and rent a movie, would you like to join us?”.

You smiled and answered ”I’d love to”.

#joey tribbiani x male reader #joey tribbiani x male!reader #friends x male reader #friends x male!reader #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #male!reader

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misstycloud · 1 year

Text

Yan!husband x reader x Yan!ex

You and your dear husband have gained new interesting neighbours from your past. What will your former love say now that you’re promised to someone else?

————————-

“Phew, that’s the last one.” Arthur exhaled and finally allowed himself to take a breather. He reached his arms up and stretched his back, hearing satisfying cracks.

“Yes, now I can sleep.” You exclaimed bliss.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s dinner first, then you can sleep.” Your husband kissed you tenderly on the cheek and you groaned.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not even hungry.”

Arthur gently smiled with amusement, “Nice try, dear. But it won’t work on me.”

You huffed in frustration and crossed your arms in defiance for not being able to sway your husband, and said husband simply laughed at your failure.

You and Arthur had just come back from your honeymoon in the Maldives, which had been wonderful and deeply romantic. He had done everything to make it perfect for the two of you, always peppering you in his attention and affection. Never once did his mind stray to something else besides you. It seemed like he didn’t let you out of his sight, in the least.

It made you feel somewhat overwhelmed but you assumed every woman shared your notion. You had just married after all. It was normal. Completely normal.

Befor you flew on you honeymoon, you decided to buy a new beautiful house together. The apartment you lived in previously wasn’t bad in any way, tough you two wanted something fresh. Something that also came with a garden, of Arthur got to chose. Gardening was a hobby he’d picked up this year, he was capable of growing elegant blooms without struggle and it was something he took pride in. Some people-like you for example- clearly didn’t possess the green thumb like he did, you still tried to recreate some of his creations and failed miserably.

Luckily your then fiancé, didn’t judge people based on their ability to grow plants and didn’t kick you out.

“Honey, what do you feel like eating today?” Yelled Arthur from the kitchen to you, who sat in the living room.

The moving company had already placed your bigger furniture in the house, so you had something to sit on. It didn’t help the ugly view of the mountains of cardboard boxes laying spread out in the floor. The TV was also among the things to first be unpacked, you simply couldn’t live without it. Oh well, it it what it is.

“I dunno, pasta maybe?”

“Pasta it is.” He complied while opening a box that had ‘non-fridge food’ written on it, and grabbing a package of spaghetti. He knew exactly what dish to make and put on an apron.

Then he laid out the other ingredients needed and began boiling the water. As the man cut the vegetables, you approached him from behind and gave him a hug.

“Can I help?”

“I’d….rather not have you do that.” Arthur carefully admitted and turned to look at you with a sorry smile. “It’s better if you just go watch TV, and let me do the work.”

“But…” you began protesting, noticing the cutting board and the vegetables atop it. “I can help you cut the garlic and tomatoes.”

He pulled you back as soon as you prepared to grab the knife laying beside the board, and clasped your hand close to his chest, “Ah, darling! Don’t do that.” He blurted out.

“W-what, why?”

“Because I wouldn’t want my sweet wife to hurt herself.”

“I won’t, come on Arthur. It’s not like accidentally I’ll cut my finger off and then die.”

At your dreadful words, he hissed in response and quickly said, “Don’t say that.” And stared into your eyes with such determination and intensity that you almost forgot who you were and where.

“R-right, sorry.” You apologised for the gruesome picture you had painted in his mind and awkwardly turned your gaze to the ceramic tiles making up your floor.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m keeping you from doing the things you want, I don’t deserve you. You shouldn’t have married me.” He explaned dejectedly and looked at the floor, him too.

“It’s fine, I promise.”

Arthur felt you softly caress his cheek and saw you smiling at him.

“I can go watch TV, no problem.”

You left him to his own devices in the cooking area and plopped down on the grey couch and scrolled through films you found uninteresting. Seeing you follow his advice, the man you call husband smiled in satisfaction and went back to cooking.

Throwing yourself on the couch, you groaned in contentment. You got to say that the food absolutely slapped and now your stomach demanded rest. Arthur was way to good at cooking, he seriously belonged in a culinary show or something. You had complimented him for his skills for years now and every time he brushed you off with a humble shrug, saying he isn’t all that and there are better out there.

“Ugh…”

“Don’t fall asleep on the sofa.” Arthur warned, preferring for you to go directly to bed instead of slouching off in the living room. Though if push came to shove, he would carry you.

“I’ll try…” you murmured and closed your eyes despite his words.

Seeing your drowsy form, he chuckled and continued doing the dishes. You on the other hand, struggled to keep yourself conscious and nearly fell to the grasp of sleep multiple times. When you felt yourself drifting off, you forced your eyes open, only to have them close again.

The sudden ring of the doorbell brought back energy, only enough to let you listen in. Arthur had went to the door when hearing it, and he wondered to who it could possibly be. Him and you were new here, so it couldn’t be a neighbour visiting for a friendly chat since no one knew you. He hadn’t ordered anything either and as far as he knew, you hadn’t either.

The man peeked outside through the peephole imbedded in the large piece of wood and saw an unfamiliar man-no older than himself- standing right outside. Compared to his own natural raven hair, the stranger had bleached blonde hair. Sadly it appeared someone hadn’t gotten the bleaching done properly for the strands had a yellow hue to it.

His clothes consisted of a harsh red t-shirt, quiet wrinkly Arthur had so admit. Perhaps did the man outdoors drop the bleach on his jeans as well, when changing hair colour. Because they too were stained with lighter colouration than other parts of them.

Deciding to ask him to what brought him to your home, Arthur graciously opened the door just as he noticed the blonde reaching for the bell a second time since no one had opened, and the lights were on which meant there was indeed someone home. What he didn’t know was that he had been scrutinised by a pair of grey eyes for quite some time.

“Yes, can I help you?” Said Arthur in a polite but firm tone, signaling he wanted no play and get right to it.

The stranger had stepped back a foot when the door abruptly swung open and a very tall-maybe annoyed- man stared down at him. Frankly, he wasn’t that much taller, but it still showed when standing so close to each other.

“Eh, hey.” He greeted, “I’m your new neighbour. Sorry to bother, but you don’t happen to have some eggs you don’t need?”

One of Arthur’s brows shot up at the question, “We do, in fact. Why? You want to borrow some.” The last sentence would have seemed like an inquiry, it clearly wasn’t, based on the tone he used. It was a statement.

The blonde gawkily nodded and laughed stiffly, “Yeah, sorry I get that you got here like today.”

“It’s fine.” Your husband sighed, “but don’t forget to pay us back.”

“Us?” The stranger said, slightly confused.

“Me and my wife.”

“Oh, sorry man. Thought you moved here alone.” He apologised.

Arthur didn’t wish to speak to this man longer than he had to. He would have preferred to slam the door in this rascals face and reject his request for eggs, but even he understood it was something that wouldn’t benefit you in the further. He had to make a good impression on neighbours in order to live without trouble, at least on a social level were you lived. It wasn’t fun to be at odds with your neighbour, you live in the same building after all.

Rolling his eyes, the black haired man left the blonde man at the house entrance to fetch some of the requested food.

While resting, you had listened to their entire conversation. And though you had no idea to who the stranger at the door could be, the voice did sound dreadfully familiar. You had defiantly heard that voice before, long ago. Getting up from your position, you followed your husband from behind and peered over his tall frame to spot a glimpse of the person.

When you saw them. You understood why the voice was so familiar.

Feeling your body stiffen and blood run cold, eyes widening you were only able to mumble, “…W-Weston..?”

Instantly when he heard your voice, the blonde man noticed you. And turned his attention on you with the speed of lightning, intensity burning. You gasped. His expression mirrored yours. The eggs he so wished to borrow splattered on the floor in a yellow goo.

“…(Y-Y/n)…..?” He uttered just as shocked as you currently felt. “What are you…?” Weston wandered off in the middle of his sentence.

As the exchange went on in stunned silence, your husband observed the scene with raised suspicion. Did you know this man?

Weston’s initial shock wore off and his features transformed into a supple smile, he stuttered as he tried to get his thoughts out. “I-it’s been so long….what a-are you doing here?” he heavily exhaled in amazement.

“I…I live here..” your answer was as stiff as a board and you glanced at Arthur, who was also looking perplexed at you.

As if he suddenly understood a hard math problem, Weston perked up, “Oh, are you visiting your sister and her husband? So you currently live with them? I know this is far from your childhood home.”

Damn, he had already began making assumptions. It would be very awkward to correct him now, but you couldn’t lie to him. It would just make things more confusing and complicated in the future when he wondered to why you hadn’t gone back to ‘your’ home.

Your husband reacted before you could, “No, she is not visiting. She lives here and is in fact my wife.” He spat, hating that he created theories on you relationship.

“W-what..?” He forcibly laughed as if he thought he heard wrong, “she’s your wife..?”

“Yes. Now who are you to be so familiar to my (Y/n)?”

“Me?” Weston scoffed, “I’m her boyfriend.”

Not wanting things to become more sour than it was, you hastily broke in, “Were, Weston. You were my boyfriend.” You reminded.

When you were 15 years old, you met Weston at your school. The two of you had been put in the same class and therefore had to work together on assignments, from time to time. Despite having gone to the same school since elementary, you had never properly spoken to each other. Simply overlooking the others existence unless you had to interact. Like, during a game of tag, for example. Those were circumstances you needed to talk, but didn’t further the relationship. Choosing to stay with your respective friend group.

The time you really started hitting it off were when you had a super important assignment that would determine a great deal of your grade that year. So that was when you really focused and took the task seriously, and spoke carefully about what would be a good idea and what wouldn’t. Compared to previous pair work, where you and Weston didn’t speak five sentences to each other, came to an agreement instead of ditching as soon as you could like you had done other times. So it wasn’t weird that you two started hanging out and chatting more now that you found out that the other party wasn’t all that bad, as you might’ve thought.

Aquintances turned to good friends, that became best friends, which eventually blossomed to romance.

Weston was your first boyfriend. He was your first everything, and you were his first as well. As you were so young back then, you stupidly believed you’d stay a couple forever. Reality proved your belief wrong as it does most of the time. When you got older, you wanted to peruse different things. The deduction to break up was mutual, though its reinforcement was mostly you and met with some resistance from Weston. However, it all ended anyway.

Hearing your defiance, Weston yielded. “Yeah….right.”

“You were..dating..” you heard Arthur mumble under his breath, not sure if he wanted an answer or not you still said.

“Yeah, back in high school and such. Sorry, I didn’t know he lived here, too.” The last part you murmured in his ear, quietly.

“Sooo…you’re married!” The blonde exclaimed an unnaturally cheerful voice. “I’m glad, hehe. You did always wish to get married, so that’s great.” He let out an equally strained laugh.

“Eh..yeah, hehe. I guess so.” You pretended that you didn’t remember that he was the one you had wanted to marry in your younger days. And now it was weird since you were indeed married, just not to him. “So you live next door?” Bending down, you collected to egg shells still covering the floor.

“Yeah, I do.” Weston copied your movement to help you clean up the mess he’d made but was stopped by your spouse, who sent him another one of his furious looks.

The tall, dark haired man couldn’t bear to see some pathetic lowlife from the past ruin things between you and him. Things had gone to perfectly smooth in the latest years, and no one-exactly no one- will he let destroy it.

Witnessing your husband aiding you in your job, he retracted his hands and stood there as still as whatever is the ‘still-est’

“Don’t worry, I’ll get some new ones for you.”

“No need, it’s not that urgent. I promise.” he reassuringly stated.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Shrugging, you went to the kitchen to throw away the discarded shells and grab a towel to wipe the egg yolks. When you came back with the paper, your surprise visitor was gone like the wind.

“Where’s Weston?” You asked Arthur, sending him a perturbed expression.

The man told you not to worry, “He’s gone home. It wasn’t urgent, like he said. He said to me he would simply make something else to eat.”

Thinking it was a bit rude to just rush off like that, you couldn’t blame him for it. This unexpected meeting was rather startling. The next time you’d run into him(which you’ll undoubtedly do), you’d try to be as nice as possible to him. Being enemies with neighbours was a freaking pain in the ass. No thanks.

“Okay, I’ll let him borrow things in the future if he’d so wish. “

“That sounds great, honey.” Arthur gazed at you as you closed and locked the front door after Weston’s departure. Then as you ventured back and up to the second floor, leaving Arthur alone in the the same position.

His smile had faded significantly and he muttered, “This can be a problem.”

——————————-

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homunculus-argument · 1 year

Text

The first night when me and my boyfriend moved into our current apartment, we didn't have any kind of furniture here yet, just a mattress on the floor and his computer propped up on a cardboard box. He thought it would be funny to take a photo of the arrangement and share it on discord like "hey guys check out my gaming rig", after meticulously arranging the scene to look as bleak as possible.

Finland has a beverage bottle/can recycling system where you get a small deposit when you return them to the recycling system at the store. While 10-40 cents apiece may not seem like much, it adds up pretty quickly, and six trash bags full of cans can easily be 30 euros which is significant grocery money. We like to hoard up our soda cans over the course of months and return them all at once, to the point where the bags need a shopping cart to haul, and this one time he wanted to take a picture of our haul to show it off to people unfamiliar with the finnish beverage recycling system.

For the time being, due to not having access to a proper fridge or microwave at his workplace, his work lunches consist of a single can of canned fruit and a protein bar. He took a picture of his week's worth of lunches - five cans of peaches and five bars - to show off his meal prep, once again prompting comments along the lines of "dude what the shit, why do you live like this".

As our hobbies and interests have very little overlap, and we're still working out how to come up with a living arrangement that we would both be happy in, I've had people wonder how we're even together since we seem to have nothing truly in common. But looking at the big picture, the one thing we both truly, genuinely delight in is the joy of doing sensible, pragmatic things in unconventional-looking ways, and showing it off to baffle people like

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beansprean · 11 months

Text

I did not want to draw a weeks-or-months-old decomposing corpse so let's all just continue to hand wave any sort of concrete timeline for this comic.

My Familiar’s Ghost part 42

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on past Guillermo, in sepia tones, as he looks up at Nandor with a nervous grin, cheeks flushed. He asks, 'Are...are you going to eat me?' 1b. Zoom out, close up on past Nandor in the foreground in profile as he turns his gaze away from Guillermo with an uncomfortable grimace. He grumbles, 'I was going to, but you're kind of taking all the fun out of it...' Guillermo pipes up with an 'I'm sorry!' in the background, still smiling and wringing his hands together. 1c. Back in the present, close up on Nandor walking through the hall behind the Panera counter, looking down in surprise as he steps in something wet. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'Do you want me to...run or something?' 1d. Shot of the floor in front of present Nandor from his POV, showing a dead human in a Panera hat and apron laying there in a pool of blood, throat ripped out. Nandor rolls her over with his foot and says, 'Yeesh, already slacking on body disposal, Guillermo?' 1e. Close up on present Nandor in profile as he looks back up, brow furrowed and eyes shining with regret. He says, 'I proper sire would have... Would have seen you through this.' 1f. Back to the past, sepia tones. Medium shot of past Nandor squinting down at Guillermo and leaning away with a look of suspicion, as if he were contagious with something. He asks, 'Why are you so eager? Are you some kind of...death pervert?' Offscreen, past Guillermo responds, 'No, no! I just...'

2a. Back to the present. Shot behind Nandor as he walks through the hall behind the Panera counter, coming to an wall straight ahead with a few miscellaneous cardboard boxes, a metal freezer door to the left, and a wooden door to the right that says 'employees only'. The door is cracked open slightly, letting a dim light into the dark hallway. Nandor walks toward it. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'I've always wanted to be a vampire.' 2b. Close up on Nandor's hand closing around the doorknob to the room. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues, 'And I figure...' 2c. Wide shot from within the room as Nandor opens the door fully, his silhouette visible in the doorway on the far wall. It appears to be a break room, or was, with a unisex bathroom on the left wall, a collection of round tables and wooden chairs, and a short counter with upper and lower cabinets, sink, and coffee maker on the far wall next to a top-freezer refrigerator. The fridge is cracked open, which is what let light into the room. In the righthand corner closest to the viewer is a nonfunctional soda machine that says 'bepis' on the front. There is blood smeared around the fridge handles, the light switches, the soda machine buttons, in shuffling footprints on the floor, congealed in styrofoam cups scattered around the counter next to an abandoned cardigan, and dripping down the cabinets. One of the tables is overturned against a wall along with a chair with several broken legs. More importantly, perhaps, the room is littered with corpses. There is a dark-skinned bald man laying in the center of the room who appears to be wearing a Panera apron and is, presumably, human. The bald corpse laying next to him with pointed ears and a long black cape is decidedly not. Another body lays tangled in the fallen table and chair, bloodied cape tossed over their head. A woman in leather and a long skirt lays on her back on an upright table, coated in blood and throat ripped apart, staring emptily past the viewer with her mouth hanging open to show her fangs. Another corpse is slumped upright against the wall next to Nandor, wearing bellbottoms and a paisley shirt. His head is tipped back, mouth open and full of sharp teeth, the broken wooden leg of a chair sticking out of his chest. As Nandor stands and stares at the carnage, past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'It's now or never, right?' /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #blood tw #death tw #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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applcrumbl · 10 months

Text

Seven Stages

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Ex! Reader, JJ Maybank X Reader Warnings: Strong Language, Talk of Alcohol Author's Note: Do I smell a series? perhaps....

Summary: When your boyfriend Rafe leaves you for another woman, You find solace in JJ Maybank.

part i. shock.

There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After your boyfriend of a year broke up with you for no apparent reason at all, it felt as if you’d never get past stage 5.

When Rafe told you that it was over, it was a blow to the stomach. The initial impact knocked the wind out of your lungs and left you frozen to the spot. You knew what he was like, you should have seen it coming, but that didn’t mean you hurt less.

“I’m sorry” he explained, staring into your impassive eyes, “But, It’s what is best,”

“Is it someone else?” you asked, the question was engraved in your mind, though you were scared to ask it.

Rafe was taken aback, “Don’t you trust me?” He accused.

“Tell me the truth, and I’ll answer that”

He hesitated, “Yes”

You didn’t say anything more and instead went to bed.

In all honesty, it didn’t feel like it had actually happened, and when you woke up the next morning you made two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. 3 slices for Rafe, the way you knew he liked it. It hadn’t quite occurred to you yet, that he hadn’t spent the night. The lonely half-hour at your family’s breakfast bar is what made that apparent.

The plate was thrown at the wall, and a string of curse words tumbled out. You ripped the chain from your neck, tiny golden links and a wildly expensive pendant scattered along the floor. Never one for material things, you felt no guilt at the action. Though part of you wished you just sold it, or donated it. Even kept it as something to give back to him later - an excuse to see him again.

Rafe’s things got thrown haphazardly into a cardboard box and left beside the front door. Some clothes, a set of cufflinks and his favourite polo shirt. Along with the gift you were set to give him on his upcoming birthday.

You called him that night. It was supposed to be a quick phone call saying that he could come to collect his things from your house, but transformed into a full-blown argument. Screaming down the receiver, you called him every derogatory name under the sun. At that moment, you hated Rafe Cameron.

“Stop calling me, Y/N.” he would say.

“Stop being such a dickhead, and just talk to me!” you begged, “Why?”

“Y/N”

“Please”

The dial tone sounded. A noise that became all too familiar.

The depression came in quickly and stayed a while. The previous stages had flown past in a whirlwind, and now you were left to wallow in your feelings. Much less angry with Rafe and his wandering eyes, and much more upset with yourself for not being good enough. By the time you managed to pull yourself out of your bed, the news of the breakup had spread throughout Figure 8. The cut heard soon after, almost like a celebrity break-up so the small island of Kildare. Gaggles of giggling girls all made faces at you as you passed. Each ready to get their hands on the islands newest, and richest, eligible bachelor. Talk of your ex boyfriend littered every teenage social spot. Kook and Pogue alike.

You tried to phone your best friend Sarah. But, she never answered the call. Probably choosing Rafe’s side in order to keep the peace at home. She was his sister after all. So you were entirely alone.

That was 3 months ago. It was a fresh new year.

You’d moved on, completely skipping the 6th stage and moving on to acceptance. Rafe didn’t want to be with you, and that was fine. It was his choice. Besides, had you never gone through those stages of grief, you wouldn’t be where you are now. Your new boyfriend tapping on the edge of the fridge.

“What do you wanna eat, Babe?” JJ asked, head peering from the kitchen.

“I’m not sure, what do we have in?”

With a hand resting on the top of the fridge, JJ peered inside. “Nothing interesting, I’ll go pick up something from the wreck then, yeah?”

“Your treat? Or am I just wishfully thinking?”

“I’ll pay you back in other ways?” he jokes, ghosting a kiss on your lips, “I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a sly smirk. You had money, he had none. But he made up for that in other ways, ways that Rafe never could. JJ left the house with another peck on your lips, almost tripping on the box that stayed gathering dust at the front door. Rafe’s things. Which he still hadn’t come to collect.

They didn’t bother you anymore, you were just eager to see them gone. After all, JJ and you were due to move to your own condo late that week, and nobody wants to move their girlfriend’s ex’s things into their house. It was bad enough that they still sat there. And it was bad enough that JJ couldn’t stand Rafe at the best of times.But, he put up with it, for he knew that she was 100% with him. That Rafe was no longer even a whisper on her mind.

The night was a relaxing one, Sarah had finally spoken to you, a rambled apology about her absence. You brushed it off, she had to pick a side, and after all, Rafe was still her brother.

“But I’m not even fond of Rafe,” she said, “There is no excuse for ignoring you like I did”

The phone call was long and comforting. You hadn’t spoken to many people since the breakup, at least not those who inhabited the rich southern side of the island. You spent your time with JJ’s small group of friends. Plus, you knew that Sarah was skipping out on a potential date with Topper to talk to you instead. You insisted that she could go if she wanted, but you could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Who’s there?” a familiar voice slurred in the background, “is that Y/N?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to yo-”

Sarah’s protests were cut off by the drunken man who had grabbed the telephone and promptly pressed it to his ear. You could hear her struggle to ge her phone back, but understood her plight, knowing all too well how stubborn her brother was.

“Y/N?” the voice asked. “Baby is that you?” Rafe practically pushed Sarah from the bed as he fought to keep possession of the phone. Both hands clutching it in desperation. As if it were to dissipate into thin air.

“Hi Rafe.”

It was the first time you had spoken to him since stage 3, and you were surprisingly calm.

“I’ve missed you so much” he cried, voice wavering from both a mixture of the booze, and his emotions, “I fucked up, baby. I need you”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“That doesn’t change anything,” he argued, the letters in his words melting together. It was barely understandable. He was very clearly inebriated, and for someone who could so easily hold his drink, it was almost worrying.

The front door opened again, the vinegary smell of fish and chips wafting through to your nose. “I’m home” JJ called

“Can you hand the phone back to Sarah now, I have to go see JJ” You excused. Part of you wanted to just hang up, but a bigger part wanted to say goodbye to Sarah. She deserved that.

“Maybank? That Pougue?” Rafe asked, sounding much soberer. Almost angry. “Why the fuck are you with him?”

“He’s my boyfriend, Rafe. Now can you hand the phone ba-”

Your words fell on empty ears, however, as Rafe thrust the phone back into Sarah’s hands. Clicking the end call button as quickly as he would have answered it.

There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After his ex-girlfriend had revealed the news that she’d moved on, with another man. Rafe started his cycle at stage 1.

#applcrumbl #writing #jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj maybank fluff #rafe cameron fluff #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank smut #rafe cameron smut #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks

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rayslittlekitten · 9 months

Text

Can I?

A/N: Okay y'all. It's here, it's done. Y'all voted on this a while back and it was a bit challenging as I made the mistake of starting to write it with Will in mind so I had to make adjustments, but I think I figured it out. Thank you so so much to @musings-of-a-rose for taking a look at this for me. You are a doll!

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6,033

Pairing: Benny Miller x BFF! F! Reader

Plot: A night of unexpected events occur when you and your best friend innocently test out sex toys you had drunkenly purchased for shits and giggles.

WARNINGS: This is the first fic I am NOT including warning tags because I don't want to spoil anything. There's nothing typically potentially triggering like dark stuff (i.e. CNC) but still I wanted to keep it a mystery going in. SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Your friends were supposed to watch the fight with you tonight but they had bailed with some excuse or two except for your best friend. You thought that his brother would at least still be joining as they usually do everything together - like you wouldn’t be surprised if you found out they hold each other’s dicks while the other pisses - but it’s just going to be you and him tonight. Instead of going to the bar like originally planned, you both decided to pick up a case of beer and hang out at your place. It’s cheaper and less crowded.

There’s a rap at your apartment door and you go to open it. As expected, it's your best friend with the supply.

“Hey, Benny! Just in time!”

"Hey, you got a package," Benny says as he hands you the beer. He bends down to pick up the small brown box off the floor by your door. "What did you order?"

"I have no idea what that is," you reply as you make your way over to the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. "I don't remember ordering anything. Where does it say it's from?"

"The return address just says Warehouse, in Ohio," he replies, inspecting the non-descript package and following you further into your apartment after shutting the door behind him.

He hands you the cardboard box before taking his jacket off and making himself at home. You rip open the package and after seeing the contents, you laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?" he asks, walking closer to you.

"This was a drunk purchase. I totally forgot about these!" You reach in to pull out the items and show him your new purchases.

"What are those?" He looks perplexed.

“This one is a vibrator I keep seeing on Instagram, but it's supposed to be like, amazing," you answer.

"How the hell are you supposed to use that?" He takes one of the packages from you and inspects it, looking at the pictures on the box.

"Well, one way you can use it is you insert this side into your pussy and this part is supposed to sit on your clit," you point and explain to him. "It also comes with a detached remote so someone else can control it.

"I don't know if that's a terrible time or a great time."

"The vibration is supposed to be very powerful but quiet," you add. "Supposed to be discreet. They try to sell it by showing women supposedly wearing it in public under their clothes without anyone apparently knowing and their partner has control of it and she's like losing her shit."

"I'm curious now."

"For science!" You declare as you snatch the package from him. You start opening it up and pull the contents out. "Shit, it needs AAA batteries. TV remote!"

You head to the living room and he follows you. You take the batteries out of your TV remote and shove them into the new toy. After turning it on, it buzzes lightly in your hand, moving subtly.

"Let's see how crazy it can get." You start playing with the buttons until it goes up to the highest setting and Ben's eyes get wide as saucers watching it flop around in your palm, practically jumping out of your hand.

"Jesus Christ!" Benny hops back.

"Yeah, now imagine that between your legs."

"I'm not sure I want to. Looks like it would scramble all the sperm inside my balls. Besides, I don't think it was made for my body parts," he points out.

"You just don’t have an imagination," you jab. "Hmm, should we test drive it?" you suggest as you shut it off.

“What do you mean?" he asks curiously.

"See if the hype is real," you answer. "Especially that other one." You point to the other toy that's still in its package.

"That one's supposed to feel like your clit is actually getting sucked on."

"I didn't even know such toys exist," he confesses.

"There are soooo many sex toys out there, you don't even know. Why don't you go get us some cold ones while I figure these out?" you suggest.

"You really wanna do this?” He checks again.

"Yeah, why not? It's not like we have anything else better to do except watch two grown men beat each other up," you state. “Come on, this isn’t any different than the time we accidentally found Will’s porn stash and you got a boner.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t jerk off.”

“You totally did. Not in front of me, but you were not discreet when you snuck off to the bathroom with one of his magazines to ‘take a shit’,” you look at him knowingly.

“Okay, fine,” he shrugs and adjusts his forward-facing cap. “You have a point.” He heads back into the kitchen to grab some beer.

When he comes back with two opened bottles in hand, he finds you reading the manual and reviewing the other toy.

"So how exactly are we testing these?" he asks, settling down next to you on the couch and taking a gulp of his beer.

"Well, I'm not gonna stick it down my pants if that's what you're thinking. Would that be too weird?” You scrunch your nose while looking over at your best friend who looks just as clueless.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. It ain't going down my pants. No amount of alcohol is gonna get that to happen."

"Okay, I didn't think this through. I mean, I guess we can just test it on our arms or something," you shrug cluelessly, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind and then going back to the manual.

"How would that work?" Benny asks as he takes the remote sitting next to him, inspecting it.

As you begin to answer, he starts randomly pressing buttons and you shriek, jumping in your seat. Benny also jumps back, spilling some of his beer as he reacts to your sudden outburst.

"What the hell?!" He looks over to you.

You instantly reach for the vibrator that happened to be sitting between your legs, snug against the front of your pants and toss it at him. Benny tries to dodge it like it's a dead cockroach, but it lands on his lap and he immediately launches himself off the couch. The vibrator continues to bounce around the cushion of the couch until Benny finally shuts it off.

"What the hell was that, man?" Benny looks over at you.

"It was between my legs when you turned it on, you ass!"

“Well, what the hell was it doing there? You said you weren't gonna test it that way."

"I wasn't! It just happened to be there while I was reading on how to operate the other one. Why'd you turn it on?" You shoot back.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" He shouts. "This shit is like rocket science! How do you women even use these things?"

"Men use them too," you correct him.

“Well, clearly I never have," he admits and returns to his seat, flicking the vibrator towards you to make room for himself.

"You're such a prude. It's not like I was wearing it," you say, grabbing it away from him.

"I'm not a prude! You freaked out so I freaked out." He takes another gulp of his beer.

"Whatever," you mumble, still feeling a bit flustered and embarrassed by what had happened. You turn your attention back to the other toy.

"Wait, you've never used any sex toys before?" you shift your attention back to him.

"Nope," he shakes his head.

"Not even with a partner?" You raise a brow.

"Well, one time this girl wanted to make things interesting and suggested a dildo, but it wasn't for her," he starts. "She wanted to stick that up my ass and I was not about that. Especially not after what I had for lunch that day."

"Aww, no peggy for Benny?" you exaggerate a pout.

"Hey, you should think twice about who you're poking fun of.” He shows you the remote in his hand and turns it back on, spooking you when the vibrator goes off between you and Benny.

"Okay, you're having too much fun with that." You reach over to grab the remote from him but he moves it away from your reach.

You lean in further, but his long arm prevents you from getting access to it. At this point, you’re practically climbing on top of him.

“You’re right. This is fun,” he laughs.

When you get close, he transfers the remote to his other hand so you shift yourself but lose your balance, landing back on the still-on vibrator. You shriek and Benny laughs at you. He turns the setting to the highest as you try to get away from it in your awkward position.

"Benny! You can't just go from 1 to 100 instant—" You finally roll off of it and give yourself a moment. With your eyes closed and teeth digging hard into your lower plump lip, you try to get yourself together.

“Are- are you okay?” Benny asks as his laugh dwindles. “Did you have an orgasm or something?” he jokes.

“No…” you start. “But maybe I almost did - maybe!”

His laugh finally dies, but a smirk remains on his face.

“Seriously?!” His eyes grow wide, turning his body towards you.

“That toy is no joke,” you point to it still wriggling on the couch. “And now I really wanna know what it can do.”

Benny shuts it off and his eyes shuttle between the toy and you.

“Uh… like, now?” He questions.

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating.

“That would be weird, right?” You ask with a squinted eye. “Never mind, forget it—”

“Have at it,” Benny interrupts. “Now I wanna see what this thing can do, too.”

“Really?” You ask with a raised brow, surprised.

“Yeah, like you said, what else is there to do? For science!” He brings up his beer bottle to celebrate it.

“Dork,” you chuckle, snatching the toy.

“Also, maybe I can learn a thing or two from it,” he replies. “Not that I need any help in that department, but I’m always open to learning new things,” he adds.

You roll your eyes.

“Hey, I’m a fighter and a lover. And I’m great at both,” he winks.

“Are you done stroking your own ego?” You look at him, unimpressed.

“I’m sorry. Yes, you can go on to stroke yourself,” he answers, trying to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smirk.

“You’re so dumb,” you roll your eyes again and try not to crack your own.

“But I gotta be the one in control.” He holds up the remote in his hand.

“Benny-“

“I may never have the opportunity to ever do this again,” he says. “Besides, isn’t it what makes this fun? Someone else controlling it?”

You stare back at him and think about it.

“Okay, fine, but-“ you point a finger at him.

“I promise I won’t go from zero to 100, okay? Scout’s honor.” Benny brings his three middle fingers up.

“You weren’t a boy scout,” you point out.

“Fuck you. I was one for like a month,” he corrects you. “So are we doing this or what?”

“Turn around,” you tell him.

“What? I can’t watch?”

“Not watch me put this on. Turn around,” you repeat.

He rolls his eyes and turns his whole body around so the back of his head is facing you. You keep an eye on him as you wrangle your jeans and slip the toy inside you until it fits snug. Benny takes a sip of his beer as he waits patiently. He hears you fumbling around and finally you tell him he can turn back around.

He turns to face you and he looks confused.

“What?” You ask him.

“You have it on? Under your jeans?”

“Yes. I wasn’t gonna let it all hang out willy-nilly,” you tell him. “If you don’t believe me, turn it—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Benny flips the switch and you seize up. He can’t hear it, but your reaction confirms you have it in. He watches you as you stay still and quiet for a few moments.

“Can I up the speed?” He asks.

“Is this the lowest setting?” You calmly shoot back.

“Uh, yeah I think so.” He looks down at the remote to see if there’s any indication.

“Okay, go up one notch. One!” You glare at him.

“Okay, here we go.” He turns it up and you twitch.

You start shifting around in your seat until you feel the vibrator is in optimal position.

“How many speeds does this thing have again?” You ask out loud, reaching for the instruction manual and scanning it. “TEN?”

“Well, here’s number three,” Benny says as he ups the speed.

“Ben— ohhhhh…” Your scolding got cut short when the vibrator starts to really hit the right spots.

The tip of the dildo part tickles your g-spot as the outer part flickers over your clit. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip, trying to concentrate and keep your composure.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you mumble.

“Uh… how are you doing?” He asks, not sure what else to do.

“I’m… “ you freeze up for a quick second and then relax, letting out a heavy breath. “Jeeeesus,” you hiss.

Benny remains quiet as he watches you slightly gyrate against the couch. You close your legs together and cross your knees, trying to recalibrate yourself for the ideal position. He notices your breathing has gotten heavier.

“Higher?” He asks quietly, afraid to interrupt your flow.

“I’m already slipping all around,” you answer without opening your eyes, almost forgetting you aren’t alone.

“That’s not a no…” he points out.

Your teeth digs even deeper into your lower lip as you contemplate whether you want to chase your impending orgasm or not. You hate that at the current setting, it’s only enough to edge you and need a bit more to get you over the top.

“Okay,” you finally say. “Do it.”

Benny takes it to number four and you yelp instantly.

"Oh my god," you start giggling. "This is fucking crazy!"

Your thighs tightly clamp together and your back arches off the couch. You throw your head back as your jaw drops open, letting out a silent scream. Your hips rock against the vibrator, trying to get to the finish line.

"I'm not gonna lie. This is getting me hard."

You open your eyes and glance over at him to see him palming the front of his jeans and rubbing himself through the denim as he watches you trying not to lose your shit.

“How close are you?" he asks.

You feel your face get really warm all of a sudden. His baby blues pierce your eyes and you're suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you already are, like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but at the same time, it’s kinda hot seeing Benny turned on watching you to the point where he’s quasi-touching himself. Noticing your state of shock, he amps up the vibration and you let out an uncontrolled moan.

"Oh, fuck!“

Your hips buck off the couch as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You continue to moan as you ride the wave and try to catch the next one, grinding down on the couch. You don’t even care how silly you might look to Ben right now. All your focus is what’s going on between your legs. Suddenly the vibrator gets stronger again.

“Ben, stop! It’s too much!” You shriek.

You’re relieved when the torture stops, but it also feels odd as you feel the residual buzzing between your legs.

“So… how was it?” Benny breaks the silence. “Was it all your hopes and dreams?”

You take a moment to yourself to process the experience before answering.

“This shit is… I don’t think I ever want to experience the highest setting on this thing,” you tell him. “This thing is like a torture device. It feels like I pissed myself.”

You turn to look at him as you catch your breath and you’re reminded that Benny’s having his own fun with this, bringing you back down to earth. He scoots a bit closer to you with his hand still over his crotch. This new tension is clearly mutually felt as you both stare at each other, waiting for the other person to say or do something first. Your eyes ping pong between his face and his crotch, which he is still lazily rubbing.

“So uh… what now?” Benny asks, licking his lips. “Round two?” he brings up the remote still in his hand.

“N-no! No, no! Don’t you dare-“ you reach for the remote again, but he pulls it back behind him.

You chase after it, lunging towards him and end up getting right in his face.

“Benny!” You try again, but pause when you catch him staring at you, his face no more than a few inches away from yours.

It may be the post-orgasm bliss or the awkward position you both found yourselves in, but you’ve never noticed how easy on the eyes your best friend is. He swallows hard as his eyes scan your face.

“Can… can I kiss you?" he asks suddenly, leaning in and nudging your nose with his, testing the boundaries.

You lick your dry lips and swallow as you glance down at his mouth, seeing it slowly closing the distance. He ghosts his lips over yours, stopping short of actually putting it on yours, waiting for your permission. You answer his question by closing the gap, slotting your mouth over his.

He kisses back, gently at first, matching your energy. When you slip your tongue into his mouth, he cups your face and returns the gesture. You’re both now devouring each other as he turns his body towards you to get into a more comfortable position, adjusting himself to accommodate the bulge in his jeans.

You both continue to make out with more urgency. Benny’s hands start cautiously exploring your body, placing a hand on your waist at first. It wanders down to your hip and he gives it a squeeze. Your own hands start roaming Benny’s body, touching his hard chest first. His warmth is welcoming, making you twist your body and lean into him. Feeling bold, Benny’s hand wanders to your thigh, his fingers brushing the inside, but far from your wet patch.

“Can I touch you down there?” He mumbles between kisses while moving his mouth to the side of your face and down your neck.

“Wha-“ You let out a loud sigh when you feel his soft wet tongue on the side of your neck, shivering when he grazes a sensitive spot.

“Can I touch you down there?” Ben repeats, pulling back, his lust-filled eyes looking down into yours.

His fingers barely scrapes your inner thigh, but you feel the jolt of his touch travel up to where the vibrator is still sitting.

“Please?” He squeaks out as his fingers travel up higher and his breathing gets heavier, matching yours.

Even though the vibrator isn’t on, it still brushes against your clit every time you shift and it’s only making you want Benny more, to help you get some relief. Even though you’ve already cum, you are hornier than ever right now.

You simply nod before capturing his mouth again. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand cupping you, rubbing small slow circles with his fingers. Your hips twitch when he drags his middle finger up and down the thick seam of your pants that’s pressing directly down the center of the outer part of the vibrator which is sitting directly on your clit. He’s barely putting any pressure, but you’re hypersensitive right now and it feels like torture.

Now impatient, you start undoing your pants, trying to quickly get them off. You break the kiss to take a few seconds to focus on ridding your jeans. Benny watches you as he palms himself again, touching himself like he did with you. When you finally get your jeans off, tossing it over the couch, you reach into your underwear to remove the bane of your current existence - the vibrator. Without much effort, the vibrator basically falls out of you. It is drenched in your arousal, a thin sticky string still connects you to it.

It made an audible noise when it slipped out of you, as did Benny. Before you can discard the very used toy, Benny’s hand is back on you, his fingertips teasing the band of your underwear. He keeps dipping further and discovers how slick you really are.

"Jeeeeesus Christ, you weren't kidding. That shit got you so fucking wet," he comments while teasing your opening, slowly dipping his fingertip in, putting light pressure against it but it took no effort to penetrate you.

An audible squelch can be heard when he enters a second finger. You moan, feeling his thick fingers filling you and stroking you inside. He’s definitely reaching places the vibrator couldn’t. He hums watching your face distort when he pushes in further.

Your hand grips his strong forearm, feeling his veins raised and his muscles flexing underneath your palms as he pumps his long fingers in and out of you. The tip of his tongue darts out and licks the corner by his upper lip as he starts curling his fingers up, reaching for that soft spongy spot at the roof of your vagina. Your legs open up wider for him as his fingertips rub your g-spot over and over again. Your senses are heightened watching him watching you with darkened eyes. His thumb starts rubbing your clit as he massages your g-spot and it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to peak. You rock your hips against his fingers as your muscles continually clench and release over his fingers.

"Holy sh-shit," you tremble, feeling the aftershocks.

He pulls his fingers out, dragging them over your clit along the way, making your body twitch at the sensitivity.

“I think I made you cum faster than that toy did,” he jokes.

You crack a half smile but you don’t have the brain power to conjure up a verbal response. After a shared moment, he leans in to give you a quick peck on your lips. As he gets up off the couch, Benny takes his cap off to adjust the position of it, switching it backwards before settling between your legs.

The front of your thin cotton panties are completely drenched through. He can see your outline as the damp fabric clings to your puffy lips.

“Can I taste you?”

His puppy eyes peek up from between your legs. Your brain is mush so you simply nod.

He bunches the top of your underwear in his hand and yanks it up, causing it to brush across your clit. Your hips twitch and as he continues to rub the fabric over you, seeing your reaction to it and drawing out the tease. You moan and gyrate your hips when he puts his mouth between your legs over your underwear. He laps up your juices, licking and sucking as he continues to tug at your panties taut against your dripping cunt, putting pressure on your sensitive nub.

"Ben��" you pant as you push his cap off and run your fingers through his messy dirty blonde hair.

His scruff brushes the insides of your thigh as he continues to eat you out. You gasp when you feel the tip of his tongue breaching your opening, forcing your underwear aside and exposing your core. He puts more pressure with his tongue, slipping in deeper inside you and tasting you. Your hips start rocking against his face, but his tongue can only go so far. He shifts his attention to the swollen bud a little higher, scrunching your panties aside. He circles your clit with the tip before pressing the flat of his tongue and then his mouth over it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks hard. Your thighs clamp around his head and his eyes focus on your face as his tongue continues to play your clit like a fiddle. He grips your hips and holds you down.

“F-fuck…” your breathing becomes irregular as your orgasm builds.

With his mouth still attached to you, he slips his finger inside you to try to find that spot again. You thrust against his face when you feel your third release breaching. Benny intensifies his sucking and fingering, feeling you clench around him. You cry out when the dam breaks and you convulse around him. He doesn’t stop until you still. As you’re coming down from your high, body slouched from being spent, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean.

“So you wanna try that other toy now to see how it compares to the real thing?” He asks as he stands up and wipes his mouth.

He was right about him not needing any help in the bedroom department. You can barely form words right now. Never in a million years would you think your best friend can eat pussy like an expert. Taking from his brother who he regularly competes with, he always strives to be the best in everything he does, but this is on a whole different level. And now he wants to use another toy on you? You don’t think anything can top what he just did to you.

"W-what?" you ask cluelessly, still recovering the most mind blowing oral sex you have ever received.

Your eyes follow him as he reaches for the suction toy to show you. He tries to figure out how to turn it on as he kneels down, returning between your legs.

"You gotta help me out here--"

He's suddenly interrupted when you grab his face and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself. He abandons the toy somewhere and moves up to the couch next to you. You reposition yourself to straddle his lap as you continue to make out. As your hands wander down to the buttons of his jeans, he grabs your ass, squeezing them in his large hands.

When you successfully get his jeans undone, he lifts his hips and helps you pull down his bottoms until he springs free. You look down and reach for his thick cock, warm and soft to the touch. You jerk him as he’s already hard as a rock. Your thumb brushes the underside of his head.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Now it’s your turn to torture him. You slide off his lap and on to the floor, kneeling between his knees. Once in a comfortable position, you grab his length, licking a trail from the base to the tip, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When you get to the top, you wrap your lips around him, wetting the head a bit before inching down to taste the rest of him. Your tongue swirls around his smooth and salty skin, lubricating him as you bob up and down.

“Shhhhit…” He throws his head back against the couch.

Feeling frisky, you try to deep throat him and he grasps within arms reach whatever he can as he groans. He looks over when a hand grabs something unfamiliar to him. It’s the vibrator and an idea comes to his mind.

“Wait,” he reluctantly stops you.

You pause and see him holding up the vibrator.

“Put this on while you suck me. I think it’ll be fun.”

You look at the vibrator for a moment and then back at him.

“I promise I won’t put it so high,” he reassures you.

“Fine,” you agree and you take it from him and slip it inside you, orienting it the right way. “You try anything and I’ll bite your dick off,” you warn, drawing a small chuckle out of Ben.

You get back into the position you were in before and put your mouth back on him. As you go back to sucking him, you yelp when Benny turns the vibrator on at a low speed. The noise you made sent a delightful vibration down his cock, making it twitch. He turns it up a notch and your hips move against the vibrator. You start moving up and down on him a little faster, stroking the base where your mouth can’t reach. You deepthroat him again until you gag, but you keep on going, sending your spit dripping down his cock and lubing him up.

“You look so fucking hot,” Benny pants.

His breathing is getting more labored. His hips jerk up and he places a hand on the back of your head. He’s not putting any pressure, but he fists your hair. He doesn’t pull on it, just moves with you as you fuck him with your mouth. You start quickening your pace feeling the vibrator getting stronger, trying to match it. Feeling the beginning of an orgasm forming, you rock your hips and suck him harder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you.

Not changing your rhythm, you watch him come undone as he pops in your mouth. He thrust into your face as his moans echo in the small space and grasps the remote in his hand, accidentally jumping it up another level, but it’s what you needed to push you over the edge. You grind against the toy as you moan with him still deep inside your mouth. He spills out of the corner of your mouth as his hips slow down.

When he stills, you suck him clean and swallow the load that remained in your mouth. You reach down to pull the vibrator off and toss it onto his lap. Benny jumps in his seat and shuts it off. You wipe the corner of your mouth and chin with the back of your hand as you get up off your knees. He looks back at you with tired eyes as he tries to catch his breath, cock twitching. You squeal when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap, careful with his half hard cock. You straddle his lap and he kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth, tasting a bit of himself. The two of you lazily make out for a bit until Benny pulls back. You lick your lips and smile, looking down at him.

“We should start making this a regular thing, ya know. The toy testing,” Benny suggests, breaking the awkward silence and lightening the mood.

“Well, I do have a dildo I haven’t tried yet,” you half-joke.

He looks back at you with narrow eyes.

“You’re not putting that in my ass,” he states.

“Not what I was thinking,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to be double penetrated,” you explain.

Benny stares at you with a blank expression, but you see his semi twitch in your peripheral.

“Gi-give me maybe fifteen minutes—“ he finally says, pointing to his softening cock.

“Whoa! Hold it there, cowboy,” you stop him. “Why don’t we just think on that? Besides, I don’t have any condoms or lube for that to happen.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he shrugs. “I-I had a good time, if that’s what you were wonder—“

You silence him with a tender kiss before grabbing the vibrator to remove the batteries and toss them at him.

“I’m gonna clean up. Why don’t you put the fight on? I think It’s starting soon,” you tell him as you dismount him and grab your jeans off the floor while Benny pulls his bottoms back up.

“Look what the guys missed out on. Coulda had an orgy,” you joke.

“If everyone showed up, we’d be at a bar,” he points out, then swishes some beer inside his mouth.

“Fair. Okay, a Miller sandwich then,” you switch it up.

Benny chokes on his beer.

“Kidding!” You chuckle awkwardly. “Kinda. Sorry, you probably don’t wanna think about you and your brother fucking the same person at the same time,” you snort before finally heading to the bathroom.

When you get back, you find Benny putting his phone away and relaxing on the couch like he was before any of the sexy stuff had happened, with the TV on. The awkwardness returns. He hands you your beer as you sit down next to him, settling in. You both quietly watch the fight as it starts, but you steal glances at each other every now and then. At one point, you do a double take.

“Dude, are you smelling your fingers?” You look at him incredulously.

“What? I washed them, but I can still smell you.”

You grimace at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You smell good,” he shrugs. “It’s actually getting me hard again.”

You watch him adjust himself. The both of you stare each other down, trying to read each other until a knock on your door breaks the trance.

“Who the hell is that?” You ask, but Benny shrugs.

You get up to open the door and find the other Miller brother on the other side.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I had trouble finding parking. Did the fight start already?”

You look back at him confused.

“Uh… are you gonna let me in?” Will asks. “I brought goodies.” He shows the case of beer and grocery store bag in his hand with a party sized bag of chips peeking out.

“Sorry, I just thought you weren’t coming,” you tell him while letting him in.

“I texted Benny telling him plans changed last minute. Did he not get it?”

“Uh, I-I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.” You lead him into the living room where Benny almost looks surprised.

“Did you not tell her I’m coming?” Will asks his brother.

“Oh, sorry, forgot. I was uh, a little preoccupied,” he apologizes.

Will looks at both you and Benny suspiciously.

“It smells… interesting in here,” he comments, his eyebrows furrow with curiosity.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Will. Let me take that from you.” You quickly change the subject, taking the bag and beer out of his hands.

“Wait-” Will starts.

“Get comfy. I’ll bring you back a cold beer,” you tell him before whisking away.

You stick the beer in the fridge and when you remove the party sized tortillas to pour some into a bowl, you notice some unexpected items in the bag. You take them out for a closer inspection and your eyes widen at the bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Maybe he bought these before his initial plans got changed.

You shrug, throw them back into the bag and return to the living room with a bowl of chips, cold beer and the grocery bag of personal items. When you walk into the living room, the brothers turn their attention to you, eyeing you like they’re expecting something other than the beer and chips. You look back at them suspiciously as they’re both very laxed and spread out on the couch on each end, leaving a space for you in between. As you walk over and settle in next to them, their gaze follows you.

“Here Will, I think these are yours,” you hand him a beer and his bag of items.

He takes them from you as he smirks.

“Thanks. So,” Will turns his body towards you. “Benny tells me you’re curious about some DP action.”

You almost drop the bowl of chips in your hands. Will is usually very reserved and diplomatic so you’re a bit shocked at how straight forward he is right now. You glare at your best friend who shrugs helplessly.

“I had to tell him what he missed out on.”

You glower your eyes at Benny, but then put two and two together, your focus now bouncing between the two brothers and realize that no one is probably going to watch this fight tonight.

#benny miller #triple frontier #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x f! reader #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #bff to lovers

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gosmigenergy · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eight

( Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia )

SEX POLLEN/FUCK OR DIE / CHASTITY / SEXUAL COMPETITION

Summary: Coming home from work, all you want to do is collapse on the sofa with Frankie and snuggle but a mystery package makes your evening a little more interesting.

Day Eight of @absurdthirst's fabulous Kinktober prompt list!

Warnings: Mentions of food and drink, sex powder/pollen, arguing, Santiago and Frankie being dom if you squint, biting, oral - female receiving/male receiving, fingering, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), rough sex, choking, three-way, MMF, spit roasting, Santiago gets a little soft, no use of Y/N

(If I miss anything, please say and I’ll adjust)

Word Count: 4.5k

Notes: I originally planned to write a Leash and Collar story with Santiago on Day Six but never got the chance, that storyline however is alluded to here. Maybe I’ll write it someday.

You were ready to go home and collapse on the sofa after a long day at work. It was Friday night so Frankie would have order some form of take out, the fire would be on to take the edge off the chillier evenings and he probably would have stashed some snacks away from his daughter. All signs would point to a good night in, though your interest peaked when you opened the door to see Santiago also sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Santiago.”

Francisco was hidden behind the fridge door, “Drink?”

“Please.”

You pull off your coat and step further in, your cold nose immediately being alleviated by the warm orange glow filling the room.

“Your pizza’s getting cold.”

You scramble to get your shoes off, hurrying to make your way to the kitchen table, a cardboard box still steaming. Frankie always ordered your favourite, he knew each variation of your takeaway orders from the Chinese down the block to this, the pizza place just on the edge of town.

Sitting down, you open it up and sigh as the cheese stretches apart.

He places a beer in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’ve you been, Santi?”

He snorts, “See, Fish, that’s how you welcome a guest.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “Hey, I’m used to you coming and asking for a favour, hermano.”

“I’ve been fine, honey, just making sure my favourite pairing were ok.”

Actually, he was seeing if Frankie still had the hump about getting you a collar, everyone in the kink scene knows what a collar means and Santiago doesn’t necessarily own you. He’s put Francisco through too much shit to do something like it again.

You glance to Frankie, “It’s all been good.”

“You didn’t tell her how pissed you were, did you?”

“Of course, not. We’ve settled this, quit talking about it.”

You never questioned what they spoke about in their native language, it was clear they didn’t want you to know, it was also apparent that Frankie was annoyed and Santiago was fucking lapping it up, a smirk on his face.

“Now, now boys.”

You chew your food with a smile and the atmosphere calms.

They continue to ask about your day and all the usual tales about an ordinary suburban life before you can’t bring yourself to take another bite. As you tidy everything away, plating up a couple of slices for tomorrow, you catch an unopened parcel addressed to Francisco on the side.

“What’s this?”

Picking it up you see Benny’s handwriting.

“Why’s Benny sending you something?”

“I dunno, it’s Benny, he’s probably found something he thinks is funny.”

“Are you gonna open it?”

“No.”

You tilt your head, “Can I open it?”

Frankie shrugs, “Sure.”

Santiago has a glint in his eye, all he wants to do is take a jab at the fact he’s letting his girl open his mail. He chooses to keep his mouth shut because he doesn’t need Frankie throttling him this evening.

Popping the parcel on the table, you rummage for a knife to break the duck tape.

“Any ideas?”

“Nah, man, knowing Benny it’s some sort of odd sex thing. You sure you want her to open that?”

Frankie honestly couldn’t care less, Benny had sent him some shit in the past, including a fake letter with lacy underwear hanging from the seal. Benny thought he’d have a laugh however he used it as an excuse to move and never come face-to-face with that postal worker again. It was small, what harm could it do?

You press the blade along the sides first before gently cutting the box along the middle, then the next part, is a little bit of a blur.

Your soft touch meant the box didn’t quite do what it was intended to until your face was close. Whatever way Benny rigged it, the lid of the item inside exploded off like an overenthusiastic Jack in the Box, sending a smoke plume of pink.

You heard a chair scrape heftily on tiled floors, felt the pressure of hands grabbing your arms as your back met the countertop behind. Frankie spewed a variety of profanities, both in English and Spanish, as you choked and spluttered on whatever had come from that package.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You blinked, the pink still in your vision.

Frankie brought his hands to your cheeks, callous thumbs rubbing, his big brown eyes searching your face. There was a tingling sensation that spread down your face pleasantly, it wasn’t scary just unusual.

“Everything alright?”

“I - urgh,” you process your words. “What the fuck was that?”

To your surprise, Santiago was still sat down, brows knotted. Benny wouldn’t be this stupid would he?

He draws the box closer, pulling out two pieces of paper. The first reads ‘Have fun you two ;P’, and the second is a pamphlet in a pink equally matching the cloud that escaped.

“Shit.”

“What?” Frankie’s query came from deep within his throat, your pussy clenched.

“I’ve heard of this, it’s just hit the market.”

By the way he says market, you know he means a kinky one.

“Pope, I swear -“

“It’s a powdered aphrodisiac…”

Both you and Frankie look at him with confused expressions, he would never tell either of you how adorable you looked or maybe it’s because those tiny potent particles are in the air.

“And our girl just got a face full of it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh,” you say quietly.

That tingling in your face had travelled, you could feel it in every limbs, running through your veins, pooling in excitement. You wrap your fingers over the edge of the countertop to steady yourself, swallowing hard.

Frankie swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Oh no.”

You try to focus on your breathing, slowing down your increasing heartbeat but it’s seeming impossible, you can feel you legs turning to jelly. All you could think about was getting out of the space, containing your building ecstasy out of the vicinity of two men who, right now, were not burning with desire.

You take a couple of steps and Santiago is on his feet.

“Stop,” he comes forward.

“What, no, we’re not doing this,” Frankie blocks his path.

You try to make your escape as they start to argue.

“Are you serious, Fish? She’s got to get this out of her system.”

“There’s gotta be another option.”

“This isn’t the sort of thing that just wears off when she goes to sleep.”

You can’t remember their argumentative tones sounding this fucking good before. You were salivating at the thought of their heated bodies almost pressed up against each other, their hot breath teasing each other’s skin, muscle taut. The image wouldn’t leave your mind and you froze.

The noise that you released was both a cry of pain and pleasure.

Their voices hush before Frankie cautiously called your name.

Turning round, you pull at the edge of you skirt, your body vibrating. It was like you’d been called out at school, you couldn’t look either of them in the eye.

Santiago stood there as he does when things get serious, hands on hips, head hanging low. His eyes are dark.

“On the table.”

Frankie’s cock twitched, mouth hanging slightly agape and he looks back to you.

“Do as he says.”

He could be authoritative when he needed to be Frankie and it made your situation worse. You shuffle, the friction of your thin underwear threatening at your clit. Following their instruction, you pick yourself up onto smooth wooden top, feet dangling.

Santiago took the lead.

His touch sent electric shocks through your knees, pushing them wider. He lifts up your skirt and sees how dark your panties are, he hisses.

“You’re fucking soaked.”

Your lip quivered, “I’m scared.”

He picked up your chin, delivered you a soft smile.

“We’re going to help you, don’t worry.”

You laugh, built up nervous energy does that to you.

He waits for it to pass.

“Lay back for me.”

You continue to do as you’re told, your back meeting the table.

Santiago throws your skirt up and out of the way, fingertips grazing your thighs as he knelt at your feet. He trailed kisses up your leg, starting soft before growing heavier, his teeth nipping at your flesh before he soothed with his tongue.

Your breath was shaky.

“You’re going to be such a good girl for us, aren’t you honey?”

Frankie watches how you shiver, how your chest rises and falls as you steady yourself. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and the sensation goes straight to his hardening cock, he can’t look away as his friend brushing the tip of his nose over your mound.

You mewl as he presses his lips against that built up bundle of nerves and groans.

“Feel free to step in whenever you like.”

Santiago glances over his shoulder, lips pouted, wet with the residue of your pleasure.

You pick up your head drunkenly, wondering why Santiago had stopped but also to look at him, eyes glossed with held back tears. The corner of your lips curl with a feeble smile, you’re worried about him.

“Just concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Frankie comes over and crashes his lips onto yours, your head falling back with the force of his action. You gasp, only allowing him to slip in his tongue and roam your mouth, yours working in tandem. He fumbles to undo your shirt buttons before his hands claw at freshly exposed skin, his thumbs following the curvature of your breasts.

Santiago hooked your underwear to one side, the tip of his tongue licking along the creases of your outer lips with careful precision.

You moan into Frankie’s mouth and he gladly accepts.

He pulls your shirt further open, catching the elasticated straps of your bra and running along the edge to free your breasts from the cups. He grabs them in handfuls, breathing in every delicious noise that escaped you.

Santiago’s cock was straining against his jeans, the air he was breathing thick with the scent of your juices. Letting go of your hip, he carries on licking you whilst his free hand pulled at his belt, popping open the button and unzipping with a satisfied sigh. He was throbbing, his balls feeling heavier than usual, he was going to take you on this fucking table if it was the last thing he did on earth.

Frankie finally let you come up for air but it didn’t mean he stopped.

His kisses ran down your neck and along your décolletage, his patchy whiskers scratching. You ran your fingers through his brown curls, nails digging into the scalp, raising his face up. His Adam’s apple bobbed as the saliva built against his cheeks, the colour of his eyes no longer visible.

And Santiago?

Santiago didn’t like not having some attention.

“Fuck!”

You cry as he presses his tongue flat against your cunt and licks in one lengthily swoop, your legs clamping around his head.

“Santi.”

Your shoulders fall back as he takes another lick.

If looks could kill, Santiago knows he’d be dead, the glare Frankie delivered him was enough to do that but it only made him smirk behind you. He chose to ignore the other man, taking two fingers and slipping them into your folds.

You moan, back arching as the spark ignited.

Frankie’s brows furrowed, expression stern but Santiago had only brought you closer.

Returning to your neck, he locked himself tightly into the crook, sucking hard.

“Shit.”

He was going to leave a mark.

His teeth grazed your chest, he moved down the middle before his slopping nose nudged your one breast. He pursed his lips before taking your nipple in his mouth and biting gently.

You hissed through gritted teeth, your hand reaching for the back of his head once again.

You were fit to burst.

Santiago was ruthless, pumping in and out of your weeping cunt at an alarming pace whilst Frankie was playing and nuzzling at your breast like a wild animal. You couldn’t see yourself but you know their brown eyes were dark, hungry to soak up every piece of pleasure you had to offer.

You weren’t going to last much longer.

The fever had entered every fibre of your being, ran hot through your veins and vibrated every muscle, your stomach coiling. Your skin was tingling, the pink film over your eyes lifting, bursting into white spots. Your walls were fluttering around Santiago’s digits and he knew exactly what he had to do then.

He straightened up, the tip of his cock notching the edge of the table as he continued to stroke you. He watched in delight as you dug your nails further into Frankie’s scalp, your neck taut as you gasped for air.

His fingertips curled, pressing into that soft sweet spot, thumb closing on your clit.

You screamed, snapping your legs closed yet you still didn’t give him what he wanted and that only coaxes him more.

He draws circles with his thumb as you visibly shake.

“Santi, please,” you whine.

You want him to stop, the sensation overwhelming, the blood rushing to your ears. Your hips rise to try and alleviate the pressure but he’s having none of it.

“You know what I want.”

His voice was low, gravely.

You sob. You were rarely a brat however you knew if you let yourself go, the flood gates would open and with the powder in your system, you had no idea of the outcome. But all three of you knew it had to happen eventually.

“Honey,” Santiago grazed his fingertips over your stomach, “Cum for me.”

He spread his hand and pushed you flat to the table, digging his fingers deep into that spongy spot and you unravelled. Your juices gushed, coating his hand as he removed it to rub over your clit and help you ride out your orgasm.

This is the first time Frankie has seen you squirt.

He finds himself unable to concentrate as he separates from your chest and watches your arousal soaks the kitchen floor.

“Fuuuck, querida.”

The comedown sent shocks through your body, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you gasp for air.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

He kissed your lips gently and that’s all it took for the powder to take effect yet again. You deepen the kiss, placing both hands on his patchy jawline to keep him there.

Santiago unzips his top before desperately pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. The sweat already clung to his chest, pre cum already leaking from his cock as he shred his trousers too. Tucking his hands underneath your hips, he hauled you closer to him in one motion, ripping you from Frankie.

He balanced your lower half on the edge of the table.

“Wouldn’t you prefer the bedroom?”

“I need you here…”

He shook his head, focusing on playing with your clit against the radiating tip of his cock. It sent a shiver down your spine, a ragged breath falling from his lips as he stroked your folds. Your hands gripped the wood for dear life, you were in trouble.

“Now.”

And he pushed himself deep in one vigorous snap of the hips.

Santiago groaned, his chest rumbling against you as he brought your body to his.

“Still so tight,” he slurred to Frankie.

“Even after that? You’re losing your touch.”

You have time to catch your breath, walls pulsating around him.

“Eh, I’ll make sure you eat your words later.”

“We all know you’ll be the one with a dick in your mouth.”

Santiago squinted at Frankie to gage whether he was lying through his teeth except the man kept a straight face. Santiago had seen Frankie’s cock in the showers during their years in the military, he knew he’d be a decent size when he was hard, he’d gladly take him.

Ok, now this conversation was taking too long. You groan, “Please, hurry up and fuck me.”

The boys share a laugh.

Neither of them were used to you being like this. Sure, you always wanted sex when it came to it but this was desperate and needy and that mouth of yours, Santiago couldn’t get over it. You were normally so pliant and good for him that he may have to ensure he puts your mouth to good use later.

He swats your ass, sending a shockwave that bucks your hips.

“Been as you asked so politely.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into hot flesh and the thought of your trouble got worse, you were in real fucking trouble now.

Santiago had always fitted in you, his length perfect, his girth enough to stretch you but pleasurable and with the powder, you were riding high. He wasn’t like his usual, meticulous self, he had lost as much sense as you.

It was fast and rough, his cock gliding through your slick.

Everything within you burned, the sounds filling the room, the grunts of Santiago and the moans of you a musical unison.

Frankie couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing, every detail crystal clear like he was watching a film against a cinema screen. How every thrust of Santiago’s hips sent a ripple through you muscles, boobs bouncing, your knuckles turning white as you held on, your expression scrunched as he pushed you closer to your next release.

Then there was his cock, hard and constricted against his jeans, he had to get involved before he blew his load.

He scrambled to get his clothes off, the heat now radiating from him.

He was never a selfish lover so he found it surprising that how Santiago dominated you was a bit of a turn on. Maybe that’s why you agreed to their offer when the four of you met that evening, each one of them were different and you liked every single one of them for just that reason.

Though the blood was pumping quickly through his veins, Frankie approached the table cautiously.

Santiago caught him out of the corner of his eye and slowed, he needed to because he knew he was close.

Frankie took your chin, soothed you as he brushed his palm across your face, a thumb rubbing your cheek bone. Your expression relaxed, head falling to the side so you could drunkenly look at him and he smiled.

“Think you can handle me too?”

His thumb crept to you mouth and Santiago stopped, drawing circles on your thighs, cock steady inside you. He waited to see if you’d answer, he knew when you got overwhelmed or had a face full of aphrodisiac powder, your brain would get foggy.

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, only enough for Frankie to hear, he leans down and delivers the lightest of kisses. You chase for him yet he pulled back, wrapping his other hand around his cock and bringing it to your lips. Much like how Santiago’s looked, the tip was flaming bright, the veins that ran his length bulging at the work of the powder.

Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip before you lick the precum off his tip, he hisses at the touch. Flitting your eyes to his face to check he’s ok, you carry on, taking the end into your mouth and circling the ridge where his skin had pulled back.

The shiver travels through him, a strangled moan that has Santiago’s cock twitching.

“Did you teach her that?”

Frankie laughed cracking under the pressure of two sets of eyes on him.

“No, she does that all by herself.”

“Fuck, how is she so good?”

“I wish I knew.”

Santiago really did because if that was just natural, he was jealous.

You circled Frankie’s tip once more before loosening your jaw and took his length in your mouth, the edge of your nose tickling at his matching brown curls at the base.

Santiago watched you pull back and match the rhythm with his hips.

As you guided yourself back down, Santiago pushed himself back in, your moan travelling along Frankie’s cock. He wrapped his hand the back of your head, fisting your hair as he helped you take what you could, your walls flutter.

“You two are gonna be the death of me.”

You and Santiago shared a look, Frankie unaware as his eyes were screwed shut.

He picked up the speed as you did you best to keep up, humming as your lips tightened around Frankie who steady you more. Santiago took both your ankles and placed them over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he brought his weight down on you. He couldn’t keep it up much longer and if he was going, he was taking you both with him.

His next thrust hits deep.

The notion knocked the wind out of you, Frankie’s cock falling out of your mouth as you came for air.

Santiago din’t care, the way your cunt reacted to him was so intoxicated and he wanted that over and over until he filled you. Frankie couldn’t blame him either, he needed you to take him more so he could cum down that throat of yours.

They both knew you had it in you but right now, the room almost spinning as the fiery sensation entered every bone.

Frankie guided his cock back to your mouth, pushing gently at the back of your head.

Santiago was relentless, his balls shrinking as they seemed to overfill. His legs were cramping, his knees protesting yet he couldn’t stop. His grunts were now animalistic in nature, the chase for his release timeless.

You couldn’t tell how long the three of you were in that position, could only tell when they were both close and beginning to falter.

Frankie’s fingertips came to your stomach with a featherlight touch and you open your eyes to see his, irises so blown they were black. He pawed at your breast, squeezing a puffy nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your cunt holding closer to Santiago’s cock.

“We’re not gonna last much longer,” Frankie says.

You hum a response before he brings you down his cock and presses you into his belly, your throat constricts and he slides you back. He relaxes his hand on your breast and draws his hand up you décolletage, resting it at the bottom of your neck.

This is his tell.

He pumps you up and down his cock, noting the stutter in Santiago’s hips.

“Ready?”

Frankie puts his hand around your neck and applies light pressure before forcing your head down to the base of his cock. Every part of your body becomes tense, your walls trapping Santiago’s cock deep within you.

“Shit,” he chokes.

He comes thick and fast, his chin falling to his chest as he holds your hips up, his seed spilling messily out of you folds.

You whimper, your legs shaking as your orgasm washes over you.

Frankie felt your back beginning to lift from the table and he knows he’s got a fleeting moment to notch himself a little further. He squeezes your neck more, brings you closer and you feel him at the back of your throat. That immediate muscle spasm causes his cock to twitch and you suck as he groans.

The salty tang fills your mouth, Frankie’s grip loosening against the back of your head.

You slide back, milking his cock as much as you can before you removed him from your lips with an accompanying pop, a string of your saliva trailing.

He snapped to his senses and cupped your face in his hands, “I’m sorry, querida, are you ok?”

You look up at him with swollen lips and glossy doe eyes, fluttering your lashes, dumbfounded.

Santiago stroked your ankles then pulled himself out of you, the cum pooling onto the table. You body shudders from the lose and he presses a smile to your skin before lowering your legs to the table.

“I’ll get you some water.”

He knew you were cock drunk.

“Querida?”

Frankie brushed his nose to yours, teased the hair that clung to your forehead.

It was like you were under water, their voices were muffled and the scenery was swirling, light brighter from the refraction.

“I’m ok,” you mouth was drying out.

He kissed you softly, laying you back against the cooling wood.

“There’s some bottles out in the garage.”

Once you all made it to the bedroom, you were there for the night so Frankie saw it best to stock up. He took the full glass from Santiago, who continued to saunter around the house nude, his soft cock already beginning to harden.

“Are you serious, what is up with you?” Frankie gestured.

“Fuck you.”

He knew the other man would let him too.

Returning to you, Frankie helped ease you from the table, getting you to sit up straight. You took the water from him and chugged it down, he immediately got you another one.

Santiago came back into your view.

“Can we go somewhere a little more comfy?”

“Of course, honey,” he kissed your temple.

Your cunt clenched around nothing. Though you were loving the attention Frankie and Santiago were paying you, you prayed it would end soon just for your pussy's sake.

“D’you want me to carry you?”

Frankie’s fingertips grazed your hip, gently coaxing you to come with him. Your eyes flit down to his cock, his desire apparent, and he looks away sheepishly. A smile drew across your face as you entwined your fingers into his.

“If you don’t mind.”

Sure, the night wasn’t the quiet night in you expected but thank god Frankie and Santiago were there to alleviate you.

—

“Can’t sleep?”

Santiago sat in the glow of the television, volume low.

You shake your head.

He smiled, “Apparently you might be the only person who’s ever had a face full of Aphrodite’s Powder.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?”

He hummed in response.

You hadn’t moved from the nook in the hallway, your focus on playing with the sleeve of Frankie’s flannel shirt you wore, legs fidgety.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Frankie’s out cold and I’m… still itchy.”

Santiago put his phone down and beckoned for you to go over. You scuttle, legs aching and settle into his lap. He coils an arm around your frame, pressing a shoulder to his, your head resting against his temple. With his other hand, he drops two fingers to your clit and draws careful circles.

“I don’t have the energy to fuck you.”

“I know,” you kiss his salt and pepper hairline, “this will do just fine.”

Everything about the evening became a blur, they pushed you through one orgasm then another then another before you’re sure you blacked out. You wake up to the stillness of the house, the calm of the morning sun breaking through the kitchen window. The television had switched off on it’s own accord and Santiago was sleeping softly, his hand resting between your thighs.

Yes, this will do just fine, you thought, nestling back under his jaw.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie catfish morales #santiago garcia #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #kinktober

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oftenwantedafton · 5 months

Text

Night Shift - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Mike Schmidt x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Explicit

Warning for sexual content, dub con, bisexual characters

Also available on AO3

Seated in the quiet dark of Mike Schmidt’s sedan outside of your apartment, you can still feel Steve Raglan.

The scent of him clings to you and your boyfriend’s bodies. You can taste yourself because he’d placed that flavor there with his incessant tongue and ardent fingers.

Your hands are balled into fists on your lap to conceal the violent tremor of desire that still wracks through you. You feel like an addict that’s gotten another hit, finding it dangerously insufficient; your brain chemistry already altered so you need a higher dosage of depravity.

“Just tell me one thing.”

You glance at the young man seated beside you, resisting the urge to seize his mouth and search for more of the older man’s essence that he’s left behind.

“We’re doing this because we have to, right? For Abby?”

“Of course.” The lie slips between you, a fragile bit of sound.

***

Another evening, you’ve burned dinner in your distraction and Mike waves your apologies away, ordering pizza and rummaging through a stack of DVD’s while you watch his sister color, selecting a bright shade of yellow to fill in the anthropomorphic rabbit she’s just drawn.

“Who’s that?”

Abby shrugs, her soft brown curls swinging slightly with the movement. “I don’t know his name. My friends tell me about him. He’s really nice. He likes pizza, too.”

You smile, remembering Mike had mentioned his sibling’s imaginary friends previously.

“He does look friendly. I like his purple bow tie.”

The young girl finishes coloring in the last of the rabbit’s long limbs and slides the picture across the kitchen table to you.

“You can have it if you want. I have plenty more.”

“Thanks, Abby. I’m going to put this on the fridge when I get home.”

“Abs, we need to clear the table,” Mike calls over his shoulder as he moves to answer the doorbell.

You help the child slot the tubes of paper wrapped wax back inside their container while she unwinds some paper towels from their spool.

“Not too much. Save some for another day,” Mike reprimands gently, setting the pizza box on the counter. He rests a hand on the small of your back as you reach for a stack of plates in the cabinet, all three pieces of dinnerware mismatched, orphans from various sets. “You’re so good with her,” he murmurs.

“She’s a great kid.”

He presses his lips against your hair in a gentle kiss.

“Ew, gross.”

You smile, moving to lift the lid of the corrugated cardboard box and challenge Abby to select her first slice on the count of three, laughing when she chooses the largest piece, dripping bits of cheese and toppings before her selection reaches the plate.

By the time the comedy movie Mike’s selected reaches the halfway point, Abby loses interest and retreats to her room, leaving the two of you alone. He draws small circles with his thumb on your shoulder, cradling you against him. He lifts the opposite wrist and curses when he sees the sequence of numbers on the digital display.

“I’ve got to get ready for work soon.”

“It’s ok.” You straighten up in your seat. “This was fun.”

“I appreciate you staying the night to babysit. I don’t know what happened to Max. She won’t answer the phone,” he says, referring to the young woman that usually watches his sister when he’s away.

“It’s no problem, really.”

“You’re the best.” He kisses your forehead.

“You can kiss me on the lips you know. I’m okay,” you assure him. Ever since the night at the movie theater, Mike had seemed to be reluctant to do so.

“Yeah, I…I’m trying. I don’t want everything tainted by Raglan.”

You’d been very purposefully keeping yourself distracted from thinking about Steve, but here he was, intruding into your lives again with just the mere mention of his name.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s so fucked up.” He scrubs at his hair, mussing the chocolate curls. “I should never have had you come to work with me. All of this is my fault.”

“Hey. I don’t blame you for anything, okay?” You reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“The shit he makes us do…”

You firmly resolve not to think about it. “We’re going to get through this.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He rests his forehead on yours, hesitating before his lips tentatively brush against your mouth in a chaste gesture of affection. You respond with a firmer one of your own, hearing his inhale of desire.

“Ugh, you’re doing that again?”

You both jump, startled to see Abby standing in the doorway leading to the living room. Mike frowns, releasing you and standing up.

“I’m going to go get ready. You need to go brush your teeth,” he reminds his sibling as he walks past her.

“I’ll do it in a minute.” She bounces on the vacated seat next to you. “You really like my brother, huh?”

“I do.” You nod, lifting the remote and aiming it at the television set, the lit screen extinguished.

“He likes you a lot. I can tell.”

“You think so?” You comb your fingers through her curls affectionately.

“Mmm-hmm. My friends told me.”

You blink, surprised. “They did?”

“Yeah. They said the yellow rabbit likes you, too.”

Frowning, your hand stills. “I don’t understand. I’ve never seen him before you drew me the picture tonight.”

She shrugs. “That’s what they said. I’m gonna go brush my teeth now.” She slides off the couch, leaving you to ponder the strange conversation.

It’s just her imagination, you think. Perfectly normal for someone her age.

Mike reappears, shrugging into an oversized ink colored vest with a bright SECURITY logo decorating the right shoulder.

“I just got her tucked in. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make us breakfast. Probably safer for everyone, you know?”

“Hey! I can cook. That was an accident.” You slap his arm playfully.

“Sure. I’ve gotta get going.” He wraps his arms around you, his mouth more confident on yours this time.

“Have a good shift. Be careful,” you add, thinking of the many staring eyes of the cameras mounted throughout the abandoned pizzeria, their gaze reflected back to the cramped security office with its clusters of monitors that keep their dark secrets.

You tidy up the kitchen before bed, your fingers hesitating over the crayon illustration Abby had created for you earlier.

The yellow rabbit likes you, too.

***

Mike comes home the next morning looking exhausted, carrying a box of donuts and a tray with a pair of paper cups.

You fold your arms, scowling. “I thought you were making breakfast. That’s cheating.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not up for cooking today. Another day for sure.” He sets everything down on the counter.

“I’m only teasing. How bad was it?”

He shrugs, yawning. “It was okay. Abs up yet?”

“Yes she’s dressed, I just helped her with her hair.”

“Thanks, babe.” He turns his face, his voice louder as he calls for his sister. “Abby! We’ve got to leave in twenty minutes!” He removes a gallon of orange juice from the refrigerator, shaking it before he pulls the top off and fills a glass for his sibling.

“I could take her to school. I’m sure you want to crash.”

“Nah, it’s okay. You do too much as it is. Abs! Donuts!”

His sister seems to materialize out of thin air, bounding into the kitchen.

“Yeah I thought that would get your attention.”

“Did you get sprinkles?”

“Have a look.”

She tears the sticker sealing the box shut and lifts the lid, squealing in delight and grabbing a glazed donut drizzled in pink icing and covered in colored confetti sugar strands.

“Hot chocolate okay?” He hands you one of the cups and you nod gratefully.

“That’s perfect, thank you.” You remove the lid and blow on the steaming liquid, studying the array of pastries before selecting one dipped in chocolate.

Abby’s donut disappears alarmingly fast and she takes a few sips of her juice, declaring she’s ready to leave.

“She’s going to have a sugar rush now. Her poor teacher,” Mike mumbles, snatching his keys off the counter. “I’ll be back soon.”

You watch the pair leave, sipping on the warm beverage for a few minutes before deciding to get started on cleaning.

You’d noticed last night that Mike had more dirty clothes on the floor in the bedroom again; using a laundry hamper just didn’t seem to be a priority for him. You shake your head in mock disgust, collecting the random scattered garments, adding them one by one to a growing pile in the basket, pausing when you notice something shoved under the bed, one corner of a dress shirt barely sticking out. Mike had probably kicked it by mistake in his hurry to get ready, you figure, snatching at the fabric, about to toss it into the bin when you freeze.

It’s the shirt he had worn on your date at the movie theater.

It positively reeks of Raglan’s cologne and you inhale sharply, your pussy instantly throbbing. You’d been doing so well barricading the older man from your thoughts, enjoying the domestic moments with your boyfriend, but here he was tearing back through that blockade like it was made of tissue paper.

There’s a suspicious stain near the hem of the charcoal button front shirt and you hate that no matter which man the jizz belongs to, you find it horribly erotic.

Your hand lifts the shirt to your lips, Steve’s scent heaviest by the collar, and it’s all you can do to refrain from shoving your hand inside your panties right then and there.

“Hey babe, I’m back! Where’d you—” Mike is about to enter the room when he jerks to a halt just outside the doorway, staring at you rapturously inhaling his shirt, the words dying on his lips.

The security guard’s mouth parts, his breathing suddenly harsh, shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession as his lungs struggle to find more air.

He crosses the room faster than you’d thought possible given his short stature, fingers curling over the shirt but not tugging, keeping the fabric trapped between you as he pushes you against the wall.

The renewed handling of the material releases more of the career counselor’s scent into the air around the pair of you, cruelly teasing you, challenging you to imagine his presence beside you. Mike grabs your free hand and presses it to his crotch and fuck, he’s so hard already, straining against his fly. You’ve never seen him aggressive like this, so out of control, pupils blown with desire, the rough chafe of the hair lining his jaw scraping you when his mouth finds your throat, the shirt trapped just beneath, as if he’s kissing both you and Steve at the same time.

The phone rings, startling both of you. Mike jerks back, looking surprised to find himself in this situation, struggling to regain his composure, answering the phone somewhat breathlessly while you let the shirt drop back to the floor, your heart thudding in your chest, an echoing heartbeat in the crease between your thighs.

“Hello? What? No, I was…out running.” He sinks onto the bed. “What? No, I’m sure I locked the doors. Yes, the gate too. Fuck.” He drags a hand through his hair.

“Mike, who is it? What happened?” You sit beside him.

He mouths the name Steve and your stomach flutters.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll come down right now.” He slots the phone back on the receiver and turns to face you. “Someone broke into Freddy’s. They trashed it.”

“What?!” You gasp, covering your mouth.

“The owner wants to report it to the police. Raglan’s trying to talk him out of it.”

He stares at you, the implication of what that meant very transparent.

“We have to go.”

He drags a hand against his thigh nervously, as if just touching the phone that he’d used to communicate with the older man had sullied him.

“There’s never going to be an end to this at this rate. He’s just going to keep blackmailing us.”

“Maybe he made it up? What if it’s just a trick to get us to go there?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s legit. He sounded furious. And I swear I locked up. I know I’m tired but I wouldn’t have forgotten that.”

“I believe you.”

He sighs shakily. “I wish I’d never met him. You have no idea how much I regret going to that office.”

“I know,” you say, your eyes finding the crumpled dress shirt on the floor and you wonder if he truly regrets it as much as he says.

***

From the outside of the building, you don’t see any destruction that’s immediately obvious.

The interior tells a far different story.

Mike holds out an arm to bar your path, cautioning you about the broken glass littering the floor. The sunlight that struggles to filter through the glass front doors falls on scattered tokens from the tipped over change machines, making the gold coins glint on the confetti printed carpet.

“Christ,” the security guard swears, head swiveling to assess the damage. The cases for the pinball machines are shattered, the prize counter reduced to pulverized shards of glass. Chairs are knocked down and tables overturned, the long forgotten salt and pepper shakers and laminated menus now decorating the dining room floor.

The door slams behind you and you turn to see Steve standing there, crossing the room swiftly with several long legged strides, ignoring the glass that crunches beneath his feet.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He tosses the greeting to you without so much as glancing at you, his pale eyes glaring at the man standing beside you. “Look at this mess.”

“I promise I locked the doors,” he protests.

“Well they clearly found another way in. And I doubt they broke inside during broad daylight. So what were you doing this time instead of watching the monitors?”

“I swear I was watching. I didn’t see anything.”

“The damage in this room alone is going to cost a lot to repair. There are a lot of unique items that are vintage. Irreplaceable.” He gestures towards the destruction and chaos.

Mike gulps. “I’m sure we could work something out. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s even been using this stuff. It’s just sitting here collecting dust…”

Raglan takes a threatening step towards Mike, each word he issues clipped, his ire barely held in check. “This is someone’s personal property. It doesn’t belong to you. It’s not up to you to decide its value. You’re being paid to prevent things like this from happening.”

“I’m sorry,” your boyfriend says helplessly.

“That apology doesn’t sound very sincere, Mike. I think we’d better see how bad the damage is elsewhere.” He brushes past you, shoving at the Employees Only door.

You trail after him, Mike’s hand clammy and cold in yours as he escorts you through the same passage illuminated by the emergency lights.

The career counselor veers to the right, bringing you into a large kitchen area. A fan built into the wall across from you turns lazily, making a soft whirring noise. There are pans and dishes and pizza boxes scattered everywhere, steel shelving knocked to the black and white checkered linoleum flooring. Steve kicks at a stray pot with disgust. “Absolutely ruined.”

“I’ll clean it all up,” Mike says hurriedly.

“Of course you will. That’s part of your job description after all. You’re supposed to be keeping the place tidy. Which still doesn’t cancel out the damages or count as an apology, might I add.” He removes his glasses, setting them down on a free space amid the clutter on the counter. “Come here, beautiful.”

“I’ll help him,” you blurt out.

“No. This is his mistake. He’s got to learn his lesson. Actions have consequences. Come here,” he says again, more firmly this time, and you feel your feet moving, unable to resist the command. “Have you missed me, honey?” he murmurs, wrapping one arm around your waist and dragging you against him. He’s always so warm, borderline feverish beneath his clothing; you can feel it sizzling just beneath the surface.

Mike glowers but begins picking things up when Steve’s eyes snap back to him warningly.

The older man tucks his fingers underneath your chin and lifts your face up. Without the glasses he looks so different, those wide eyes even more intimidating without the lenses to shield them. You could drown in those pools of ice.

His mouth covers yours and your hand reflexively clasps the back of his neck. For a moment you forget about Mike completely, forget there is anything in the world other than the hungry lips moving against yours, the muscle thrust between them stroking your tongue, the arousal that had begun earlier reignited with a fury.

“You did miss me,” he whispers when you part for air, and you don’t deny it. “I didn’t say you could stop,” his voice hardens, directed at your boyfriend.

Mike slams a tray further down on the steel counter and Steve abruptly releases you, lunging for him instead. His fingers grab a fistful of the shorter man’s shirt, shoving him against the hard surface, sending more cookware scattering. “What’s the matter, Mike? Upset your girlfriend is getting some action? Or maybe you’re jealous that you’re not getting any of that attention. You’ve had a hard on ever since I walked into the restaurant.”

“Fuck you.” He spits, saliva landing on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

You gasp, thinking Raglan will strike your boyfriend for sure, the sound evolving to something needier when you see Steve drag his fingers through the fluid, grinning darkly before he clutches a fistful of brown curls and jerks Mike’s head back. He licks his way inside his mouth and you hear the younger man moan.

“Wouldn’t you just love to?” Steve muses, reaching for the fly of Mike’s work pants.

Another groan escapes when those deft fingers work their way inside the younger man’s boxers, stroking Mike’s leaking cock briefly before he releases him, stepping back.

“Let’s clear a space for your girlfriend. Over here, sweetheart.” You move forward as the career counselor sweeps an arm over the steel surface, sending the remaining items to the floor with a loud clatter. He unfastens your jeans and shoves them down at the same time as your panties, then lifts you up so you’re seated on the edge of the counter, dragging the rest of your clothing free.

“This too,” he murmurs by your ear, tugging on the hem of your shirt, indicating for you to pull it over your head, the bra soon following. You’re completely nude now, exposed before Steve’s ravenous gaze, shivering from the metallic surface touching your skin and the anticipation of the older man’s next move.

“Lay back, honey.” You lower your torso, fingers clutching the edges of the counter for balance, Raglan’s broad hand snaking around to support the movement so you land gently. He drags a calloused hand over one breast, trailing down to your navel, stroking small circles around the divoted space before he bends to kiss you, his mouth following all the places his hand had just been.

He hovers just above your mound, his breath tickling your skin before he gently wedges a hand between your clamped thighs, prying them apart, the tensed limbs falling slack. He hisses appreciatively, kneels down and slides his tongue between your lips in a brief teasing lick and your back arches off the counter.

“You’re completely soaked, sweetheart. You’ve been looking forward to this, haven’t you?” He plants a kiss on the inside of one thigh, turning his face slightly to address the man standing behind him. “Are you going to just stand and watch, or are you going to help your girlfriend out? Not that I’d mind keeping you all to myself.” His lips hum by the fork of your legs and you shiver, squirming restlessly, eager for more contact.

Mike’s face appears and you crane your neck in time to see him flick his tongue over your clit.

Your head snaps back and you whimper, the sound overly loud in the spacious kitchen. You feel a finger at your entrance and instantly recognize it as Steve’s, the long digit slipping inside and curling expertly, tearing another sound of pleasure from you.

“I don’t know how you stand having this around you all the time, Mike. My face would be permanently buried between these thighs,” the career counselor mutters, working the finger in and out while your boyfriend’s tongue strokes over your pussy.

You could cum right then, but you refuse to let yourself get off so easily, wanting to prolong the feeling. A second finger joins the first, scissoring within your tunnel, Mike’s mouth sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves swollen and erect against his tongue.

You hear your boyfriend moan and think Steve must be touching him again with his free hand. His head lifts, smeared with your juices, the hand that had been curled supportively around one thigh abandoning you in favor of winding Raglan’s tie around his fist and dragging his mouth to his. The fingers working inside of you move more insistently, bringing you closer to release. The sight of the two men kissing so heatedly sends you careening over the edge, your hips rocking wildly against the older man’s hand.

Steve breaks the kiss so he can reward your dripping cunt with one instead. “You’re so fucking delicious. Such a good girl.” The praise sends a spear of warmth through you.

He stands up, using the table for balance, immediately reaching once more for Mike’s cock, squeezing the base. “Not yet,” he cautions, his other hand jerking the younger man’s face up. “You don’t get to cum just yet.” His next kiss is rough, sucking loudly, teeth pulling Mike’s bottom lip until they release the flesh with a loud pop. He glances at your form still lying on the edge of the counter. “You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

You can see Mike’s jaw tighten, a blend of anger and frustration. “No,” he says quietly.

“Didn’t think so. Well, let’s change that, shall we?” He pushes Mike between your legs, one hand still firmly clenching the base of his cock, holding him just shy of your opening. Your boyfriend’s hands clutch your hips as Steve moves to the side and guides him forward, helping him fuck into you.

Mike grunts at the feeling of your wet pussy greeting him, hips automatically snapping forward to bury himself deeper inside, halted by the frustrating barrier Steve’s hand provides.

“Gently, Mike. She’s still recovering. Feels like heaven though, doesn’t it?” He reaches for your breast, fondling the nipple. Every time your boyfriend moves it brings Raglan’s hand with it, the contact between the three of you heightened. You thread your fingers through those still caressing your breast, your eyes meeting his.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Raglan’s voice is so tender, so at odds with the hard snap of Mike’s pelvis against your body, his pace quickening. You don’t even know how to phrase it; if the vocabulary for it has been invented yet. Your entire body feels magma hot, senseless liquid around Mike’s impatiently driving prick. Steven lifts your fingers to his face and kisses the inside of your wrist, his tongue tracing circles along your pulse point and you feel yourself shatter. He releases his hold of Mike’s cock and thrusts the fingers between the younger man’s lips, letting him lap at the taste of both of you.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Mike announces, his movements more frantic now that he has better access, your still spasming canal massaging him, wringing out his orgasm.

Steve shoves the younger man out of the way, kneeling down, his mouth back at your entrance, sucking and licking Mike’s cum back out of you.

You watch him bring that mouthful back to its owner, jerking his head back roughly and spearing his mouth open, seed spilling back onto Mike’s tongue. He moans when your boyfriend tears at the zipper of his trousers, shoving his fingers over his dripping cock, sending the older man over the edge.

***

“You can start cleaning up tonight,” Steve says, the first words spoken since the three of you had hastily cleaned up in the restroom before exiting the building. He tugs on the handle of the driver’s side door, his gaze alternating between Mike and then you.

“You’re going to convince the owner not to file a police report, right?”

The career counselor’s lips twitch slightly as he reaches for the glasses tucked into his shirt pocket. “Sure, sweetheart.” His eyes flick back to the security guard. “You should go home and get some sleep. You have a long, busy night ahead of you.”

Mike nods, sliding behind the wheel and slamming the door. You hesitate, fingers running absently over a spot of rust on the frame of your boyfriend’s sedan, unable to look away from the prison of Raglan’s stare.

The small, secret smile returns, making something flutter inside of you.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader

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freya-fallen · 26 days

Text

Little Dove 3/?

Part 1 Part 4

TWs for this part: smoking, manipulation, grooming

Dabi knows what he's doing is wrong. He's not blind to his own backwards morality. In fact, he revels in it. He's murdered without a second thought, for no more than a flash of annoyance. He's a consummate monster.

But this… the plans shaping up for Hawks’ sweet little sister are truly demented. They're sick, twisted, the sort of evil that leaves a stain and never washes out. He can't wait to share what the hero will do. No doubt, Hawks will try to defend himself. Endeavor will find out what his lost son made the hero do, and he will be filled with disgust for both his son and his second.

It's all due to an accident of fate. Hawks losing his phone was the best thing to happen to Dabi. Thanks to the idiot’s affectionate contact name for his sister, Dabi was going to trap the two birds in a cage of his own twisted design.

You and Dabi text every day after that. He’s funny in a dark, sardonic sort of way, but you suppose that’s normal for someone in his line of work. He convinces you to meet up the following weekend. You’re nervous to meet him again.

You’re also worried about Keigo finding out, but your brother is absent in the few days leading up to your “date.” You don’t think it can properly be called that because it’s not as if he likes you, right? He’s just being nice to his peer’s little sister who never gets out.

Either way, you’re super excited. You spend entirely too much time picking an outfit, lamenting your lack of girlfriends to ask for advice. Last time he saw you, you looked like a kid. You were in your school uniform. This time, you want him to see you looking more adult.

Eventually you settle on a black t-shirt and jeans, both of which hug you flatteringly. You wear black shoes good for walking just in case, and even put on what you consider an artful application of makeup. You think you look much more mature like this, though the butterflies in your stomach belie your cool facade.

Soon enough, you trek to the cafe where you agreed to meet. Dabi is already sitting back in one of the outdoor seats. He nods in acknowledgement and his eyes flick over you; you flush at his clear appraisal, and wish you could figure out what he’s thinking.

“C’mon,” he says, rising to throw an arm around your shoulders.

He’s so warm and the scents of smoke and tobacco waft from him, as well as something that else that reminds you of fiery nights, but you can’t quite pick out why. It doesn’t matter; the smell isn’t necessarily bad.

“Where are we going?”

He steers you toward an alley and a writhing mass of darkness appears. “This is a friend’s quirk. It’s safe,” he assures you as you step through. You cling to him through the darkness and he squeezes you close.

When you come out the other side, you’re in a small apartment. It must be his place. There’s a futon, a mini fridge, a sink, what you guess is the lavatory, but the focus is a decent sized flat screen hooked up to a few different consoles. A cardboard box is filled with folded clothes, but that’s the extent of the furniture. It’s like he just moved in.

“I figured we should hang and get to know each other,” Dabi says by way of explanation. He sprawls on the futon and gestures for you to join him, turns on the television, and begins scrolling through apps via one of the consoles. “Do you game?”

You shift from foot to foot before finally taking a seat on the edge of the futon. “A little.” Most of the games in the apartment were chosen by Keigo and you’re not big on those.

He nods. “What d’ya like to watch? I’ll put something on.”

“I don’t know, I watch pretty much anything.”

His head rolls toward you and he deadpans, “I’ll put on some porn.” Your expression must be comical because he bursts out laughing. “Relax, I’m not trying to break you.” He settles on Netflix and sticks on some Korean show about zombies. “This one’s pretty good.”

You nod, actually familiar with the show. “Oh yeah, I like this show. It gets pretty dark though.”

You watch and slowly become more comfortable, leaning back on a pillow propped against the wall. You’ve almost forgotten to be awkward by the time you see fumbling out of the corner of your eye and you glance toward its source.

Dabi has taken down his mark and sports a cigarette between his lips. The bottom one is charred, scarred all the way down into his t-shirt. He lifts a brow at you, then flicks up a finger. A blue flame dances atop it. He uses that to light the cigarette. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“You have a fire quirk?” It’s about the dumbest thing you can say, but he nods.

“Yep. And you can thank that for all these fuckin’ scars. Pretty, huh?”

The thing is, if it weren’t for the scars, you’d think Dabi is pretty. Even with them, he has a rough, edgy look to him that probably pulls women anyway.

You shrug. “I like all your piercings.”

“Yeah?” He tugs your ear lobe with the hand not holding the cigarette and you giggle. “You should get some yourself. I bet you’d look pretty hot.”

“Keigo would flip.” The words are out before you can think twice. Your hand slaps over your mouth, eyes wide.

Dabi watches you keenly with those sharp blue eyes of his. “Keigo, huh? Don’t worry, Dove, I won’t tell his secret identity.”

“Thanks.”

“As far as what he likes… well, I bet he wouldn’t like me flirting with his little sister either, but here we are.”

You fall still, unsure you heard him correctly. “You’re flirting with me?”

Dabi laughs again. “Sure am. You’re too damn cute. Why, did you think I asked you to hang just to be nice?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, suddenly shy under his gaze.

Dabi’s tongue skirts his lips and he leans in close. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, but it doesn’t both you. “Sweetheart, you have been running through my mind like a goddamn train since the second I saw you.” He pulls you against him and kisses the top of your head. “You okay with that?”

You smile and speak through the fluttering pulse in your throat. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

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#darkfic #yandere #mha #hawks #my hero academia #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #smut #dabi is a creepy #possible dabihawks

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yxami · 1 year

Text

Robot yandere? NSFW stuff at the end, I hope I’m getting better at writing it lol and I made him more yandere at the end cuz he didn’t rlly seem like it throughout the story.

Gender not specified so you can imagine it anyway you want.

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You sighed seeing your house looking gloomy with dust and dirt. You didn’t have the time to clean when you got home, barely had any motivation to feed yourself as well. When you got home from work, you’d shower and then immediately fell asleep.

You were scrolling on your computer on your day off and saw a pop up ad.

“Need a person to pleasure you and clean around the house? Buy a V.4.0 Android SCR! Not only does the robot help around the house, it does the best to keep you happy too! Price: 599.99 NOW 449.99!! Buy now before the deal runs out!”

“Huh..” you pondered a bit before clicking on the pop up. You skimmed the description and saw the new price of the android. Isn’t that cool.. You mind couldn’t help but imagine a clean and delicious smelling house as soon as you entered it.

“That would be nice to have an android taking care of the house and making me food as soon as I got home..” you murmured.

You impulsively decided to buy it. Sure you would be dirt poor until your next few pay checks but that’s finneee. It was a good purchase anyways!! You saw the shipping and arrival details. The robot would get here in 2-3 days, with no shipping fees!

The robot arrived quickly and just in time! You had today off but you needed that time to set up the robot or whatever it required. You were about to find out anyways.

You scattered all the papers on top of the box and set it down on the floor; you had also unwrapped the huge box like a Christmas present. You saw two fluffy looking triangles pop out the box. It twitched trying to hear its surrounding. You poked at one and it quickly hid in the box.

“Oh, is it already powered on?” You pulled the thin cardboard cover and saw a person. Well not a person once you saw two ears and a tail? Was it a robot hybrid? You didn’t realize you ordered the hybrid version. You didn’t know the difference either so you didn’t really care.

“Hello, you must be my master? I’m delighted to meet you! Before we begin to set up my program, can you sign this?” The unnamed figure quickly made a request before doing anything.

“Ah, yeah sure. You got up and found a pen rather quickly and signed the paper you were handed. He stashed the paper inside the box and climbed out of it. You were both now sat on the couch. You observed him for a bit before saying anything. His tail swayed around in curiosity. You wondered if his skin felt like real human skin. Or if his tail and ears felt like an actual cat’s fur.

“Master? Can we get started on setting my program up?” He shyly asked.

“Yeah! Yeah,, sure” You laughed a little awkwardly.

“So, i just need you to type in that you are my master and name me. That’s pretty much it, and then I’ll be yours!” He smiled brightly. Was he programmed to be so happy?

As you were busy on your computer finalizing your purchase, he wandered around the house. He was rather curious about your living space and why you ordered him. He was too shy to ask quite yet so he decided to find out for himself.

He noticed that it was a little messy and nothing really seemed to be in the fridge other than a few ingredients. He could tell you didn’t really do anything but sleep and work.

Your mouse could be heard making audible clicking sounds before you closed your laptop. “Alright! I’m done, Vincent?” You couldn’t really come up with anything creative on the spot so you just went with a name you thought was cool.

“Coming!” Quick footsteps ran across the house and he sat next to you.

“Vincent, that’s a nice name!” He gushed at the fact that you named him!

“I’m glad you like it, I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“So Vincent, why do you have ears and a tail? What’s the difference from a regular cleaning robot and a cleaning hybrid robot?” You were interested in the difference to see if you got a better deal or not.

“Well since I’m the V.4.0 SCR Hybrid version, I have a teensy tiny bit of a difference. So I do have the normal cleaning program and intimate program as well BUT! I’m included with a heat mood. So every now and then I’ll have a heat so I guess I would be considered more needy rather than a usual SCR robot.” His tone was compassionate and informative.

You found it charming how excited he was to explain things about himself. Although, what did he mean by intimate program and heat? You audibly asked him about what you questioned and he had an amused expression on his face.

“What do you mean! All SCR’s come with intimate parts and skills. That’s the whole point of them! Or at least half. It’s even in the name SCR the acronym is Sex Cleaning Robots.” He giggled at your confusion.

“I thought you were just a regular cleaning robot..” You sat there baffled at the fact you not only ordered a cleaning robot but a sex robot??

His ears made small twitch, they were facing forward . The fluffy tail he had was raised and curled a bit like a cute little question mark.

“Well, you don’t have to use the intimate side of my program.. but I would prefer if you did” The last few words came out as a mumble.

“I’m not sure, I’ll see if I ever need to use it. I’m not totally off the table for it I was just a little surprised that I ordered that type of android” You stopped his small worries without realizing it.

A month had passed, you were accustomed to the android being in your home. He settled in your house nicely and always kept it spotless. Today was another day, of coming home to work and being greeted by an excited little cat.

“Master!! Welcome home, I cleaned the house as usual! And today I worked on organizing the kitchen and I just finished.” His tone was ardent and the fluffy little tail behind him quivered excitedly.

“Thanks Vin, you’re such a helpful little robot” You scratched his head, specifically behind his ears which always made him vibrate a purr. Once you took off your shoes and bag, he rushed to go serve you a plate of the food he made. You could tell he was needier than usual.

You sat down and patiently waited for him to come serve you. He brought your plate and sat in the chair nearest to you. His eyes kept on you as you stabbed one of the cooked potato pieces with your fork and ate it. You enjoyed how he seasoned the food and how well he cooked it.

“Today, I tried a new recipe! I was searching around on the web and saw a cool potato recipe along side with some meat. Do you like it?” He looked at you intently.

“Yeah it’s really good as always, you cook so well!”

Your words caused a nice feeling in his heart, or body? ‘I don’t actually have a live blood pumping heart.’ He thought to himself

You ate while talking with Vincent before you set your dishes in the sink and head off to bed. That was just a regular night after work. And you assumed as you got home the next night that it would be exactly the same but it wasn’t.

You opened the door but this time you weren’t greeted by your cute little cat robot. You wondered why but you brushed it off as him not being able to. Maybe he was cooking, or cleaning!

You opened your mouth, about to call out his name until you hear rather loud airy breaths.

Your eyes detected the ever so slight sound of muffled moaning, it didn’t sound too far away though and as you walked little by little it gained in volume.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused on why you could hear moaning. What could he possible be doing that causes him to moan? He’s a robot, he shouldn’t be doing anything suspicious or being with someone so..

You peered in the room; you quickly noticed he wouldn’t detect you unless he turned around but he was face planted in your pillow with his ass up. He panted and groaned rolling his hips into the pillow that still had your scent the strongest. The fact it smelt just like you was the main cause of why he used it to pleasure himself.

He knew that it was bad to be doing this but he couldn’t help it! He was cooking as usual until he felt warmth quickly creep up on his face. He started feeling desperate and needy, something throbbing in his zipped up pants. He couldn’t help but use your room as an enabler. He tried fighting against his instincts but he couldn’t!

He was trying to be a good boy but once he caught whiff of your intoxicating scent he couldn’t help but use it to get himself off. His face was planted in your pillow, drooling and nibbling at it.. it was certainly a sight you didn’t expect to see..! But that didn’t mean you didn’t love it.

You creeped up behind him and turned him around before sitting on top of him. “What exactly are you doing” You pinned his wrists above him.

As a robot, he could’ve easily escaped this grasp of yours but the heat seemed to hit him hard.

“Ah! Master!! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t help it” His whiny voice of tone made it him sound like a needy slut. You peered at his face that he so desperately wanted to hide.

“You couldn’t even finish cleaning? Seriously? What did I buy you for?” You pretended to be mad.

“I’m sorry!! I’ll get on it right now” He tried to sit up but you gestured him to lay back down by kissing his neck which caused him to freeze. He could feel your warm soft lips kiss his neck , his face, and even his own lips. You teased him by lifting his shirt up a bit and making him spread his legs a little more.

He complied easily and listened to every word you had to say with complete obedience. He was your robot after all, but he took it to another level this time. The heat brewing in his system kept messing with his head. The way you touched him so softly made him shiver.

You unzipped his pants, lowering them little by little. The throbbing part of his was finally touching cold air and he couldn’t help but whimper. You put both hands around his cock. It was warm, veiny, it looked like a normal cock.

He felt nervous, seeing your observe his cock. “I hope.. it meets your expectations” He covered his face embarrassed and red.

“It does” You rubbed his cock up and down, it produced what you assume was precum. You rubbed it all over and noticed every time you got near his tip, his hips would jolt with an audible gasp being met out. So he was like any usual functioning human. You removed your pants and underwear before aligning your sex with his.

The both of you let out a moan of pleasure as he entered you, and you tightening around him. As you fully took him in, he sat up and had his hands on your hips. He didn’t know what to do, he was too nervous to do anything but hold you. You could see his tail wagging cutely. He essentially let you do the work to start with.

Your body slowly started to welcome him in, no longer tightening the muscles inside you. He whimpered as soon as you started moving. Seeing your body relax and your expression every time you took him in fully once more.. made his cock throb made him harder than he’s ever been before.

You finally got used to his size and picked up the pace, to which Vincent responded with quiet murmurs of how much he loves you and soft moans. You leaned against him, arching your back slightly, trying to tease him with your warmth.

Nipping as his neck, you got more intense. Lust fully taking you over you bounced up on him more and more until he kept putting pressure on the spot inside you that begged to be hit again every time you went up.

His shaky hands caressing your hips more, sliding to the front of you. He fondled with your chest, pinching your nipples trying to pleasure you. You moaned and kept slamming his cock inside you. His moans and whimpers being loud in your ears as he stopped playing with your nipples.

He positioned you on your hands and knees. Deciding to finally take control so you didn’t do all the work. He slowly entered again, the precum he provided helped so much in pleasure and entering you easily. He started the pace same as before, fast and needy. He thrusted into you, harder trying to hit the spot that he knew would bring your pleasure.

Your moans same as before gave him the heads up that he was hitting the spot. He put his slightly less shaky hands on your hips as he used them to pull you back onto his cock after taking himself out for another thrust inside you. He continued this, drooling at the fact that HE was pleasuring you. His cock throbbed, and twitched inside you.

Both of you whimpered, so close to reaching your climax. He let out mumbles of “god I love you so much” “master please let me cum inside you” He whimpered with tears in the corners of his eyes as he quickly gets your panting approval.

He slams his body into your backside for one final time before releasing his sticky infertile cum inside you, he pants still not wanting to leave your warm inside. Making small needy thrusts inside your sensitive body.

He picked you up to sit in his lap. You turned slightly and kissed Vincent, telling him you wanted to sleep.

He nodded quickly seeing your sleepy eyes. He laid down and had you as little spoon. He still stayed inside you, you cockwarming him while you slowly fell in a deep sleep.

He wondered if he should try and sleep as well. He couldn’t help but use this as a chance to touch you further. His robot programming kept telling him to stop and that he should wait till you were awake again to do something but something inside of him kept telling him to keep going, to keep touching you.

Once he knew you were fully asleep he took this chance to slowly thrust into you, hearing your sleepy moans and seeing your expressions as you still slept. He loved it, he loved having you in his arms. He just kept doing shallow thrusts as he held you close. The sound of quiet slapping of the skin was heard all around the room.

A few times you murmured things that immediately scared him thinking you were awake but you were just talking in your sleep. So he continued.

He held onto your stomach, interlocking his arms to make sure you were in place as he thrusted into you slowly, then quicker and quicker. Until he was fully fucking you. Entering in and out, chasing his high shamelessly.

He whimpered and gave your sleeping body a couple of more hard slams inside of you before he came once more inside you. He murmured nothing but sweet things in your ear as he softly thrusted a few more times before being satisfied. He was going to make you his forever.

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#yandere #robotyan #yandere x you #gn reader #catboy #robotcatboy #somnophilia #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #robots #vincentmyoc

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jamneuromain · 1 year

Text

No Use Running

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: NON-CON/DUB-CON, Dark Content, Smut, Angst and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Clit Stimulation, Pet Names (Angel), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Overstimulation, Angst, Angst With A Happy Ending, Dark!Andy Barber, sex toys, vibrator, bondage element

Word count: ~4k

Summary: What are you going to do when Andy is mad at you?

A/N: Big shout out to vera @rogerswifesblog and her amazing moodboard, both help me tremendously with the conversation in bold, also help me spiral a thought into a 4k smut. Fair warning, lots of angst, which surprises me, really, because I was mostly thinking of the smut when talking to vera (sorry not sorry XD).

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

A year into your relationship, Andy has only one rule for you.

One rule, and one rule only.

Don’t get drunk when you are partying with your friends. If you are partying, tell him beforehand in case he gets worried about you not coming home.

Just this one rule. Don’t get drunk, call him first.

Simple as that.

In your defense… face it, you have no defense. You screwed up. Big time.

You were so excited about the little getaway your friends planned (and told you about it the minute your last class of the semester ended “we’re partying tonight guuuuuuurl”) that you completely forgot about the rule of “calling Andy”, and happily got yourself more than tipsy.

“More than tipsy”. That’s an understatement. Your very last memory about the night was you doing shots with your friends. You find yourself in the shared home of you and Andy in the next morning, lying comfortably in bed with a minor migraine and fresh PJs, trying to remember what had happened.

Tipsy? You were wasted.

Knowing Andy? If he was home last night, he’d be so mad.

You search for your phone around your pillow, finally locating it on the other side of the bed, linked to the charger.

Your gut sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You’d charge your phone on your side. Your phone is now on Andy’s side.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

This is bad.

This is very bad.

This is Godzilla versus King Kong bad.

You can honestly hear every ounce of your luck shatters when you turn on your phone and a dozen missed calls from Andy pop up, dating back to last night and this early morning.

Holy fucking shit.

You are doomed.

Andy has already left because he has a full schedule today.

You frown as your phone gone cold. There was no message asking whether you have woken up. No sticky notes on your forehead as usual if you are sleeping late, telling you that he left a sandwich for you in the fridge. No nothing.

He’s really mad.

You frown more when you find excessive food in the fridge. Some leftover beef stew, chicken kabab, and a whole lemon cheesecake. That’s strange. Andy’s not the type to cook excessively.

And no sandwich.

You make yourself some food to eat and clean the house for a bit.

Your memory pieces some fragments together. You remember stumbling into Andy on the porch. You remember dancing in the club, raising your shot glass, and giggling with your friends.

Your memory is still incoherent and you don’t know what happened exactly.

You vacuum the living room, read for your upcoming assignment, and finally, you decide to cook dinner to show that you are sorry.

Leaping up when you hear his car pull up in the front, rushing to the door to welcome him home: “Hey Andy. How’s your day?”

Andy has a large box under his arm, which you pipe up to help him carry it and put it anywhere he wants.

“Just an average day.” He pecks you on your lips, insisting he carries this on his own. You are nervous as hell when he doesn’t smile, not even after kissing you.

You peek at the box, can’t help but ask as you see the black tape circling the cardboard box: “Amazon? What did you buy?”

“Nothing important.” He shrugs, heading up the stairs with the big box.

Maybe he’s not that mad?

You cross your fingers, hoping that everything works out with luck on your side.

Dinner is as uneventful. However, you can feel that he is distracted and uncharacteristically quiet. Andy used to say what he doesn’t want or what he doesn’t like. He’s vocal about your relationship, but this new Andy is so lukewarm that it is scary to you.

You choose to cuddle on the couch after dinner, playing a Netflix show as background noise on TV.

“I’m sorry about last night, Andy. I should’ve called you. I’m sorry.” You loop his arm around your shoulders, looking up at him apologetically, “and I shouldn’t get caught up partying either. I wouldn’t do that ever after.”

Something flickers in his eyes that you cannot catch. In the end, he says nothing, only tightening his grip on your arm, leaning for a kiss.

You rather wish he spanked you or edge you, just like what he did with your previous few wrong-doings. It wasn’t fun but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. You’d rather have him cuddling you after rough sex than to have him ... distant?

You deserve it, to be honest, you know he’d be angry with you.

You only are aware of how angry he is the second you step into the bedroom.

He is fixing the four cuffs tied to the bed, black leather with shiny metal chains. The now-empty Amazon delivery box lies wide open on the floor, giving you the slightest clue of what could have been inside.

Spoiler alert, you didn’t have cuffs in this house. He used to tie you up with his ties.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Andy smiles, for the first time today. He unbuttoned his cuff link and his collar to adjust the length of the metal chains. This normally looks extra hot to you, but knowing what could be waiting for you, you just want to run.

You carefully take a sneaky step back, “umm, Andy, I know you are mad. And I’m so very sorry.” Another step back. “But we can talk this out.” Another step. “Pl-Please don’t be mad?”

Andy rests his hands on his hips, his blue eyes icy cold.

“Sit on the bed, Angel.”

“Andy-” You visibly gulp, tensing all the muscles in your body so that you can dash to the stairs the second he drops down his guard.

“Don’t make me fuckin’ repeat that.” He shoots back at you.

You are going to die on the bed for all you know. You are going to be edged to the brink of your life. A chill runs down your spine, every sense in your body warning you of the menacing danger you are faced with.

“Please, Andy, we can talk this out, I’m begging you.” You plead to him, slowly dragging your feet to the door instead of the bed, “please, Andy.”

Your fight or flight response kicks in the second he prances on you. Of course, you choose to run from him.

You barely make it to the stairs when he grabs your wrist and halts you by your waist, clutching your body so tight like you are a prey struggling for its life. Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat. Your body, although unwillingly, clings to him for dear life, fearing that he slips and drops you on the floor.

“Andy, please! I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again!” You yelp when he throws you onto the bed. You try to sit up when he clasps your ankle with one cuff, you are forced to lie down when he clasps your wrist with another cuff.

“Can’t believe you even tried to run - save it, Angel. You’re in for a long night.” He huffs disapprovingly.

Clasp. Clasp. All your limbs are secured and tied up. He didn’t even bother to take off your nightdress, only pulls your panties to your ankles.

You think it couldn’t be worse.

Oh but it did.

He takes the vibrating wand from the bedside drawer and loosens his belt.

You watch in horror as he fastens his black leather belt around your thighs, squeezing the wand between your legs, where it nestles on your clit.

“Andy-”

“See, Angel, I was planning to hold that wand myself,” he kisses your forehead. The darkness seeps back into his eyes. With a flick of the remote on his phone, the wand buzzes to life. A warm grin on his face, he retreats to the corner of the room, where he sits on a chair and opens his laptop, “too bad I need to work first.”

The vibration is low yet brutal. It triggers your body into moving your hips to avoid it, not that there is much space to move. Without his kisses and skilled fingers working your body, your pleasure builds up high and dry, your skin heats up reluctantly, seeking the attention it deserves.

“Andy-” You choke when your squirming accidentally has the wand brush your clit again, “please, I’m sorry.”

He glances at your frame briefly; his eyes soon return to his laptop. Crispy strokes from the keypad seem to be mocking your fruitless begging.

Your core twists in agony. It doesn’t take much to force an orgasm out of you.

“Pleaaase, Andy, please don’t edge me.” You whisper, moaning when the stimulation to your clit brings a fresh wave of arousal pooling down your pussy. Your channel expects his shaft, but you get nothing. Tide riding higher in your veins, rushing to your core, you are on the verge of cumming any second.

He raises his head from the laptop, a smirk curls his lips when he dials the vibration up a notch.

“Andy-!”

The buzzing grows louder, no longer a soft vibration, but a stronger torture to your clit.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cum.” He buries himself back into his “work”, his calm voice ghosts your ear, “you can cum as many times as you want. You’ve got all night, Angel.”

Your hips buck into the air, pressing your clit tightly on the wand, drawing the first orgasm out of you. Your body bounces on the bed as the orgasm hits you, doing all it can to run from the incessant stimulation on your clit. You wish you could run, but you are chained to the bed,

“Andy, please.” You cry out, tears rolling down from the corner of your eyes, “I-fuck-I said I’m sorry!”

The loud snap when he shuts his laptop makes you shiver.

“The thing is,” Andy sits perfectly still, he watches you writhing on the bed as the second orgasm builds up, "I don’t think you are." His tone barely contains his anger, “bet you totally forget about what yesterday was, huh?”

“Wha-”

“It was supposed to be our one-year relationship anniversary.”

Your brain stops working altogether.

Oh no. It was.

You started dating around this time last year.

You didn’t think you were doing an anniversary this early. If you are counting from the day you became boyfriend and girlfriend, you are two months away from your anniverisary.

“I cooked for candle-lit dinner and bought roses and shit, and what did you repay me with?” He crosses his arm and scoffs, “no texts. No calls. Get fuckin’ drunk with boys.”

Your mind clears its fog, letting you remember you stumbling into Andy while waving goodbye to Mike (or Michael?), who volunteered to uber you home when you were all getting “tipsy”.

“It’s nothing-He just-oh fuck, he just came along to make sure I got home. I’m sorry.” You whimper, your sentence cut off as you feel arousal leak from your pussy, “I’m really sorry about-ah-what you planned. Please, please stop the wand and we can talk.”

His words drip with sarcasm, “and I’m just a poor old fool who thought I could capture a young girl’s heart.” Andy snorts, “that work out well.”

Even as pleasure gradually clouds your brain, you understood what he said and a pang of pain rips your heart to shreds. If you knew about his plan, no, if you remembered, or thought about your anniversary, it wouldn’t end up with both of you in agony.

This is all your fault.

“No, Andy,” you croak, trying to ignore the buzz between your legs, “don’t say that.” It’s not true. I love you.

Andy doesn’t reply to your pleading, his cold expression molded on his face again, “you asked me to be ‘thoroughly fucked’.”

You did, trying to peel him out of his black T-shirt, trying to have him kiss you, saying tons of things that you utterly regret now.

“You wanted it last night, no? Wish granted.” Andy growls, “now take it.”

He turns up the vibration again.

If the previous vibration was barely endurable, this time it is way beyond what you can handle.

You cum with a scream, tugging the chains with your tied-up legs. The rattling of the chains doesn’t stop when you finish cumming. You jolt and kick, as the buzz is incessant on your clit, and you are on your way to your third orgasm.

“Andy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, “it hurts.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Andy picks up a book on the table, glancing at you one last time before he shuts his mouth and starts reading.

Another orgasm hits. And another. You can’t tell what hurts more, your swollen clit or his indifference. You scream and plead, stammering between moans and words, some of them mumble into one. Your skin is coated by a sheen of sweat. Your body reacts to the wand with overruling pleasure above your mind, having you think of nothing but the sensation from your bundle of nerves. And then it starts to hurt. With every second of the wand between your thighs, your mind cannot decide if it wants more or to get away from the stimulation. Another orgasm punches all the air from your lungs. Your cry is silent, mouth agape, tears roll into streams, your body refuses for you to breathe in, running low in oxygen that your vision has spots.

The stimulation between your legs dials down to a full stop.

You draw in a lung full of air. Coughing as you feel your chest is about to explode.

Your body buzzes. Or your clit still feels the buzz ghosting your legs. Your pussy twitches, quivering as it feels cold, soaked with your arousal. Your chest rises and falls, your heart pounding by your ear, your vision blurry with tears.

You want to curl up to your side. Your body is stressing as if it has just run a marathon.

The tugging from your wrists and ankles reminds you, you can’t.

A pillow is stuffed under your head, helping you to breathe a little.

You blink a few times before you make out it’s Andy sitting by the edge of the bed.

He held your head, bringing a cup to your lips.

You swallow on instinct, nearly choking yourself when you are taking big gulps of water.

“…?”

His lips open and close, saying something that doesn’t make sense to you.

Or your ears are ringing so that you can’t hear.

“Wha-?”

“Still talking, I see.” He nods nonchalantly, “do you need more water?”

You shake your head.

He takes the cup, standing up to leave.

“Wa-ait!” You tug the chains desperately, trying to get a hold of him, “Sorr-sorry.” You sniff, “can’t. Can’t cum.” You realize how hoarse your voice is when you open your mouth to speak, like someone rubbed it on sandpaper. You feel sorry. You are sorry. You do. You just can’t do this anymore. Even if you are not screaming, your body is screaming bloody murder.

“Shhh, just a little bit more.” Andy coos, turning up the vibration again.

“No. No-!”

Andy watches as you make a mess on your shared bed over and over again. Your mumbling pleas and begs melt into crying and screaming. Arching your hips as your body reflexes, even though it adds to your misery. Your orgasm hits stronger and slower every time, lasting longer, depriving you of your breathing. You lean your head to the side, panting, struggling. Not out of your will, but when your body instructs you to.

Your thighs flex instinctively when he sits down and caress your buzzing thighs, which are still bound together.

“Don’t think about anything.” He bends down to kiss your belly, coated in sweat. His beard scratching your sensitive skin, having your core tensing once again. “Talk to me, Angel.”

Your brain is clouded. Hearing his voice, you mumble something that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Do you want this to stop?” His voice sounds muffled. Blocked. Like speaking, but with cotton in your ears.

But you understand.

“No-No-hmph.”

Your brain mushed. It hurts. You want more. Keep it going. Till the end of time.

Andy chuckles.

He dials the vibration down to a full stop. You, however, cry out again, one word slurring into another, “More. Want-more.”

He turns a deaf ear to your begging, unclasping his belt to reveal your thighs, having the belt digging into them so hard that leaves a red mark on both of them.

You burst into tears when he pulls the wand out between your legs. Your hips bucking for more pain and pleasure.

The wand is wet. From your arousal and your sweat.

Andy drops the wand to the side, unclasping the restraints on your ankles.

“More…” you whimper like a wounded animal, “more, Andy.”

Andy pries your legs open. Red marks from the wand between your thighs. A puddle of creamy arousal underneath you. Your legs shaking, trembling. Your pussy is red, swollen, covered in slick. Your clit puffy, peeking out from your pussy lips.

“More.” You mewl, as if that’s your whole vocabulary, “more.”

Andy kisses the red marks on your thighs gently, “you like that, huh?”

“Yes. More, Andy.”

Tears stain your cheek but you are about to cry again. Anything to have the wand back. To have something stimulate you to orgasm. Anything to stimulate you, burn your body with pleasure.

This is what he’s been waiting for. To overstimulate you until you are truly overwhelmed with pleasure. You will want more pleasure you can take until you pass out. You will agree to anything for it. Most importantly, you will want him again.

He unclasps your wrists too, prying your legs open more to touch your clit.

“Yesyesyes.” You grind your abused pussy to his hand eagerly, whimpering when he draws his hand back.

“My Angel…” He sighs, stripping himself out of his suit and trousers. His thick shaft straining in his boxers when you moaned and cried. He kneels on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, hovering above you to kiss you, “my beautiful Angel. You’re mine.”

He sheathes himself in entirely at the last word, having you cry out. Having you moan his name. Having you digging your nails into his arm.

Your walls grip him. Sucking him in. Welcoming him with warm wet heat. Your walls crave his cock, craving to be filled to the brim again, craving the stretch and burn as you try to accommodate him.

The pain blends into your pleasure. You can’t tell them apart. His cock brushing your clit on his way out. Your walls convulse. Him slamming back in to rearrange your guts. Your walls clench down. He takes your long-ignored nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging with his lips. You could only sob because of how good it feels.

You want more. You want him. You want his tip kissing your cervix.

“Say it.” He grits his teeth and spits out, “say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours.” You chant as he knocks the breath out of your lungs, his shaft thrusting deeper, harder.

“That’s right, Angel.” He snaps his hips into you, “you’re fuckin’ mine. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good.”

He interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm next to your head.

You stutter his name when you cum, your vision blacks out, everything is slowed down to a halt. You feel a few more thrusts, and his hot spent flood your pussy.

Then you drift to a dreamless sleep.

Your arms hurt. Your legs hurt. Your stomach hurts.

There’s not a fine muscle left on your body.

You curl yourself into a ball, facing the opposite direction of Andy, wincing as you hug your knee.

Your pussy hurts too. Sore and tired from the orgasms ripped out of your body.

Your eyes are dry as if the Sandman blinded you, but you still shed a couple tears onto the pillow. Some of them traveled across your nose bridge and blended into the tears from your other eye.

You can’t believe he overstimulated you. You can’t believe he punished you so hard for disobeying one rule. Most importantly, you can’t believe he had no faith in your relationship. After the class, after the drama with Laurie, after his participation and encouragement in your writing, he means everything to you.

The heartbreak from last night catches up to you, piercing your chest, so painful that you couldn’t breathe.

You open your mouth to ease the pressure of your puffy nose, but the pain just follows your breath like a knife, slashing everywhere it could reach.

You try to cry as subtly and quietly as you can, but your shaking body betrays you, having Andy push himself on his elbow to rub your arm.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” He whispers softly.

He notices you are not responding, leaning closer to check on you: “Shit.”

He grabs the Kleenex box, places it in front of you, and moves to spoon your naked body, kissing your bare shoulder: “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m such an asshole.” Kiss. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far.” Kiss. “Please don’t cry, Angel.”

“I got too angry over the night before and…” he sighs, “I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”

“How can you say that?” You turn abruptly, staring at him with watery eyes, tears falling from your cheeks. You can almost hear your spine crack for turning so fast, “how can you say that like you mean nothing to me? Like I’m some gold-digging bitch exploiting you?”

“Angel, I-”

“You mean the world to me, Andy.” I love you. “You are everything I write, you are every reason I come home to, you are every piece of my heart.” I love you. “And I…”

Maybe it’s your insecurities. Maybe it’s the unsuccessful marriage of Andy and Laurie. Maybe it’s your stories that you are certain every hero and heroine would be the perfect match for each other, but you can’t be certain in real life.

You would return Andy’s excessive interpretation in class right back to his face. You would challenge him academically in his office. But you suddenly feel your tongue way too heavy to say the simple word, “love”.

Andy hears your silence.

Andy cups your chin, having you look him in the eye.

Andy, as a writer, knows there are a million ways of interpreting this silence, but choose not to.

He chooses to look at your bed hair, your puffy nose, your teary eyes, carving every detail into his memory.

He wipes the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, Andy.”

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #professor andy barber #student reader #no use running #dancing in the daydream #dark!andy barber

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