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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

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3.5k of cbf-turned-bully!soap x reader, inspired by this (very old) ask to my fave ever <3 (read on ao3)

tags: dubcon, dirty talk, masturbation, references to bullying, breaking and entering, rough sex, overstimulation

You’re still nearly shaking with frustration as you settle beneath your sheets, fingers twitching against your stomach and your jaw clenched tight.

You are not going to touch yourself. You’re not. There is no way in hell that you’re coming home from seeing Johnny fucking MacTavish for the first time in years and masturbating. It’s not happening.

…Well, you are awfully keyed up.

“Fucking bastard,” you hiss to yourself, frustration only growing as you shimmy down your loose shorts. You tell yourself firmly that this has absolutely nothing to do with the reappearence of your greatest nemesis, and try not to grind your teeth. You hadn’t even spoken to the man - just a glance of him had you hissing and ducking behind a different aisle at the supermarket - and you’re already riled by him. It’d be embarrassing if you weren’t nearly too horny to think.

You take a deep breath and rest your fingers over your slit, closing your eyes and letting your mind wander. You touch yourself slowly, fingers carefully spreading your lips as you let your mind wander. With your free hand you tug open your bedside drawer, tugging out your favorite toy and dragging it down your stomach.

Your movements are measured and familiar as your usual fantasies play across the backs of your eyes. You give yourself several long moments to slicken, coaxing more and more from your body with nimble fingers and quick circles.

In your mind, there’s a large body over yours and something just thick enough to let you feel the sting of a stretch inside of you, your breasts pushing against his chest, soft grunts in your ears.

Your breathing hitches, hips working against your palm as the fantasy starts to become more clear. He’s big, both above you and inside of you - only halfway in and already tugging you near the edge. His hands are on either side of your head, caging you in so all you can see is his tan skin, his rippling muscles.

You bite your lip to hold back a moan, eyelids fluttering. His bright eyes roll back when he pulls away enough for you to see his face. You lift one hand to your breast, the other gripping his head and both of you moan when you tug. The drag of his cock inside of you is perfect, his weight over you, the heat absolutely pouring over him…

His head drops back down when you let go of his hair, and his lips curve up into a smile as he looks down at you.

You nearly screech when you recognize him, throwing both hands away from your body and your eyes flying open to stare at your dark cieling. Your cunt and nipple throb, feeling quite suddenly neglected, but your heart isracing for an entirely different reason.

No. No. It’s one thing to satisfy your own needs after seeing the man, it’s another to… God, you can hardly even think it - to fantasize about the man and fuck yourself to him.

“Fuck,” you whisper, desire rapidly cooling. Without Johnny himself in front of you - all six feet of him, muscular and masculine as he’s grown up to be - it’s easier to remember just how terrible he was to you all those years in school. There’s no sharp jawline and cute scruff to distract you from the memory of how he’d steal your clothes before you could change in gym class, leaving you with only those embarrassingly tiny athletic shorts for the rest of the day.

You huff as you let your legs fall closed again, the mood well and truly dissipating now. All you’ve got left is regular frustration, instead of the fun kind.

A sharp tap at the window jerks you out of your pouting, and you yank your blankets up to cover what little skin is showing in a panic, the slick dildo resting on your thighs. The room is silent for a moment, absolutely still except for the fan in the corner that’s been blowing for years, until there’s another tap.

You don’t realize what it is until the tap turns into a thunk. Then, you can hardly bite back your yelp. You’re nearly paralyzed with fear as the sound turns into a sort of… jangling almost, clearly coming from the one window in your bedroom.

Back pressed against your headboard, you can do nothing but think of all the things you should be doing as the curtains start blowing more noticeably, wind pouring into the room.

You’re just sucking in a breath to scream when Johnny MacTavish pops out from behind the curtain, combat boots loud against the wood flooring.

“Same old broken lock, huh, bonnie?” He smirks, strolling into your room like he belongs, like he used to. “Be honest now, you were just waiting here for me, weren’t you?”

You’re gaping like a fish, you know it, but you can’t help but stare at him wide-eyed.

The last time John MacTavish was in your bedroom, he was at least a foot shorter and a hell of a lot more welcome. The two of you had been eleven when he’d still been willing to be near you, but as soon as you’d moved on to elementary school - as soon as boys became boys and girls became girls, and kids had crushes instead of cooties - he’d stopped coming around. It was only a few years after that, in high school, that he’d gone from a friend you used to have to the boy who made school miserable.

And there is not one single reason you can think of to justify him sneaking in, the way he used to. Not now, all these years later with so much - said and unsaid - lingering between you.

None of that seems to weigh on him, though. He’s cocky as ever, doesn’t even bother to take off his boots as he saunters towards your bed, giving you a long look that can only be described as salacious as he leans himself against the foot of your bed.

It’s pure instinct to grope blindy at your bedside table, grabbing the first thing your fingertips touch and launching it at his head.

His instincts are sharp enough the he catches the bottle of water before it can do any real damage, but the small distraction gives you enough time to stumble to your feet, blanket held protectively in front of your body - you’re not completely nude, but a tanktop and panties aren’t exactly what you want Johnny seeing you in.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You hiss, some old instinct making you want to stay quiet even though there’s no one in the house with you.

The look he gives you is almost begrudgingly scolding, his lips tilted up in the corners as he tuts like he’s just barely holding back a smile. “Now, what was that for? I know your happy to see me, no need to start throwin’ things.”

“Johnny,” you scold, heartbeat slowing as the initial fear fades. “What the hell are you doing in my room? We haven’t spoken in years, you can’t just show back up-”

“Aw, I knew you missed me,” he grins, easily interrupting you and stepping almost within arms reach, water bottle discarded on your dresser. “Figured you didnae want to hear from me, I’d have written if I knew you’d be so crabbit.”

You splutter a bit, spine straightening in offense. “You’re breaking into my house! I have more than a right to be- what’d you say? Crabbit?”

His smile only grows and he steps closer, making you instinctually take a step back. “I don’t mind, lass. ‘S always fun to coax a pretty thing out of an ugly mood.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you splutter, your heart only beating faster as Johnny prowls forward, eyes dragging down your body like he wants to eat you alive.

“I like your PJs, bonnie,” he rumbles, reaching out a hand to drag his finger down one of the straps of your tank top. “Did you match your panties just for me?”

Yous hiss and smack his hand away, one hand crossing tight over your chest to try and regain some amount of modesty. “How could I have dressed for you when you’re breaking in? This is ridiculous, you need to go, Johnny-”

You hardly even notice as he slowly pushes you backward, his chest pressed against yours until there’s no more room to pull away from him, the wall at your back a cold shock.

“Go?” He tilts his head, eyes big and round and you know the bastard isn’t as innocent or well-meaning as he’s trying to look. “But I just got here, bonnie. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

You rear back at the crass language, face flushing with heat. “What- we’re not going to-” You stumble over your words, pressing further back against the wall when his hands - rough, calloused, so much bigger than they used to be - grab both of your elbows to keep you still. “We’re not having sex,” you finally manage to choke out.

His grin is shark-like, sharp and verging on mean as he ducks his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to match your volume. “Why not? You look hungry, lass, don’t you want a little help? My fingers are bigger than yours, bet I can reach further up in your pretty cunt than you can.”

You gape for a moment, mouth moving as you think about saying any number of things, each of them dying before they cross your lips. This Johnny is so far from the lanky teenager who shoved you as you passed him in the hallway, and even further from the little boy who refused to be your first kiss because of your cooties. You have no idea how to deal with this invasive adult Johnny.

Your hands are small against his broad chest, and you press against him with just a hint of pressure, hoping he’ll take your hint and lean away. He doesn’t, only pushes himself closer and gives you some of his weight to hold up.

“Johnny, come on,” you try, pushing a little harder and only getting yourself more firmly pinned against the wall. “We can- let’s get lunch tomorrow, okay? We can talk then.”

Johnny doesn’t respond at first, only ducks down and presses his face into your throat. You stiffen at the feeling of his damp breath against your skin, the slight brush of his teeth chasing goosebumps down your spine. Your breath hitches when you feel a distinct shape against your stomach, his hardness pressing into you.

“I can’t leave now, bonnie,” he says against your throat, groaning and grinding himself against you just once. “Ye’ve got me all worked up, I’ll die if you make me go.”

“Johnny…” you whine, wrapping your hands around his biceps and squeezing.

“I’ll make it good for you, don’ worry,” he reassures, hands shifting from the wall to wrap around your waist. “Might be a tad selfish once we get goin’, but you’ll have your fun.”

You can’t do much but squirm as one of his hands slips down beneath your bottoms, large hand cupping you. Your squeak is entirely unintentional when his fingers begin to explore without any reservations, your face hot with embarrassment at how quickly your body reacts.

Johnny doesn’t lift his head far, only enough to mouth at your jaw and leave little sucking bites. His free hand, the one not stroking your clit and drawing out wetness from your core, drifts up enough to palm one of your breasts.

“Johnny,” you breathe, incapable of saying anything but his name.

You can feel his smile against your skin, and you arch further into him when he slides one thick finger inside of you. His fingers are bigger than yours, enough for you to worry about the size of other parts of him.

“You’re so tight for me, lovie. Gonna squeeze me just right, huh?” His fingers crooks inside of you at just the right angle, and your hips jerk forward on instinct as you cry out. “Pretty thing, can’t believe I never had this back in school.”

“What-” You start, cutting yourself off with a gasp that melts into a moan as he pushes another finger inside of you. You’re more than wet enough to take it, but everything seems to be moving at hyperspeed, and you can’t keep up. “Oh, that’s- what’re you talking about?”

He huffs against your jaw, nosing up a little further to press against your cheek as his hot breath washes over you. “You’re so pretty lass, had me hard as iron every day when we were kids. Wasn’t very nice, huh bonnie? Walkin’ around in those cute skirts and - fuck, your pretty blush… drove me fucking insane.”

You yelp at the sudden stretch of three fingers, pushing up onto your toes to try and jerk away, but Johnny just follows you, thumb stroking cruelly over your clit.

“Just wanted to bend you over,” he groans, pressing his hips into your stomach and gripping your breast tight enough that you worry you’ll bruise. “Wanted to put you on your knees, on your back, fuck, woulda done anything for just a peek at this pretty cunt.”

“Jo-hnny,” you hiccup, melting against him as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you, everything else fading as you creep closer to an orgasm you’re not even sure you want. “I don’t-”

“Hush,” he hisses, smacking your tit lightly and ignoring your cry of shock. “Lemme get you off here, then I’ll fuck you, yeah? Gonna split you open on my cock, show you what you coulda had years ago, gonna fuck you dumb.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans and cries as they slowly grow in volume. Your hips buck against his hands as you chase an orgasm, unable to do anything more than pant into Johnny’s mouth as he licks into yours, tongue exploring every bit he can reach.

Your orgasm absolutely melts you, leaves you weak and limp pinned between the wall and the man you’d once known so well. Johnny’s breathing almost as hard as you, every part of him pressed fully against you. He’s all heat and solid man, forcing you to ride out every euphoric wave of your orgasm.

You’re a little glassy eyed by the end of it, knees weak and mind even weaker. You’re vaguely aware of your hands lightly pushing at him as he lifts you by the thighs, dropping you carelessly onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Johnny hisses, tearing your clothes from your body like they’re nothing. You whine when he presses kisses to your stomach, those kisses quickly turning to sucking bites that have you arching and running a hand through his mohawk.

He doesn’t bother to take off his shirt - too busy licking his way up to your tits for that - but the sound of his belt dropping to the floor and his jeans following is loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

When he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking like he’s trying to physically pull more moans from you, you arch off the bed with a near squeal. He’s hunched over you as he settles firmly above your prone form on the bed, knees between your thighs and keeping them spread.

“Slow- slow down,” you gasp, tapping at his shoulder a bit frantically as you feel the thick - so thick - length of him press against your drooling center. “Johnny-!”

Your cry melts into a long, drawn-out moan as Johnny forces himself inside of you with one mean thrust. Three fingers somehow wasn’t enough prep for you to take him comfortably, his cock leaving you teary eyed and writhing on the bed as he bottoms out in just seconds. You feel like you’ve been impaled, the breath forced from your chest as you dig your nails into his shoulder and try despertley to breathe through the stretch.

“There,” Johnny pants above you, lips pink and swollen from his kisses. “There ye go, bonnie, good fuckin’ girl for me. Coulda - shit, shit - coulda had this years ago, huh?” His head drops low, eyes boring into yours as he pulls back and thrusts back into you sharply, forcing another cry from your lips. “See how good it feels? I can make you feel so good, pretty girl, promise.”

“Johnny, c’mon,” you gasp, scratching down his shoulder blades and pulling him close. Any reservations you had have been fucked out of you in just a few thrusts, and even despite your recent orgasm your clit throbs with need. “C’mon, you can- you can move.”

His smile is sharp above you, his own pupils blown wide and his shirt sticking to his sweat-slick skin. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you harder?”

You whine high in your throat, throwing your head back and hitching your hips higher as he finds a pace that works, his hips slamming against the backs of your thighs when you wrap them around his waist. You’re half off the bed with the position he’s got you in, his arms scooping you up around your back so he can lavish more attention across your tits.

Every breath you take leaves you in a moan or a cry, the pleasure he’s punshing into you almost overwhelming. You feel fevered, desperate in a way you never have before as you claw desperately at Johnny’s scalp, tugging his hair until he moans.

“So tight for me,” he slurs against your chest, drooling as he switches from one nipple to the other. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ mad, bonnie, could stay in this cunt forever, shit.”

“Johnny,” you gasp, eyes screwed up tight as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to a second peak. “You’re so… fuck, so big, I can’t… can’t breathe.”

“Yeah?” He asks, looking up at you and pushing himself up enough to press kisses to your lips. “‘M fuckin’ the air right out of you, huh? Fuckin’ you so good you can’t breathe?”

“Yeah,” you keen, your body beginning to tense as you begin to taste your orgasm. “Feel so good, Johnny, please, I’m so- I’m so close, c’mon…”

“Yes, yes,” he chants against you, his lips brushing over every bit of your face he can reach, tongue darting out to lick up the few stray tears slipping from your eyes. “Squeeze me tight, c’mon, come for me, lass, you can do it.”

He doesn’t give up his tight hold on you to rub your clit, but you find that you don’t need him to, the combination of his thrusts and everything about the situation bringing you to a powerful enough orgasm that your vision whites out for a moment. Your throat is sore as you shout, and the fabric of Johnny’s shirt is loose around where your fingers have dug in mercilessly.

“Fuck, tight as a vice, fuck, fuck,” Johnny moans, his own face screwed up in pleasure as he loses any rhythm he had before, fucking you like a fleshlight. He leans back and pulls you up with him, holding you chest to chest with him and burying his face into your neck as you hold onto him for dear life.

He buries his teeth right above your pulse as he comes, working his hips in small, jerky thrusts to milk himself as you tighten up around him. Your breath is synced with his, both of you panting desperately and soaked in sweat.

You’re still reeling as he begins to recover. Before you can even muster enough strength to let your thighs fall away from his hips, he’s falling forward onto the bed and laying both of you out on your sides, his hold on you not loosening at all. He takes half a second to throw his shirt across the room, then presses you so close that your tits are all but flat against his chest.

He’s uncharacteristically silent as the two of you share breaths, each of you slowly floating back into your bodies. The only emotion you can really muster is shock - how is it that Johnny, your best friend turned biggest bully, just fucked you better than any man you’ve been with before? It feels, in some absurd way, unfair.

“We’ll have to talk about this,” you say quietly, once your heartbeat has almost evened out and your breaths are coming evenly.

Johnny only hums, one big hand moving down to hitch your thigh back around his waist, tilting your body so somehow even more of your skin is pressed against his. “Sure, bonnie,” he murmurs, voice half muffled from where his face is pressed into your hair. “Tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, Johnny,” you try, one hand resting on his ribs. “You broke into my house.”

“Hmm,” he hums, taking a deep breath of your scent and letting it out contentedly. “I’ll say sorry in the mornin’. Sleep now, though.” His voice is almost pleading, his grip on you tightening for just a moment, one hand behind your back and the other resting on your ass. You feel like a stuffed animal, but you’re too pleasure-sated to really mind.

“Alright,” you agree, settling into his hold fully and letting your mouth rest against his collarbone as your eyes flutter shut. “Tomorrow.”

#welcome back to: gratuitous use of italics #stealing my old kinktober tags for this one #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap smut #john mactavish smut #johnny mactavish smut #bo writes #soap mactavish smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #soap x reader #dark fic

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hummingbird-hunter · 2 years

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The journals of #0068, documenting their time in the Wizard Realm University

Wizard Realm – year 1

Finally in the Wizard Realm University :•DDD Not that I need to be here, really, but I think it's one of those places where those pesky Fae won't be following my every step.

Ehh, who am I kidding.

They'll probably still find a way to observe me. Not a semblance of privacy, really! But at least I wouldn't have to interact with one while I'm here.

There's no Fae here.

Like, at all.

Not specifically those Fae, but, like, Fae in general.

I think they think they're too good, too powerful to go somewhere and learn magic.

Well, I get that.

Like I said, I don't really need to go here.

For something that calls itself a "Wizard Realm" there is little to no actual wizards here. Various dwarves, shifters, merfolk, other little creatures that want to learn wizardry and then call themselves "Wizards", as if a fundamental part of who I am can be reduced to a mere profession.

Whatever.

The main thing is that now I am free to do my research in peace. The thing that bugged me for the millenia I've lived, now without the Fae to hinder me.

I am not yet sure what exactly am I looking for, but the gaps in my memory… Well, I suppose I should start with that.

Shit, I think I missed the orientation.

Whatever, doubt that there was anything important.

And why is the air texture so weird?

Wizard Realm – year 4

This stupid realm with the stupid classes and stupid fucking sky worms floating about their fucking sky wormholes >:•(

Can't even do my research properly without godsdammned library books trying to hex me three ways to hell!

Doesn't matter. I have time.

The only thing I have, really.

Fucking time.

All the time in the worlds. Even remember most of it.

Most.

Really, I should've started this research a millennium ago.

Well, better late then never, I guess. At least I'm going to keep this stupid journal. Just in case.

Hopefully, I won't need it.

But,

Just, in case.

Just in case.

Wizard Realm – year 15

wHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE >:•[

Have they never seen a clown before??? Listen, I am not a stranger to a little cannibalism between friends, but every other creature trying to cut off my leg because they "heard that clown meat is a delicacy" is where I draw the line! >:•[

Whatever, it's not like they can hurt me that easily.

Wizard Realm – year 15 – part 2

Those fools don't even know about clown skills

Wizard Realm – year 28

Finally. Almost three decades in, I finally actually started my research.

The results are… well, the results are null. Nada. Nothing.

It's not a disease, but I already knew that much. Don't have any other symptoms, other than the fucking memory gaps, and those don't seemingly have any pattern or some unifying trigger, or anything of that nature.

They seem, random, almost.

The longest one was twenty years. The shortest – a bit less than a week.

And I'm not even counting the ones that lasted less then a day. Fuck, those could just be a result of a head injury, or a bad hangover. I don't know if I should count them. Maybe?

How am I supposed to look for something, if I don't even know what I am looking for?

The Fae should know.

Of course they know. Not that they would ever tell me.

Maybe they're the ones doing it. A little sick joke they decided to play with my life.

Or maybe not.

Maybe they just just want to observe me losing my fucking mind.

I love watching things burn, too.

Another little thing that makes us similar, I suppose.

Wizard Realm – year 51

Hypothesis: Rainfall Beast Ailment

Wizard Realm – year 51 – part 2

Hypothesis result: negative. The memory gaps do not correspond with any particular weather pattern

Wizard Realm – year 69

Nice B•)

Wizard Realm – year 72

I met an interesting creature not that long ago.

A shifter, with little to no magic of her own.

And yet she wants to learn, she said. She wants to be a wizard, she said. She's going to be the best wizard in all of the multiverse, she said.

Funny.

I threw her into the snake pit.

Wizard Realm – year 72 – part 2

She survived.

Not unscathed, but alive nevertheless. Not resurrected, either.

Simply crawled out of the snake pit and started rambling about how cool my pocket dimension was, how interesting it was on the technical level, and how powerful I must be to create something so beautiful; started listing all the possible pranks and hijinks it can be used for.

Funny. In a good way.

And, it is nice to see your work being appreciated

:•)

Wizard Realm – year 113

If it's a curse, then there has to be some sort of trigger element to cause it.

Of course, it would be easier to figure out what it is if I could fucking remember it.

If it is one, it has to be so immaculately crafted, so masterfully hidden; able to activate in every realm and dimension.

Fuck, that doesn't make any sense either.

Nothing works everywhere. And even then, why? Why bother? No, this is way too complicated, and I don't have any enemies capable of such power. And even if I did, what's the point of erasing my memory? Why not just break my mind in a thousand little pieces and send every little piece through billion hells each?

So no, not a curse.

I don't get it.

Wizard Realm – year 134

Hypothesis: Brain-eating amoeba

Wizard Realm – year 134 – part 2

Hypothesis result: negative. No brain for amoeba to feed on

Wizard Realm – year 180

Got married :•)

Wizard Realm – year 180 – part 2

Got divorced :•)

Wizard Realm – year 198

The shifter girl asked me a question.

We've known each other for more than a hundred years, she said. And yet you've never told me your name, she said. You never asked, I said. And you've never told me yours.

You never asked, she said.

What's your name, she said.

I don't have one, I answered.

Why, she asked.

I didn't have a lie ready. People don't usually ask.

Fae, I said.

Ah, gambled it away then. Happens to the best of us.

Gambled it away, huh? I wouldn't say it happens to the best, but few would get judged for losing to the Fae. That's just how Fae are.

Gambled it away. Seems believable, at least. Maybe that's what I will use in the future.

Sure, I said. Gambled it away, i said. What's your name?

Maize, she said.

Charmed.

Wizard Realm – year 245

Maybe I'm doing this all wrong.

Maybe I shouldn't look for what or who is causing my memory to falter, but why.

Don't really want to spend a millennium researching only to find out, that yes, it is in fact the Fae doing it, by means that I already fucking know of but for reasons that I am no closer to uncovering.

Wizard Occams Razor or whatever that shit's called.

No, I need to find a way to find out what's connecting all the times I do not remember.

Looking through other people's memories? Seems like the only feasible option for now.

At least I haven't lost any memories while I've been here.

That's… good.

Wizard Realm – year 299

Hypothesis: Hangover

Wizard Realm – year 299 – part 2

Hypothesis result: negative. I don't drink that much

Wizard Realm – year 311

I've looked. I am looking.

At least I have something to look at.

I've found several different memories for almost each memory gap.

But they're situational. A fifteen-minute memory at most.

I mean, what else have I expected. It's me. All my interactions are situational.

Saying that, it is interesting seeing myself from the outside perspectives.

…

But it doesn't help me in finding the missing link.

Wizard Realm – year 420

Nice, I guess

Wizard Realm – year 455

Hypothesis: Seeing the true face of a God

Wizard Realm – year 455 – part 2

Hypothesis result: negative. Saw several Gods and their true faces. Resulted in temporary blindness, no memory loss

Wizard Realm – year 490

Maize showed me the Cursed Clover Fields.

I didn't even realise there was Cursed Clover here. I love clover.

You look tired, she said.

I am tired, I said. I've been looking. I've been looking so hard and yet I still don't understand! What am I missing? I said.

You're tired, she said.

You need to relax, she said.

C'mon, she said, I don't even recognise the person who threw me in the snake pit the first time we met!

I don't want to forget again, I said.

I know, she said, but in your pursuit to not forget again, you're not living a life that is worth remembering. You haven't forgotten anything since I've met you. But how many things do you remember?

Fuck you, I said.

You're right, I said.

Still, fuck you, I said.

I have an idea, she said.

I think you'll love it.

Wizard Realm – year 490 – part two

She was right. I did love it

A bit of magic, a bit of trickery, and the whole campus was filled with flesh-eating multicolored lightning bugs.

She was right.

I did love it.

I did also make her take the fall for it, as a little revenge for psychoanalysing me, but I got her out of the prison right before her Trial by The Very Big Hydra.

Thats the friend I know, she said.

I pushed her into the snake pit again

:•)

Wizard Realm – year 511

More than a half a millennium in the Wizard Realm, and I saw a fucking hummingbird.

Didn't even know that there are hummingbirds here.

Well, were. Definitely not anymore.

I am very good at what I do :•)

Wizard Realm – year 598

I showed Maize the Elevator.

She was amazed.

A-maize-d, hehe :•D

Of course, everyone knows about the magical wormholes that connect the magical dimensions, but not a lot of people are interested in the non-magical ones.

And the one that hosts the Elevator, known by the operators as "the Elevator Shaft", is the biggest one of all.

It connects every realm and dimension.Every? Maize said.

Yes, every. All of the Magic ones and all of the otherwise Powered, but also, all the non-magical ones, and even the anti-magical!

Cool, right? :•DDD

I showed her how the bits of the wormhole from Elevator Shaft to create non-magical bag of holding, or how I use the Shaft to open doors.

I swear, I could see stars in her eyes.

You're the most impressive person I've ever met, she said.

I know, I said. Of course I am. I was born like that, with both magic and skills both flowing where my blood could be. I am powerful, I said. It's my birthright.

That's not what I meant, she said. The Elevator isn't your birthright, neither is your hunt, and yet you show me the most unusual things I've ever seen.

The Elevator is just a part-time job, I said. And I just hate the little fuckers. This isn't unusual.

But it is, she said. Frankly, I couldn't care less about your birthright, she said. Your power is innate, sure, but so is your very punchable face, she said. That is not what i find impressive.

Fuck you, I said.

You love me, she said.

Eat shit and die, I said.

She laughed.

Wizard Realm – year 601

Fuck research.

I haven't forgotten anything yet, and it's been more than six centuries.

Maybe whatever erases my memory doesn't function in the Wizard Realm.

Or maybe whatever triggers the memory erasure hasn't happened yet.

I think, it doesn't matter.

It's been six hundred years.

It's not like I'm going to lose six hundred years.

I think I'll just let myself live.

:•]

Wizard Realm – year 666

Nice B•)

Wizard Realm – year 772

Tomorrow is seven hundred years since I met Maize.

I wish I would be the one to invite her somewhere on this day, but she already came up with something. She says it's a surprise.

Well, I do like surprises :•)

Wizard Realm – year 772 – part 2

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Wizard Realm – year 773

Tomorrow is one year since Maize died.

That's the thing, wizards don't just die forever, not even the taught ones!

Not like that, they just don't!

It is really, really hard to kill a wizard forever. And I know, I've killed a few in my lifetime. And it was fucking hard because wizards get revived and then you have to kill them again, or destroy the thing or person that's reviving them, and if that gets revived…

Well, wizards die all the time, but they don't die.

Fuck, Maize have died before! At least four times in the time that I knew her. But she got better. There was always either a faculty member to revive her, or the magic in the air made her inside organs regrow, or she just walked in off, but this time she just...

Didn't.

It was that lake, that fucking lake. The only non-controlled anti-magical thing in the whole Realm.

We were going to use the acid from the lake for another little practical joke, but

She just

Fell.

I thought she was pranking me when she didn't resurface.

Very funny, Maize, I said.

I'm not falling for that, Maize, I said.

Maize? I said.

Maize! I said.

When I got her body out of the water, she was dead.

It was fine, I thought. I'll just bring her to the faculty, I thought. They'll revive her, I thought.

As a wizard, I am a creature of Magic, but as a clown, I am also a creature of Mask.

Maize, even though she wasn't a Born Wizard, she was a shifter. A creature of Magic.

And soon there was nothing of her left to revive.

...

It's kinda funny. Almost three millenia of my life. I am one of the most powerful creatures by the right of birth, having both Magic and Mask inside me, and yet I've never learned how to revive.

I've never needed to revive anyone, really, most of the dead people I encounter I was the one to kill, and I don't remember dying myself, so i never had to learn how.

Maybe it is something I should learn.

...maybe I should just take time to mourn.

Wizard Realm – year 773 – part 2

I don't remember dying.

That is fucking it, isn't it? It's not that I've never died, I'm fucking almost three thousand years old, of course I have fucking died before.

It's that I don't remember dying.

Fuck, I've been told I've died before, but I just assumed I walked it off and wrote off the two hour memory loss on my hangover.

I've been told by a person I've never met before, how are you still alive? I killed you with my own two hands!, but I never fucking met them before so they probably mistook me for someone else and I am so fucking stupid.

It's my death. That is the trigger.

But why are the gaps all different in length?

I need to rewatch the memories of me.

Wizard Realm – year 780

I think I figured it out.

And it's really fucking simple.

I even found the person who claimed to have killed me.

They said we were friends. They said we were friends for twenty years. They said the whole twenty years they were quietly poisoning me with the only poison known to work on both Mask and Magic creatures.

They told me when it happened and how horrified were they to see me a millennium after, alive and healthy.

It was exactly the twenty years that was my longest memory gap.

I killed the fool of course.

And unlike me, they'll stay in the ground.

Wizard Realm – year 796

So that's it. I figured it out.

Yay.

Revisited all the places. All of the other people's memories. It all confirms it.

I lose my memories regarding my death, right from the point of finding myself in the situation that directly leads to it.

So, it seems if I buy a cursed amulet that kills me seven days after the purchase, I will forget all seven days.

…

For some reason, knowing that doesn't make me feel better.

I still don't know why, for one thing.

I am revived, obviously, so why would I need to forget my death?

I don't get it.

…I don't get it, but I know who does.

Wizard Occams Razor, yadda-yadda.

At least, now I know what to ask them.

At least I'm not going to rush in with tell me something but I'm not sure what.

At least I can just go up to them and ask why are you making me forget every time I die.

It's a gamble, of course.

There is still a chance it's not them, but, really, no one else has this kind of power.

Not over me.

I wish I could leave now, but…

It's four years until graduation.

Maize would want me to stay.

I wish you were here.

Wizard Realm – year 800

I let loose a Devil Tiger Goat during the graduation.

Maize would've loved it.

...

I'm meeting the Fae first thing after I leave this dimension.

Well, maybe I'll go to the Meadow first.

I remember there are clovers there.

After Wizard Realm – day first, day last.

They didn't tell me about the Fog.

Why wasn't I told about the Fog???

It's…

Funny thing about the Fog. You can only find it in the Wizard Realm. It only starts acting outside of it.

My head hurts

M̵y̶ ̷h̸e̴a̷d̷ḥ̷̦̌̎ư̷̙̂͋r̵̙͙̍̌̚̚t̴͕̝͕͙͊̆͋͝s̵̪̄ͅm̴̧̍̏̇̕ý̴̧̭̳̊͠ ̸̭͈̦̀h̵̼̺̀̀͜e̸͚̟͖̦͊̑a̷̦̠̋͝d̶̨̗̭̞̒̎ĥ̶͙͉͔̘̯̭͌͑́͝ù̷̦̜͉̘͐̀̽͆̑̔̏̈̃̍ṛ̵̮͈̜̺̈̽́̽́̕͝͝ṱ̵̨͓̥͇̺̥͓̳̪͍̜͇̲͕́̔̎̾͑͌̌̚͘͜s̸̨̛̟̘̆͆̀͐̔̋͌͋̅̆͛͆͝m̴̛̺̳̣̦̲̱̦͓̩̲̀̿̆̏̔̓̌̊͋̇͝ͅͅͅy̸̢̡̧̧̦̬̳̙͍͍͂͆̄̑̇̍̒̓́̎̄̑̈́͜͜h̵̼͔̔͋̓̏̿̐̅͒̾̋̆͠͠ȩ̵̮̯̣͖͚̥͖̠͙͌͌͒̿á̵̛̗͖͍̱̼̪̱̳̦͙̟̪̟̹̀͂͌͘͠͠ͅd̴̝̤̲͕̼̤̯̤̘͚̩͐͋̓̍̿͗́͒̔̾̿͐̀̕̕͝ͅh̵̢̢̨̧͙̪̮̲̞͈͖̪̜̩̪̞̣̜̰̪̞̻̲̫̻̤̲̲̝͉̜͑̚͜͜u̶̧̧̠̳̥̲̗̯͔̮͔͓̫̫̣̫͍͎̪͕͗͑̍͜ͅͅͅr̷̢̨̖̞̤̫̜̥̲̥̟͎̘͕̗͔͇͍͔̟̬͇̲̹͙̣͇̟̳͙̦̖̫͚̲͍͗̌͆̔͐̋̉̾̒̾͐̉̽͒͂͗́̈́͝ͅt̶̨̡̡̩͔̲̘̩̼̗̰̱͖̰͚͎̮̙͓̬̫̝̰̩͋̔́͊̾͊̾̎̂́͒̌̇̔̍̚͘ͅͅs̵̱̖̱͎̳͔̹̦̥̩͖̬̖̻̳̹̣̙̯̰̞̪̫͔͇͕͇̭̰͔̦͒̈ͅ

Fuck I need to go to the Fae I need to-

..why is the air texture so weird?

[The journal entries end here. On the journal, train track marks are seen]

#wizard #wizardposting #wizard posting #wizardclown #writing #creative writing #featuring my gratuitous use of italics #wizardclown lore #oc: Maize #oc: Hunter

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ivymarquis · 6 months

Text

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,�� he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #implied plus size reader #take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty #but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning #also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 20: You Were There

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV, Rosemary (OC) POV.

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.9K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just to be sure. Angst, Cursing, Fluff, References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

*********************************************************

Reader POV

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I’m not too heavy?” You ask cuddling into Ben.

He was leaning against the antique wooden headboard with you laying against chest, his body curving around your back where the two of you were entwined together. Your knees were pulled up in front of you, with Ben’s legs stretched out long on either side of your hips while the photo album you brought was perched on your thighs. His arms were wrapped firmly around your waist, head looking over your shoulder where you rested back against his toned stomach and muscular chest. He was warm and perfect, the hardness of his muscles contrasting against the softness of your curves, causing you to relax deeper against him as you laid there together, and making you feel like you belonged there with him, like he was made just for you and you were made just for him. You couldn’t remember feeling this relaxed in a long time and couldn’t believe that you forgot how good it felt to be in his arms.

It was the first time that the two of you had tried anything like this, besides the morning you woke up with him after your birthday with your head on his chest, the morning when you told him you loved him and everything fell apart. But you weren't thinking about that right now, you weren't thinking about Countess, or the past, all you were thinking about was being present in the moment with him. You thought that after everything that had happened in the past 24 hours you deserved that. You both deserved that.

The house was quiet, everyone had gone to bed except Rosie, who you knew was awake because you heard the gentle rustle of pages every few moments and you knew that she was reading one of those worn paper backs that she always carried around with her. Each weekend she would drag you and Lou to her favorite used bookstore, Inky's Inspirations, where she would browse through dusty shelves looking for treasures while Lou sat in the kids section flipping through the picture books giggling, and while you sipped an iced coffee and avoided the romance sections where there were countless Vought published Soldier Boy fictional romance novels. The ones that Stan Edgar and Legend thought would enhance Ben's image as America's Heartthrob and make him more “readily available” to the people of United States, and despite Ben’s initial protests, you knew that Ben liked them because no matter the book, the descriptions of Ben’s naked body were gratuitous.

Honestly the descriptions were rarely exaggerations. You think to yourself feeling the way Ben’s muscular body curves around you leaving very little to the imagination.

Well. Not exactly little. Your cheeks heat with the thought, heartbeat spiking and hoping that he couldn’t hear it.

But you figured that Rosemary needed at least a few pages to escape tonight.

No, I’m not thinking about her or what she snarled at Ben and I’m determined to make him forget it too.

So now you were focused on Ben, how he was holding you close, molding his body around yours and making you feel safer than you ever had. And although the two of you had shared a bed almost every night since you were ten, when you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms the next morning, this felt new. New because every loving kiss he pressed to your shoulder made you feel light, new because each time Ben moved or flexed you couldn't help but feel your cheeks warm, and new because every few moments you remembered that Ben genuinely wanted to be there with you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him and had loved you all these years.

“Sweetheart you’re not too heavy. You’re perfect.”

“Not everyone has super strength-“ You bite the inside of your cheek, plucking your thumb against the front cover of the photo album in your lap.

Ben adjusts you in his arms to pull you further on top of him. “It’s not about having super strength honey. You’re perfect. Have been since we were kids and you’re just as beautiful now as you’ve always been.” Ben traces his lips down your throat, beard scratching against the sensitive skin. He had kept his promise about keeping it just for you and you were definitely reaping the benefits. He moves his mouth slowly back upwards so he can brush them against the curve of your ear breath hot against your skin. "And I love having you on top of me doll."

A shiver travels down your spine. “But-“

“No buts. Well unless we’re talking about yours, which is really-.”

“Ben!” Your face turns bright red.

“What? You’re sexy as hell.” Ben purrs tightening his grip on your body, nudging his nose into the shadow of your jaw, and you feel his smile against your skin.

It's not a word that you had heard anyone use to describe you often. The one time you’d heard it was when you’d told Ben that you’d never been with anyone before. You were beautiful, cute, but never sexy.

However the night you and Ben slept together for the first time you felt it, felt sexy the whole night you were with him, powerful because it was you making him fall apart, your name on his lips, you touching him while he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

"Sweetheart?" Ben raises his hand from your waist to your chin, turning your face so you're looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" You whisper lost in the memory of what it was like for him to make love to you.

Probably shouldn't be thinking about that while I'm laying on top of him.

"How many others have there been?" He almost murmurs it, eyes soft in the warm light from the lamp on the bedside table. It was the same question he asked you when you stood outside Rosemary's apartment building, the one that you avoided.

You don't answer immediately.

"Are you afraid to tell me?" Ben whispers with a frown, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. "That you think I won't want you if you've been with someone else. That I won't love you anymore? That I'll leave you again?"

"Ben-" You breathe.

"I know that you're still trying to forgive me, and that's okay, but I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me or tell me things Sweetheart. I know you don't believe me, but I never want to leave you again. I want to be here with you." His gaze is earnest. "And I know you keep saying how much it'll hurt you if I leave again, but I swear that if you left it would destroy me."

"Ben-" Tears burn in your eyes with his confession, seeing how he was opening up to you, willing to push past what he'd been conditioned to believe from his father about sharing his feelings, to assure you further how much you meant to him.

His hand drags through your hair gently brushing it back from your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reach back over your shoulder, turning your face into his, noses nudging together as you kiss him.

“No.” He shakes his head softly. “I really love you.”

You snort, smiling into his mouth, your hand curling in his hair. “How is that different?”

“When I came back you said that I didn’t know what love was, but I do. Love is you. You make me so happy. I don’t remember being happy ever except when I’m around you. I’ve never loved anyone but you y/n. And I’m never going to love anyone else like I love you.”

“Ben-“ Tears crest and fall down your cheeks, but Ben brushes them away with his thumb.

“I would do anything for you without question. Nothing you ask me is too much. You mean everything to me. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it. I spent forty years without you and I don’t want to spend any amount of time away from you. I’m so sorry.”

“Ben we’ve already discussed your apology. You don’t have to apologize anymore.”

“I just still think I have to. I have to fix this.”

“You have.” You smile at him.

“Yeah?” He looks deeply into your eyes. Ben's arm tightens on your waist pulling you further back into his chest. “So you’re happy?”

The question makes you hesitate.

Am I happy?

You think about the past 24 hours, when Ben made you feel more loved than you’d ever had, when he acted like you were everything he ever wanted, when he made you finally believe that this wasn’t one sided, and when he reminded you of the boy you fell in love all those years ago. When even he was wearing his Soldier Boy suit, he was still looking at you to same way, speaking softly to you, and acting differently than he had. He was trying his hardest to make it up to you and you couldn't describe how wonderful it made you feel.

But then your thoughts shift to Rosemary and Homelander.

Truthfully you’d be happier if Rosemary liked Ben or at least could have a conversation with him without ripping his head off and you’d be happier if you weren’t hiding from Vought and Homelander at Legend’s but-

You focus again on the warmth swirling in the pit of your stomach as Ben holds you close to him, the buzz of love and care that comes with every breath and each kiss. And you answer honestly.

“I would be happier if all this shit with Homelander was over, but I am. Very happy.” You squeeze his arm where it lays over your waist with a soft smile.

“Good. That’s all I want for you. That's all I've ever wanted for you." The look in Ben's eyes breaks you, transports you back to the moment he asked you to come with him all those years ago. When he was the only one who understood that you weren’t happy that the future you had with Howard wasn’t the one you wanted.

"It's all I've ever wanted for you too Ben. You deserve that. You deserve more than you think you do and I want to give it to you."

“You have."

The kiss that follows consumes you, makes you burn, destroys you, and then remakes you. You cannot remember a single moment of your life that has felt this way. He is everything you want and something you thought you'd never have, but yet here he is holding you, proclaiming that he loves you, refusing to go, and you never want him to.

"There hasn't been anyone else." You whisper against his lips.

Ben's body freezes when you say that. "What?" Shock dances in his eyes.

"There hasn't been anyone else. Only you." You smile stroking your hands through his hair. "At first I was busy with Rosemary taking care of her and then by the time I started thinking about it again, it never felt right." You bite your lip, cheeks blushing with your confession. "There was an almost once, someone I knew from the gallery, another artist, but it didn't feel right to use him like that when I didn't feel anything for him. I've never felt this way about anyone else. And even with everything that happened, I still felt like a piece belonged with you. Maybe I should be embarrassed that I haven't since-"

Ben's mouth closes over yours so fast you don't have time to take another breath, one of his hands holding your face to his while the other wraps around your waist, hand splayed on your hip over your t-shirt your own hand covering his.

"All of you belongs with me." Ben moves his hands possessively over the curves of your hips. "Don't be embarrassed about that Sweetheart." He nips your bottom lip fusing his lips against your all over again, before raising his darkened eyes to lock with yours so intensely that it makes you forget how to breathe. "Because it means that I am your first and your only. That no man has ever touched you, ever made love to you, and that you are completely and utterly mine. As it should be." Ben's gaze meets yours and your cheeks flush as a shiver travels down your spine that he doesn't miss. "Just as all of me belongs to you."

He doesn't stutter, he doesn't look ashamed. He says it so simply, so irrevocably honest that it makes your chest tighten.

The weight of his words settle in the pit of your stomach. It was almost the same thing he had said to you the first time you slept together, and it was true, you were his, didn't want to be anyone else's. And for the first time you actually believed that he was yours and that was enough, he was always enough for you.

“Always.” You whisper back, searching his gaze again. And as soon as you say it you’re scared. A piece of you still waits for Ben to pull away from you, for him to suddenly go cold like he did the day that you told him the three little words that meant the world to you.

Why did I say that? It’s too soon. I should have waited. It’s-

And then Ben is kissing you again like he never wants to stop, breathing you in like a man gasping for air, holding you so tight against his chest that he thinks you’ll fade away to nothing in his arms, and smiling into your mouth as if kissing you is the most wonderful thing he can be doing.

Ben clears his throat lips brushing against yours again. "Sweetheart if you keep saying things like that, I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop. And I know that you want to wait."

Did I? Oh right I did. I did want that. Fuck.

"Yes." You murmur. "I do."

"Didn't sound too convincing there doll." Ben's smirk shifts into a smile, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he kisses you one last time. The heat of his skin was hypnotic, everywhere you were pressed against him felt like it would spontaneously combust. "But I don't want to make love to you if you don’t want me to-"

He stumbles slightly on the words ‘make love’ as if it’s difficult for him, grimacing slightly. But it made you smile. The fact that he was trying not to say 'fuck' meant the world to you. Because it meant that Ben really was trying to make up for the past, really trying to show you how much you meant to him.

"I want you to." You search his eyes, watching them darken with your words, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

You really did. Apart of you again was afraid that it was too soon, that you shouldn’t forgive him this easily for what happened, but deep down you knew that you had. You knew he had changed. You knew that what was happening between the two of you was different this time, that you were different and that he was different.

"I want you to make love to me. I want you to show me how much you love me and how sorry you are." You say, repeating what he said to you the night he came back into your life, continuing to stroke your fingers through the dark hair at the back of his head the way you know he likes earning a soft groan that rumbles up through his chest. "I want you to make me forget that night and forget the past forty years." You kiss him again, pulling back to look him in the eye again. "But I want you to make love to me in our home, in our bed. Not here in Legend's house where God knows what has occurred over the years. Not when we're on the run from Homelander. Not when we have to worry about everyone else hearing us.” Your cheeks flush at the prospect of Butcher or Rosemary hearing you and Ben, both of which had supe hearing.

Because that's exactly what she wants to hear right now.

“I want it to happen when things have calmed down a bit. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Ben cups your cheek with a gentleness you never knew he possessed. “You said our.” He breathes with a soft smile, causing your own to mirror it.

“I did. Because it is. It’s our home.”

“Does that mean I get to use the hot water?” Ben smirks.

“If you pay the rent I’ll let you do whatever you want.” You snort, but then suddenly realize the weight of what you’d said.

Ben’s eyes glint with his mischievous smirk. “I like the sound of that doll.” But leans his forehead against yours. “As much as I want Butcher to hear you scream my name," He breathes against you lips. “I’m happy to wait for you. Because I don’t want to rush this, don’t want to rush our time together at least not the first time after all these years. I want to take my time with you.” Ben brushes his lips against yours, thumb rubbing over your jaw to hold your face steady. “I want to savor you.”

Ben smirks wider feeling the shiver that travels down your spine. “Sounds like you’d like that doll.”

“Ben-“

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, beard scratching against your cheeks before working his way across your jaw. “That I excite you.” Ben raises his glittering green eyes to yours once more. “You excite me too.”

One of these days he’s going to kill me.

You sit there together for another few minutes, his hand cupping your cheek, forehead pressed against yours, lips occasionally finding one another, as your heart thuds madly in your chest and you find yourself unable to stop the happiness and warmth that circulates through your body. It felt dangerously similar to how you felt the morning you woke up next to him in bed the morning after your birthday when you couldn't stop yourself from saying that you loved him, but now you welcomed the feeling.

"Can I show you the pictures now?" You breathe.

"Yeah." Ben smiles against your mouth as he kisses you one final time, before leaning back against the headboard and releasing his hold on your face so you can cuddle into him with the photo album perched on your lap once more.

Truthfully your collection of photos had grown exponentially from the small box beneath your bed to a collection of photo albums that lined the bookshelves in your living room at home. This one you had grabbed on the way out of your apartment, shoving it into your suitcase as you went. It held a good amount of pictures from when Rosemary was born to when she got married, and you knew it would be a perfect record of the life Ben had missed when he was in Russia.

"Before I open this," You say quietly, leaning back into him. "I want you to know that I'm only showing this to you because I want you to experience what it was like the past forty years. It is not to make you feel bad for not being there. I want to share this with you, but if you're going to get upset, then I don't want to-"

"Please show me." Ben tightens his arms around your waist again, sitting his chin on your right shoulder so he can see the book perched on your knees.

The picture on the first page is you standing in front of a two story house built out of grayed boards with a collection of white painted wooden steps leading up to a beautiful porch where two wicker chairs sit. A large garden dominates the lawn on either side if the cobblestone path that you stand on which leads to the house behind you. Wildflowers, roses, sunflowers, lavender, daisies, and herbs explode all over the front lawn, curling onto the cobblestone path. You're smiling in the photo, hair loose and pushed back by a wind that Ben can't see, wearing a loose pair of jeans and a large t-shirt, that does little to hide your swelling belly. Standing next to you is an elderly woman, with gray hair pulled back in a bun under a large gardening hat, wearing a faded green dress, but smiling just as widely as you with her arm over your shoulders.

"When I left New York, I went North and ended up in Maine. It seemed like a good place to disappear. I had never been before and I found a woman, Melanie, who was renting out a room in her home. Her husband had died years ago, she never had any kids, and really no ties to the supe world.” You smile at the memory of the woman in the picture. Melanie had been more of a mother to you than yours ever had been, gently spoke to you, helped you through a dark part of your life when you found little to be happy about while pregnant with Rosemary. "It took her about ten seconds to realize that I was pregnant, but she never pried about my life or why I was there, what I was trying to run from. She was so different than the people we had been around all those years. She was kind, honest, and warm. She taught me how to bake, garden, and cook. She took care of me when I was struggling to find a reason to keep going. I owe so much to her. She was practically a grandmother to Rosie. Rosie loved her so much.”

"Is she-" Ben breathes softly.

"She died right before Rosie went to college and she left me the house."

"That one?"

"Mhmm. It's a bit different now, but mostly the way she left it. I had to remodel it a bit, it’s honestly almost as old as us.” You snort. “But we usually go for a few months every summer. It's about ten acres on the edge of a forest, with this beautiful forest path that leads out to a private beach. There’s no one for miles. The closest town is at least forty minutes away.”

"I want to see it some day."

"We'll go when all this calms down." You promise as you turn the page.

The next picture is of you standing on a chair holding a paintbrush, eyes focused on the wall in front of you. Your hair is pulled back in a red bandana, and you’re wearing a pair of paint splattered overalls, but you're definitely more pregnant in this picture. And you can't help but smile at the memory this picture brings. "I got this crazy idea to paint a mural on the nursery wall. Had to practically fight off Melanie so she'd let me stand on the chair."

"You shouldn't have been if you were that pregnant-" Ben frowns at you and you smile to yourself at his obvious urge to protect you even if he wasn’t there.

"Well how was I supposed to reach the top of the wall Ben? Not everyone is as tall as you.” You laugh. "It really was a nice mural of the forest outside. Melanie convinced me to do a smaller version on a canvas and have it displayed at the local art gallery. It was the first painting I ever sold. The first check I got that I actually felt like I earned."

You point at the picture next to it of you holding up a slip of paper and smiling wide at the camera. You had been so excited about it that you framed it, refused to cash it. It was still hanging on the wall at the house.

"But you earned money from Vought?" You could hear the confusion in his voice.

"It never felt like my money though. All I did was show up for pictures or appearances in malls or commercials and it never really felt real for me. But getting that check was really special, putting my name on something was real."

Ben presses a kiss to your shoulder. "I'm sorry you were so unhappy being a hero."

"I wasn't unhappy. I was just ready for something new. And I found it in Maine. But if this is making you sad I don't want to show you any more-"

Ben catches your wrist as you try to close the album. "I want to see."

The next picture is of you sitting out on the beach. You were wearing a one-piece red bathing suit, head tilted back in the sunlight, eyes closed drinking in the day. You were probably about seven months along and although you didn't like having too many pictures of you taken when you were pregnant, Melanie had insisted on this one and you liked it. Ben's body stiffens beneath you when he sees the picture, his hand moving from your waist to touch the page softly.

"You like that one?" You whisper.

"Yeah." He murmurs back eyes locked on the photo.

"Why? Because I'm practically naked?" You joke nudging your elbow back into his ribs.

"No. Well maybe a little." Ben's chuckle rumbles up through his chest against your back. "You look different. You're glowing."

"Shut up. Why is that a thing that men say to pregnant women? There is no glow. It's nine months of being so bloated and swollen you feel like a flotation device. Nine months of being so hormonal that you're not sure whether or not you want to laugh, cry, or just stay in bed for days. Nine months of wanting to puke your guts out. And don't get me started on the cravings, I'm pretty sure I would have eaten chocolate covered spiders one day if a traveling salesman showed up on the front porch toting a box!"

Okay. Maybe I'm ranting a little bit.

"It's true sweetheart. And I like the picture, because you look happy." His breath is warm against your ear.

"I was. Everything about being there felt right. I was always relaxed, I felt like I could breathe again, and I found myself there. I really needed that after everything." You lay your hand down where Ben's arm's rests on your waist. "Whenever I go back I always feel that way. I always paint better and feel more creative, just something about that house is almost magical." Your cheeks flush. "I know that sounds stupid."

"No." Ben breathes. "It's not. Why do you live in the city if you like it so much there?"

"Because Rosie lives in the city. Her job is there and they're the only family I have left. I don't want Lou to grow up without having me in her life. And I like being in the city. I like my studio, but sometimes it's nice to go to the house in Maine and forget for a little bit."

The picture on the next page is of you sitting in your bed at the house, holding a baby wrapped in a knitted pink blanket in your arms, smiling down at Rosemary like she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And she was. Melanie had delivered her, you were afraid to go to a hospital because you didn’t want the possibility of someone recognizing you and having an announcement in newspapers. Holding Rosie for the first time was bittersweet, because you were so happy and yet there was a sadness that settled over you. At first you couldn't place it, but now sitting here with Ben you understood what it was. You were sad that he wasn't there to hold her too, sad that he was missing this. Of course back then you thought that he was dead and that the only piece of him that you had left was in your arms.

"I like that one too." Ben mutters leaning further over your shoulder to get a better look.

"The first time I held her. She was so little and I was always afraid that I was going to hold her too tightly and hurt her." You smile. "Melanie delivered her. I didn’t want to go to a hospital and risk someone recognizing me. Honestly she was such a big help after, let me have a few moments of rest whenever everything got to be too much. And I was so tired for so long-"

"I'm sorry."

"Ben what did I say about you apologizing for things out of your control?" You press a kiss to his cheek where he is leaning over your shoulder, his beard tickling against your lips.

"I know. I just, I still wish that I could have been there."

“Honestly, you kind of were.”

Ben looks confused. “What?”

“Rosemary’s just like you Ben. When she was younger, she’d get this mischievous look in her eye and I knew that trouble was coming. It was the same one you always had right before you got us in trouble back in Philadelphia. I don’t even want to think about the teen years. And the college ones, forget it.” You groan. “Lou gets the same glint in her eye sometimes. I’m sure you’ll see it.”

“I think she’s like you.”

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“I mean sure she’s got my hair and my eyes, but she’s strong. She doesn’t bend easy. Stubborn-“ Ben smiles.

“You’re stubborn-“

“Not like you.”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes at him.

“She’s got your smile.” Ben traces his thumb over your lips, cupping your chin gently. “And she’s just as beautiful as you.”

You flush with the compliment. “She's got your protective instincts. She doesn’t let anything slide.”

“I’ve noticed.” He frowns and it makes your heart break for him.

“I promise one day she’ll warm up to you.”

“I know. I just wish it was today.” Ben sighs, brushing your hair back from your face. “Was it hard to raise her alone?”

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly. “But Melanie helped a lot.”

“I’m so-.” Ben begins.

“If you say I’m sorry one more time I swear I’m going to kick you out of this bed!” You joke, but you both know the threat holds no power. Not when it feels this good to be in his arms.

“You're here now." You whisper, softly running your hand over where his arms hold you tight against him. "And that's all that matters to me."

He turns his face to look at you, chin still on your shoulder, green eyes so soft they remind you of grass on a warm summer day. "I don't want to be anywhere else Sweetheart."

"Good." Your heart flutters in your chest, and Ben smiles when he hears it, his own thudding in his chest against his rib cage so hard you can feel it where it's pressed against your back.

And this time as you begin to fall, you know that he's going to catch you.

*************************************************

Rosemary POV

Rosemary tried to read through her book, tried to drown out the sound of her mother and her supposed father in the lower parts of the house with the smooth flow of words on the written page in front of her, but she couldn't. She found herself reading the same sentence over and over again while Lou slept in the bed beside her, her small body curled into a ball wearing her favorite pink polka dot pajamas beneath the gaudy bright red and gold comforter that only a man would choose for a bedroom.

Legend was exactly as she remembered him, eccentric like an old rich uncle that you'd never met but somehow remembers to send you a check each year for your birthday. But she could see how much Legend cared about you and that made him family, distant family, but still family. She knew what Legend had done for you after Ben left, how Legend had helped you through the weeks that followed Ben's death, helped you close all your bank accounts, and help you vanish without a trace. He kept your secrets from Vought and didn't question when you had showed up again toting someone you said was your cousin, but looked like Ben.

Rosemary sighs, hands tightening on her book as she listens to Ben and you talk quietly in the basement. She heard every word that Ben said to you, every promise that he made, every kiss that he laid on your lips.

The truth was, Rosemary didn't want to hate him and maybe she really didn’t, but she was still angry.

When she was a child her imaginary friend was Ben, or rather the version of Ben that you told her about, the one that was always there for you as a child, who climbed in your bedroom window, and the boy who was your best friend. Although she had you, Rosemary was lonely, not allowed to go to school with other children because of her abilities, not allowed to make friends until she was older, and not allowed to go into town. She didn't resent you for that, she understood that you did those things to protect her, just as she did those things to protect Lou, but to get through those lonely days she spoke to Ben or rather the version of him that lived in her head.

The one that was kind, who laughed at her jokes, sang with her to bad karaoke songs, who danced with her in her room to songs that you yourself called "noise" and looked at every one of the ridiculously bad paintings that she created and lied, telling her that they were masterpieces.

But that version didn't exist. And the real version she met a few hours ago was not what she expected. He looked, normal, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with his dark hair falling forward into his eyes. Soldier Boy looked just like anyone else you'd see on the street, handsome yes. Anyone could see that.

Whenever you would leave the house to go to the grocery store and Melanie was asleep, Rosemary would sneak into your bedroom, lounge on your bed and look through your box of photos. Seeing the ones of you as a child with your own mother, seeing the ones of her grandparents together, the photos of Ben and you together as heroes, and finally the yellowed collection of photos from a photobooth of Ben and you as teenagers smiling and laughing. She loved that collection of photos, loved how happy you looked with Ben, and loved how happy he seemed to be. It was one of the only pictures you had of the two of you as children that Rosemary could find, but that made it all the more special to her.

She wanted you to be happy. And before you had told her the story of what happened between you and Ben, Rosemary, as a child, had imagined Ben showing up after all those years, walking up the worn front steps of the house that always creaked, through the front screen door that always slammed no matter how softly you shut it, and into the house so the three of you could be a family.

All children want that. Want a family that feels whole.

And although Rosemary never met Ben before she had the oddest feeling as a child that there was something missing. She hoped that Lou didn’t feel that way about her family.

Rosemary sighs and allows her book to fall down on her chest, trying not to think about the photos or Ben or her mother. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes all she saw was you standing in the hallway outside her apartment holding the hand of the man who ruined your life, who abandoned you and broke your heart.

How can she just forgive him like that? How can she just pretend that nothing happened? That he didn't break her? That he didn't say any of those things?

Rosemary couldn't understand and deep down underneath it all, she was afraid. Not of Ben, she didn't believe that he would physically hurt you, if he did or tried to she would rip him in half, but of what he could do to you.

She could see how different you were and he'd only been back in your life for a day. She saw how you looked at him, how you seemed to smile more, how you seemed to almost shine when he looked at you. She'd never seen you look so utterly and completely happy before. Sure you'd been happy, but it didn't mean that Rosemary didn't worry about you, because she did. She worried that you were lonely, that you weren't allowing anyone into your life because you were still broken, and she could see the cracks that you tried to hide from everyone else, the cracks that had been there as long as she'd known you, the same ones that Ben left behind when he threw you away like you meant nothing to him.

The problem Rosemary saw when she looked at you now, is that she could see those cracks slowly fading, and she was worried what would happen if Ben abandoned you again.

Maybe that's why she couldn't forgive him, because of how easy it was for him to treat you that way.

Rosemary stops to listen to you talk softly to him about the life you and Rosemary had and could hear the telltale flip of the pages of the photo album.

Even though she was angry with Ben, she couldn't believe how patient he was being with you. How softly he looked at you, how he never took his eyes off of you, not in a possessive way, but in a protective way, like he was willing to throw himself in between you and whatever or whoever tried to hurt you.

She also wasn't expecting to look so much like him. Sure Rosemary had seen pictures, watched every single one of Soldier Boy's films, music videos, and commercials to learn more about him. But in person was different.

Rosemary sighs, drumming her fingers against the cover of the book on her chest.

She just didn't want you to get hurt again, didn't want him to hurt you, didn't want to let Ben into her life either if he was just going to vanish all over again.

Rosemary's eyes drift to where Lou sleeps silently. She wasn't happy with how comfortable Lou was getting around Ben, because again, if Lou started to rely on him too and Ben just left it would break Lou.

She huffs out a breath, settling down into the unfamiliar bed. Her thoughts drift to Homelander. Rosemary wasn't afraid of him, one touch would make her just as unstoppable as him, but she was worried about you.

She was always worried about you. When you told her that you were going to Russia to get Ben, Rosemary felt her heart stop. She didn't want you to go alone, and she certainly didn't want you to expose yourself to the world, not after everything she had done to keep you hidden.

Rosemary's jaw tightens. There were things she hadn't told you, things that she did to protect you just as you had protected her and Lou, things that if you ever found out wouldn't understand. Sacrifices were necessary and a deal had to be made to ensure that you were safe.

And now that Ben was back and Homelander knew about you, Rosemary wasn't sure how long those secrets could stay hidden.

*********************************************

Soldier Boy POV

Ben trailed his hand softly up and down your back holding you closer to him where you were laying on his chest. Your head was directly over his heart, hair fanning out behind you, breathing evenly while you slept.

Ben smiled to himself. It was better than he remembered. Ben could feel any anger he still had about the past fading with each breath you took. While your soft sighs and the gentle beat of your heart lulled him into a calm that he hadn't felt in forty years.

He couldn’t remember a time where he felt so happy, but he knew that it was probably the last time he held you like this. The morning that you told him you loved him and all he wanted was to say it back to you.

Ben tenses for a moment as the shame comes back over him in a never ending wave as he thinks about what he did to you, but now it’s lessened. You said that you’d forgiven him, and Ben believed you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything he could to make you happy everyday the rest of your life.

The sunlight was peaking through the floor length curtains on the edges of the room, sending a gentle light over the bed.

But he didn't want to wake you up, not yet, not when you were holding on to him like you thought he would vanish, not when you looked years younger in the sweet relief of sleep, and not when Ben wanted to stay in bed just a little longer.

This was exactly what he wanted every day for the rest of his life, to exist here with you, feeling your soft curves against his broad chest, hearing your heart beat steadily in your chest, and feeling your hair tickle just under his chin. It was what he dreamed about when he was in the lab, getting back to you, being with you again, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers ever again.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he can stop himself continuing to rub your back just as gently as he had before.

You sigh softly, mouth twitching into a smile as you cuddle further into him, the arm you have thrown over his chest tightening just for a moment.

Someone knocks at your door and before Ben can do anything, Rosemary walks in.

“Mom I need to talk to you about-“ She stops, eyes focusing on Ben and your intimate position.

Could be worse. We could be naked.

Ben’s not sure what to do. He hadn’t expected her to hate him so much, hadn’t expected her to have the reaction she did as soon as she laid eyes on him for the first time.

At first he had been frustrated with himself for not being there angry because he had been away from you when you needed him the most. And when he realized how much Rosemary hated him, he’d turned that frustration on you. Yelled at you because you’d told Rosemary what had happened between the two of you.

He hadn’t meant to do that again, to lose his temper like that. Not to mention he figured that Rosemary could hear everything that he’d shouted at you.

He understood that he needed to calm down and give her time, but he wanted her to like him and he knew that he wasn’t the most patient person. He was trying to be better for you.

He’d never liked his old man and look how he’d ended up? He didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with his kid, and especially didn't want to have that kind of relationship with Rosemary because he saw how close you were with her. And he worried that if he couldn't get Rosemary to like him that you'd pull away from him, push him out of your family and then he'd be alone all over again.

She said that it was your family too.

Ben thought to himself remembering last night, when you showed him what the past forty years had been like while curled up against him. He remembered every photo, every story you told him, while you smiled, kissed him and made him feel like he was there with you all those years. He wished he was, but it was the next best thing, because you weren't looking at him like you were afraid he was going to leave, you were looking at him the same way he remembered the morning after you made love and it made him feel hopeful.

But right now watching Rosemary frown at him and you, that hope was sizzling up like an egg on a hot day.

"Um. Good morning." Ben half-smiles, but Rosemary doesn't return it.

You begin to stir on his chest, squeezing him just a little harder as you do as if to reassure yourself that he's there, before you blink open your eyes to stare at him.

Ben's gaze flicks down to yours.

"Morning." You sigh happily, pressing a kiss to his chest right over his heart and nuzzling your face into his soft t-shirt. For a moment Ben forgets that Rosemary is standing there and can't help but smile back at you.

"Morning Sweetheart." He whispers, brushing back some of your hair from your face.

Rosemary clears her throat loudly, before crossing her arms over her chest.

Ben watches you realize that she's there. You sit up and turn towards the doorway that leads into the basement bedroom.

"Rosie hi." Ben can hear the anxiety in your voice and he hates it. He wanted to let you asleep just a little longer so you didn't have to deal with this so soon.

"I have to talk to you."

"Oh okay." You sit up and adjust so that you're sitting beside Ben rather than on top of him. "What is it?"

Rosemary's eyes flick to where Ben is sitting next to you. "Alone."

Ben feels his chest tighten when she says that and tries to fight the sigh that builds behind it.

Can't she see that I'm trying to make up for everything? That I am trying to be better than I was?

He can feel the anger and frustration coming back, washing away the calm he felt when he woke up with you on his chest, causing his feelings of happiness to evaporate once more.

You glance over at Ben for a second, with an apology in your gaze, before you look back at Rosemary. "Okay. Give me a minute. I'll meet you on the porch."

"Sure." Rosemary waits a second as if there's something else she wants to say, but she thinks better of it and leaves, her footsteps soft against the stairs.

"Ben I'm sorry-" You begin to say, but he sighs.

"It's alright Sweetheart."

But deep down it doesn't feel alright, and Ben can't help but feel a little disappointed by all of this.

"Baby." You whisper, touching his cheek softly to turn his face to yours.

He's never prepared for the way it feels when you touch him, even just the slightest brush of your fingers against his skin sends him into overdrive. It's never been this way with anyone, just you, and he never wants to get used to the way your touch makes him burn.

"I know when you're lying." You press your forehead against his, and Ben can't help but wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him.

"I know."

"I promise that this is going to get better. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a little bit?" You nudge your nose against his, smiling against his mouth.

"Yeah. I think I'll take a shower."

"Good, because you're still smell like drywall and smoke."

"Shut up." Ben rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smile.

"But-" You press your lips against his, making his entire body feel like it's on fire, your lips soft and supple against his, making a pleasant buzz vibrate in his chest. "You also smell a little bit like me."

"You like that doll?" He murmurs.

"I fucking love it." You kiss him one more time, tangling your hands in his hair, fingers brushing against his hair just like you know he likes and he can't help but groan softly.

Sometimes he didn't believe that you were real, that you cared enough to pay attention to what he liked, that you remembered everything about him, and that you saw all the pieces of him that he tried to hide beneath the bravado he forced himself to adopt long ago so that he was the version of the man his father wanted him to be. But now he wanted to be the man that you wanted him to be and he would be.

And somewhere deep down he knew, that you just wanted him to be him, and that would be enough.

****************************************************

A/N: It's a whole lot of fluff until the ending and I'm so sorry for how sad it got. But hopefully in the coming chapters Rosemary really will try to get to know him and will try to forgive Ben.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

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Text

Hungry For Heaven

Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance

His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his.

Sort of.

Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl.

It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.

“You’re not staying much later, are you?”

Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.”

You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.”

Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.”

You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.”

His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”

“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.”

You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag.

“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?”

Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.”

Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?”

“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.”

Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots.

He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row.

Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

He knew that.

But he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.”

The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip.

Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”

And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest.

It was fine.

This was fine.

He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.

“Are you coming?”

Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.

Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’

He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :(

Dammit.

“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too.

Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men.

And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.”

(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.)

The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by.

Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology.

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night.

“Cognac, please.”

The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?”

Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab.

Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere.

Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight.

As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken.

Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile.

Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded.

Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group.

You.

God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.”

Of course it did.

The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand.

“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.”

The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.”

You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.)

He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic.

“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.”

“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”

“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.”

“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable.

The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.”

You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.”

“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.”

“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”

The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!”

“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.”

She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.”

You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.”

There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face.

The grip on his drink was near painful now.

You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year.

“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.”

“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before.

Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly.

“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”

“That is a terrible pun.”

“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”

“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.”

You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?

“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.”

“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.”

Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor.

Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?”

Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened.

“A-Admiral Cain.”

Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease.

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.”

“Oh?”

Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”

Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.”

The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.”

“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear.

Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.

“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”

Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.”

“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.”

Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.”

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him.

“We are just about to leave-”

“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!”

The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed.

You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools.

You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar.

“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.”

The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing.

You're in danger, the last of a line

But the vision lasts forever…

The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t.

“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.”

He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing.

The young just getting older

We are sunlight

We can sparkle and shine

And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you.

He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him.

Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…

And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse.

He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober.

He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.

You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips.

Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue.

He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”

The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth.

He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight.

Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door.

“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.”

Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek.

Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down.

“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.”

Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday.

Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too.

Beau couldn’t wait.

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#top gun rocktober #Beau Simpson x reader #beau cyclone Simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #tgm fic #tgm #female reader

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phdmama · 3 months

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Hey lovely, how about 43 from the smut dialogue list if you’re still looking for inspo - and maybe buddie as the ship? (I may have started reading a few fics and it might be about to become a problem…) but any ship that takes your fancy if you’re prefer!

Hello my dear pal!! I am so so excited you're reading some Buddie!! xox

I am so sorry this took this long to write (I've had some real rollercoaster ups and downs over the past few days with this silly broken leg bullshit). So anyway - here is where my brain went! (Keep in mind, I am lots of painkillers and have barely written in months!)

43. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

Show My Mouth (Your Favorite Places)

Buddie, ~2300 words, Explicit tags: getting together, first time, Eddie Diaz has yet another close call, gratuitous use of italics, only lightly beta'd by me, set somewhere vaguely post season 7ish?

They’re barely through the door of Buck’s loft and Buck immediately has Eddie backed up against it, reaching out to run a hand over Eddie’s chest.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says again, and yeah, okay, it’s probably the tenth time he’s repeated the words but that was too close a call, and Buck says as much as Eddie tips his head back against the door, his eyes closed.

“Take your shirt off,” Buck says, reaching for the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s dirty and torn and Eddie doesn’t protest, doesn’t even open his eyes, just lifts his arms and lets Buck pull the rough fabric over his head.

“If you wanted to get me out of my clothes, all you had to do was ask,” Eddie says and Buck freezes.

“I just. I need to see you’re okay,” he says finally, and Eddie just smiles.

“Help yourself. I told you, the thing barely grazed me.”

Buck doesn’t answer, just flips on the light and runs his hands lightly over Eddie’s chest. There are some scrapes, a few spots that will probably bruise, but Buck has to admit Eddie is probably right, the damage is superficial. Buck doesn’t really pay attention to what his hands are doing, caught in the memory of the way the tree had come down and for one, brief, terrifying moment he’d thought… He’d thought. That’s all.

He’s still thinking, lost in it when Eddie says, his voice rough, “Buck.”

“What?” Buck startles back to the moment and realizes he’s been, well.

He’s been gently stroking Eddie’s bare chest, and Eddie’s eyes are open now, dark and intense, fixed on Buck’s face. His skin is slightly goosebumped and his nipples are tight buds on his broad chest. Buck rips his gaze away and swallows, his throat dry.

He’s worked so hard to just be chill, is the thing. After he and Tommy broke up (no real drama, just Tommy gently letting him down), Buck has been so, well. Aware of men, is the thing. Men in general and one man in particular. Buck knows he’s been weird about Eddie from the very beginning, and he knows Eddie is just as weird about him, and there have been moments where he’s thought… maybe… but he’s never been sure. Never seen a look on Eddie’s face like the one currently leveled at him.

“Are you, um. Are you cold?” he whispers and Eddie’s mouth curves.

“Not even a bit,” Eddie says, and his voice is so low and gravelly, it legitimately sends a shiver down Buck’s spine.

“Are you in pain?”

Eddie just shakes his head, not breaking his gaze.

“I, just.” Buck’s heart is pounding. It feels like an avalanche in his chest, and under his hands, he can feel Eddie’s heart racing, just as fast. “Eddie,” Buck says, his voice pleading, although he doesn’t even know what it is he’s asking for.

Eddie knows though, the way Eddie always knows.

Eddie simply replies, “Buck,” and then lays one hand over one of Buck’s where it’s still resting on his bare skin.

For one brief, agonizing moment, Buck worries that Eddie is pushing his hand away, but it immediately becomes clear that's not what’s happening. Eddie is not pushing Buck’s hand away, he’s pushing it down. Eddie slides Buck’s hand down over his own toned abdomen, slowly enough that Buck can feel the expansion as Eddie takes a deep breath, and then, oh god. Then he shifts Buck’s hand even lower to where he’s hard in his LAFD sweats.

Buck stares at him as Eddie presses his hand to the hard length of him under the rough cotton. “Eddie,” he whispers.

“I’m not cold,” Eddie says quietly. “I’m not in pain. I don’t need you to fuss over me.”

“Then what,” Buck swallows. “What do you need?”

Eddie just grins, and he lifts the hand that’s not pressing Buck’s against his cock to curve it around Buck’s face.

“I think you know,” is all he says and Buck breaks.

He surges forward, tightening his fingers around the hard shaft under his hand as he pushes forward, his mouth landing on Eddie’s. Buck is frantic, gasping as he lets himself go, lets himself take what he’s been longing for for so long. He’s afraid that this might be his only chance, that if he takes his time, Eddie will change his mind.

But Eddie doesn’t seem inclined that way. He meets Buck in the middle, strength for strength, passion for passion, kiss for kiss, until he begins to gentle things between them.

Eddie pulls back, and whispers, “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

He leans back in and this time he sets the pace with deep, slow kisses, syrupy-sweet, until Buck thinks his knees might genuinely give out.

“Buck,” Eddie whispers and shifts, letting his mouth move over Buck’s face to his neck, a quick nip to the sensitive skin behind Buck’s ear that has Buck groaning and shaking. “Buck, baby. Let me take you to bed.”

“Too far,” Buck mumbles, turning his head to catch Eddie’s lips with his own. “Can’t wait.”

“Couch then,” Eddie insists and doesn’t stop kissing Buck, just gently herds him backwards through the apartment until Buck’s dropping onto his couch and pulling Eddie down with him.

For several moments, Buck doesn’t think about anything at all except the feel of Eddie’s chest against his own, the taste of Eddie’s mouth, Eddie’s hand in his hair as they kiss. He finally has to pull back to take a deep gasping breath, and just stares at Eddie over him.

“Is this… is this really happening?” Buck finds himself asking and Eddie grins, drops a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

“It is if you want it to be.”

Buck just blinks at him. “I didn’t know. How did I not know you wanted this?”

Eddie shrugs, shifts his weight off of Buck so he can pull Buck up to sitting. “Let’s just say… when you started dating Tommy, I figured a few things out.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Of course not, Buck. You and Tommy, well. You were happy. Having fun. I didn’t think this was possible, but then when you guys broke up, and we were back to hanging out all the time. I started to think that maybe…” his voice trails off as he hooks his fingers under the hem of Buck’s t-shirt and starts to remove it.

Buck automatically lifts his arms. “Have you ever… with a guy?”

Eddie just smiles, shakes his head. “Never let myself even think about it when I was young, and then. I guess it was just never the right time. Until now.” He lifts his hand, brushes his knuckles across Buck’s cheekbone, skates his hand down to curl it around Buck’s jaw. “I want to, though. With you, if you want that.”

Buck stares at him. “If I want that? Eddie. Of course I want that. I just. What does it mean?”

Eddie leans in, kisses him once and then again. He feels so good that Buck can’t help but groan as Eddie’s mouth moves to his collar bones as he slowly pushes Buck down onto his back, slides between his legs.

Eddie lifts his head after pressing one last kiss to Buck’s chest. “It means whatever you want,” he says finally.

“But,” Buck is compelled to ask, “what if it changes everything?”

Eddie laughs, low and rough. “Of course it’ll change everything, Buck, and I want that. I don’t think it’ll take anything away though. It’s just another way for me to love you, and I already do, so…”

He pauses and Buck grabs him by the shoulders.

“Up, up, up here now,” he says frantically, suddenly sure that if he can’t kiss Eddie immediately, he may genuinely die.

Eddie snickers and Buck realizes he’s said that last part out loud. Then Eddie’s mouth is back on him, and Buck stops thinking at all.

He’s aware that this is Eddie’s first time with a guy (and holy hell, that’s a thought so hot that Buck’s brain might melt out of his ears) but there’s nothing in the way Eddie’s moving against him that suggests any hesitation about what they're doing. He lines them up, hard cocks pressed together, both of them still in their sweatpants, and sets up a slow, filthy grind. It’s good, so fucking good, that all Buck can do is wrap his legs around Eddie, grab onto his shoulders, and hold on.

Eddie’s kissing him again, those same deep, slow kisses, his tongue fucking into Buck’s mouth in counterpart to the way their bodies are moving together. Buck’s got his hands firmly planted on Eddie’s ass now, and it’s just as spectacular as Buck always thought it would be, especially with Eddie gasping into his mouth, sexy punched out groans that bring Buck closer and closer to the edge.

“How do you…” Buck starts and then shudders at a particularly innovative shift of Eddie’s hips. “Eddie, fuck, how…”

“How what, babe?” Eddie whispers against his lips, not letting up on the way he’s rolling his hips for even a moment.

“How do you want to come?” Buck finally grits out, holding on by sheer force of will now.

The question seems to surprise Eddie and he eases up now, rocking his hips so slowly as he considers Buck’s face.

“I mean,” Eddie says and then a wicked grin crosses his face. “You’re the expert here, Buckley. Walk me through it. What are the options?”

Buck stares up at Eddie and then can’t help himself, starts to laugh, deep belly laughs as his head drops back onto the couch cushions. “Not an expert,” he gasps finally, and sweeps his hands from where they’re resting on Eddie’s shoulders down his arms to his wrists and then back up again, to link his fingers behind Eddie’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. “Journeyman at best.”

Eddie is still grinning and rolls his eyes affectionately. “Fine. Journeyman. Whatever.”

Buck kisses him again, reaches down to grab Eddie’s hips and pulls them flush to his own, before working his way down Eddie’s neck.

“Lots of options,” he mumbles into Eddie’s collar bones.

Eddie is grinding against Buck harder now, gasping, and Buck can taste the sweat on Eddie’s chest under his tongue.

“We can keep doing this,” Buck manages to say and then groans at the way Eddie feels. “Fuck, that’s so. Oh my god, Eddie.”

“What else?” Eddie pants.

“I could… oh shit, Eddie, I could.” Buck swallows, his own breathing ragged in his ears. “I could suck you, jerk you off, whatever you want. You could fuck me,” and Eddie goes rigid above him, head thrown back, tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief as he lets out the sexiest sound Buck has ever heard, and Buck feels Eddie’s cock jerk as he starts to come.

For a long moment, the silence in the room is broken by the harsh sounds of Eddie’s breathing. Then Eddie opens his eyes, and the look on his face cracks Buck’s heart wide open. Eddie looks astonished, awed almost, as if his entire worldview has been shaken, and maybe it has, Buck thinks, remembering some of his own recent revelations. Maybe it has.

Eddie stares down at Buck as his breathing starts to settle, and the weight of him pressing Buck into the couch is as intoxicating as it is reassuring. There’s something so raw and honest about this moment — the way Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Buck’s face, the damp heat between them, the smell of sex intermingled with the scent of the peonies Buck bought at the Farmer’s Market the other day. Buck feels like every sense he has, and maybe some he didn’t even know about, are dialed all the way in.

“Buck,” Eddie breathes and his smile makes Buck’s throat tighten and his eyes prickle suspiciously. “My god, Buck.”

Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss across Buck’s lips, gentle and sweet, but as he does so, the extra pressure on Buck’s aching cock makes him hiss, his hips jerking up not of his volition.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie says, and without further ado, slides down Buck’s body and sticks his hand down Buck’s pants.

It doesn’t take long after that. Objectively, it’s nowhere near the best handjob Buck’s ever had — Eddie’s hand is dry, his grip a bit too tight, and his rhythm isn’t great, but none of that matters because it’s Eddie staring down at him, Eddie whispering things like “God, Buck, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart, c’mon baby, give it to me,” and Buck is helpless to do anything but obey.

It feels to Buck like his orgasm is being drawn out from the very depths of his being, starting deep in his belly and rolling over him like the tide, inevitable and inexorable. Eddie keeps muttering words of encouragement, and when Buck’s head tilts back and his back arches, Eddie grins in satisfaction.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Just like that.”

It turns out Eddie is mistaken. They clean up, make some dinner, collapse on the couch with their food and beers, and it’s no different than any other normal post-shift hangout. In the morning, Eddie good-naturedly submits to the ice packs Buck presses against his bruises, lets Buck make him coffee and bring it to him on the couch. No different from any other close call aftermath.

But Eddie’s never spent the night at Buck’s like that. Never brushed his teeth side by side with Buck before crawling into bed, wrapping himself around Buck like an octopus, the bare skin of his chest pressed to Buck’s back, his hand resting possessively on Buck’s hip. He’s never brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin at the nape of Buck’s neck. And he’s never said I love you quite like this before. So yeah, it turns out that he was also 100% correct. It changes everything.

And it’s amazing.

#buddie fic #prompt fic #my writing #to be archived #thank you love!! xox #hope this is okay #yes it's pretty cliched but hey!#I wrote something!

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tboybot · 1 year

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every time there’s an exodus from another social media site to tumblr, the vibes on here are fascinating.

I like when longtime accounts post guides and tips with tons of italics and gratuitous fucks and shits. it is so cute and I love it. it’s like watching a camp counselor running off nothing but cliff bars and Red Bulls who only just starting swearing out loud six months ago reading out the rules to a bunch of veteran campers. like I’m sitting here in my bunk like awwww I’ve been hearing some of these rules since 2009 but I really like kelsey’s enthusiasm, go team orange owls 2023 (Kelsey let’s us say orange FUCKIN owls after lights out)

#twitter exodus #twitter refugees #tumblr etiquette #reddit #reddit blackout #reddit exodus #reddit refugee #I like tagging EVERYTHING

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eowynstwin · 2 years

Text

to rival the sun

Pairing: Gaz x f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: virginity loss, established relationship, praise kink (kind of), discussions of contraceptives, gratuitous use of italics, a metaphor perhaps stretched too thin, really just a lot of gooey sweetness, only one editing pass so be gentle Author’s Notes: Listen, I am not a Gaz girl, but this thing just came out of me.

Now on AO3!

You’re in the middle of making out on his couch when you tell him.

You’re straddled across his lap, arms hung loosely around his neck as his hands slide soft and soothing up and down your back. Something is burning low in your belly, something you’ve often felt but never shared with anyone else, and his mouth is warm and eager on yours.

“Can’t ever get enough of you, feels like,” he’d said to you, early in your relationship. He’d meant it as a joke, at the time, referring to the near three-solid days you’d spent together between deployment. You hadn’t even done that much—one or two outings to a cafe had only punctuated longer stretches given simply to sharing each other’s company. You’d still been getting familiar then, the both of you, still sharing kisses that were more shy than anything else.

Kyle is not shy now, and neither are you. His entire body is warm, and almost pliant beneath yours, but you can feel a kind of tightness that always seems to be there when the two of you get into these positions. It’s in his shoulders, pulled taut along the muscles of his trapezius, and as you tease his lower lip with your teeth you knead circles into the meat of it with the tips of your fingers.

The massage does the opposite of helping, though—he intakes a sharp breath, and pulls away from you, hands tight on your waist as he breaths hard. His eyes are closed, and the warm brown of his cheeks is made warmer by a tinge of red.

“Maybe we should slow down,” he says, sounding like that’s the opposite of what he wants to do. The grip he has on you seems to agree.

“If you want,” you say, but making the offer feels like pulling your own teeth. That low burn is beginning to spread, but insecurity suddenly threatens to poison it. Does he not want you?

It’s been a little like this throughout the span of your relationship. Even without any admissions, you know it’s pretty obvious that you don’t have much experience. And for the most part, his attention to the slow pace you set has been nothing but a relief—people could get weird about your needs, about what you hadn’t done, but Kyle makes you feel like the rhythm you set isn’t a strange one to dance to at all.

“Do you want to?” Kyle asks, opening his eyes to meet yours.

The insecurity dissolves. You can see it all over his face, in the crease of his brow—he doesn’t want to stop. He wants to keep you comfortable, even if he ends up unsatisfied. You feel like his expression is mirroring yours perfectly, painted stark and hot with aching want, and settling into that shared feeling is like sinking deep into a warm bath.

“No,” you whisper, hands moving to frame the sides of his neck.

He inhales again, less sharply. “Just say when, yeah?” he whispers back. The words are accompanied with a shift of his hips, a flutter of his hands on your waist.

“There isn’t a when,” you say, and then without thinking, “I want you to be my first, Gaz.”

He goes still. Blinks at you. “Oh.”

And instantly you regret opening your mouth. Your hands fall away, sliding down to his chest, curling into embarrassed fists. You look down. Of course it’s weird. Who was a virgin past eighteen these days? You know Kyle is experienced, unlike you—you’ve felt it every time he’s touched you, every time he’s slung an arm around you with the casual ease of someone who knew how to be with someone else. Shame and disappointment flood you, and that burn in your belly rapidly banks.

But his hands—broad, strong, and gentle—are on your face, bringing you back to him. “I would’ve thought—god, I mean, people must have thrown themselves at you!”

He’s smiling, wide and joyful, and it’s like seeing the sun rise. As quickly as it came, the embarrassment flees.

You smile too, the relief making you laugh, and refrain from correcting his generous assumption. “It just never felt right.”

He kisses you, swift and solid, but suddenly pulls away again, but you know this time it’s because he’s thought to say something. “And it feels right now?”

You nod, hands going back to his neck, lashes lowered a little demurely. “You feel right, Kyle.”

He surges forward again, lips finding the corner of your mouth and working toward your jaw. “Tell me the minute I do something you don’t like. Promise me, yeah? Promise.”

“I promise,” you gasp, as suddenly his teeth find the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You don’t think, in that moment as the burn suddenly roars back to life, that he could do a single thing to make keeping that promise necessary. “Kyle, that feels good.”

His lips part from your skin with a wet smack, move to give the hickey he’s just sucked into your skin a companion. “That’s the idea, love.”

Your hands find the expanse of his back as he presses you closer, fingers spreading over the flex and stretch of taut muscle, and you dig your nails in as a little moan leaves you. The tension you’d always felt is gone, and when you realize that it’s been there because he’s been holding back for you the entire time, your breath leaves your lungs.

“That feels good, too, love,” he says against your neck, smiling up at you when you look at him. “Always feels good when you touch me. Always. Didn’t want to scare you with that.”

You melt a little. “I’m never scared of you, Kyle.”

You don’t have the words to describe his expression. The smile has dropped away, but it’s been replaced with something you think borders on beatific. His eyes, warm and brown and soft, are seeing you against a backdrop of something else, something you know is bloody and ugly and a place of no pride. You don’t know the details—you don’t have the clearance—but you know enough.

You take his face in your hands as he pulls back. “Never,” you repeat.

His arms tighten around you like vices, and he leans forward again, kissing you hard. His tongue finds the edge of your teeth, licks into your mouth as his hands flex across your back and your fingers find the collar of his shirt. It feels illicit to delve beneath the flimsy cotton, to trace the shape of his muscles with your nails, but the purr of satisfaction he gives against your mouth tells you it’s exactly the right thing to do.

“Off,” you say between kisses, and the fabric complains as he yanks it up, pulls his arms and head out, and throws the thing away without a second look. You splay your hands across his chest, digging your nails into the swell of his muscles as he claims your mouth again, and his skin is blazing to touch. You think there’s a fire burning inside him, too, and in the back of your mind you wonder if his flat could burn down just from the two of you being together like this.

His arms sink lower around your body, traveling from waist to hips, and abruptly he’s pulling you forward, hands splayed across both ass cheeks, as he shifts his hips and settles back against the couch. The new position has your mons nestled against an interesting bulge at the front of his pants, but he doesn’t give you much time to blush or fluster about it.

“Ride me, love, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, the deep dark of his eyes alight with the firestorm whipping up between you.

You grasp his shoulders and lean in to seal your mouth over his again. His fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, hot on the already warm skin of your back. Encouraged, you pivot your hips a little, experimentally, and in synch the both of you groan at the sensation. His erection is almost perfectly aligned with the clothed seam of your pussy, the drag of it made simultaneously just perfect and not enough with the fabric’s friction. You grind down again, pressing your mouth harder against his, whimpering when his jaw opens and his tongue finds its way into the space beneath yours. He shifts his hips, pushing up into you a little, grabbing you by the ass again as you bear your clit down hard on what feels like it could be the head of his cock.

“Christ, love, that’s fucking perfect,” Kyle gasps, tendons in his neck pulled completely taut.

“Gaz, it feels so good,” you whine, pressing down harder, dragging against him, the need suddenly feverish.

His hands leave your shirt and wedge themselves into the back of your pants, eliciting a sharp gasp as he kneads the flesh. “This okay? You want these off?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, Kyle, please.”

It’s a clumsy job, and they end up hanging from one ankle because you cannot be bothered to do more than get them out of the way. Somewhere in the back of your head you want to laugh at how slapdash the both of you must look—him shirtless but still in sweatpants, you naked only from the waist down—but the rest of your mind is an inferno. As you settle back onto his lap, there’s only his clothes separating you from him now, and when you press your mons against him again the heat coming from his cock is breathtaking.

“We need a condom?” Kyle asks, spreading his big hands across your thighs.

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur, grinning at his foresight, blessing your lucky stars that you’d thought to take precautions as early as the first time you’d made out with him.

“Fuck yeah,” he enthuses, grinning back. “Option’s always open though. If we need it.”

That has you kissing him again, burrowing your hips into his, swallowing the sharp moan he gives as his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. You can almost imagine him throbbing against you—or is that your own pulse you feel, beating a rhythm between your folds? Heat floods your face at the thought, and a needy ache blooms quickly from your center.

You separate from him. “Kyle—touch me. Please?”

His hand goes to your sex like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Suddenly you’re fighting your own body, because your hips jerk away from him when his fingers slide through folds that you’re only now realizing are dripping wet. The pleasure is not dulled with fabric this time, not under the rhythm of your control, and it’s like flames are licking at your bare skin with the sensation of his touch. Every nerve is alive, alight with awareness.

“Sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

But he’s got a steady arm around you. His grin reappears, satisfied and almost smug. “That good, is it?” he teases, a lighter touch dragging again through the creases of you, curling his fingers into a sticky squelch that has you blushing furiously. “Shit, that is good.”

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.”

He forms his mouth around your pulse, the tip of his middle finger circling your clit without actually making contact. “You want my fingers, love?” They brush around the borders of your entrance. “Want me to get you ready?”

“I can take you,” you say, bearing down, trapping his hand between your pussy and his cock. “I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much. I promised, didn’t I?”

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, and searches your gaze. You don’t know what he sees, but his mouth finds yours again. “Jesus, darling. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.”

He withdraws his hand, and scoots you back a little by the hips. You can’t help staring as he pulls his waistband down, showing a small dusting of curly pubic hair, and pulls his cock free with one hand. The burn almost peaks then and there, because the sight of it standing like that, rigid, the head of it smeared glossy with precum, is almost too much to take. He’s hard, hard because of you, hard because of what you’d been doing together.

Your trace your fingers along its length, almost lightheaded, before remembering that he’s been so good about staying at your pace. “Is this okay?” you ask, your touch lingering at the base. You want to show him the same consideration he’s shown you—want him to know how precious it has been by giving him the same.

His breath comes out unevenly, and he presses his forehead to yours—you think he understands. “Better than okay. Fuck.”

You stroke him again, lingering at the dip between shaft and corona, and your brows shoot up when his cock twitches in response. Your breath is suddenly shaky in your chest, shallow, and your throat feels dry when you finally speak. You hadn’t known that could happen. The implications have the blood roaring in your ears.

“How—” and you have to lick your lips, “—how do we do this?”

You look up at his face again, and his lips part in a smile that’s so tender it makes your heart hurt. “Come here.”

He helps you lift up on your knees, and you want to whimper at how easy it is for him to hold you steady with one hand while the other takes ahold of his cock. There is barely any space between the head of it and your folds. You swear you can feel the heat of it radiating out toward your skin, as if it’s stretching out to find you.

“Help me in, alright?” Kyle murmurs, hand tightening on your hip, the pressure comforting.

You grip his bare shoulder with one hand and reach down, finding your entrance—you’re familiar enough with that—and spreading your folds. As you lower yourself, trembling less than you might have without his support, you feel the head of his cock pass between the splay of your fingers, spreading them wider, and then your entrance surrounds him.

“Good,” Kyle breathes, “so good. You’re doing amazing.”

Lower. You feed him into yourself in centimeters, carefully, but it’s like you were made to take him—your body gives no resistance, the dripping slick you’re coated with welcoming him eagerly, hungrily. You toss your pace to the wind and push down, taking him to the root.

The moan that leaves you is long and loud as he hisses “Fuck!” in your ear. The hand that had been around his cock slaps against your ass, and you feel him go rigid beneath you, feel his shoulders go tight, feel his thighs flex beneath you as his grip on your body turns to iron. He’s hot and thick inside you, and deep, deeper than your fingers have ever been able to reach. You’re sure of it now—you can feel the his pulse in you, thrumming against your walls like the beat of a drum.

You find your breath somehow as the two of you sit motionless for a heartbeat.

Then he’s huffing a laugh. “Warn a guy next time, love! Shit, you feel incredible.”

You laugh too, and it’s followed by a gasp as you can feel yourself laughing around him. “Told you I could take you!” you pant.

He grins at you, showing his teeth, and nips at your jaw. “Fucking minx. Take the rest then, too, aye?”

You pivot your hips, already practiced from before, and give a cry as you finally register the stretch of your walls around him. It’s a good stretch, a burn that you’re sure is going to sear you from the inside. Your thighs are shaking a little, tight with a building pressure that threatens to combust, and Kyle gives a push upward with his hips.

“I got you,” he says, and his voice is low and breathy as he wraps both hands around your waist. “Go ahead. Take what you need. We’ll get you there.”

You pivot again, and pleasure radiates from your core from where your bodies are joined. You don’t need to think about it too much as you roll your hips, back and forth, falling forward to drape yourself across Kyle’s chest as you wrap your arms around his shoulders for leverage. One heavy arm loops around your back, and you’re squealing as his free hand is at your sex again, two fingers pressing into your clit as his hips rock, as ever, to match your rhythm.

Your breath is coming fast. The heat between your bodies is humid, heavy, settling slick across your skin as you move together. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, whimpering, panting, grinding your hips down as the muscles in your back and thighs pull tighter and tighter, as something in your core winds itself up with so much tension you wonder how far it can actually go. You’ve come before, with a vibrator, with your own hands, but it’s never been like this.

“Kyle,” you say, and it comes out as the neediest whine you have ever heard yourself make. “I’m so close, oh my god…”

“I can feel it,” he says, thrusting up into you with new momentum. “You’re almost there, love, it’s alright—shit, you feel good—come on, darling, come for me—Fuck!”

The tension snaps. Your breath escapes you in one sharp, long gasp, carrying a wordless cry out of your mouth, and then you can’t make any sound at all. Your orgasm floods your whole body, fireworks of ecstasy lighting up across your nerves in a sweeping crescendo, bursting to life behind your closed eyes, dancing for moments before winking out to make room for more. For one, singular moment, you feel every nerve ending beneath your skin blaze with pleasure, and wonder if this was how stars came to life.

You finally cry out, panting hard against Kyle’s skin, when you regain the use of your voice. He’s pistoning into you from below, and you only have a little time to gather yourself to watch his face before his hips shove up into yours, almost lifting the both of you completely off the couch, as he comes with a strained growl.

The expression he’s making is indescribable. Everything you’d felt in that climax, you see playing out in the draw of his brows, in the hang of his jaw. Had he looked like that the whole time? You experience an unexpected moment of disappointment, as the pleasure ebbs. You’d been very focused on you. You’d missed what was happening to him.

You’re both breathing hard. You tighten your arms around him, stricken suddenly with that old shyness, when he starts to pepper your neck with soft little kisses, and that eases the disappointment. You come back to yourself, to the both of you, as his hands are traveling across your back, splayed wide, stroking the sweaty fabric of your shirt. His body is still warm beneath you—still warm inside you—and for now, it’s enough.

“That was incredible,” Kyle says into your skin, “Christ, that was perfect. You were perfect.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “So were you,” you say, soft and a little tender. He turns his head to look at you, still resting against his shoulder. You realize you’re smiling, when he smiles back—and you lift your head to press your brow to his. “Thank you,” you whisper.

His lips find yours, soft and sweet. You know he understands.

You’re both sticky, glistening with sweat, and a little dizzy from the climax. This isn’t so unfamiliar a feeling—you and Kyle were known to exercise together—but when the two of you finally break apart, as he slips out of your body, you discover two things.

One, you feel horribly empty without him inside you. Your belly is still thrumming, and you realize that low burn has not gone out.

And two, Kyle is nowhere near flaccid. It isn’t the rigid mast it had been earlier, but like you, Kyle isn’t quite sated.

He sees you studying him, still on the couch after you’ve stood up, and smiles at you. You know what he’s about to say even before he says it.

“Told you I can’t get enough of you.”

You give a breathless laugh. Because now, you’re very interested in going at his pace instead.

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ourflagmeanswaystar · 17 days

Text

your handprint’s on my soul (i wanna be your endgame)

ao3 | buck/eddie | rated: T | 45k words

hi!! i just posted the last chapter of my latest buddie fic (excerpt below) and am gonna post the epilogue later tonight (9/4)!

i’m really proud of completing this, i think it’s like a fun lil jaunt through some light angst and self-discovery and pining that ends heartwarming. i originally said it was kinda a vehicle for my favorite headcanons and tropes so in honor of that, here’s some of the most poignant tags, descriptors, tropes, etc.:

every chapter is named after a song that often gave me the idea for whatever happens in that chapter

post-s7

getting together

buck being christopher diaz’s second father

eddie gay awakening ft. bobby’s hot priest

fwb to lovers

idiots in love

gratuitous italics and commas and em dashes sorry

Eddie was 16 when Adriana got her first pair of glasses. He drove her to the appointment. He still remembers when they stepped outside the doctor’s office and she froze, little hand grabbing his arm. “Oh my gosh, Eddie, the trees.” He looked out across the parking lot where she was pointing, but he just saw the same old trees how they always looked this time of year, the leaves starting to dry up. “They— they don’t look like blurry blobs anymore!” She ran across the parking lot to the biggest trees, with Eddie instinctively looking both ways on her behalf and chasing after her. Her beaming smile up at him as she examined the details of the leaves has stuck with him all these years. Eddie doesn’t care if it may not be the most tasteful analogy to use for sex with Evan Buckley, but it’s the one that works. He could say their first kiss felt like he’s actually breathing correctly, using his full lung capacity for the first time. He could say falling into his messy bed sheets together felt like the rest of the world could have apocalyptically burned down and he wouldn’t have noticed. He could say this is what everyone’s been talking about this whole time. But this is what makes the most sense: How people describe getting glasses and seeing leaves on the trees for the first time. It’s like until two weeks ago, he couldn’t even see the trees at all. He had just adapted to a barren tree-less landscape, and it was fine, he didn’t even know anything was missing. Then his eyes were opened to this whole new world a little after midnight in an overstimulating gay bar in West Hollywood. But he didn’t realize until now that he was still only seeing the surface. Those two other guys, who he can’t even remember right now, were like the blurry blob trees Adriana had described. And now, with someone who knows him better than anyone else in the world, he sees everything. Every last leaf; he sees and catalogs every last detail of Buck.

#911 #911 abc #buddie #911 fanfic #911 fic #buck x eddie #fanfic #idk all these years i've never learned how to properly tag my posts about my fics

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f4ggottree · 2 months

Text

okay bitches and bros (and everyone else) tackling my first stonathan fic with a giant project...she has been revealed now...

(I Know) Where You've Been Hiding (9806 words) by ceruleanandconvalescence Chapters: 2/12 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington Characters: Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers, Jonathan Byers, Will Byers Additional Tags: Period-Typical Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mortifying Ideal Of Being Known, childhood friends to enemies to lovers to enemies then lovers again, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Gay Jonathan Byers, Good Sibling Jonathan Byers, Vomiting, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Minor Character Death, Major (non-permanent) character death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Breaking Up & Making Up, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, its happy to me anyway, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, POV Alternating, Queer Steve Harrington, Gratuitous use of italics Series: Part 2 of Undone (Like Me) Summary:

Jonathan and Steve haven't spoken in months. Steve almost prefers it that way, because at least he knows how to act. Don't get too close, don't get caught staring, don't let anyone know--they're easy rules to follow.

But, when Jonathan goes missing, and the quiet town of Hawkins is suddenly not-so-quiet, it becomes harder and harder for Steve to hide the truth. He's not even sure what the truth is, anymore. He's not sure he wants to find out.

--- A rewrite of S1 centered on the premise: What if Jonathan went missing instead of Will? (And: What if Steve and Jonathan were childhood friends turned enemies turned lovers turned enemies again?)

#stonathan #jonathan byers #steve harrington #im incredibly not normal about this #ao3

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veliseraptor · 6 months

Note

🧩

⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

so many things! that post that I now have notifications blocked on about how I'm always like "sigh, why do I have nothing to read, I have simple and reasonable desires!" and then click out of fics for a variety of petty reasons is very real, and I'm not even talking, like, "squicks" or "characterization issues". even before getting to those (of which I've got...well, not a lot of squicks but definitely a lot of "i'm picky about characterization") there's:

poor spelling and/or grammar

weird formatting (punctuation, paragraph breaks, etc.)

use of strikethroughs in narration

overuse of italics

use of capslock in dialogue or narration

and then we get into things like:

poorly veiled character bashing

gratuitous villainizing of a fave (though usually tags and summary cull this for me first)

too fluffy

characterization feels generally off or unconvincing

and that's not touching the, like. fandom specific tropes that generally fall under that last bullet point but sometimes have to do with plot/narrative. honestly I'm a very picky person and there are a lot of things that will make me back-button out of a fic, and sometimes I feel like I am probably missing out on perfectly decent works because of this but for the most part I've just accepted that I'm kind of a snob. not always, but, like. mostly, and I feel like I've gotten to be more so over my years in fandom. my standards have gotten higher.

the funny thing is that there's not a lot of squicks that will really kick me out of a fic. I'm pretty hard to squick, generally speaking. it's more little things that make me go "ugh" in annoyance and bounce than it is things that actively squick me out.

#conversating #anonymous #lise memes

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sinclairmaxwellao3 · 5 months

Text

What is your guilty pleasure as a writer?

Me, without missing a beat: Gratuitous use of italics.

xD At least I'm self aware.

#fanfic #fanfiction #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing #ao3 writer #genuine question

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1000punks · 10 months

Text

Of Paradise For Hell (Part 3)

masterlist. || read on AO3

pairing: Haarlep x named!Tav (non-binary OC) x Raphael

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. obviously spoilers for act 3 (house of hope). very slow burn but they're naked the whole time. Haarlep domming everybody. Raphael being begrudgingly soft. general D/s. gratuitous use of italics. cheesy literature quotes. consensual somno.

word count: 966

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Haarlep cocked his head to the side, smiling as he reclined on the bed, bringing his hands up and interlacing his fingers behind his head with a satisfied sigh.

Festé and Raphael broke apart at the sound, the devil helping the tiefling from his lap slowly, hissing as he slipped out of them and pressing his face into their shoulder to stifle a soft moan. With a half-smile, he pulled them to the head of the bed with him, tucking the tiefling between himself and Haarlep. Festé sighed out shakily as Raphael reached out and gingerly stroked his fingers down their side, his face unsure. Haarlep watched him, reaching out and mirroring his touches on Festé's other side before reaching up to stroke their hair. Raphael glanced up at him, and Haarlep gave him an encouraging nod. He gently rolled the tiefling to rest on the devil's shoulder, who pulled them securely into his arms, running his fingers up and down their back as they relaxed over his chest.

"That feels really nice," they murmured, breaking the long silence. Festé wrapped their arm over Raphael's waist, continuing in a whisper, "Please don't stop…" Haarlep sat up slowly, gently gathering Festé's hair with his hands, starting to comb through it with his fingers. The tiefling sniffled a bit, blushing as they felt Raphael tense under them. He brought his fingers to their chin and tilted their face up to study it, his eyebrows knitting together with concern.

"Oh, my dear, what is it?" he breathed, brushing a thumb over their cheek lightly, surprised when it came away wet. "Are you all right?" The tiefling nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Was it too much?" They shook their head, and he rubbed their cheek softly. "Just enough?" They nodded, and he kissed their forehead tenderly. "Good. You did very well, little mouse. I- " he glanced up at Haarlep, who had started braiding Festé's hair. "Haarlep and I are quite proud of you." He spoke slowly, keeping his other hand moving on their back lightly.

Haarlep chimed in, his voice smoky and soothing, "The devil is right, both of us are very proud of you, little one." He finished braiding and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the imp's shoulder, giving them a gentle bite and laughing when they let out a soft chuckle. Raphael smiled, clearly relieved. Haarlep planted kisses over the back of their neck before letting their hair fall back over their skin. "Do you want to sleep, my dear?"

Festé lifted their head weakly. "No, I don't." They blinked slowly, looking up at Raphael and turning over slightly to look at Haarlep. "What's wrong? You both look…" they chuckled awkwardly.

Raphael cut in, "I think you should, little mouse. I think… we may have tired you out completely." He traced his fingers across their collarbone and down to their shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"But I'm not - " they protested, but Haarlep gently pressed a finger to their lips.

"What would you say to Master and myself having a little more fun with you while you relax and drift off? How does that sound?" Raphael cast a look at the incubus as he spoke. He was always so indulgent with every stray desire, and it was almost admirable. He looked back down at the tiefling thoughtfully, wondering it they would take the deal or not. Haarlep's question hung in the air.

"I would enjoy that," Festé spoke with resolve, nodding and looking between the devil and the incubus once more. "Please, have your way with me, both of you." Haarlep obliged immediately with a hum of approval, wrapping his arm around their waist and pressing himself close behind them and kissing over their shoulder. Festé moved one hand to Raphael's chest, a question in their eyes as they glanced up to his, moving their hand slowly down to his stomach.

He caught their hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing over their fingers. "No, thank you, little mouse. I'm perfectly fine right here." He smiled, watching their face, reaching up to trace their cheeks and lips with his fingers before drawing his hand back, feeling sheepish. Festé chuckled softly.

"Go ahead, keep touching me," they whispered, closing their eyes. Haarlep wrapped them securely in his arms, peeking over their shoulder at Raphael and raising his eyebrows. The devil reached out once more with a happy sigh, running his fingers over lightly over their neck. He leaned in to kiss them them slowly, drawing it out again while they still had consciousness. Haarlep gently hitched up the tiefling's thigh, wrapping their leg over Raphael's hip before pushing into them once more with a moan of relief. He pressed close against their back and nestling his chin against their shoulder. Raphael kissed Festé's forehead before resting his own against it, rubbing their thigh gently.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Festé awoke hours later as streaks of dawn began to creep across the sky. They shook their head sleepily, taking in their surroundings and relaxing once they realized they were safely back in the rented rooms. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a familiar frame near the door. Raphael caught their gaze and pressed a finger to his lips silently, disappearing with a smile in a cloud of smoke. The tiefling curled up on their bed, shifting to slide their hand under their pillow instinctively. Their fingers closed around a scrap of parchment, and they pulled it out, squinting to read it in the dim light.

A mind not to be changed by place or time. The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. See you soon, my dear. - R.

A/N: again, to the folks reading and enjoying this fic, thank you! i appreciate you appreciating my work! i definitely had fun writing this, it was nice to make raphael soften up from his crusty old dad-guy demeanor.

#.txt #.fic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #haarlep x tav #haarlep x named!tav #haarlep x raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x named!tav #haarlep #raphael #raphael bg3 #fic: of paradise for hell

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 5 months

Text

Honeyed Lips. Siren Hips.

Wordcount: 12k

Summary:

Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky. Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky x Steve. A simple night out takes a turn Honey wasn't expecting. New paths and opportunities are discovered. How will they all fair in the end?

Warnings:

Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Romantic Fluff, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Polyamory, Female Character of Color, Alternate Universe - CanonAlternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Threesome - F/M/M, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Making Love, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Light BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, Soft Thor (Marvel), Protective Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom Thor (Marvel)

Notes:

Hello Heathens! Lyrics used are from: Just A Boy - Alaina Castillo and Whole Lotta Woman - Kelly Clarkson They will be in bold and italic. I do not own the rights to either of those song and implore you to give them a listen. Also give Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz ft Yacht Money a listen when things start to heat up. Happy reading!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

A Charity event with the Avengers in attendance is a normal occurrence for you nowadays. Using your charming personality to help aid the team in winning over donors. A sweet smile and stroke of the ego never hurts to get them to shell over copious amounts of money to a deserving cause.

What started as a fun night out with her superhero boyfriends Thor and Bucky; along with their crazy group of friends who have quickly become like family to you, has slowly started to turn sour. Thor’s ex, Jane Foster, is in attendance at said charity event and clearly still has heart eyes for the God of Thunder. Going so far as to steal his attention throughout the event.

She has completely disregarded that you walked in on his arm and that he is just as much your man as Bucky is. Constantly having to touch him or graze her hand down his bicep while he talks and makes polite conversation with her because that’s who your puppy is; sweet and oblivious at times.

As the night carries on, you slowly become more affected with the disrespect you are being shown by the lovely Doctor. Bucky knows that even though you're giving off a calm demeanor and charming the pants off the donors as you mingle, that something is off with their girl.

Your smile isn’t quite reaching your eyes and every so often you glance in Thor’s direction to see if he is still entertaining Jane's attention. And every time you clock that he hasn't moved from the spot where he, Banner, Jane and Darcy have been conversing, he notices your walls notching back into place. Walls they worked hard to knock down.

What it really comes down to is this, even though you are mentally stronger than the both of them, so damn sure of yourself and independent that it's sexy as hell, you still have moments of insecurity like the rest of us. Sometimes, though rare, but they do happen, you feel like you’re not worthy of having the love of them both.

You make it a point not to waste the time you spend with them and enjoy every moment you all have together. Even the fights, because between their job protecting the world and just life in general, it’s not guaranteed that they’ll both still be yours tomorrow. So seeing one of the men you are so deeply in love with seemingly having a great time catching up with his ex, well it stings.

It’s not that he’s spending time talking to her, you’re friendly with some of your ex’s yourself. It's that she’s monopolized his attention this evening and even though you three came together, he has not once sought you out since you and Bucky went to make the rounds with the donors.

And of course you feel horrible for feeling even the tiniest bit insecure right now, because that's taking away from you enjoying time with Bucky the way you should be. It’s best to just slap a pleasant smile on your face, dance with your favorite Supersoldier and try to enjoy the rest of the event. Hopefully you can make up for lost time with Thor at the after party.

There is no way you’re letting this dress go to waste. You look like a real life melanated Jessica Rabbit tonight and if he wants to spend his time with Plain Jane instead of showing you off then so be it. The, Fuck It, has officially hit your system.

As Bucky holds you close, swaying along to slow jazz on the dance floor, he leans in and gently kisses your neck. Whispering in your ear. “You’ve hid it well from everyone else, but I know it's hurting you that we walked in, arm in arm, you sandwiched between us. Where you always belong by the way. And yet you’ve only really been occupying my space as the night has gone on.” You scoff.

“It’s ok, sweetness. You don't have to admit it for me to see the truth in those soulful eyes of yours. They speak volumes.” You get lost in his steel blues for a moment before he continues on.

“I know, you know how much he loves you. How lucky he feels to call you his. Just like I am. But he is also an oblivious oaf at times and tonight is just proof of that. Now, I’m going to literally sweep you off your feet on this dance floor and smother you in so much attention you forget there is even anyone else in the room. Including Thor.” He smirks, enticing the first real smile out of you in hours.

“Then we’re going to head back to the compound for the after-party and get you lost some more. Hopefully with an extra set of arms to wrap around you on the dance floor. Your night is going to end with this dress decorating my bedroom floor regardless.” He chuckles. “How’s that sound babygirl? Can you do that for me?”

“When you speak so sweetly to me, how could I possibly say no, Sir.” You respond with feigned innocence.

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer and lets out a light growl. “You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

That is where the rest of your time was spent at the event. Wrapped up in Bucky's arms on the dance floor until Tony informed everyone it was time to head back home and really get the party started. Reaching the limos you all climb in. Thor being the last one to get into the one you and Bucky occupied with Steve, Sam and Nat. Or so you thought, until one Jane Foster piled in behind him.

You seem to have stopped breathing, squeezing Bucky’s flesh hand until he lays a kiss on your temple to soothe you. Thor glances your way and smiles that disarming smile of his. Eyes wandering your curves, like he didn't get an up close and personal look before the event. It’s a look bathed in lust that you want to bask in, but you’re still a bit hurt by how tonight has turned out thus far.

So you just smile back and turn your head to whisper in Bucky’s ear. “I’m barely holding it together right now. I cant believe she is in here trying to cuddle up to him in front of me and he’s just letting it happen. The disrespect is just too much for me. I want to be petty so damn bad right now.”

He can feel your body begin to slightly shake from holding everything in, trying not to make a scene and be ‘that girl’. Natasha can feel it too and is not pleased with Jane or Thor. Her dagger eyes firmly shot in their direction. Making Thor scrunch his eyebrows in confusion as to why he is getting stared down by the Black Widow.

Cradling your cheek in his metal hand to keep your eyes on him and only him, he places a soft tinder kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry Honey, when he snaps to his senses and realises what's happening, he’ll be begging on his knees for you to forgive him. He’d sooner lose a limb than willingly cause you pain of any kind. Just rest up for now. Our night has truly only just begun.” With a nibble to your bottom lip he pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin to face Nat while he caresses your back.

Thor watches this sweet exchange between his partners with curiosity and love in his eyes. It’s definitely not the first time he’s seen Bucky taking care of you when you're feeling vulnerable; but it is the first time he’s ever seen it happen in front of the others. You are always so independent and strong. Even when hanging out at the compound, charming everyone around you. He’s wondering what is making you so reserved and quiet.

Come to think of it, he barely saw you during the event, losing track of time conversing with Jane and Banner. Then when he and Jane got into the limo you only gave him a small smile instead of your usual greeting reserved for just him. What is going on with his sweet one?

It is while he is trying to figure out what could possibly have made your bright light dim a bit tonight, that he is shaken from his thoughts as Jane grazes her hand along his forearm to get his attention. Not removing it when he turns his head to face her.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight Thor. You know how I get when I have to go to these things. I’m excited to see the rest of the compound as well. I’ve only really been in the labs with Banner. Maybe you can give me a tour of the best parts?”

Although your head was turned away from them, Jane wasn't trying to keep her voice down and you heard every word she uttered, the innuendo not hidden to your well trained ears.

Private tour my ass, she just wanted to get my man alone and try her luck. Fucking classless bitch. I’m right fucking here in the limo with you. I may not be on his lap but he’s still mine, hoe. Don’t make me use these hands on you in this confined space.

Bucky could feel your grip on his shirt, covered by his suit jacket, tighten as your temper rose. Other than that small hidden detail, to the rest of the limo you seemed calm and content. Nat knew better of course, her meddling is the whole reason you three are even together.

Being so close with the Black Widow has its advantages. Her protective nature is definitely one of them. Knowing you were trying to refrain from losing it in this limo, Nat took it upon herself to gather some info.

“Jane?” she spoke.

“Nat. Don't.” You whispered with clenched teeth at her. She calmly patted your thigh, giving it a little squeeze and continued.

“Yes, Natasha?” Her hand was still on his damn arm as she turned to Nat.

“How long are you staying in town this time before you head off to your next venture?”

“Oh. Well I don't know exactly. I have nothing pending and Bruce has asked me to help him out. He offered for me to stay at the compound for the time being while I help, until I commit to where I am going next.”

“So you have no plans to leave anytime soon?” Nat queried.

Turning her head and smiling up at Thor before turning back to face Nat while grazing his arm, “No I don't.”

Bucky can't help but glare at is partner as he feels your breath quicken against his chest. He notices that Thor’s eyes are set on you and only you cuddled up to him. He almost looks envious that their girl is wrapped around only him and not sandwich between them like normal.

Interesting. So he is aware something is off. He’s just too damn oblivious to realize that it's him that has her this way. Come on Thor get it together before she does something drastic with her extra ass self.

“Isn’t it great Thor?” Jane asks him, breaking him out of his daze of watching his partners looking so sweet and loving.

“Hm. What’s great?” He replies.

“That we’ll be staying at the same place again. It’s been so long since we were in the same place together for a period of time.” She beams up at him.

“You’re staying at the compound? Well that’s wonderful Jane. I hope you enjoy your stay. I know you and Banner will be doing great things in the lab.” He smiled politely back at her.

Before she can respond the limo slows to a stop.

Bucky kisses your head. “We’re here sweetness. Are you ready to head into the party or do you need a minute first?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m good. I need to get my body moving before I do something crazy, like snatch a bitch by her hair and drag her along the driveway.”

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, placing you on his lap as everyone begins to get out. “The death of me, I swear. As hot as that would be to witness, how ‘bout we just go have a drink. You can grind up against me on the dance floor and then make use of that unresolved anger while you ride me later. I’ll even let you use my favorite knife on me if you want. Make a real mess.”

You squirm at the image he has just produced in your mind. He just had to bring up your shared knife kink. Asshole . You absentmindedly play with the tied back hair on the nape of his neck. “ Mmm. You sure do know how to turn a girls night around don’t you, Sir.”

Leaning in, you press a kiss to his adams apple. “Guess we better get started on your plan then. Looks like I’m all yours tonight Sir.” You get off of his lap and proceed to exit the limo.

After adjusting his hardened dick in his pants, he quickly follows. Grasping your hand as you start to head inside, he spins you around and plants a soul stealing kiss on your lips as he dips you. Thor watches on from the doorway before he’s pulled away by a call of his name.

He brings you back up slowly, pulling you tight against his chest. “You know I love you right? No matter what happens tonight, I’m not going anywhere. And neither is he. Though he may need a reminder of just who he belongs to. I am more than happy to help you teach him a lesson.”

“Dammit James. Warn a woman before you go and make her weak in the knees.” You lightly slap him on the chest. “And I love you too baby. Now let’s go school all of these fools on what it's like to be mine. I apologize in advance for any extra sass you may encounter tonight. It’s not aimed at you Sir, I promise. I’m still your good girl. Thor on the other hand… well I can't be sweet all the time now can I.”

Placing his hand on the small of your back, he leads you both inside, heading straight for the bar. The singer from the live band Tony hired sounds familiar to you and while Bucky is ordering your drinks, you turn to the stage, a bright smile bursts across your face.

No wonder they sounded familiar, you used to be a part of the band years ago, leading it with your ex Jade, who is killing it on the mic right now. Her signature shade of emerald green hair cascading down her shoulders. Like a moth drawn to a flame her eyes catch yours and that Cheshire cat smile of hers appears.

Oh no. I know what that smile means. Nothing but trouble usually.

Bucky wraps his arms around you from behind and places your drink in your hand as he watches your stare down with the lead singer. “Everything alright Honey?”

You chuckle. “Yeah. Everything is just peachy baby. I’m just wondering if Tony hired my ex’s band on purpose or not?”

“Come again?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah that’s my old band up there. I used to share lead with my ex Jade. The emerald haired one enticing the crowd with her voice. I gotta say, she still looks good.”

“You don’t seem bothered by it. I assume you split on good terms.”

“We did. Our relationship just ran its course" You run your fingers around the rim of your drink. "We both had different paths we wanted to venture down. There is no bad blood between us. I wish her and the band the best. I hope they finally fulfill all their dreams.”

“Fuck you really are sweet as honey, aren't you?”

“You doubted me before?”

“No. I just figured the nickname was based on how sweet your little pussy tastes.”

“Oh Really? Please, tell me more about how good I taste, Sir.”

At this moment the band has finished their song and you hear Jade begin to speak to the crowd.

“Good evening everyone and welcome to the after party. I’m Jade and these are the Gems. We’ll be providing the background track to your various levels of debauchery tonight." The crowd laughs. "I couldn't help but notice a familiar face while I was scanning the room. Honey girl, I’m talking about you.”

Everyone turns to you as you stare down Jade. What is this bitch planning to do?

“Now I see some looks of confusion. Especially from you Avengers. How could I possibly know your girl? Well that’s easy. She used to be my girl and we led this band together a few years back. I would be a fool to miss an opportunity to get her up here for at least one song to share a stage one last time. What do you say Honey? Will you sing for us?”

An evil little thought enters your head. Jane may have beauty and science on her side, but when I’m on stage, I command attention. All eyes will be on me. This can only work in my favor to teach my King a lesson.

You kiss Bucky on the cheek and head toward the stage. People parting for you like the red sea as you make your way through the crowd. An extra mic stand has been placed next to Jade’s. Your old set up.

“You’ve always been a bad influence, but you know I love being on stage. So you win and here I am. Under one condition though. I choose the song. Can you handle giving up the control for once J?” You smile at her.

“For you, I think I can make an exception.” She chuckles into her mic.

You whisper the song in her ear and she gives you a look. “Really? Alright. We haven't performed it in a while but I’m sure we still remember it.”

She tells the rest of the band the song and they all remember how you like it played. “I assume you have a reason for this song.” You nod your head yes. “Aright. You doing it solo or are we tag teaming?”

“I’m feeling a duet tonight. I’ll take the first half. Deal?”

“Deal”

Grabbing the mic you address the crowd. “We’re going to slow it down a bit. So just vibe with me okay guys. You’ll be back to shaking your asses momentarily. Promise.”

The guitar begins to play. You lock eyes with Thor and begin to gift the crowd with your silky smooth voice.

“Know you said that you would never hurt me But it's not your fault I still think the worst anyway, yeah Let's be clear, I know that I can trust you When you're under me, but tell me honestly If your alone With some hoe who I don't know and she gets Too close for comfort, says she good at secrets Would you say no, or let your body take control? 'Cause you're just a boy You've got a switch in your head I've seen how quick you forget yourself I know it all too well 'Cause you're just a boy You go from careful to wild And what if I'm not by your side When she fucks with your honesty 'Cause you're just a boy”

Jade picks up the second half. You provide backup and harmony for her. Looking like a damn Siren up on that stage. Seducing every man in the vicinity.

Before you began, Bucky made sure to situate himself next to Thor at the high table he occupied with Jane and Banner once again. Watching as Thor is lost in your words, feeling like those are somehow directed to him and how the night has gone on.

Leaning over he whispers in his partner's ear after you finish singing lead. “She always looks so amazing up on a stage doesn't she? In her element. Commanding a crowd. It’s fucking sexy as hell. Sometimes I still cant believe that she chose to let us be hers.”

“Agreed. One does not find a woman like her with ease. It’s a blessing to just be in her presence, let alone be allowed to love her.”

“Then why the hell would you risk that by neglecting her tonight huh?”

Thor turns to him with a look of pure confusion on his bearded face. “What are you talking about ‘neglecting her tonight’? We all came together per usual. You made your rounds with the donors without me, but that’s never been an issue before.”

Out of his peripherals, Bucky can see Jane listening in, trying to hear their conversation. He doesn't have much time before you're done on stage and he needs to make sure that your night ends well. Based on your song choice, the best ending for you tonight would be for Thor to get his head out of the clouds and realize the mistake he made and fix it.

Preferably with lots of orgasms and the three of you tangled up in bed. It looks like that won’t be happening without him pointing him in the right direction though. The things you do for the ones you love. I didn't think anyone could be as oblivious as Steve, but Thor has certainly proved me wrong tonight.

Not caring that Jane is listening in, he speaks up. “Your right. It never has been an issue before.” Thor starts to smile thinking he’s won.

“But the main difference tonight is that once we were finished with our rounds, you never sought us out. You stayed glued to that table, preoccupied in conversation, catching up with your ex. I had to watch our girl act like it didn't bother her every time her eyes roamed, searching you out and they landed on you in that same spot, oblivious to the world around you, still engaged in conversation with someone she knows nothing about personally.”

Thor is shocked. “What? That can’t be right? I might have gotten lost in conversation but my Queen is always on my mind. I remember seeing you two embraced on the dance floor, enjoying yourselves. I’ve never known her to dance if something is bothering her.”

“Wow you really are an oblivious oaf.” Shaking his head. “We were on the dance floor because I couldn't watch the light fade from eyes every time she looked towards you and your head never turned. I made her focus on me and try to relax. She was twisted up in knots inside and really didn't want to make a scene at a Charity event or look like some possessive jealous girlfriend. We figured once we left and were headed home we could make up for lost time. That is until she climbed into the limo next to you.” He nodded his head toward Jane to emphasize his point.

Thor froze. Is that why you were so subdued in the limo?

“I know that look. Yes, that is why she was so quiet on the ride over. She finally had a chance to relax and compose herself in a safe space around friends and the person causing her pain just plops right down and continues the assault on her soul.” He can feel his own temper start to rise as he recalls the details.

“I had to hold her close to me so that she didn't have to see her continue to touch you in a way a lover would instead of an ex or a friend. When Jane asked you for a private tour I just about thought she was going to rip my shirt with the force she gripped it with. Not to mention when she said she was staying on the compound. I swear I felt her stop breathing. Thank God we had arrived by then. I had to calm her down before we even made it inside. I know you saw our kiss outside the limo.”

Thor nodded his head yes. Mind bombarded with snapshots of how the night went and noticing that just as Bucky said you were barely in them. And if you were, you weren’t at his side as you should be. You're so self assured and independent that he forgets that you're sensitive too, always putting others before yourself. That’s why he loves to shower you in affection and praise, because you deserve it. He really fucked up tonight.

“You’ve been glued to this table since we arrived here too. Watching her on stage is the most attention I’ve seen you give her, since we arrived at the Charity Event and Jane approached you. I gotta say pal. I don't like how this not only looks, but how it feels man. But have no fear. I won’t leave our girl feeling doubtful. Just like I have been all night, I’ll be reminding her how much she is loved and who I belong to. If you get your head out of your ass before the night’s over, you can join me in doing just that. If you don't. Well, we will just have to see what happens in the morning light.”

He slaps him on the shoulder with his metal hand and gives him a squeeze as he speaks to the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go greet our girl as she makes it off stage. Have a good night everyone.”

Thor abruptly stands up, almost knocking his chair to the ground. Jane looks up at him and places her hand on his wrist. He immediately shakes it off. What has he been doing letting her touch him like that? She was the one who dumped him. “What’s wrong Thor? Where are you going? I thought you were going to give me a tour?”

“I’m sorry Jane but maybe Banner can give you a tour. I’m going to go be with my sweet Honey, as I have failed to do so all night by allowing you to take up so much of my time. I hope she can forgive me for my misstep. I surely have some groveling I need to do. I bid you all a good night.”

He runs his hand through his shorn locks and straightens his maroon suit jacket before he forges a path directed at you and Bucky. Jane staring on slack jawed.

Natasha takes a seat next to Banner. “I don't know exactly what you were trying to do or prove. He loves her. They both do. There is no shortage of love going on between the three of them. You took him for granted when you had him and now you regret it when you see how he is with her. Give up before you get hurt Doc. And I’m not just talking emotionally. That woman is a damn hell cat when you get her fired up. Tonight was your one time free pass. Next time you try some shit like this, I’ll let her sink her claws in real deep. Come on Bruce, dance with me.” And with that Jane is left at the table to stew in her failure.

Meanwhile…

Somehow, Jade persuaded the crowd and your slightly tipsy superhero friends to rope you into singing just one more song. The catch was that it had to be Jade’s choosing this time. Goddess have mercy on me.

“Now, I know that sexy ass lounge voice pays your bills nowadays; but I have a feeling these new friends of yours haven't actually heard what that voice can really do.” You quirk a brow at her, curious as to the direction she is taking this. “You see, I believe everyone needs to have the full mouthwatering Honey experience at least once in their life. After all she sure is A Whole Lotta Woman…” And that's when the drums kick in.

No this bitch didn't! Here I am trying to keep my attitude in check and she goes and picks the one song that brings out all my sass. Fuck it! Maybe little Miss Plain Jane will learn a thing or two about who she’s really messing with.

A sinful smile crosses your face as you find Bucky standing at the front of the stage next to Steve and Sam. You grab the mic stand and caress it as this strong soulful voice springs forth from your lips. Full of confidence and attitude. They’re all getting to see just why you're built to handle not only a Supersoldier but a God as well.

Speaking of the God of Thunder and Fertility, you spot him making his way towards the stage. Eyes as blue as the sky, meet yours as you take it up a notch and put all these curves to good use.

"I got what you want, I'm aiming to please I got what it takes, I sure got the means I got what you want, sugar, honey, iced tea All eyes on me, oh, oh, baby I'm a whole lotta woman (From the way I walk and toss my hips) I said I'm a whole lotta woman (From the sound to my voice to the gloss on my lips) I'm a whole lotta woman (Anything I see I want, I get) I'm a strong, badass chick with class and confidence Ain't no competition, babe It's just can you keep up with me? I can't do a thing about my wicked ways with gravity"

You belt out the last few lines and have these people eating out of the palm of your hands. Looking down you notice Thor has made it to Bucky and both men look ready to devour you as soon as you walk off this stage.

Steve leans towards Thor. “You’re in for it tonight, I’m sure. How you could neglect all that, even for a little while, I will never understand?” He shakes his head at him. “Hey Buck, if you guys ever want to add another body to the mix, I will gladly volunteer my services. I don't think you two are truly enough for her anyway.”

“If only people knew how dirty America’s Golden Boy really was.” Bucky chuckled. “I’m not opposed to adding you to the mix myself. It’s not like we haven't shared before. Plus I’d love to see how you handle her brattiness. She’d push every single one of your buttons just for the fun of it.”

As they continue to quietly discuss adding Steve, which would move you from throuple to harem territory, you make your way off stage, hips swaying as you approach them. You plant a kiss on Bucky's cheek as he wraps his metal arm around your waist. “What secrets are we whispering about over here boys?”

“Stevie here apparently has been drooling over you for quite some time and just confessed, after shooting a jab at thunder boy over there, that if we ever wanted to add another body to the mix he'd gladly offer himself up. He doesn’t think the two of us are enough for you. Based on how tonight has gone, I’m going to have to agree with him on that point.”

“Is that so, Sir?” you ask. He nods his head. You look over at Thor, who hasn't taken his eyes off you since you sauntered over. “What about you puppy? Do you think I need more? Should we allow Stevie to have a taste?”

Those soul piercing blues have you ensnared as you await an answer.

“I could never deny you pleasure of any kind, my sweet. As such, my behavior tonight, however unintentional, shows me that adding another would only enhance the amount of attention and love you are showered with. I fell short tonight and made my Queen question my intentions. For that, I can not forgive myself. Steven would be a dedicated and strong lover, of that I am sure. I too agree that you need more. I just hope that I continue to be included in your harem. If you so find me worthy to be.”

You can tell that he truly means every word. He is deeply upset over how the night has played out thus far. Thor is such an attentive and affectionate lover that you never expected something like this to happen. Granted, you never expected to feel insecure about your place in his life either. But matters of the heart can be cruel and fickle creatures, playing with one's emotions in inexplicable ways.

You want this night to end positively for all of you and you couldn't deny that you’d been harboring some feelings for the Captain for quite some time yourself. The way that man commands a room is just sexy as fuck, not to mention the Dom energy he just radiates that makes the submissive in you just want to drop to her knees and service him. Bucky knows this and has even used it to his advantage in the bedroom before, whispering all the filthy things he and Steve could do to you together.

Not one to pass up a chance to bring a fantasy of yours to life, you make your decision known. “A harem huh? It has a nice ring to it, if I do say so myself. Three delectable men, all devoted to little 'ol me. How delightfully sinful. Three is the magic number according to School House Rock and who could argue with that logic.”

You grin ear to ear, beckoning Steve closer with a crook of your finger, having him lean down until your lips are grazing his ear. “How about it Captain? Ready for a taste test? Make sure your thirst is properly quenched? I’m curious to see just how compatible we are together.”

He straightens back up, looking down at your plump lips and licking his. Sharing a quick look with Thor and Bucky before focusing those ocean eyes back on you and smirking. “Oh, I’m more than ready for a taste sweetheart.” He lightly grips your chin and runs his thumb along your plush bottom lip. “The real question is can you handle everything I’m going to give you. If you think Buck is intense…”

His eyes darken with lust. “I’m on a whole 'nother level Doll. I won't be satisfied until we’ve fucked you so dumb you’re nothing but a incoherent mess and we’ve ruined you for anyone else.”

With his thick thumb still pressed against your lip, you stare him down as you suck his digit into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving him a quick nip as you release it. “Challenge accepted, Captain.”

Steve turns to Bucky, arching a brow. “You weren’t kidding about that brattiness.”

Pulling her closer to his chest he acknowledges to his best friend. “I wouldn't have it any other way. Just wait until you get her to submit. She’s so sweet and pliable. Mmm.” He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “I think it’s time we head somewhere more private babygirl.”

Steve begins to head towards the wing where their apartments reside. Bucky grabs your hand and starts to follow him. You turn towards Thor and reach out your hand to him. “You're coming too puppy. I wouldn't have it any other way. You can get to work on earning that forgiveness I know you're searching for.”

He places his hand in yours, bends down and kisses your knuckles. “As you wish my Queen. I would want nothing more than to be allowed to worship you.”

Damn him and that silver-tongue of his. He really knows how to beg for forgiveness doesn't he. He’s still going to have to work for it though.

The three of you continue on, walking hand in hand until you meet Steve in front of the entrance to the living quarters.

“Ain't that a beautiful sight to see. Alright sweetheart, here’s your last chance to back out. No hard feelings if you do. But know this. If we continue on, I’m all in, Doll. Once I get a taste they’ll be no escaping me. I’ll be yours. And I’ll make you mine as much as they have. Can you handle that? Do you really want to add another lover and make yourself a nice little harem of superheros, Honey?”

You release their hands and move forward until your chest is grazing Steve’s. You run a hand up his chest, copping a feel of those Supersoldier tiddies, over his collarbone and around to the back of his neck. You play with the hair at his nape until you get a good grip and pull his lips down to yours.

Without skipping a beat, Steve grips your hips, spins you around and presses you into the wall. Deepening the kiss as he runs his hand up the same path you took, stopping at the base of your throat and lightly applying pressure. You let out an unbidden whimper as you lose yourself in his kiss. Knees weak, melting into him. The only reason you’re still standing is thanks to the hand he has wrapped around your throat and his pelvis pinning you in place.

He pulls away and you try to follow his lips, eyes hooded with lust and craving more of his particular taste on your tongue. “I’m going to take that little attempt at teasing me as a yes.”

Struck speechless you just nod your head at him. “Good girl. I know you can feel the effect you have on me. If we don't move this along behind closed doors soon, I'm going to end up taking you right here where everyone can see.”

Behind him you hear Bucky whispering to Thor. “Fuck that was sexy. You see how quickly she submitted for him. Practically purring like a cat in heat.”

“Aye. It seems the Captain is perfectly matched for our little vixen. I know we usually retreat to your chambers James, but seeing as how we are adding another party, I feel mine would be more accommodating. I do have a bed with more than enough space for the four of us. As well as a rather large bathing pool for aftercare. You know how she gets after an intense session.”

“Yes I most certainly do. Come on ya dirty birds, let's move this away from prying eyes.”

You seem to have come out of your lust filled daze enough to speak again. You look around the room and spot Jane staring your way. “Puppy. Can you come here please?”

He steps forward, caging you and Steve in. “Yes my Queen?”

“Closer my King.” He leans in and you pull him into a sensual kiss. Letting all your emotions from the night filter through along with the soul deep love you have for him.

Somehow Steve sneaks out from between the two of you and you end up in Thor’s arms as he grips your thigh through the high slit in your dress and pulls it up to his waist, groaning out as your hot core brushes against his rock solid bulge. You break apart to breathe and notice a pouting Jane in your peripherals.

“Alright. Enough of the free show.” Bucky rushes over and plucks you from Thor’s arms and throws you over his shoulder. “If I dont have my face buried between your sweet thighs and have you coming on my tongue in the next 5 minutes, I’m going to stab somebody.”

You giggle as he slaps your ass and continues on his way to Thor’s room. “Such a Caveman, Sir.”

“Damn right I am woman. I was starting to feel a little left out. You're all mine until they catch up.”

His long strides have you reaching the door in no time. FRIDAY unlocking it for you based on the protocols Thor has set for his room. He wanted to make sure you always had access to him.

You’re set down at the foot of the bed. “I’m going to give you a choice baby girl. You either strip out of that dress right now or I cut it off you. Either way it's coming off.”

You feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine as you watch him remove his favorite knife from a hidden pocket in his jacket. You lick your parted lips. “I really do love this dress. It’d be a shame to destroy it.” You run your hands over your velvet covered curves. “I don't want to take all the fun away though. How about I strip out of this dress and you can cut off the rest. Would that please you, Sir?”

He beams that pantie drenching smile your way while he plays with the knife in his hands. “Strip.”

You slowly reach behind you, lost in his predatory gaze, and unzip your dress. Letting it slink to the floor. You’re left standing in a black, delicate lace strapless corset bra, matching high leg thong and your black patent leather stilettos.

You haven't even noticed that Thor and Steve have entered the room and shut the door behind them. You’re so consumed by the knife wielding Supersoldier before you that you almost don't hear Thor speak to an enthralled Steve. “She’s quite the heavenly sight isn’t she? Completely at his mercy.”

He just nods his head in response and watches on with rapt attention as you surrender to Bucky.

“Come here, Doll.” You step out of your dress and stand in front him, chest rising and falling with excitement. He lifts your chin up with his metal hand and kisses you sweetly. “Turn around for me sweetness. Let Stevie get a good look at how you fall apart when my knife touches your soft buttery skin.”

With a swivel of your hips, you pivot on your heels and face the pair of blonde Adonis’. Back flush against Bucky’s chest, he precedes to run his knife teasingly along your collarbone and down your decolletage. As he reaches your ribs he slides the blade beneath the lacy fabric and pulls, slashing the fabric in half. You gasp, arching your back and grinding against his prominent bulge as your breasts spill forth from the split lace.

Seemingly unfazed he continues on his journey, caressing his knife down your torso until he reaches the waistband of your thong. “You’re going to need to be very still for me babygirl. Unless you want me to accidentally cut you. Blood play is not on the menu tonight baby. If you want that, it’ll have to be a night when I have you all to myself. Tonight is all about your pleasure and seeing if Steve really could fit into our dynamic.” He glides the blade up your right hip and slips it into the band. “I want you to look your Captain in the eyes and...don’t...move.”

“Yes, Sir.” You're ensnared in the heated ocean eyed gaze standing before you, as Bucky renders your thong to a piece of scrap. Breath hitching as he drags his metal hand up the inside of your thigh.

“Mmm. Soaked already. Question is...is it my knife that has you making a mess of your thighs or the audience?”

He brings his glistening fingers to your mouth and you open them, sucking your essence off his metal digits with a moan. “Go on now baby and give Steve a taste of that sweet, sweet, honey covering your tongue.” He slaps you on the ass, sending you on your way to the waiting arms of America’s Golden boy.

Without sparing a moment to let you make the short walk all on your own, he snatches you up and crashes his lips against yours. Tongue delving inside, letting loose a moan as your sweet ambrosia hits his taste buds.

You run your hands into his slicked back hair. Tugging and pulling, making him emit a growl that you can feel vibrating from his chest into yours. He begins a trail of kisses down your throat. When he reaches the juncture between your neck and shoulder, he bites down and sucks a hickey into your soft flesh. Claiming you, leaving his mark for all to see.

Squirming under his onslaught of dominance you're turning into a panting mess. “ Fuck, Captain.” As those words reach his ears he lets out a dark chuckle, “We’ll get there, Doll. Don't you worry.” He begins to ravage your mouth once again, backing you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“I must say Doll, the only thing I can imagine being better than tasting you on your own tongue is lapping it up, right from the source.” With reflexes of those from a man half his size, Steve lays you on the bed. Placing himself down between your thighs, pushing them further apart and up towards your chest, leaving your sweet little pussy, dripping with honeyed slick, open and on full display.

As he's leaving kisses all along your thighs, you catch movement to your right and turn your head to find Thor and Bucky, standing beside the bed, gloriously nude with a large hand wrapped around each of their heavy cocks, slowly stroking themselves to the sight and sound of their sweetness being thoroughly teased.

Driven by the lust coursing through his veins, Thor steps up and runs a hand along your cheek. “Look at you, little one. He has barely begun and your eyes are already glassed over in lust.” He continues his trek down your torso, settling in to tease and torture your hard nipples.

Before you know it Steve is swiping his tongue along your folds, and teasing your engorged little pearl with the tip. Your back arches off the bed at the sensation, sending your breasts further into Thor’s hand, where he proceeds to pinch your nipple, making you cry out. He glances down to find your head thrown back, mouth forming a silent O, while Steve continues to lightly tease your clit.

“P-please Captain. M-m-more. PLEASE.” At this point you're gripping the sheets for dear life. Between the build up of tension throughout the night and the teasing torture currently taking place against your overly sensitive flesh, you’re on a knife’s edge ready to explode. At this point you are certainly not above begging.

Bucky’s strokes speed up as he stands beside the bed near your head. “Fuck, look at you babygirl.” He bites his lip as he spreads his precome along his thick shaft. “I love hearing you beg so sweetly. Steve making you feel good sweetness?”

Before you can answer, Thor takes the opportunity of you being distracted and pinches your nipple, pulling it taut, making you moan and cry out once again. “P-please Bucky. I’m s-so c-close. I want to come for all of you so badly.” You whimper out. “Please. Please, Sir, let me come on his tongue for you.”

Your request has Steve moaning, sending vibrations through your core, causing you to grind against his tongue, searching out friction to soothe that ache deep inside. Your pleas continue on in soft whimpers. “Please. Sir. Please. Please. Please. More. So close.”

No longer willing to wait for permission from Bucky, Steve starts devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. Moaning and groaning as more of your slick slips onto his tongue and down his throat. Slipping two thick fingers in, aiming for your sweet spot and drinking every drop of nectar he is gifted with once his spongy target is acquired.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to increase, letting anyone who is currently on this floor know that debaucherous things are happening. Your thighs begin to shake and your back arches even higher off the bed, eyes rolling back in your head as you finally fall off the edge and climax. Your plush walls grip his fingers tight, gushing onto his tongue and soaking his chin with your juices.

Steve lifts his head from between your legs, a big dopey smile on his face, eyes shining with pride, hair disheveled from your fingers still gripping it tight. You pull him up by the hair and kiss him deeply, licking the taste of yourself from his lips.

You quickly unbutton his shirt, removing it and tossing it aside as he gets rid of his slacks. You notice that the Captain was going commando, very interesting. As he starts to grind his pelvis against yours, barriers no longer between you, you glide your hands down to the tops of his shoulders and whisper, ”My Turn,” before wrapping a leg around his waist and rolling him over onto his back.

Straddling Steve’s torso you run your fingers through his golden strands, scratching along his scalp before gripping tightly and turning his head to the side. Leaning down you set a trail of light kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his ear and tug on his lobe, eliciting a groan and shiver down his spine.

Kneeling between his now spread legs, your teasing trek continues across his chest, down to his abs where you proceed to lick every dissecting line and curve. As you reach the glorious adonis belt that you’ve admired from afar while watching him spar with Bucky, you make sure to leave a hickey right above where you know his waistband normally lies. Leaving a claiming mark of your own, even if you know it will heal far faster than the one he left on you.

You run her tongue along his happy trail, lapping up the mess you left behind. Gripping the base of his rock hard girthy cock, your fingers barely able to touch, you slowly begin to stroke him while you raise your hips and place her free hand next to his waist on the bed.

Now on your hands and knees, ass in the air facing your men, you give a couple of kitten licks to Steve’s angry weeping tip, savoring the salty goodness that is his pre-come dripping down his length. No longer wanting to waste time you wrap your lips around his tip, hollow your cheeks and suck Steve down deep into your throat.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, “Look at you Doll, swallowing my cock like its your job.” You whimper at the praise, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, nose tickling against his patch of golden curls as you stick your tongue out and lightly tease his balls, moaning around his thickness lodged deep in your throat.

“Mmm. Ah, shit! Just like that Honey. Just like that,” he pleads as he feels himself getting closer to his release.

You're so turned on, finally able to service this man you’ve fantasized about, that your pussy is swollen and leaking slick down your thighs and onto the sheets below. Lost in your haze of submission and the filthy words and noises Steve is making, you don't notice your hips are moving enticingly in a figure eight pattern, captivating Bucky, and making his need to be buried deep inside you more intense.

He kneels on the bed behind you and grabs your plump ass, spreading your cheeks to get an even better view of your engorged and dripping pussy. “Mmm mm mm darlin’, your pussy is just drooling. Damn I knew you were a sub, but fuck you’ve made an absolute mess of yourself. You love this don't you baby? Pleasing the Captain in front of your men. Showing us just how much of a good girl you really are.”

You moan in reply, muffled by Steve’s dick still in your mouth, releasing a moan out of him as he laces his fingers through your hair, not moving your head but just holding on, making your pussy clench around nothing, which does not go unnoticed by Bucky.

“I’m going to take that as a yes since your pretty little pussy just winked at me.” He runs his metal hand up your spine, resting it against the back of your neck, giving it a quick squeeze and running it back down again. He strokes his hard length a couple times and teases it against your folds.

“You’re so wet, I could just slide right in sweetness.” He circles his tip around your swollen little bud, making you remove your mouth from around Steve with a whimper. “Do you want that babygirl? Want me to slide right in and wreck you while you deep throat Stevie?”

You bite your lip, turning your head to look at him with hooded eyes. “ Yes, Sir, please. Please use me. Ruin me for anyone other than you all.”

Both Supersoldiers let out a groan. “You better get back to work then babygirl. I won't let you come again until you swallow every last drop that your Captain has to give you.” Bucky demands before thrusting forward to the hilt, stilling for a moment to allow you to adjust to him and just enjoy your warmth.

You whine at the sudden intrusion. “Fuck Bucky. You’re so fucking big, Sir.”

He chuckles, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward, pulling a scream from your lungs. “That’s right baby, scream while you can cause that mouth is bout to be filled to the brim and both sets of lips will be stretched to capacity.”

Bucky looks to Thor standing off to the side of the bed again, meaty hand languidly stroking his length. With the hand still threaded through your hair, Steve brings your mouth back down to his saliva slicked cock. “Take a deep breath for me, Doll, it may be the only one you get for a bit.”

With glazed over eyes you give a small nod, followed by a whispered, ” As you wish, my Captain” before proceeding to take a deep breath.

Bucky and Steve exchange a look with each other, seeming to speak without words. The brunette Sergeant withdraws until just his bulbous tip is all that is left in your quivering petals, while the honeyed blonde Captain has you open your mouth wide while he places his tip along your waiting tongue. With a nod from his best friend they both slowly thrust in at the same time.

Moans erupt from each of them as your eyes roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by the feeling of absolute fullness. Looking down and seeing your little pussy hugging his dick so tight almost has Bucky coming right on the spot. Your walls clench around him as Steve begins to move your head up and down his length, hissing as your throat muscles squeeze around his girth with every swallow. Snapping out of his haze, Bucky grips your hips and sets a furious pace, set on reminding his woman who she belongs to.

The room fills with the sounds of groans, moans, skin slapping against skin and the squelching of wetness from your gushing pussy and the saliva leaking from your mouth. “You’re doing so good, sweetness. Taking our cocks like the good girl you are. Fuck, you were made for us babygirl. No one has ever taken our cocks as good as you do baby.” Getting high off the praise and pleasure you begin to grind back against him, your hips meeting his, chasing your next orgasm.

“Uh uh uh, babygirl. I believe I told you, you don't get to come until you’ve swallowed every drop Steve spends down your throat.” He smacks your ass with his flesh hand. “How bad do you want to come on my cock babygirl? Show me how bad you want it. Drain him dry.”

You relax your throat and moan around Steve as he continues to thrust in and out of your abused throat. You inch your right hand up along the inside of his thigh until you reach his balls, lightly teasing his sack before engulfing his entire length and squeezing them while you swallow.

“Oh shit, Honey.” Steve moans out, throwing his head back and holding your head in place. “Just like that baby. Just like that. Fuuuuuuck that feels so good. I’m bout to come right down your pretty little throat.” With that declaration you squeeze and tug on his balls just a bit harder. Sucking up his length until just the head remains, running your tongue around his tip and teasing his frenulum before taking him to the back of your throat once again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Steve thrusts his hips erratically and with a groan comes ropes down your throat.

Being sure to lick him clean, you open up your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing the Captain that you didn't miss a single drop. “Such a good girl, Doll. You swallowed it all.”

You turn your head towards Bucky, “May I come now, Sir. Please. I’ve been such a good girl.”

Never one to go back on his word, he lifts you up by your hair til your back is flush against his chest, and begins to pick up his pace even more. He places his flesh hand around your throat, lightly squeezing to hold you in place as he fucks you deep, cock rubbing against your sweet spot making you see stars.

With his metal hand he circles your clit making you cry out and once again resort to begging so sweetly. “ Please Sir. PLEASE. Let me come on your cock. I want to come for you Sergeant and have you fill me right up. I want to feel you deep inside me. Please.”

That breaks his last bit of control and he begins slamming his hips against you, hand tightening around your throat. “Then. Come. Right. Now. Babygirl. Come all over my cock like the cockdrunk little whore I know you are and I’ll fill you up so good you’ll be feeling me for days.” With his command you feel the tightening deep in your core explode and you detonate, gushing all over Bucky’s cock and the sheets below, black spots swimming in your eyes as you almost pass out, completely cum drunk and blissed out.

As you begin to catch your breath, sprawled out on top of a Supersoldier, your gaze drifts over to Thor, leaning against the wall, eyes hooded, bottom lip caught between his teeth, dick standing tall and proud against his abs. “Why are you so far away my King?”

“I do not find it suitable for me to partake fully of your body this night as my behavior has not declared me worthy of such pleasures. I will have time to redeem myself when you allow me to do so. For now I am content with watching James and Steven bring you the utmost pleasure. For you deserve nothing but the best in all the nine realms, my Queen.”

Your heart aches at his declaration. You know he never meant to hurt you tonight and is feeling like he failed you. You can’t stand to see him with that dejected puppy dog look in his eyes, standing on the sidelines when he should be in the heat of it all with you.

You remove yourself from the warmth of Steve and go to stand on legs that feel like jelly. You make your way over to the God of Thunder and place your hand over his heart. “What if I told you that your time for redemption is now puppy?”

He gazes down at you, a spark of hope in his eyes that he hasn't yet ruined his chances with you. “I would do whatever is necessary to become worthy of being yours again.”

You run your hands up his chest and throat, stopping to caress his bearded jaw. “That’s the thing, my King. You have always been worthy of me. I need you like I need air to breathe. You are not greater nor lesser because of one bad night. James isn't always perfect. Far from it most days.” You hear Steve laugh and Bucky let out a scoff. “Steven wants in on our dynamic and I’m certain there will be some growing pains as he figures out his place within it as well.”

You place your hands back on his chest. “Mistakes happen. Feelings sometimes get hurt. It’s how you work through them and the lessons you take away that are most important. Don’t hold yourself back because of me. If you want me. You have me. Mind, body and soul.”

He stares at you in shock for a moment, really absorbing your words. You think he may stay steadfast in his self imposed punishment of denying himself pleasure for the night until his large hands are cradling your face and he places his lips upon yours.

The kiss starts out sweet but quickly turns needy and all consuming. Like he’s afraid this is his only chance to prove his devotion to you. “I would love nothing more than to worship every inch of your glorious skin, my Queen but I am afraid that I can not hold back any longer and I need to feel you writhing beneath me and clamping down on my cock in ecstasy.”

The next thing you know you're being lifted off the ground and placed back on the bed between a still nude Bucky and Steve. You watch on as Thor begins to crawl up the bed towards you, leaving a path of kisses in his wake. His massive thighs push yours apart and he runs the thick head of his member along your folds, coating himself in your essence.

You lock eyes with him and whimper. “Please.”

He leans forward and pulls you into a toe curling kiss as he enters the warmth of your cunt. Splitting you open on his thick girth and leaving you no time to adjust as he begins to grind his hips down on yours with every thrust. Foreheads pressed together, completely lost to any one else in the room. It’s just you and Thor in this carnal dance of love and devotion. The room once more fills with the sounds of passion. Steve and Bucky look on in awe as they watch Thor take you apart thrust by thrust.

“Nothing will ever feel as good as your warmth pulsing around me, lost in pleasure. Come for me my Queen. I may not last much longer and I need to feel you let go for me.”

It’s like his words hold a direct link to your clit and with another well placed swivel of his hips you feel yourself lose control as your orgasm takes over. A rainbow of stars flash behind your eyes and the world sounds as if you're underwater.

Everything comes back into focus just as Thor is reaching his own climax. Burying himself deep inside you as he bites down on your shoulder and sprays your womb white with his seed. Panting, he leaves a gentle kiss on the mark his teeth left behind. You run your fingers through his golden tresses and kiss his nose. “I love you my King. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Never again, my Queen.” He kisses your nose right back.

You turn to your left and smile at Bucky. “I love you too James. Always.”

“I never doubted it, babygirl.” He responds, grazing his fingers along your cheek.

Not wanting Steve to feel left out, you turn to him. “And I could so easily fall in love with you Stevie. If you’d let me.”

“I’m all yours to do with what you please, Doll.” He kisses you on the forehead.

The release of endorphins starts to truly invade your body as you slowly blink, drifting off to sleep before they can even get the covers pulled up all the way.

The following morning…

Sunlight drifts into the room, rousing you from your slumber. As you slowly open your eyes, they happen upon a pair of cerulean ones gazing back at you. “You’re aware that watching someone while they sleep is hella creepy right?” You groan out. He just chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

“What’s so funny at this time of day?” Bucky mumbles into your hair as he nuzzles your neck. “Morning darlin’,” he whispers in your ear before placing a kiss on your temple.

“Apparently I am.” You turn your head in his direction. “Morning Bucky,” placing a kiss on his lips, “Please forgive my morning breath.”

The God sleeping on your chest begins to stir. “Good morning my King.”

He places a kiss between your breasts. “Good morning my Queen.”

Smiling sweetly at each other, you all enjoy the lazy morning vibes, running fingers through sex romped hair, caressing any exposed skin that escaped the one sheet that is on you all. Steve breaks the contentedness by clearing his throat. “We better get out there and make an appearance before they send Sam up here to investigate.”

You whine and pout, burying your face in Bucky’s flesh shoulder. “But moving is too much work. Can’t I just lie here while you guys grab food and serve me breakfast in bed?” Thor has now gotten up and headed to the en suite bathroom.

Steve quirks a brow at her. "Not a chance Doll. Come on, let’s go get cleaned up. You’ll feel much better after a hot shower.”

“Fine. But I want to be carried. I’m not sure if my legs are strong enough yet.” You give Steve a sugar sweet smile.

“She always like this in the morning, Buck?”

“Only when she’s been thoroughly wrecked the night before. I rather like when she’s all cuddly and needy. If you won't carry her. I happily will. ” He declares.

“No you go on ahead. I’ve got her. Come on sweetheart.” You reach your arms out to him and he pulls you up with ease. “Wrap your arms and legs around me Honey.” You do as you're told. Burying your face in his neck as he walks you into the bathroom and the extremely large walk in shower. As soon as the hot water falling from the rainfall shower head hits your skin, you let out a pleasurable sigh, melting into the warmth of the spray and the Supersoldier underneath you.

“I’m gonna put you on your feet now Doll so we can clean ya up. You don’t have to do anything. Just stand there and relax. We’ll do all the work.” You just nod your head in reply.

He places you down and you tilt your head back, letting the water wash over you as your men get to work pampering you. You're clean before you know it and you’re being carried over to the sink by Thor. He sets you down and begins to help you moisturize, massaging your favorite lotion into your skin.

Feeling a bit more like your usual sassy self you walk into the room to find the Supersoldiers getting dressed, grey sweats hanging low on each of their hips already, each going commando.

As you're lost in watching the corded muscles of their arms flex as they pull on their shirts, Thor slips one of his over your head and hands you a pair of Bucky’s boxers to wear underneath.

“Thank you puppy.” You put the boxer briefs on and place your hair up, not bothering to try and cover up the hickey Steve gave you that's exposed.

“Everybody decent?” Steve inquires.

“When it comes to clothing, yes. In a general sense, I’d say I'm about 60/40.” You reflect.

“I see the sass has made its way back.” He shakes his head.

“Told ya you should have just let us stay in bed longer. The cuddly and needy Honey only lasts so long before that smart mouth comes back.” Bucky teases.

“Aww don't pout sweetness. I happen to like that sassy mouth of yours. Let’s go get some food in your belly and we can head back here and lounge around the rest of the day doing whatever you please. How’s that sound?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

“That sounds like a wonderful way to spend a Sunday Buck.” You kiss his lips. “Lead the way Captain.”

You all make your way to the common area kitchen where the rest of the team, in various states of awake and hungover, have congregated. All eyes on you as you help Steve gather the things you need to sustain the appetite of two Supersoldiers, a God and their sweet little vixen. Along with a team of misfit superheroes as well.

Lots of eggs, fruit, bacon and of course pancakes are whipped up as you and Steve work around the kitchen together with ease, like you’ve done this forever. It’s a comfort you didn't know you were missing out on til now and you can't wait to see what other things will open up with Steve now in the mix. It gives you a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

As you and Steve continue your little domestic dance, Jane emerges from the hall and makes her way to the table where Thor, Bucky and most of the team are chatting away. She takes the seat across from him and smiles in his direction. “Morning.”

You plate up all of the yumminess on the island bar, buffet style. “Foods up. Grab it while it’s still hot.” Before they can get up with the rest of the team you grab the plates you made for Bucky and Thor and walk to the table. “Not you two. I’ve already got you covered. Sit.” They sit back down and you place a plate piled high with their favorites in front of them.

“This looks amazing. Thank you baby.” Bucky gives you a kiss to the forehead in thanks.

Thor wraps a thick arm around your waist and pulls you down onto his lap, kissing your temple. “James is right. This feast looks most delectable. Thank you, my Queen.”

“I wasn't the only one cooking. Stevie is quite the chef himself. Now eat up. I’m going to make myself a plate.”

“No need, Doll. I’ve already made you one. Gotta keep your energy up.” Steve walks over and places a plate next to Thors, giving you a charming smile and a wink as he takes the seat beside you both.

Everyone returns to the table and begins filling their bellies.

Tony being the little instigator that he is, can't help himself but to fuel the tension in the room. “So Jane. Bruce tells me you’re staying for a while on the compound in one of the rooms on Thor’s floor. I hope the accommodations are to your liking.”

“They are. Thank you Tony.” She politely responds.

“Quiet enough for you? Were you able to get enough sleep last night?” He inquiries with a look in your direction. “I’d really like to know how my soundproofing is working. Based on the large hickey on Honey’s neck there I’m sure it was in use. Thor is a god of fertility after all. I’m sure you remember how a night with him can be.”

“Actually that mark is my doing Tony.” Steve proclaims.

The room goes quiet. All eyes turn to the four of you, who nonchalantly keep eating.

“Wait a second. You’re telling me that you marked up Thor and Bucky’s little vixen and you’re still standing. Am I missing something here? I thought you guys were only in a throuple situation.” Tony looks to you for an answer.

“Things change Tony. They evolve. I’ve been upgraded from a throuple to a harem.” A mischievous smile lights up your face. “What woman wouldn't want to have the attention and devotion of two Supersoldiers and a God. I’ve got more than enough love to give and they each provide me with something different. So why not?”

You look at each of your men. “Steve and I are in the beginning stages, but he fits in like he should have been here the entire time. I won’t deny myself or them true happiness. If things change or someone wants out then we’ll deal with it in the event that happens.” You pop a blueberry in your mouth, slowly chewing as the team processes the news. “So get used to this face being around more often since I have three of them now.”

“More power to ya girl. I was only with Buck in the past and he was too intense for even me. I can only imagine how intense the other two are. As long as you're all happy, I’m good. What you do behind closed doors is none of my business.” Nat commented. Several heads around the table nod their agreement as well as a couple outright verbal approvals.

You were feeling the loving energy filling up the room from everyone except for the brunette astrophysicist, sitting across the table, trying to burn a hole through you and Thor.

“Are you serious right now Thor?” She blurts out. “You’re sharing her with two other men? How could she possibly give you enough if she’s occupying their beds as well?”

“Well that is easy Jane. We all occupy the same bed when she is around.” A bright smile adorns his face. “Also she gives me more than enough by just letting me be me. She has no expectations of me other than to love and respect her. She is such an amazing woman, how could I ever keep her to myself when she not only makes me a better man but James as well? If she wants Steven to benefit from her love, who am I to stop that. She is a Queen and deserves the world at her feet.”

His sweet words have struck you speechless. You run your fingers through his hair and give him the sweetest kiss. Finding your voice you whisper against his lips. “I love you puppy. You deserve the world as well my King.”

Jane scoffs. “This is so ridiculous. I don’t know how you could go from me to her. Such a downgrade. She can't even keep her legs closed for your team mates.”

“Watch it Foster.” Bucky bristles.

You place your hand on his clenched fist that's resting on the table.

“It’s ok, Buck. Not all of us are be frigid bitches.” You stare down Jane. “Listen here Jane. I know you're a big shot astrophysicist. Got a big brain tucked in that skull of yours.” A wicked smile emerges. “ You’d be smart to stop insulting me. The sooner the better. It’s not the God of Thunder, The Winter Soldier or hell even Captain America that you need to be afraid of. I can do far more damage to you than they ever can. Don’t let the sweet exterior fool you. I’m as sly as a fox and not above putting these hands to work teaching someone a lesson.”

Sam and Clint laugh. “Something funny gentleman?” Steve pipes up at the two. They shake their heads no and continue on eating.

“Thank you Captain but they can laugh. The situation is rather funny if you think about it. Being so jealous of someone you stoop to insulting them to try and sway the person you're lusting after to your side.” You shake your head.

“I’m not jealous of you. You don’t even compare to me.” Jane snaps out.

“You’re damn right she doesn’t. She’s on a whole other level than you.” States the good Captain, coming in to defend your honor.

“Language Captain.” He turns to face you at your teasing remark. You just smile all doe eyed and innocent at him.

“That mouth is going to cause me a lot of strife isn't it?” Leaning forward, he pulls you closer to him.

“It just might. But I assure you. You’ll love every minute of it.” You exchange a heated kiss. Uncaring of the audience in attendance at the table.

“See. She can't even keep it behind closed doors, where it's appropriate.” A look of disdain and disgust overcomes the normally calm scientist.

“Appropriate or not, I'm quite entertained. I like a good show with my meals from time to time.” Everyone laughs as Tony breaks the tension.

“Well, it looks like it’s time for this show to hit the road. I was promised a lazy day of lounging around in bed and having my every whim catered to.” You remove yourself from the table, placing your empty plate in the sink. Your men follow suit.

You go to make your exit, stopping at the threshold of the hallway, turning your head over your shoulder and meeting eyes with Jane. “You may want to stay away from Thor’s floor for the rest of the day. We’ll be putting Tony’s soundproofing to the test and I wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities with any sinful debaucherous sounds that may escape.”

Sam, Clint and Tony erupt in laughter as you saunter off down the hall.

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