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thevillainswhore · 5 months

Text

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.”

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?”

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.”

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.”

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?”

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–”

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.

“What the shit–“

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?”

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. ��Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!”

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.”

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?”

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.”

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?”

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.

Had he been listening that whole time?

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.”

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips.

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?”

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.”

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?”

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.

Though, it is short lived.

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before…

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?”

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content.

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself.

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?”

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.”

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.”

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.”

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.”

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it.

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!”

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?”

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.”

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face.

Okay, you think privately, so what?

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard.

Bucky… is a virgin?

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind.

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer.

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.”

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–”

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous.

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.”

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn.

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.

You can’t have that, though.

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go.

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?”

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.”

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.”

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him.

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop.

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!”

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat.

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries.

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair.

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.”

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only–

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?”

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away.

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.”

That meant only one person was responsible.

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night.

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.

Love ya squirt,

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.

Part Two, Part Three

5K notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

Text

No one asked but I’ve decided to post one of my favorite original smut works!

Yandere Short Story: Insatiable

Yandere monster x Afab reader x Yandere ex fiancé

Minors DNI

8.4k words

“Cedric?” A tall, dark haired man glanced up from his paper work to see his small wife at the door. His red eyes gazing at her coldly. “Oh, sorry… my lord. You didn’t reply to any of my letters so I decided to come see you myself. I was wondering if you had time to-“

“I’m busy with work. How about you go take a walk or something seeing that you’re not busy with anything.” Cedric replied coldly, causing the young woman to glance sadly at her hands.

“Oh… I’m sorry-“

“Stop with your needless apologies and shut my door. You’re letting the cold air in.” Cedric hissed before returning to his mountain of paper work.

“Good bye, my lord.” (Your name) softly whispered, a sad look in her eye. The young woman shutting the door before looking at the small, cloth bag beside her. Its contents being one change of clothes, a pouch of water, and some bread.

(Your name) had finally decided to leave him. Her feelings for him had gradually disappeared over the years of being engaged to him seeing that he couldn’t even return a fraction of what she felt for him. It was time for her to leave this loveless, joyless place and to go live as a commoner. Hopefully Cedric would eventually read the letter she had sent him a few days ago about annulling their marriage.

The young woman pulled her tattered cloak over her head, making her way down the manor’s steps with ease.

Not a single servant paying her any mind. A smile made its way to her lips at the thought of finally no longer having to sit in her cold room up in the tower. How she’d be able to travel wherever she wanted and maybe she’d even find someone to love her eventually. How she could finally have friends that didn’t need her husband to pay them to talk to her.

(Your name) soon stood outside the gloomy palace, a smile on her lips. The young woman giving the palace one last look before she headed into the forest.

“Good bye. I won’t miss you.” She then headed into the dark silent forest. Set on leaving the Southern empire forever.

“This tea is bland and terrible.” Cedric complained to his maid who began to sweat nervously. “Why isn’t it here on its usual time and why isn’t it its normal flavor?”

“Ah… the duchess usually takes care of that…” the maid replied before giving the lord a bow. “None of us have seen her in awhile so we had to brew some older leaves.”

Cedric sighed before rising from his chair, causing the maid to gulp at how large he was.

“That stupid woman. I’ll go see what she’s up to now then I guess.” Cedric made his way towards the east end of the manor, climbing up the flight of stairs to (your name)’s room.

A frown forming on his face when he didn’t see a single servant on this side of the manor. Where were all the servants? Shouldn’t she have some around here to clean it?

Cedric stood before the door at the top of the tower. His hand pressing against the old wood. A frown on his face.

“My lady. Can you open the door?” No response.

“My lady?” Cedric pressed his knuckle against the door, causing the door to squeal open. Red eyes widening in shock at the tattered blanket that sat on top of a pile of hay. This couldn’t be her room…

Where was her bed? Her dresses? Cedric burst into the room examining everything in disbelief.

“Can I lay with you, Cedric? It’s starting to get cold?”

Cedric frowned at the memory. (Your name) really was cold wasn’t she? And he always turned her away…

A small desk with letters littering the top of it caught his attention. Was this the only thing she had in her room? As a duchess, she only had this small desk?

Red eyes narrowed at all the letters that were dated and addressed to him. Cedric quickly opened one of the older letters his eyes softening at its contents.

‘I finally was able to get the maids to teach me how to make that chamomile tea you like so much. I hope we’ll be able to drink it together someday. When you’re not busy of course. I love you, Cedric.’

Cedric opened another letter, a dried sprig of baby’s breath falling out of the envelop. His pale fingers picking it up with utmost care. Red eyes scanning over the delicate hand writing.

‘Did you know baby’s breath means everlasting love? Isn’t that neat? I hope that our love is ever lasting as well. I’d like to go on a picnic with you while it’s still spring. If you’re not busy of course. I love you, Cedric.’

‘Today, I saw a pair of swans in the pond in the garden. Did you know swans stay together for life? I read that in a book in the library. I thought it was pretty neat. Maybe it’s childish of me to think that way, but I hope we’ll be like that. I love you, Cedric.’

Cedric continued to tear apart the letters with fervor. Sweat dripping down his neck as his hands began to shake. All of these letters and he’s never read any of them from her… he always returned them back to her… always ignored her… he was starting to get scared…

‘It’s getting colder up in the tower but the maids took my bed. They said they’re freezing too. Is there anyway I could also have some new blankets. I hope that’s not too much of a bother for you. Thank you. I love you, Cedric.’

‘I’ve been sleeping in the library over the winter. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your work. I heard there’s a ball upcoming in the neighboring empire. I’ve never been to a ball before. Is there anyway we could go? I’d really like a new dress. The one I had all these years is starting to get a little loose since we’re so scarce on food. Thank you. I love you, Cedric.’

There was no scarcity in food. Who on earth hadn’t the servants been feeding her? Who took her bed? Her blankets?

Cedric sorted through the letters until the last one stuck out to him.

His pale hand opened the letter, his eyes widening in shock. She had filled out divorce papers… why would she do that?

‘I don’t think you’re ever going to read this until you’ve realized I left. But I want a divorce. I can’t live like this. It’s so cold and miserable here. No one talks to me here. I found out that the only acquaintance I had here, you were paying to talk to me so I wouldn’t bother you… and I was really hurt by that. If I’m really that awful to be with, I’ll go. I just want you to be happy, Cedric. Even if it’s not with me. So good bye, Cedric. If you try to have a conversation with me in a few days I may reconsider but if not, you’ll find this then. I’ll probably be halfway through the forest by then. Good bye, Cedric.’

Cedric began to shake. She had stopped by his office and he had turned her away… he unknowingly sent her away… he sent his loving wife away in the wild… wait.

Didn’t she know the forest was infested with monsters?

“Guards! Hurry. Send a search party to the forest, now!” Cedric threw the letter to the side, screaming on the top of his lungs. His legs running as fast as he could down the steps and through the palace.

The guards rising up in shock before quickly springing into action.

“The duchess has gone missing! She could be in danger!” Cedric shouted, the Duke running to grab his sword and horse. “We have to find her by all means necessary!”

Cedric frowned as he glanced at the dark forest. His eyebrows furrowed in worry. He prayed she was safe. He was so lucky he noticed her absence in just a day…

(Your name) hummed as she walked through the forest without a care in the world. So far, she’s been lucky and she hasn’t ran into a single monster.

She knew there was a possibility she could run into danger but she truly believed the monsters wouldn’t bother her if she didn’t have a weapon on her. Plus, there wasn’t much meat on her bones since she wasn’t being fed at the palace.

“Don’t you know there’s monsters in the woods?” A voice hissed at (your name), causing the girl to glance at a tall man wearing silver armor with an unfamiliar, blue crest on it. The silver helmet completely covering his face.

Well at this point in her journey, she’s going to disregard the stranger danger rule.

“Oh I know. I’m just passing through is all.”

“Either you’re a very brave woman or a very stupid one.” A laugh left her throat as she smiled at the stranger.

“A little of both. I’m just going anywhere to start a new.” The girl smiled at the knight before continuing her way.

“Wait up!” The male trudged after her, standing above her. “You can’t just go walking in the forest by yourself. What if you get kidnapped or killed-“

“Then I get kidnapped or killed.” The knight held in a laugh before offering her an arm.

“I can lead you out of the forest if you’d like. My name is Etrian by the way.”

“That’s a nice name.” (Your name) replied, taking the knights arm. “You can just call me (your first name).”

“Hmm. You have a pretty name.” Etrian smiled at the girl, causing her to furrow her brow.

“It’s a very basic name. It’s not even worth remembering so you can call me anything you’d like.” Etrian tilted his helmet down in worry at her words. Wherever she came from, she more than likely never was treated with kindness.

“I like your name so I’ll call you, (your name).” Etrian replied, causing (your name) to giggle.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed… thank you, Etrian.” Etrian gave (your name)’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“I was on my way to the Lancaster Palace but I think a damsel in distress is much more important at the moment.” Etrian puffed his chest out, causing (your name) to erupt in giggles again.

“Maybe I should call you the brave one then for traveling alone, Etrian.” (Your name) gave Etrian a smile, the male shaking his head in embarrassment.

“It’s a knight’s duty.”

(Your name) laughed some more, allowing Etrian to lead her through the forest. Their playful banter continuing.

Cedric searched the woods with fervor. Easily slaying any monster that crossed paths with them.

“My lord. We found the body of the Northern empire’s diplomat and his party but…”

“But what? Did you find the Duchess?!” Cedric hissed, his red eyes coldly looking at the corpses of the northern empire’s men. But one was missing their armor.

“Where’s his armor?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. It appears a monster may be parading around as a knight.” Cedric sighed before glancing nervously in the forest. He really hoped (your name) didn’t run into that monster…

“Etrian. Do you like being a knight?” (Your name) asked her companion who hummed in response.

“Not really. It’s kind of boring actually.” Etrian responded, his eyes glancing at (your name). “Especially listening to a lord’s orders all the time and standing guard? It sucks.”

(Your name) laughed at his response. “At least you’re honest, Etrian.”

“What about you, (your name)? What were you?”

(Your name) smiled sadly as she glanced at the forest floor, causing Etrian to raise his hands up in alarm.

“Oh I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I was nothing.” (Your name) replied with a solemn look in her eye. “Have you ever felt like that before? Like nothing? My existence didn’t matter where I came from before and after I ended up here.”

Etrian placed a gentle, leather gloved hand on (your name)’s arm. “No I understand completely.”

“Thanks, Etrian. You’re really nice even though I think you’re really strange.”

“How am I strange?”

“You abandoned the task at hand for me, which is very suspicious. But I appreciate you traveling and talking with me… I can’t remember the last time I actually had a conversation with someone.”

Etrian gave her a nod, trying his best not to have his helmet fall off his head.

“Isn’t that helmet uncomfortable? You could always take it off.” Etrian held up his hands as he began to laugh.

“Maybe once we make it out of the forest.”

“Alright. Keep your secrets then.” (Your name) giggled, Etrian watched her walk a little further a head. A black tentacle creeping out from the helmet before quickly slipping back in.

Cedric continued searching, a smile on his face once he saw a pair of footprints.

“She went this way!” Cedric shouted to his men. The men all nodding their heads before following the tracks. “She can’t be far-“

Cedric’s red eyes widened when he saw a second pair of footprints beside hers. Their tracks barely as visible as hers.

“The monster is with her!” Cedric began to breath heavily, his hands shaking as he held the reigns to his horse tightly. He was going to find her. Cedric just prayed nothing happened to her.

“Etrian. You’re really light on your toes.” (Your name) stated, causing Etrian to laugh. “Do you like sneaking around?”

“It’s just an unconscious habit of mine-“ an arrow whizzed by Etrian’s head, causing a scream to leave (your name)’s throat.

“Jesus-“

“My lady, step away from the monster!” one of the knights from the southern empire shouted, pointing his bow and arrow at Etrian.

“Monster? That’s Etrian-“ (your name) replied, only for more knights to show up.

“One of the knight’s armor was missing at the carriage accident up ahead-“

“I can actually explain that.” Etrian replied as he grasped the helmet of his armor before pulling it off. Revealing a handsome man with long silver hair and blue eyes to all the knights. “It’s me. Duke Graham.”

“Duke Graham?! I can’t believe it’s you!” One of the knights laughed, the others all releasing their breath that they were unconsciously holding. “You were the only one missing from the carriage.”

(Your name)’s eyes widened in horror. While everyone else saw a handsome man, she saw a giant black octopus like creature as the head of the knight. Her body started convulsing in shivers.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Etrian asked with worry laced in his voice, reaching a hand out to her. The tentacles moving in every which way, causing (your name) to hyperventilate and take a step back in fear.

“(Your name)!” Cedric rushed over to her, quickly separating her from the monstrous Duke. Cedric quickly dismounting his horse to hold (your name). “I’m so sorry. Please don’t run off again.”

(Your name) didn’t return Cedric’s hug, her eyes focused on the black octopus monster that was known as Etrian.

“Let’s head back home, okay? And Duke Graham. You can ride on one of the other horses we have here with one of the knights. My wife will ride with me.” Cedric stated, hoisting (your name) up on his horse.

(Your name) cast one last look at Etrian, the tentacles waving at her which on caused her to tear up even more.

While with the guards, they only saw Etrian give (your name) a warm smile and a wave. Why was she so scared of him? It wasn’t like she was seeing a monster.

“Why did you try to run off into the forest?” Cedric asked (your name) who sat in the sofa in his office with a blanket tightly wrapped around her. “You could’ve died-“

“It would’ve been better than being here.” (Your name) muttered, pulling the soft blanket closer to herself. “Anything is better than here.”

Cedric stood up from his desk, sitting himself beside (your name).

“I’m going to start being a better husband. I moved your room to be next to mine now and you have a bed again. I also am currently working on investigating all of the staff that has mistreated you. They’re going to have their hands cut off for stealing and then exiled-“

“That’s alright. You don’t have to do any of those things.” (Your name) sighed, wrapping the blanket around her even tighter. “I would like to head to my room. I’m quite tired.”

Cedric held a hand out for (your name) to take, which she ignored. The young woman choosing to stand up with her blanket securely wrapped around her.

“Would you like to have dinner together then?”

“No. Just send it to my room please. It’s kind of late for all of those things, don’t you think?” (Your name) asked, avoiding eye contact with Cedric.

“I… I’ll try more. Just please don’t run off like that again.”

(Your name) opened the door to her room before shutting it quickly. The duchess laying down on the bed in defeat. She really was wishing she would’ve left this place.

It was a shame Cedric had no intention of letting her go. Not to mention that Etrian was also staying with them for the time being.

Etrian sat in Cedric’s office sipping some hot tea. Blue eyes meeting red orbs.

“Thanks for keeping my wife safe-“

“Why did she run off?” Etrian hummed, causing Cedric to glare at him.

“It’s none of your concern, Duke Graham.” Cedric hissed, causing Etrian to smile. Cedric narrowed his eyes at the doll like man.

“She’s really pretty.” Etrian smiled at the peeved expression on Cedric’s face.

“What brings you to the Southern Empire?” Cedric gritted his teeth at Etrian who only gave him a hum.

“Mostly for trading business but seeing that my men were mauled to death and looted by your monster infested forest, I’ll have to wait awhile till we can proceed in business. I may have to stay here awhile as well.”

Cedric sighed in defeat. His red eyes narrowing at Etrian. This was probably the most Etrian has spoken to Cedric in their entire life so far… and it irked Cedric.

“Alright. I can let you stay for awhile. Just please don’t cause any trouble for me.”

“I won’t.” Etrian smiled, causing Cedric to place a hand on his temple.

“I’ll have the maids organize a room for you.”

Etrian beamed at Cedric, his blue orbs shining mischievously. He couldn’t wait to see (your name) again.

Etrian wandered the halls, ignoring the excited whispers of the maids when he passed by. The silver haired man had adjusted well to the staff’s ramblings of his appearance.

“Isn’t Duke Graham really handsome?” One of the maids asked another, causing the other maid to nod in agreement.

“Just like a porcelain doll.”

“I heard he’s unmarried.”

Etrian made his way over to the library, his blue eyes widening once he saw (your name) sitting in a chair in the far back corner. Her focus completely on the book in front of her.

“Ah. (Your name).” Etrian smiled at the duchess, who gave him a nervous glance. Her eyes completely avoiding eye contact with him. “May I sit with you?”

“S-sure.” Etrian pulled out the chair beside (your name), the wooden legs squealing across the floor.

“What are you reading?” Etrian asked, causing (your name) to nervously glance up from her book.

“Oh it’s just a fairy tale story…” (your name) shyly replied causing Etrian to furrow his brow.

“I’m quite fond of fairy tales. Which one is it?”

“Beauty and the beast...”

“That’s my favorite one.” Etrian smiled, his tentacles flailing around excitedly, much to (your name)’s fear. “My mother used to read it to me all the time as a child.”

“That’s really nice.” Etrian tentacles suddenly laid flat on the table, one of them laying on (your name)’s shoulder as if to show that he was concerned for her.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t really looked at me since the forest.” (Your name) gulped, her hands trembling when the tentacles began to slowly caress her body.

“I… I’ve just never seen anyone that looks like you is all…” (your name) replied honestly. She wasn’t wrong. She’s never seen someone with a black octopus like head before and she was terrified.

“Oh… is my appearance not to your liking-“

“My lady. The lord is looking for you.” The butler interrupted her and Etrian’s conversation, the young woman quickly rising up to her feet.

“Ah. Sorry, Etrian. I have to get going.”

Etrian clutched his chest, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Could she really see him for what he truly was?

Etrian glanced at the book she was reading in awe. Was their story going to be just like beauty and the beast? Pure ecstasy consuming him.

She had to be just like his dad. His mom always told him his soul mate would be able to see his true form just like dad could see hers.

“(Your name)…” Etrian couldn’t wait to find out.

“You called for me, my lord?” (Your name) bowed her head to Etrian, who frowned at her formality.

“I did call for you, (your name).” Cedric motioned for his butler to go bring some tea for the two of them. “I’d like to have some tea with you-“

“I’m not very fond of tea.” (Your name) wrapped her arms around herself, ignoring the disappointed look on Cedric’s face. “But thank you for the invite.”

“How about a walk in the garden? You love the garden.” Cedric asked, a hopeful tune in his voice. (Your name) frowned. Didn’t he acknowledge that she had sent him divorce papers? Why on earth was he trying to court her now, of all times?

“Alright…” Cedric held out an arm for her, which (your name) hesitantly took. The dark haired Duke leading her down the halls and towards the garden.

A certain silver haired man watching them from the library’s window. His blue eyes studying the discomfort on (your name)’s face.

“You’re not comfortable around that man are you, (your name)?” Etrian softly whispered to himself, his blue eyes memorizing her soft features on her pretty face. “I wonder if I can make you smile again…”

Etrian’s shadow revealed his tentacles flailing about in excitement. The birds that sat near the window quickly flying away in fear of the monster that was in the palace.

It was a stiff silence between Cedric and (your name). The two walking side by side in the garden without muttering a word to each other.

“There’s some swans in the pond, (your name)…” Cedric smiled, softly breaking the silence. His red eyes glancing at her face, his eyes lighting up when he saw her smile at the swan pair.

He had finally found something that seemed to make her smile… Cedric was starting to get really worried about saving their relationship, especially with someone like Etrian in their home. Cedric had to admit that he was jealous of how beautiful Etrian was but he felt that there was something incredibly off about the silver haired male. Even when they were children, he was almost completely emotionless but he wasn’t that way around (your name)… it was very unsettling to Cedric.

“(Your name), do you like Etrian?” (Your name) froze, her eyes wide at Cedric’s question.

“I wouldn’t say like or dislike… I’m…” Afraid. (Your name) thought to herself. I’m afraid of him. “Indifferent towards him. He’s a Duke from the northern empire so I have to be respectful to him is all.”

Cedric hummed, the Duke satisfied with her answer. His wife was a very respectful young lady, he didn’t doubt her answer at all.

(Your name) narrowed her eyes at Cedric. Cedric couldn’t be jealous, could he? It wasn’t his place after years of being together without him ever caring about her personal life or feelings.

“It’s cold. I’m ready to head back inside.” The couple made their way back in, unaware that Etrian had overheard their conversation.

The silver haired man determined to have (your name) change her mind about him.

Etrian had found out many things about (your name) over the last few weeks he’s been staying in the Lancaster’s palace.

(Your name) used to live in a tower here, she didn’t like tea, she liked to write and read, her favorite food was (favorite food), she liked to eat pudding sometimes as well, her favorite color was (favorite color), and she was almost always alone. Just like Etrian usually was.

Etrian was thrilled to be finding out all this information from the maids who were more than thrilled to talk to him. The Duke was especially happy that one of the maids had even slipped up and told him that (your name) was trying to divorce the Duke. It made Etrian’s heart soar at the thought of (your name) being on the market for marriage.

It wasn’t very hard for him to bribe one of the maids into sending that paper work to the emperor either. Which would make his end goal even easier to achieve.

Etrian peaked his head in the library, a smile on his face when he saw (your name) sitting in a chair, sketching some birds that sat in the window. He’d have to add drawing to his mental list of her hobbies.

“Hello, (your name).” (Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes when Etrian snuck up behind her. One of his tentacles affectionately caressing her cheeks, something she tried to ignore.

“H-hi, Etrian.” (Your name) responded quietly. Placing her pencil down on the table.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute. I missed seeing you around.” (Your name) tried to hold her tears in when his tentacles slowly began to wrap around her body, caressing her affectionately.

Over the course of Etrian’s stay, she’s noticed that his tentacles tend to tell his emotions. She could tell when he was excited, upset, annoyed, happy, or even sad. And the tentacles were especially fond of her, touching her any chance they got, much to her displeasure.

“I’ve been around. I’ve just been spending a lot of time with my husband is all.” (Your name) tried not to flinch when she saw the tentacles suddenly point at her like swords. It’s seems she upset Etrian by mentioning Cedric. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

The tentacles instantly relaxed, going back to their idle position of affectionately caressing her.

“How about you draw me?” Etrian asked, a soft smile on his lips. He really wanted to know how (your name) saw him.

(Your name) smiled, opening a new page to her sketchbook, her body shaking when Etrian took a seat in front of her. The black tentacles retracting into themselves, as if they too, were folding together like his black gloved hands on the table.

(Your name) shakily got to work. Tears gathering in her eyes as she continued sketching the monster she saw in front of her.

Etrian frowned at her nervous expression. Why was she so nervous? Didn’t she understand that they were soulmates because she could see him?

(Your name) glanced up, her face going pale when she saw two tentacles directly pointed at her eyes. The tentacles opening up to reveal two icy blue eyes staring directly at her.

Etrian smiled brightly. She finally made eye contact with him-

A lord thump was heard, (your name) had fallen out of her chair. Etrian quickly rose up, his hand grasping (your name)’s shoulders, helping her up.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” His eyes widened at the drawing that she had made so far. A dark octopus like head sat on top of his body, a deranged smile crawling on Etrian’s lips. He was so excited. She could see him.

“I-I’m sorry, Etrian. I… I need to go.” (Your name) stuttered out before she grabbed her book. “I’ll see you around!”

Etrian could only watch as she took off, his blue eyes glancing at the pencil she had dropped in excitement.

She could see him… she could see him. The real him. The monstrous curse his mother and him both had.

Etrian picked up the discarded pencil, blue eyes glancing around the library, making sure no one was watching him.

Etrian then placed the pencil in his mouth, suckling on the wooden utensil as his eyes rolled back in his head. Etrian wondered how her fingers would taste in his mouth when he-

Oh he was getting a little too far ahead of himself. He needed to calm down a bit before revealing his insatiable lust for her.

A very disturbed Cedric stood outside of the library. Why in the world was Etrian eating a pencil?

The dark haired Duke now more determined than ever to keep Etrian away from his wife. By all means necessary.

(Your name) laid in her bed. Her form covered in a lightweight, white gown. It was a little chilly at night, but nothing she couldn’t manage. It was the feeling of eyes on her that she couldn’t shake off.

(Your name) slowly rose from the bed, shutting the curtain to her balcony. The feeling still not leaving her. Perhaps she was being paranoid after the library incident.

(Your name) made her way back to bed, the duchess pulling as many blankets as she could on top of herself. Maybe if she went to sleep, she’d be able to relax?

As (your name) drifted off, she failed to notice a body laying under her bed. A certain silver haired man crawled out from underneath her bed before he stood over her, blue eyes greedily taking in the sight before him.

Tentacles gently began to caress her body, a soft groan leaving her throat before she unconsciously cuddled into the warm appendages, causing a smile to crawl on Etrian’s face.

He knew she would grow used to him. Maybe if he started visiting her every night, she’d stop fearing him as much. Etrian reached a hand out to brush some of her hair out of her face.

His soulmate was so pretty and cute… he couldn’t wait to steal her away from here…

Etrian hummed before walking over to her little desk in the corner. The male setting down a small (favorite flavor) pudding on her desk.

Hopefully she’d like his little surprise for her.

(Your name) had terrible nightmares last night about a certain tentacle man. Her body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“My lady, your husband would like to have breakfast with you.” One of the maids said at the door, the maid’s eyes widening at the helping of pudding on (your name)’s desk. “Did you order pudding last night?”

“Pudding?” (Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion before her eyes widened in shock at the (favorite flavor) pudding that sat on her desk. “I didn’t ask for pudding…”

(Your name) smiled softly. Maybe Cedric had gotten her some. He has been a lot more attentive lately.

“Tell him I’ll be there. I just have to clean up a bit.”

The maid nodded before heading off, leaving (your name) to wonder who left her the mystery pudding.

“Thank you for the pudding, Cedric.” Cedric furrowed his brow in confusion at (your name)’s statement. “It was a nice sweet treat to have after a nightmare last night.”

“Pudding? I never sent you pudding.” (Your name)’s face turned pale at Cedric’s words, a concerned look now on Cedric’s face as well.

“Then who knew I liked pudding and even my favorite flavor?” (Your name) nervously glanced over to the side. A certain man with a black octopus head, began to flail around excitedly before holding its tentacles like a shy school girl. And why were they slightly wet this time?

Cedric followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing at the stoic Duke. There was no way Etrian was holding a torch for his wife right? Etrian wouldn’t sneak into her room to drop off pudding… no. Etrian was eating a pencil the other day. There was a chance Etrian was weird enough to break into a lady’s room.

“Good morning, Duke and Duchess Lancaster.” Etrian bowed to the other dukes, his blue eyes studying Cedric face while his tentacles excitedly rubbed (your name) face. “I will be heading back to my empire in a week. I had a lovely stay here.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Duke Graham.” Cedric gave Etrian a tight lipped smile, red eyes focused on the uncomfortable expression on (your name)’s face.

“I also heard a fun little rumor during my stay here.” Etrian placed a hand over his chin, an amused expression on his face. “I heard you two are getting a divorce.”

“That isn’t going to happen now-“

“Well you should’ve told that one little maid. Seems she sent the paperwork over to the emperor-“ Cedric quickly rose to his feet, his loud voice booming at the staff to quickly intercept the letter to the emperor.

Etrian and (your name) now the only two left in the dining room. Etrian turned his head towards (your name), causing her to gulp in fear.

“You’ll be single by the end of this week and I’ll be leaving home. When the emperor gets that letter, you’ll be demoted to a commoner.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles tightly wrapping around (your name), Etrian pulling her hand up to his face. Her body flinching when she felt his soft lips press against her hand. “So why don’t you become my wife? You won’t have to live as a commoner then and I’ll treat you well. Plus you can see what no one else can…”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. You can see me. The real me. And I can show you pleasure you’ve never felt before. Just think about it. I have 8 extra appendages compared to the average man.” Etrian whispered in her ear. “I’m also one of the richest men in the four empires. You’ll never have to struggle or starve again.”

“Why me?” (Your name) whimpered, the tentacles slowly moving lower on her body, a few teasingly squeezing her legs and hips.

“Because you can see me just like my dad can see my mom. Don’t you get it? We’re soulmates, baby.”

(Your name) nearly cried when he pulled away. The tentacles smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes.

“Just think about it, okay?” Etrian smiled, the tentacles flailing around excitedly. “I promise you’ll be very happy.”

“You bastard!” An angry Cedric hissed, a fist colliding into Etrian’s face, the silver haired man barely moving. The tentacles now pointing at Cedric like swords, causing (your name) to freeze in terror. “Why would you do that?! You sent that letter a week ago-“

“You don’t appreciate your wife. I found all those letters, Cedric.” A taunting chuckle escaped Etrian’s throat, the tentacles sharpening as they prepared to strike Cedric at any moment. “You’ve probably never even touched her-“

“Please stop!” (Your name) stood in between the two, tears cascading down her face. Cedric’s heart clenching at her terrified expression. It was just an argument, why was she so scared? “I’ll go with you. Just please don’t hurt Cedric. Please…”

Cedric froze when he saw the thrilled smile on Etrian’s face. Leather gloves hands held (your name) face with such tenderness, it made Cedric sick to his stomach.

“I’ll make you so happy. You’ll never be sad again.” Etrian cooed, his blue eyes gleaming at Cedric. “You can stay in my room for the time being seeing to it that you’re now a single woman. I’ll get you a nice pretty ring when we reach my empire.”

“What does he mean (your name)? You’re not going to marry him are you?” Cedric froze at the defeated look on (your name)’s face. Her (eye color) orbs tiredly glancing at Cedric.

“I’m sorry, Cedric.” Cedric could only hug himself as he watched his wife be dragged away by Etrian. The silver haired Duke excitedly droning on and on about how much she was going to love their new life together.

Cedric peaked through the doorway of (your name) and Etrian’s room. His heart clenching when he saw how he tenderly held her in his arms.

It wasn’t fair… if Cedric never messed up, she would’ve never met Etrian… she would’ve never divorced him… they’d still be happy…

But were they ever happy? No… Cedric couldn’t remember the last time they shared a smile together or even a dance. Cedric never really deserved her… but he didn’t think Etrian did either.

Cedric could only watch as (your name) and Etrian headed off to the northern empire in a carriage together. The silver haired man fretting over her every need while Cedric could only watch from his study’s window in utter distaste and envy.

“My lord, she left you a sketchbook.” Cedric glanced at the book, tears gather in his eyes as he looked at all the intricate drawings of birds. The swans being his favorite.

The last drawing was what made Cedric’s blood run cold. A terrifying eldritch monster with a black octopus head over Etrian’s body stared back at him, a small note in the bottom of making a shiver run down Cedric’s spine.

‘I can see him, Cedric. He likes that I can see him. Help me.’

Now Cedric knew why she was so terrified of Etrian… it was because he was a monster.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my mother.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles excitedly flailing around the carriage. One grasping (your name)’s chin. “You’ll like her.”

“(Your name)… are you sad?” Etrian asked, the male grasping her hands in his gloved ones. “You won’t ever feel like nothing here. I’ll treat you to whatever you like.”

(Your name) could only fully glance out the window. Her heart aching as she began to miss Cedric. She hoped he would at least be happy…

A tentacle suddenly gave her a tight squeeze while another forced her head to look at Etrian. Smooth lips pressing against her own, her body shaking in fear as the tentacles began to grope her body.

Etrian pulled away, her eyes widening when she finally got to see some semblance of a face on the man. A smile crawling on Etrian’s face.

“There. Don’t think of other men around me. I don’t like it.”

(Your name) could only silently cry as Etrian continued to press kisses on her face. His lips burning her with the passion he held for her.

“We’re going to have our wedding in a few days time once we arrive. Is there somewhere you’d like to go? Or something you’d like to do when we get there?”

“I’m alright for now. Thank you, Etrian.” (Your name) politer responded, folding her hands in her lap nervously.

Etrian smiled before continued to excitedly chatter on about the wedding. His tentacles dancing around excitedly.

A regal woman with long silver hair and bright blue eyes stood outside of the Graham palace. Her cold gaze focusing on the carriage that had arrived.

Former Duchess Guinevere had gotten the news that her son had found a bride while he was in the southern empire. She just didn’t think her son would latch onto the other duke’s former wife so quickly.

Her eyes glared at the pretty young woman who exited the carriage, her eyes widening when she saw her son’s tentacles all over the girl. The girl subtly trying to push them off. Her son had found his soulmate… Etrian had found his soulmate!

A bright smile was on the former duchess’s lips, the servants immediately blushing and whispering to each other. Guinevere never smiled and here she was smiling at the fiancée her son had brought.

“Welcome home, son. I see you brought me home a daughter as well.” Guinevere smiled, her blue eyes gazing intensely at the trembling woman who wouldn’t look her in the eye. Was it a possibility she could see Guinevere’s true form as well? How interesting…

(Your name) tried her best not to cry at how much larger the octopus like creature that Etrian called his mother was. She was terrified at how the other woman’s tentacles were poking her face as well.

“It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, duchess.”

A hearty laugh let the woman’s throat, the regal woman gesturing for her servants to make her new family member feel welcome.

“Please. Call me mother.”

(Your name) tried her best not to cry at the feast Etrian’s family held for them. Etrian’s mother’s tentacles were all over the former Duke. Who didn’t seem to mind as much as (your name) did.

“Welcome, my dear. I see you’re still getting used to Etrian’s… quirks.” The former Duke, Rolfe, smiled at the young couple. His eyes narrowing at his son intensely staring at (your name). “Etrian, I’d like for you to start a toast for your lovely fiancée here.”

Etrian quickly sprang to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding (your name)’s. While to other held up a glass of Chardonnay.

“I’d like to raise a toast to my lovely fiancée, (your name). I cannot wait to be wed to such a lovely girl who can stand to be around the real me.” No she could not. (Your name) was doing her best not to pass out at the table right then and there at all the eyes (and tentacles) that were on her.

“(Your name), my dear. I’m so happy my son seems so fond of you. He was such a lonely boy growing up…” Guinevere sighed, her tentacles cradling her body as she continued to talk about Etrian. “He loves reading all the time. I swear he loved books more than his own mother-“

“Mother. Please. You’re embarrassing me.” (Your name) could only smile politely as Etrian’s tentacles pulled her closer to him. The male pressing a kiss to her head.

Guinevere only smiled all knowingly at her son and husband. Rolfe sighing before gazing at the young couple. “You both have our blessing. We can have the wedding as soon as you’d like-“

“Tomorrow.” Etrian stated boldly, causing his father to laugh.

“Impatient just like your mother was.” (Your name) could only watch as Rolfe tenderly caressed his wife’s affectionate tentacles. “I’ll send some dress makers down to your room tonight then.”

“Dear, remember when we were young?” The older couple soon got into a private and affectionate banter. The two giggling and whispering to each other like a young couple in love.

“See? You’ll be happy here.” Etrian stated, the young Duke pulling out (your name)’s chair. “How about we go on a walk while those two continue to flirt?”

(Your name) nodded, hesitantly taking Etrian’s hand as the much taller male lead her out of the dining room.

Her octopus fiancé motioning to the portraits on the wall of the most beautiful family she’s ever seen. Rolfe being the only one she recognized in the portraits.

“Who are they?”

“You don’t recognize your own fiancé?” Etrian chuckled as he pointed to the tall handsome man with long silver hair in the portrait. “I’m right there or can you only see these?”

(Your name) tried not to squeal when the tentacles starting tickling her, trying her best not to smile at how playful Etrian was being.

“I… I can only see those.”

Etrian suddenly pulled her to himself, pressing a long kiss to her left collarbone.

“My mother said my father finally saw what she truly looked like on their wedding night. So maybe you’ll just have to wait till then to see me.”

(Your name) smiled, casting one last look at the handsome man in the portrait. There was no way that person and this tentacle abomination were the same person.

But then again, Rolfe seemed super into Guinevere with or without her tentacles…

(Your name) stood at the alter across from a more than eager Etrian. The tentacles on his head flailing around excitedly while also trying not to touch her until after the ceremony was over.

“You may kiss the bride-“ the marriage officiant didn’t even get to finish his words before Etrian pulled (your name into a passionate kiss, (your name) shutting her eyes so she didn’t have to see how the tentacles were running themselves down every inch of her body.

The crowd going wild at how happy Etrian seemed, much to the dismay of Duke Lancaster who sat the farthest away from the ceremony. The Duke fiddling with a dried sprig of baby’s breath. He was here for closure but he didn’t want to accept the fact that his wife had practically been forced to marry some sort of tentacle monster.

Etrian pulled away before scooping (your name) up in his arms as the crowd cheered for their union. The silver haired Duke giving Cedric a victorious smirk.

Etrian had won. (Your name) was his wife now. He even had something planned for Cedric as well. Something that would make sure that Duke get over (your name) for good.

.��

Cedric groaned, red eyes widening as he realized he was bound and gagged in a chair. The Duke of Lancaster nervously glancing around until he saw Etrian standing in front of him. The silver haired Duke giving Cedric a smirk.

“I’m going to let you watch our wedding night.” Etrian smirked, causing Cedric to scream at him through the gag, only for no sound to come out. “And maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you in. I feel kind of bad for stealing your wife but I’m not opposed to sharing her.”

Cedric’s red eyes widened when Etrian pulled out a syringe. The dark haired Duke thrashing in his restraints, causing Etrian to shush him.

“It’s just a very strong aphrodisiac. I want you to feel everything and I also gave some to (your name) as well. I want both of you to be as aroused as possible. Plus you’ll be able to see what she can see while you’re on these drugs.”

No… he didn’t mean. Cedric gasped when Etrian stabbed the needle into his bare leg, pupils going wide at the true form of Etrian being revealed to him.

“God. I’m going to love this.”

Cedric could only slightly struggle, the friction from the rope turning him on. The male watching helplessly as (your name) stumbled into the room. The poor girl a panting mess as Etrian slowly began to toy with the lacy white undergarment that hid her body from Cedric’s eyes.

“Look, (your name). I brought your ex-husband here to watch as I defile you.” A sharp gasp left (your name)’s throat when two of Etrian’s tentacles squeezes her chest, the poor girl panting as Etrian ran his hands down her hips and dipped by her privates. “We’re gonna give him a show, okay? And if you’re both good, I’ll let him fuck you too.”

Cedric gasped when the tentacles suddenly ripped apart the lingerie on (your name)’s body his greedy eyes taking in the soft curves of her bare body. His head spinning with lust at the thought of being able to touch his wife.

Etrian suddenly wrapped two tentacles around her wrists, holding them in place as he positioned himself behind her. (Your name) moaning loudly at how rough Etrian was being.

“What do you say, (your name)?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please… take me, Etrian.” Etrian’s pink tongue darted out to lick her tears away, causing (your name) to blush. Right now she was able to see Etrian’s human face while under the influence of the aphrodisiac, much to Etrian’s joy.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl, (your name).” Etrian sheathed himself in one thrust in (your name) a strangled cry escaping her throat as he started to pound into her like a madman. “Shit. Look at how well you take it.”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” (Your name) began to cry as she felt her body being pounded into and Cedric’s eyes on her. “It feels so good!”

“Does it? How about this?” (Your name) began to cry as she felt Etrian’s tentacles rub against her clit, practically seeing stars at the intensity they were going.

“Etrian! I’m going to-“ Etrian tightly grasped (your name) body. The white haired man releasing deep inside of her as (your name) rode out her orgasm. The Duke kissing her face as he turned to look at Cedric who had a mess between his legs as well.

“You’re a sick freak, Cedric. Getting off watching another man fuck your wife.”

Etrian cut Cedric’s binds with one of his tentacles before motioning over to the moaning mess that was (your name). “Have at it.”

Cedric slowly rose up before greedily pressing kisses onto (your name)’s bare skin. The dark haired Duke slipping himself into her with ease. His pale hand grasping her hips tightly as he drilled into her doggy style.

“Fuck. I love you, (your name).” Cedric cried as he started to go into a brutal pace. “We could make this work right? A throuple?”

(Your name) cried and moaned as Cedric continued to pound into her poor abused body. Etrian placing his thumb in her mouth as he stroked his cock in another hand.

“Shhh. How about you put me in your mouth while he has his fun. It’ll be nice to have something in your pretty mouth.”

(Your name) could only nod her head as Cedric continued to pound into her. His balls slapping roughly into her ass as she started choking on Etrian’s cock.

“Look at that. Such a good girl taking two cocks. You’re gonna be both of our wife. It’ll be fun won’t it?” Etrian cooed as Cedric started to cry.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna get you pregnant, (your name).” Cedric threw back his head as he came deep inside (your name) the other Duke panting as he collapsed beside (your name), who continued to suck off Etrian.

“Look at us, (your name). All three of us are practically insatiable.” Etrian cooed as he watched Cedric start eating (your name) out.

“I told you I’d make you happy here.” Etrian cooed, (your name) pulling herself away from his cock to whisper.

“Yes I love it here, Etrian. I love you and Cedric so much. Ah!”

“Such a good girl.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles wrapping around (your name) as he continued to play with her body. “You’re gonna be pregnant with twins by the time we’re finished with you.”

“Thank you… thank you…” (your name) cried as she felt her body be flipped over by Cedric who decided he was going to go for another round.

“Isn’t she such a good girl, Cedric.” Cedric nodded his head as he started pressing hot kisses on (your name)’s body.

“You should be happy to know that you two never actually divorced and now the both of us are married to her. My empire just allows polyamory so it’s easier for us to have fun here.”

“Isn’t that fun, Cedric? We’ll all be one big happy family.” Etrian soon pushed (your name) onto Cedric’s lap, who was still pounding into her like a madman.

Etrian positioned himself behind (your name), a wicked smile on his beautiful face.

“Now let’s see how well you can handle two cocks in one hole.”

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estrellami-1 · 4 months

Text

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #idk if it’s clear or not but Steve and Eddie ARE dating in this one!!#getting kicked out #Steve Harrington has shit parents #hopefully this isn’t terrible ig #starambles

2K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 7 months

Text

Mine

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos wants everyone to know you’re his and he knows exactly how to make that happen

Warnings: 18+ content heavily implied, manipulation, tampering with birth control, pregnancy

“Who was that?”

You glance up to find Carlos’ gaze fixed on the rearview mirror of his sleek Ferrari, eyebrows furrowed. His usually cheerful brown eyes are clouded with something you can’t quite place.

“Who?” You ask, feigning ignorance though you know he’s referring to the tall, blond man who had lingered just a bit too long by your side during the after-race party.

“The cabrón in the blue suit,” he grinds his teeth. “Never seen him around before.”

“Ah,” you laugh, reaching out to playfully flick at the bridge of his nose, “just someone from the event planning team. Harmless.”

Carlos doesn’t smile back. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and the set of his jaw becomes more pronounced. “He touched your arm.”

“He was just being friendly,” you reason but a hint of defensiveness creeps into your voice.

There’s a pause as Carlos winds the car through the foreign streets. You can feel his frustration.

“You’re being naive,” he finally says. “It’s not just him. Everywhere we go, I see them looking at you. The way Daniel winks at you, how Lewis always finds an excuse to chat, even the staff and the fans. Don’t you see it?”

It’s not like you can deny that. Ever since the two of you went public with your relationship, attention has been inevitable. You’re the envy of many and the object of desire for countless others. But Carlos’ brooding possessiveness is new and you’re not sure how to address it.

“They’re just our friends,” you murmur. “And fans are fans. They’re excited to see you and by extension me too. That’s all.”

He exhales heavily. “It’s not just about them being friends or fans. It’s the entitlement, the audacity they have, thinking they can just ... approach you like that. Like they have any shot with you.”

You roll your eyes even though he won’t see it while focused on the road. “I can handle myself. Besides, I chose you. They’re nothing to me.”

The car pulls up to the entrance of a crowded nightclub, its entrance flashing with neon lights. Carlos stops in front of the valet, swiveling in his seat to face you.

You’re taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” he says in a husky whisper, “you chose me. And I chose you. But I can’t stand by and watch these pretenders think they have a shot with you.”

You swallow hard, shocked by the raw emotion in his voice. “You can’t control who talks to me or looks at me. I love you and that’s all that matters.”

He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I know,” his lips brush your skin. “But I also know how men think and I won’t stand for them disrespecting you or our relationship.”

“We’re in the public eye. This is something we will always have to deal with. Trust me, trust us.”

His gaze searches yours, dark eyes imploring. “I trust you,” he says. “It’s them I don’t trust.”

You wrap your fingers around his much bigger ones. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

Carlos sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I just … I can’t bear the thought of anyone else ever having you.”

Your heart swells. “Mi amor, I’m not going anywhere. The ring on my finger is there because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He pulls you across the console, setting you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you while ignoring the valet waiting right outside the car. “I know. I just ... I need to make sure that everyone else knows too.”

***

Carlos finds himself in a dimly lit pharmacy aisle, heart racing. The overhead fluorescent lights throw ghostly shadows between the narrow rows. He can hear the soft hum of a distant conversation, punctuated by the rustling of paper bags and the occasional beep of the cash register.

But for Carlos, everything feels distant, like he’s viewing the world through a thick veil.

He stops in front of a shelf, his gaze locking onto the birth control pills. Rows upon rows of them, each promising freedom … autonomy.

His mind rushes back to the countless conversations he’s had with you.

“I want to finish school first,” you would always say earnestly. “Kids are a big responsibility. We have all the time in the world for them later.”

But Carlos doesn’t feel like he has time. He has fought with this internal battle for months. The thought of marking you as his, of the world knowing through the unmistakable swell of your belly, appeals to his most primal instincts.

“Can I help you?” A voice interrupts his thoughts.

He turns to see the pharmacist looking at him with a tentative smile. He tries to gather his thoughts, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “I, um, need some pills. Sugar pills.”

The pharmacist frowns. “For a placebo effect?”

Carlos nods, trying to seem nonchalant. “Yeah, something like that. My little cousin needs them for her science fair project.”

She hesitates for a moment then reaches behind the counter, pulling out a small box. “We have these. They’re usually used for clinical trials but they should do the trick.”

He pays for the pills and quickly hides them in his pocket. He thinks about how you would react if you ever found out. But the thought of you carrying his child, the undeniable mark of his claim clear for all to see, is too much to resist.

The next morning starts as it always does. You stretch and make your way to the bathroom, your daily routine staring with the familiar sound of the pill package being opened.

Carlos stands at the doorway, watching as you take your daily birth control. He knows he should feel guilty but instead he is consumed by a heady mix of anticipation and possessiveness.

He imagines your body changing, growing round.

“Morning,” you smile up at him.

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Morning. How did you sleep?”

You lean into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “Like a baby. Must have been the post-race celebrations.”

Carlos chuckles but there’s a tension to it, an undercurrent of something more. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins.

You pull back slightly to look up into his eyes, “Mmmh. About?”

“Us. Our future.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What about it?”

He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. “I want to start a family with you,” the words come tumbling out in a rush. “I know you want to wait but the thought of you carrying my child … our child ... I can’t get it out of my head.”

“I love you," you choose your words carefully. "So much. But I’ve told you how I feel. I’m not ready.”

He lets out a heavy breath, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. “I know. I just can’t help how I feel.”

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” you press a kiss to his bare chest. “I promise.”

***

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling his eyes linger on you as you change out of your dress. The dimly lit bedroom is filled with the ambient sounds of Mallorca nightlife. From the open balcony door, you can hear the soft crash of waves and distant murmurs of evening revelers.

Carlos chuckles lowly. “Like what?”

“Like you’re planning something,” you eye him suspiciously but your voice is playful

He stands, taking a few purposeful steps towards you. “Maybe I am,” he corners you against the wall. The heat of his body warms your own, even through the layers of clothing.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Planning what?”

He leans down, lips grazing the curve of your ear. “To remind you,” he whispers, “that you’re mine.”

You shiver at his words, the dominant tone sending a thrill down your spine. “Is that so?” You challenge, arching a brow.

His hands slide down your waist, pulling you impossibly close. “Very much so,” he replies, sealing his words with a searing kiss.

As the two of you move to the bed, there’s an urgency, a raw need that wasn’t there before.

Every touch, every kiss, every caress feels even more intense than usual.

“Why are you so ... insistent tonight?” You gasp out through the overwhelming rush of sensations.

Carlos halts momentarily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. “I want to make sure you never forget,” his voice is rough. “Forget what we have. Forget how deep this goes.”

“I could never forget,” your fingers move with a mind of their own to tangle in his hair.

His lips find yours again. “Promise?”

You nod, getting lost deeper and deeper in the moment. “Promise.”

Hours pass in a blur of passion and whispered confessions. The intensity of Carlos’ actions betrays an underlying need and desperation that are hard for you to place.

As the sun rises above the horizon outside, you find yourself curled up against Carlos’ chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“You were different tonight,” you murmur as your eyes slowly lose their battle against sleep.

Carlos tenses momentarily. “I just wanted to make sure you know," he says lowly. “Know how much I need you. How much I want you.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, studying his face. “I know,” you brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “But what brought this on?”

Carlos hesitates, searching for the right words. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to try to come between us,” he admits. “And I need to make sure that never happens.”

Your heart aches at his words and the vulnerability in his eyes. “Nothing is going to come between us,” you lean over to capture his lips tenderly. “We’re much stronger than that.”

Carlos smiles and flips himself on top of you once more. “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

“Ouch!” You exclaim, pulling away as Carlos’ hands brush against your chest. The sudden sensitivity catches you off guard.

Carlos raises an eyebrow, eyes darkening with a mix of concern and something else — something unreadable. “Mi corazón? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of the unexpected pain. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of ... off lately.”

He moves closer, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “How so?”

You shrug, “Just more sensitive, I guess. And tired. And don’t even get me started on how my clothes have decided to stop fitting properly.”

Carlos smirks, a hint of smugness playing on his lips. “Maybe you’ve just been enjoying Spanish cuisine a little too much.”

You roll your eyes, swatting him playfully. “Funny. But seriously, it’s weird. I’ve been doing my workouts, eating right, and still ...”

He pulls you close, fingers tracing the smooth curve of your waist. “I like the changes,” his voice is muffled as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

You shiver, torn between the pleasure of his touch and the lingering feeling that something just isn’t right. “It doesn’t feel like me,” you try to shake off the unease.

Carlos tightens his grip, gaze intensely locked on yours. “Maybe it’s just ... natural changes. You know, as we get older.”

You frown, pulling away slightly. “But I’m in my twenties. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, bodies change. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You’re not convinced but you nod, pushing the uneasy feeling to the back of your mind. “Maybe.”

Carlos watches you closely, the smugness returning to his features. “Besides,” he says, voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I kind of like the changes. You look ... fuller.”

You blush. “Thanks, I guess.”

He laughs, pulling you close again. “Always so modest,” he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You melt completely against him, the warmth and familiarity of his touch pushing away the unease, at least for the moment.

But as the days pass, the changes become more pronounced, the nagging feeling that something is wrong growing stronger.

Carlos, on the other hand, seems happier than ever, his possessiveness reaching new heights. He is constantly by your side, his touch lingering, his gaze intense.

“You’re glowing,” he comments one day, eyes tracing your body.

You roll your eyes but hide a smile. “I think you need to get your eyes checked.”

“I’m serious. There’s something … different about you. I like it.”

You frown, trying to make sense of his words. “Different how?”

He thinks for a moment, searching for the right words. “You just seem more radiant. More alive.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “I think you’re seeing things.”

Carlos smirks. “Maybe,” his hands slip under the material of your shirt, caressing your slightly bloated belly. “Or maybe I just know you better than you know yourself.”

***

“I’m what?” Your voice wavers as you clutch the edge of the doctor’s desk in shock, the coolness of the surface grounding you.

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looks between you and Carlos. “You’re pregnant,” she repeats gently, handing over the sonogram.

Carlos breaks into a wide grin. “That’s incredible!” He pulls you into a tight embrace, placing kisses all over your face.

But as the news sinks in, panic sets in. Your future plans — graduating with your degree, establishing a career — all seem to crash around you.

You gently extricate yourself from his hold, taking a deep breath. “How is this possible? I’m on birth control! We’re always so careful.”

The doctor tilts her head, looking through her notes. “No birth control method is 100% foolproof,” she says. “It’s rare but it can happen.”

Carlos’ fingers lace through yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

Tears well up in your eyes, the overwhelming emotions threatening to drown you. “I still have a year of school left. I wanted to be established in my own career … this wasn’t part of the plan.”

Carlos cups your face. “Hey,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. You have me.”

You blink. “Carlos, I want to work. I want a career. I don’t want to be dependent on you.”

He smiles. "You won’t be dependent. You’ll be cared for. Isn’t that what you want?”

You take a step back. “I want to be my own person. I want to make my own choices.”

Carlos’ gaze darkens, the dominant edge returning. “You will be. But you’ll also be mine. That’s what is important now.”

***

You’ve quickly come to love the sensation of your growing belly, cherishing each gentle flutter and kick from the perfect being within, knowing that it’s a bond that only you and Carlos share.

“Good morning, little bean,” you whisper, rubbing the gentle swell of your belly. Every morning, this small act helps you bond with the life growing steadily inside of you.

Carlos enters the room, his hair still tousled from sleep. The morning sunlight casts a warm glow on his chiseled features. “Frijolito is lucky to have a such a beautiful mama,” he murmurs, sidling up to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. His hand finds its place on your belly, fingers splayed and feeling for any hint of movement.

“I am huge,” you complain with a mock pout.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss then pulling back to tilt your chin up. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“You have to say that,” you tease. “I’m carrying your baby.”

“Partly,” he admits, sliding his hand up to cup your face, “but mostly because it’s true. You would put Helen of Troy to shame.”

Weeks pass and your body continues to transform.

There’s a softness, a roundness, that wasn’t there before, and it’s something that Carlos revels in. His hand is constantly on your belly, possessive and protective. Every time another man’s gaze lingers a little too long on you, Carlos’ lips curve into a smirk, silently declaring his ownership.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You ask one evening as the two of you settle into bed.

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Enjoying what?”

“Having every man that looks at me know that I’m yours,” you poke him playfully on the chest.

“Maybe,” his hand slides down your body. “Is that a problem?”

You sigh, nestling closer to him. “No,” you admit. “It’s kind of nice, actually.”

Carlos grins, pressing a kiss to your belly. “That’s my girl.”

The months fly by and soon the reality of your impending motherhood sets in. There are nursery preparations, birthing classes, and endless discussions about baby names. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, excitement never wavering.

“Can you believe we’re going to be parents?” You marvel one day, looking around the nursery.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Carlos says. “You and our frijolito are my everything.”

Happy tears well up in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest.

Carlos tightens his grip, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yo también te amo.”

The next race day arrives and as always, Carlos calm and collected. But recently there has been a different kind of energy to him, an intensity that was never there before.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you clutch his hand.

Carlos smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips and then another on your belly. “I promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “I have too much to come home to ever do otherwise.”

***

“It’s time,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets as another contraction hits.

Carlos lets you grip his hand impossibly tight. “Breathe, mi corazón,” he urges, wiping the sweat off your forehead.

Hours pass in a blur of pain and anticipation. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, his touch both comforting and grounding.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a small cry pierces the air. Tears stream down your face as you catch your first glimpse of your son, his tiny face scrunched up in protest.

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Carlos says thickly, tears gathering as he kisses you gently.

You smile weakly, the exhaustion of a long labour weighing you down. “Our little bean,” you whisper, cradling your son close.

Carlos wipes away an escaped tear. “Our frijolito,” his gaze never leaves your son’s face.

As you start feeding your son for the first time, Carlos’ face softens and his eyes fill with awe. “I can’t believe we made something so amazing,” he traces a finger over your son’s tiny hand.

You smile, heart swelling with love. “He’s perfect,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

Carlos leans down to press a soft kiss to your son’s forehead and then another to yours. “You did incredible. Thank you for giving me everything I could ever ask for.”

You smile. “We did this together.”

Carlos nods, his gaze locked onto your son’s face. “I promise you that I will always take care of you both. You will never have to worry about a thing.”

“I know," you whisper as you let contentment and tiredness drift you off to sleep.

As the days pass, Carlos becomes even more possessive and protective, his love for you and your son deepening with each passing moment. He is constantly by your side, reluctant to leave either of you for even a second.

One evening, as the two of you sit on the balcony, watching the sunset while your son dozes away, Carlos turns to you. “I want to give you more.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “More what?”

Carlos smirks and pulls you close. “More children,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “I want to fill you with my babies.”

You laugh, “One is enough for now.”

Carlos chuckles but his face is serious. “We’ll see.”

Carlos knows that he will ensure it happens just like he did before.

He’ll keep you bound to him forever.

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luvring · 1 month

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeyFC7mc/ this but with keiji 🫣

(link :3) Stop. i literally have a multi-chara plan in a doc for this rn. STOPP MY KEIJI :((

a little suggestive, gn!reader

keiji didn't have a bad day, and when he's expected to join four different meetings in the next couple of weeks, alongside editing longer chapters than usual in time for this week's publication, not having a bad day is all he can really ask for.

though, maybe there's one thing, one privilege he'll always ask for at the end of the day to make it a little better.

"keiji!"

your voice rings clear as you jog to meet him at the entrance, slippers loud against the wooden floor. he hangs up his jacket just in time for you to grab his hands with a grin— "c'mere, i need you for a minute."

his lips form a half-smile, even as he furrows his brows while you pull him into the living room. "no 'hello'? no 'how was your day?'"

you turn to look over your shoulder. "hi, baby, how was your day?"

"it was okay, could've been better. thanks for asking. how was yours?"

"mm, could've been better, too. but i'm gonna make your day right now, sit down."

and he does, of course; he lets his bag fall off his shoulder and land on the rug, untucks his shirt and pushes up his glasses that have fallen down the slope of his nose. all the while, you take a seat beside him, close enough that your thighs touch, and balance your phone on the coffee table against the books that keiji thrifted a week ago.

he makes sure he isn't staring at you when you finally turn the camera on.

"wanna record a video with me?"

"people usually ask that before setting up the camera," he points out, "but, yeah, okay. do i have to do anything?"

"no, well, yes, but it isn't hard or anything. i'll explain when i hit record."

and before he can ask if this is another prank trend, you've started recording with a smile on your face.

"hi, guys! so, i saw this trend going around, and i wanted to try it out."

keiji narrows his eyes.

"basically, i have my husband here, say hi, keiji."

"hello- wait—"

"and he's going to list off his favourite colognes, and i'm gonna rank them!" you turn to face him, feigning innocence you know you don't hold. "go ahead, babe."

it's obvious what's going on, what this video is really supposed to be. he knows, and yet he can't stop from looping that word in his head again—

husband.

husband?

his eyes flicker down to your ring finger, then back up to your eyes.

keiji thinks he's stopped breathing.

he has stopped, actually—he's doing it manually, telling his brain to let out the carbon dioxide in his lungs for oxygen.

in,

husband-

out,

husband-

in-

would you like him as your husband?

out-

it's a push and pull, and when he thinks he can manage to say something, a "seriously?" or "well, the one i bought recently has a vanilla note that i've been enjoying," you make eye contact with him through the screen. again—

"c'mon, husband."

his head drops to your shoulder, and he pouts at the immediate laughter that follows.

"what's wrong, keiji?"

arms wrap around you, a hand finding its way to rest on your hip. "stop."

"stop what?"

"i hate you."

"you hate me? guys, my husband hates me, can you believe that?"

"oh my god."

keiji burrows his face into the crook of your neck, and you yelp as he nips at your skin— "keiji!"

your voice makes him pull you closer, hide a little longer, because despite everything, he knows he has a stupid, lovesick grin on his face, and that's something he wants only you to see.

so it's only after you reach to stop the video (with no help from your boyfriend that continues to cling onto you) that keiji finally looks at you, his cheeks flushed pink as he smiles.

then his fingers climb up to your waist, his skin warm against yours under your shirt, and it's your turn to be shocked this time,

"what are you—"

heat travels up your neck as his eyes look down at your lips, and he asks, "can i try to make your day better too?"

#haikyuu x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu fluff #luvring.txt #myleg...MY LEGGGG MY #love keiji... in my head hes soo easy to write for... and then i get here and #i dont question myself on anyone as much as i do w my keiji posts. Alas. AKAASHI!! uyeagahahh #q

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d10nyx · 1 month

Text

teachers pet

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+content, dub-con, pussy spanking, spanking, degradation, milddd brat taming, teacher x student relationships (age gap, but reader is in college), p in v, pull-out method, cum eating

a/n: i have been really struggling to write recently, so i hope you guys still like this :3 i um... hate it sorry it's not that good... writer's block is so shitty rn. feedback is appreciated !!

word count: 1.3k words

Leon finds you infuriating at the best of times. Sitting at the front of the lecture hall, giggling as you look at your phone. You never pay attention to his lectures - he doesn't understand why you even bother to show up.

You're not even subtle about ignoring him. The least you could do is try and hide in the back like the rest of his students who don't give a fuck.

To make matters worse, your grades are actually decent. Nothing to write home about, but you always turn his assignments in on time, and you've never failed to get a passing mark. If you failed, at least you'd flunk out of his class, and he wouldn't have to put up with your shit anymore.

It's like you want to get a rise out of him.

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall.

“Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

You let out an exaggerated groan at his words, shoving your laptop into your backpack before begrudgingly making your way over to him. Your bag is slung over one shoulder, hanging precariously off to the side.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“That's right.” He says with a slight nod of his head, gesturing for you to take the seat across from him. He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he waits for you to sit.

“I'm going to be honest. You've gained my attention, however it's been for all the wrong reasons. You're smart enough. I'm sure if you applied yourself to this course, you'd get top marks. Is there something I can do to help? Is it a motivation issue? Something at home?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, sir. I thought when I chose this elective, it'd be more interesting. Your lectures are, like… seriously boring.” You say with a smirk that makes it clear you're just trying to frustrate him further.

“I'm seriously getting sick of your attitude.” He bites out, leaning forward against his desk. His eyes are narrowed and locked onto your own. “You can drop an elective. It will have no effect on your main course of study. Why are you still here?”

“It's fun to annoy you, sir.” Is your response, a shit-eating grin spreading across your face.

That's it. Leon is a patient man. He'd tried his best to help you. To figure out what the issue was so he could fix it. But you? Everything about you made him want to rip his hair out.

“Stand up.” He hisses, the feet of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he pushes it back suddenly before standing, stalking his way to your side of the desk. You don't stand, crossing your arms as you lean back in the chair.

“I said, stand up!” He repeats, gripping you by the arm and tugging you to your feet. He presses down harshly on your shoulders, forcing you to bend over his desk. “You want to act like an unruly child? Fine. I'll treat you like one.”

“You can not be serious.” You grit out, moving to straighten back up before your chest is forced against the surface of the desk once more with a strong hand pushing down on your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. I always knew you were a fucking freak.”

“This could all have been avoided if you weren't such a brat.” He hisses, raising your skirt to expose the curve of your ass. You hear him snort, bunching up the fabric of your panties and yanking them upwards harshly, making the fabric bunch up between your lips in a wedgie. It draws a whine from your lips, your brows furrowing as you drop your cheek against his desk.

“Fucking slut. Is that why you're acting up in my class, hmm? You want attention? Prancing around in those tiny skirts, skimpy panties like these underneath ‘em?” He lets go of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before smacking his flattened fingers repeatedly against your pussy until it runs hot, dripping all over his skin.

“Fuck… fuck off.” You say through gritted teeth, your mouth twitching downwards as he continues to spank your pussy. You bite down on your tongue, trying to prevent any noises from spilling past your lips.

He pinches your clit harshly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little yank. He grins at the sound of your whimper and the way you jerk away from him, letting out a low chuckle. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and the shuffling of fabric, which is enough to send a shiver running down your spine. You swallow the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling your confidence drain from you. When you speak, your voice is almost a whisper. “Mr. Kennedy…”

“Oh? You finally learning to keep that mouth shut?” He grunts, running his tip teasingly up and down between your folds, letting his cock catch on your hole just to see you jump. “Trying to pretend you're not a filthy slut, but your cunt is crying for me...”

He presses forward with a low groan, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. His cock throbs as your walls tighten around him, his fingers digging painfully into the fat of your hips as he starts to fuck into you, his pelvis pummelling against your ass with every shift of his hips.

“Greedy.” He scolds, smacking your ass harshly, and once more just to hear the way you whimper when his hand connects with your flesh. “She's sucking me right in. Know this is what you've been wanting… shoulda asked, sweetheart. Pretty sluts like you always get what they want.”

“Perfect pussy… squeezing me so tight.” He groans, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pulling you back onto his cock and angling his hips so he's bumping against your sweet spot every time he bottoms out. He fucks you with deep, hard strokes, letting you feel the drag of every inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“Ah, that's right. Just need to fuck the brattiness out of you, hmm? Goooood fucking girl. Gonna… gonna make me cum.” He says through gritted teeth, slipping a hand down to circle a thumb around your clit. You babble helplessly as he touches you, nothing but ‘please’s and ‘sir's spilling past your lips. He almost cums inside of you when he feels your clenching around him as your orgasm hits, but he's not too pussydrunk to release how stupid it'd be to get his student knocked up, so he pulls out quickly and coats your ass in his cum.

“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” He asks, dropping to his knees behind you, his tongue darting out to lick his cum off of you. The sensation has you shivering, but you nod weakly at his question. He pulls your panties up, straightening out your skirt before patting your butt and going to sit at his desk once more, as if nothing's happened. “Good. That's good.”

“Come see me after class tomorrow, babe. Gotta make sure the lesson really sinks in.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

Text

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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courtingchaos · 10 months

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Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #My Fic #My Work #Freak Like Me

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tonyspank · 10 months

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I WANNA BE YOURS

Summary: Months after admiring the girl from afar, you finally begin your relationship together.

Warnings: smut and idk…

Words: 9.3k

A/N: Longest imagine ive ever wrote. So please bare with me i did not edit or revise this

Vada Cavell x Footballer!GP! Reader

You walk through the crowded hallways, a black bookbag hanging off your shoulder. You look around and see the people you know, and those you don't. You make your way to your classroom, immediately recognized by your best friend. "There she is!" He shouts from his seat, raising his hands in the air.

"Ethan... it's like eight in the morning. Why are you shouting?" He laughs and pats the seat next to him. You take your seat and start to unpack your bag. "Coach cancelled practice for today. Something about giving us time to mentally prepare for the game."

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "That's so unlike him." Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a day off."

"Wanna hang out after school?" You ask, placing your notebook on your desk. The brown-haired boy leans into his chair, a smug smile on his face. "No, can do."

A smile makes its way on your face. "What's that look for?"

He shrugs, "Oh, nothing. It's just that Mia Reed and I are going to this Taylor Lift concert together."

You snort at the mess up of the Singer's name. "You mean Swift?" He rolls his eyes. "Yes, that's what I said, Taylor Swift." You shake your head, amused. "Just don't make that mistake in front of Mia."

Ethan has had a crush on Mia since middle school. But he's always been too scared to talk to her, so he'd always comment and support her dance videos on Instagram. He would often try to find ways to run into her, but he could never find the courage to talk to her.

"Wait," You furrow your eyebrows, turning to Ethan completely. "How did you even finesse a date with Mia Reed?" Ethan smiles and shrugs. "What do they say again? Drunk words are sober thoughts?"

You shake your head and laugh. "I was drunk out of my mind during Max's spring break party, and then I saw Mia... and I just went for it." You had seen Mia around school but had never actually talked to her.

You were surprised that she even agreed to go out with him. Ethan could be surprisingly daring when he wanted to be. "You're a brave guy," he holds up a finger. "A brave drunk guy!"

"Also you'd never believe who else I seen at Max's party." "Who?" you asked, curious. He grinned, "Fucking baby Adam Sandler, Vada!"

You stared in disbelief. "You're such a liar." He shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. "Bro! I swear to god! She was there! In her oversized clothes and everything."

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. He laughs at your facial expression, "Maybe if you had gone then you could've seen yourself." He says in a sing-song tone.

You shake your head and turn away, still unconvinced. He laughs again, "Well, believe me, or not, I'm telling the truth." He shrugs.

Your teacher then walks into the classroom. You glance back at him, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. He winks at you and turns away, leaving you unsure. As your teacher brings the lesson your mind wanders off.

Vada Cavell, whose last name you only found out due to her Instagram page. Kind of like Ethan, you've been liking Vada for a while but never built up the courage to talk to her or ask her out.

It's been months of admiring her from afar. She was beautiful in person and you found yourself totally mesmerized by her. You liked the way she dressed, unbothered by how anyone else thought of it, you liked the way her smile lit up the room.

You just had to talk to her, but you hesitated. You felt like you could never measure up to her. You wondered if she could ever like you, too.

You only seen Vada talk to her friends from the beginning of the year. It was Nick, Mia, and Quinton. You felt like an outsider, not part of their group.

You were too shy to approach her, and you were afraid of getting rejected. You also felt like you were the total opposite of Vada's type, so you decided to stay on the sidelines and admire her from a distance. You wanted to get to know her but you weren't sure how to start a conversation.

The rest of the day went by fast. Before you knew it you were back home, greeted by your cat and your mom. "Hey, honey. You're home early."

Your mom speaks up from the kitchen, while your cat rubs itself against your leg. Taking off your jacket and bookbag, you smile and reply. "Yeah, coach cancelled practice." You give your cat a few scratches before heading off to the kitchen to join your mom.

"Really? That's surprising." You laugh, peeking into the pot your mom was stirring. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"What are you making?" you ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Spaghetti." She smiles, adding stuff to the pot. You feel a wave of warmth wash over you as the familiar smell of your mom's cooking fills the kitchen.

You watch as she expertly moves around the kitchen, adding ingredients to the pot. "I have to work late tonight, so I figured I'll start dinner early." She stirs the contents and you can smell the delicious aromas wafting from the pot. She gives you a smile, and you are grateful that she is willing to take the time to make dinner for the both of you.

"Ma, you should be resting. I can cook dinner." She waves her hand at you dismissively. "I want to do this. After all, it's my job to take care of you."

She pours some more ingredients into the pot, and the smell of the food intensifies. "What if I got a job? So you don't have to work late shifts anymore?" You suggest, a frown on your face.

She pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, you need to focus on your studies and football. You worked hard for your starting spot, honey." She smiles sadly at you, before stirring the pot and humming a song.

She stops, "Now, go take a shower. It's almost finished." You nod and walk away, feeling a bit defeated. You know she only wants the best for you, but it's still hard to hear. You take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

You take a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the disappointment. You remind yourself that you are doing your best and that will have to be enough.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the shower and head back into the kitchen. After eating dinner with your mom, you begin scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. You soon find yourself laughing at memes and videos, allowing yourself to forget the stresses of the day for a few moments.

Hours pass and you soon realize it's time for bed. You turn off your phone and crawl into bed, just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your phone dings. It was a message from Ethan.

ethan - best fucking concert ever

ethan - im officially a swiftie

ethan - taylor's songs are anthems for my life. everything she does is iconic. she's my queen.

you - i'm guessing it went well with mia?

ethan - well? it went amazing bro

ethan - she wanted to hang out tmr but she has plans w adam sandler

you - oh thats a shame

ethan - omg i jus got the best idea evr

you - which is

ethan - A DOUBLE DATE

you - ethan no.

You place down your phone, and it vibrates from the amount of messages you're receiving. You lay back down, but of course, your phone starts ringing. And it's Ethan, obviously.

You sigh, but you pick up the call anyway. "Listen to me! It's a great idea!" He shouts through the speakers of your phone, You groan and roll your eyes, but you can't help but be amused. You reply, "Okay, I'm listening."

Ethan begins to explain his idea in more detail, "Okay look! If I text Mia, right now saying what if me and you both go to the arcade with them, she'll be like sure! Then that means I get to hang out with Mia and you finally get to meet Vada."

Ethan smiled, knowing he had found the perfect plan. You chew the inside of your cheeks, debating if you should agree to Ethan's plan. You take a deep breath and finally give in, deciding that this could be the start of something good.

He quickly texts Mia, and after a few moments, she replies agreeing. "Looks like we got ourselves a double date." Ethan and Mia started to chat excitedly about the date, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement as well. You hadn't been on a date in a while and it felt like a new adventure. But was this actually a date, or just a way to hang out with friends? You weren't sure.

You woke up to a shout of your name. You quickly scrambled out of bed and rushed to the living room. There was your mom standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and Ethan right beside her.

"Ethan's here." You send a tired smile to your mom, "How was work?" She shrugs, "It was alright. Come here and give Ethan a hug." You side-eye Ethan, who opens his arms wide, a goofy smile on his face.

"C'mon Y/N/N! Hug me!" You reluctantly walk over and give Ethan a hug. He squeezes you tightly and laughs. Your mom smiles, watching the two of you before turning to head upstairs. Ethan lets you go and gives you a pat on the back.

You take a few steps back and he grins at you. You smile back, "Why are you here so early?" Ethan shrugs, "Your mom said it was okay. Plus it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon." You nod, and Ethan takes a seat on the couch.

He looks around and then turns back to you, "So, what have you been up to today?" You shrug, "Not much. Sleeping."

"I can tell," he motions his hands above his head, basically telling you your hair was a mess. You laugh and run your hand through your hair, trying to tame it. You look back at Ethan and smile, "What about you? What have you been up to?" He grins, "Talking to Mia."

"Oh, really?" You raise your eyebrows. "And what did she have to say?" He shrugs. "She said that they'll be at the arcade at around six."

You nod, sitting down on the couch as well. "Wanna watch The Walking Dead?" He nods and smiles. "Sure, let's watch it!" You grab the remote and search for the show getting comfortable on the couch. The episode starts with a bang, and you both settle in to watch.

Two hours later, you two are still glued to the screen, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. Once the episode ends, you turn to your friend and say, "Shit! What time is it?"

Ethan, eyes wide, checks his watch and gasps. "We have to go, now!" He exclaims. You both jump up but you pause, "Wait! I gotta shower, do my hair-"

"Less talking and more doing!" Ethan pushes you to the stairs, and you begin sprinting up them, almost running into your mom. She steps aside to let you pass, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face as she watches you go.

Quickly you take a shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Not before fixing your hair and spraying on cologne, you head downstairs, ready and excited. Ethan is waiting for you, a satisfied smirk on his face, and together you leave.

When you arrive at the arcade you see Mia and Vada. Mia's smiling and waving excitedly at you both while Vada kicks a nearby rock. You both walk over and Mia gives Ethan a big hug.

Vada stands off to the side, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face. You look around and see the arcade bustling with activity, and you know you're in for a night of fun. "Hey, guys!" Ethan says, smiling. You look at Vada, and your heart beats like crazy.

"Hey, Vada." She smiles. "Ready for a night of fun?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. You can only nod as you follow the couple into the arcade. Almost immediately, Ethan and Mia go off and do their own thing leaving you and Vada alone.

Vada points to a game ahead of you. "Let's see who can get the highest score," she says with a mischievous smile. You nod and the two of you start to play. After a few minutes of intense competition, Vada ends up with the highest score.

She laughs and celebrates her victory, and you can't help but smile widely. "If I knew you were such a sore winner I would've tried harder." Vada gives you a playful shove and giggles. "You'll have to try harder next time!" she says. The two of you soon move on to the next game.

In watching you press the start button, Vada admits, "I'm bad at basketball." You pick up a ball, looking at her smiling. "That's ok, I'm pretty bad at it too," you reply. She furrows her eyebrows, "I thought you played basketball?" You shoot the ball, and it doesn't even hit the rim.

"Actually-" She starts, and you let out a loud laugh. She joins in your laughter. "I play football," you say continuing the shoot the remaining balls in front of you.

"But like aren't you supposed to at least have good accuracy? A blind person could shoot better than you." You chuckle, "I'm more of a receiver, not a quarterback." You shoot the last ball which ends up bouncing out of the cage from hitting the rim.

You catch the ball easily, placing it down. She shakes her head and grins. "I stand by my statement. You're terrible." She presses the button, picking up the basketball in front of her. "Watch and learn."

The first one she shoots goes in, "Lucky shot." You mumble, and she smiles in response. The second one also goes in, and the third and fourth too. "You lied to me. You said you sucked." She laughs, and sets up the next shot. "I never said I was suck, I just said I was bad." She takes the shot and it swishes through the net. "What the fuck?"

She turns to you and grins. "You see? I told you I was bad, not suck." You can only stare in amazement as she lines up the next shot and scores again. She laughs and walks away, leaving you in awe. "You lied!" You yell out as you follow her. She laughs again. "I'll let you in on a secret."

She stops and turns around, her face serious. "In order to score all the shots, you have to aim for the back of the rim. And then once you do that, calculate how much power you're putting into your shot. That way you'll be able to get a better idea of the trajectory the ball will take. And you'll have a better chance of making the shot." You squint your eyes at the girl, tilting your head a bit.

She bites her lip in response. Adorable, she thinks. "How do you know all of that? Or like, how'd you even figure that out?" She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. "I came here before with Quinton." Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? You two are...close?"

"We're friends." Is all she says. She looks away and takes a deep breath. "But yeah, he's a good friend." She smiles and looks back up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Wanna get something to drink?"

You nod and smile, and the two of you head to grab a drink. "Look, I'm gonna show you how to make the best slushie you'll ever fucking taste in your life." You grab a cup, joining Vada in front of the slushie machine.

Vada begins to explain the steps, and you find yourself getting more and more invested in the process. You join in, and together you prepare the perfect slushie. You take a sip and it's everything Vada promised. "Wow."

"Right!" Vada grins with satisfaction. Your eyes look around the arcade and you notice Ethan and Mia shooting water blasters at the target together. "You know, they're kind of cute together." Vada looks at the two, nodding in agreement. "It was bound to happen eventually. She's been crushing on the guy since sixth grade."

You furrow your eyebrows, your head snapping at the shorter girl next to you. "Really? Ethan too!" Vada laughs, a smile on her face. "That's crazy. It's been obvious to everyone but them." She turns back to the two, watching them laugh and shoot water blasters in sync. "They just need to tell each other how they feel."

"I mean...It's not that simple." You say, taking another sip of your slushie. Vada shrugs. "It's worth a try. I mean, what have they got to lose?" You shake your head. "I don't know. It's a risk they might not want to take."

You're beginning to wonder if you're talking about Ethan or yourself. Vada looks at you with a knowing look. "You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do." You take a deep breath, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm glad you agreed to come, I would've been third-wheeling the entire night." You laugh, "I'm glad I came too." You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do. Vada's words basically repeat in your head, "I uh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you for a while." You admit.

She looks surprised but pleased. "Really? I had no idea!" You nod and smile, feeling relieved that you finally said it. "Yeah! I just didn't know how to approach you." She smiles, her dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Dude, it's not like I would've bit you if you tried to make a conversation with me."

You both laugh and the tension between you dissipates. She looks at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what do you want to talk about?" You shrug, using your straw to stir around your drink. "Favorite color?"

"Easy. All of them." She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. "I guess I can't argue with that. Favourite movie?" She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It's hard to pick just one, but I think it's The Staircase. I watched it a thousand times." You hum, "I've never watched it before."

"Wait, what?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "You have to watch it. It's a classic!" You shrug. "I'll watch it. What's it about?" She grins. "It's about this white guy who murders his second wife, and probably his first wife, and gets away with both."

You look at her, surprised. "That sounds intense. Is it a true story?" She laughs. "No, it's a movie. You'll love it. What's yours?"

You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off. "Lemme guess. Tom Brady Documentary: True Stories." You start to laugh. "Yeah, that's it. It's a classic." She laughs. "See, I knew it!"

"But actually, it has to be How To Build a Better Boy." You say, watching her face to see her reaction. She looks shocked, "Wait that one sappy Disney movie?"

"It's not sappy." She laughs, "Yeah, right. I'm sure it's full of life lessons and cheesy dialogues." You smirk, "Maybe, but it's still worth watching."

She shakes her head, "I don't believe you. There's no way it can be that good." You shrug, "Trust me. I promise you won't regret it." Vada takes another sip of her drink, only to realize she's finished it. She looks up at you with a questioning gaze.

You smile and offer her some of your drink. "Trust me how I trusted you to make this drink." Vada hesitates, then takes the drink from you. "Okay. I'll watch it tonight, and then first thing in the morning I'll tell you if it was good or bad."

You nod and watch her take a sip. "You'd need my number for that." She smiles, takes out her phone and hands it to you. You add your number, then hand it back. "I'll be waiting for your call then." You wink and she laughs, taking another sip of the drink.

Ethan and Mia make their way toward you two, smiles on their faces. "You guys ready to go?" You both nod, and you all make your way out of the arcade. You all walk out, the cool night air bringing a sense of peace. You and the girl share a glance, and she smiles. You both head to your respective cars and drive off in different directions.

"How was it with Vada?" You reply, "It was great. She's a really cool girl." Ethan smiles and you ask him how it went with Mia. "We had our first kiss." Ethan's face lit up with excitement. "WHEN?"

He shyly looks away and replies, "Just a few minutes ago. You missed it being too oo la la with Vada." You roll your eyes smiling and give him a high five. Ethan grins and says, "It was amazing." He then pulls out of the parking lot, turning on his blinker and making a left towards your place.

Meanwhile, in Mia's car, she and Vada are talking about you. Mia teases Vada about her crush on you. Vada blushes and laughs, still a little embarrassed. "I mean she's cute and I can tell she really likes you."

Vada looked away, still blushing. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, laughing. Mia just smiled and shook her head. As soon as Vada got home she was questioned by her mom.

Vada quickly changed the subject, not wanting her mom to know what had happened. Vada's mother gave her a knowing look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she just said, "Well, I'm glad you had a good time." Vada smiled and nodded, grateful that her mom hadn't pushed the matter any further.

She fell against the couch, hesitating before turning on How To Build a Better Boy, your favourite movie. The movie started and Vada felt a sense of relief as her mom left the room. She curled up in her blanket and let herself get lost in the movie.

"Perfect boy but his name is Albert! And how'd he get a car...plus why'd he just throw his keys to a random guy?" Vada mumbles to herself, confused at the logic of the movie.

She giggled at the absurdity of it all, hoping the movie would eventually make sense. Despite the silliness, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the characters and their stories. Vada watched with anticipation as the movie unfolded, eager to find out what would happen next.

Until Amelia comes down, standing in front of the TV. Vada groans at her little sister, "Dude. I'm trying to watch something." Amelia turns to her with a small frown, "I wanna watch too." Vada reluctantly scoots over to make room for her, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her growing smile. They cuddle up on the couch, ready for whatever the movie had in store.

The sisters watched the movie, laughing and pointing out silly things until it was time for bed. Vada tucked Amelia in, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before heading off to dreamland herself.

When you woke up in the morning the first thing you did was grab your phone, checking for any recent messages. You felt a wave of disappointment as you saw that no one had messaged you. You decided to go downstairs to make breakfast.

Your mom had already left for work, so it was just you and your cat, Goose. You started making a simple omelet. It was one of your go-to recipes. But gosh, was it delicious.

As you ate the omelet, you had a moment of peace, just you and your cat, and the warm and comforting taste of the omelet. Goose jumps onto the table, meowing in your face. "Goose down."

Goose meows in protest, but eventually jumps off the table. You take a deep breath, savouring the last bite of the omelet. You look down at Goose and smile, "I'll make sure to give you a treat later." Goose purrs in response, contentedly rubbing against your leg. You get up to clean the kitchen, and your phone goes off in the middle of the dishes.

xxx-xxx-xxxx - ok. i'd admit it's a very good movie

You smile, she had finally texted you.

you - see it's not sappy, but a work of art

vada - i wouldnt take it that far

you - lol, i still have to watch the stairless

Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear. You frown, continuing to wash the dishes. You pause and turn off the water, drying your hands. You pick up your phone again, Vada had texted back.

vada - we could watch it at my place

you - when?

vada - today if u want

you - ok sure

you - send me ur address

You ring the doorbell, shifting your weight from one leg to the other anxiously. "Mom! Do not open the-" The muffled voice stops once the door is swung open. You stand there, frozen, unable to move. The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi! You must be Vada's friend. Mia is it?" You shake your head, hearing a groan come from inside the house. "Mom, this is Y/N."

You smile awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. Mom chuckled and stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. You nervously step inside, smiling at the woman who let you in.

Vada sends you a wave which you return, placing your hands in your pocket. You take a deep breath as you take in your surroundings. The home was warm and inviting, with decorations all around the place.

You follow Vada, who leads you to the living room. She offers you a seat and you sit down, feeling somewhat more at ease. "Sorry about that." You wave it off, "It's fine. She seems sweet."

"If sweet means extremely noisy and out of touch with this generation, then yes. She's very sweet." Vada sighs and sits down on the couch next to you. You can't help but laugh at her comment. She shakes her head and smiles. "She means well, I suppose." She says with a shrug.

You lean further back into the red couch, as Vada picks up the remote turning on The Stairless. Vada and you sit back and watch the movie, exchanging comments and laughs. Time passes quickly, and soon enough you both find yourselves lost in the story. "Off the bat, I knew he killed his first wife." You laugh, slightly turning your head to Vada. "I'm telling you, he did it!" Vada exclaimed.

You both chuckle and then continued watching the movie. As the movie plays, the closer you two get. Now leaning into each other, you can feel the warmth of Vada's body as your hands occasionally brush against each other.

Your conversations become more meaningful, and the laughs become genuine. The movie fades away, and all that's left is the two of you, living in the moment.

As the credits rolled, you both looked at each other in amazement. "That was one hell of a movie," you say. "I told you. That movie is the shit." You sit up a bit, your shoulder brushing against Vadas. "Okay, rate How to Build a Better Boy and then I'll rate this."

Vada takes a moment to think, then finally responds. "It was an 8/10 for me," she says. "I really enjoyed it. How about mine?" You pause to consider the movie before finally saying, "Hmm, I'd give it a 9/10. Definitely worth watching again."

Vada grins. "I knew you'd like it." She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms out. "I'm glad we got to watch it together." You give her a smile and nod in agreement.

You give her a smile and nod in agreement. You both take a few minutes to relax in the comfortable silence. Then, you break it.

"I'm really craving one of your slushies." Vada laughs. "Wanna get one?" You nod and she jumps up, pulling you up from the couch. "Let's get Albert!" Furrowing your eyebrows, you both head out the door. "Albert?"

Vada laughs again. "I was thinking about it and you literally are the fully human version of him, except you don't really look alike." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Albert's a douche, I'm not a douche."

Vada snorts as you unlock your chair door, getting inside together. "Albert is not a douche. He's a sweet young boy who cares about his girlfriend, and he's really good at football."

You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay, maybe he's not a douche." Vada grins as you start the engine. "Exactly. So therefore you're Albert." You chuckle and put the car in gear. "Are you trying to say that I'm perfect and really good at football?"

She laughs."No, I'm saying you're not a douche. Now let's go! The slurpies are calling my name." You roll your eyes and drive away, the two of you laughing as you go.

Since that day you've been texting Vada non-stop. She doesn't seem to mind it either. You feel like you can talk to her about anything. And to add to that, you've also been talking during school. Vada had even come over to meet your cat, when your mom was at work. You two have become really close over the past few weeks. Every day you look forward to talking to her and spending time with her. You can't help but feel like you are falling for her.

"Are you coming to my game tonight?" Vada smiled at you and nodded. You felt your heart flutter. You knew for sure, you were starting to fall in love. "Yeah, of course. Even though I barely understand football." You laugh at her response, leaning into the lockers. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling. "I'll explain the rules to you," you say, your voice soft as it can be. Vada can feel her heart skip a beat, and you smile at her.

She looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. "But if you don't carry four people on your shoulders and score like Albert, then I'm leaving mid-game." She jokes causing you to smile. You tried to think of a witty reply, but all you could do was laugh. "I'll try my best."

She smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. "That's all I ask." She patted your shoulder and walked away. You watched her leave, feeling content with your exchange. Ethan, who you didn't notice was behind you places a hand on your shoulder.

You jump in surprise. "Jesus!" He laughs. "You should relax, man. I didn't mean to scare you." He removed his hand and stepped back. You take a deep breath and let it out, relieved.

"What were you guys talking about?" You shrug, "Nothing important. She's coming to our game tonight." Ethan's eyes widen in shock, "Are you serious?" "Yeah, why?" You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head, "Nothing, just... Mia asked herself and Vada said no."

"Hm..." You hum, unsure of what to take from the situation. "I don't know maybe she changed her mind last second." A goofy smile makes its way onto Ethan's face, "Or maybeeeeee... she likes you."

You look away, blushing. "No way," you say, shaking your head. "She's definitely not interested in me that way." Ethan gives you a knowing look. "You've been talking for weeks. I've seen the way she looks at you," he says. "You should ask her out dude." You hesitate, not sure if you should take his advice.

The bell rings, and you look at Ethan with a smirk. "Saved by the bell." Ethan rolls his eyes and laughs. "Just ask her," he says, and you cover your ears humming as you walk through the hallway.

"Check, check! Elvis, Elvis!" Ethan yells. You look at the cornerback in front of you, and give Ethan a thumbs up. You take a deep breath and get into your stance. You know that if you can get past the cornerback, and potentially win your team some yards. You focus on the cornerback and wait for the snap.

The snap comes and you explode off the line. You easily beat the cornerback and break into the open field. You know you have a chance to make a big play and you sprint as fast as you can. Ethan throws the ball to you, and you catch it successfully.

Only making it to the 45-yard line before you're tackled. The crowd erupts in cheers as you get up from the tackle, smiling. You know you've made a huge play and energized your team. As you jog back to the huddle, you can feel the momentum shifting in your favour.

The team regroups and prepares for the next play. Everyone is pumped up and ready to take it to the end zone. Ethan calls the next play and the team breaks the huddle, ready for action. Ethan snaps the ball, handing it off to the running back who earns just about 8 yards from the play. It's third down, and you need 10 more yards to get to first.

Ethan calls out the next play and the team runs it perfectly. The running back manages to break free and run for 20 yards, giving the team a first down. The team cheers in excitement as they get a fresh set of downs and move closer to the end zone. "Y/N," you perk up at the sound of your name, "Be ready." You nod as Ethan pats your helmet.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for the next play. You watch as Ethan signals the play and the team begins running it. You run up to the line of scrimmage, ready to make your move.

You see a gap in the defence and make your move, sprinting forward. You catch the football with both hands and take off, running for the endzone. You feel the wind in your face as you cross the goal line and score the touchdown.

The crowd erupts in cheers as you spike the ball in celebration. You jog back to the sidelines, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride. You know you just made a game-winning play.

Meanwhile, Vada is in the stands beside Mia yelling, "GOAALLLLLLLLL!" Mia and Vada jump up and down excitedly, hugging each other in joy. The crowd continues to cheer as you take off your helmet and raise your arm in triumph. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that your hard work has paid off.

You wave to your mom who waves back, a huge smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!" Your coach saying patting your back. You take off your helmet, rubbing the sweat off your forehead with your towel. "Just one more touchdown and we've made it to the playoffs, baby."

You take a moment to take in the sound of the cheering crowd and the feel of the cool night air. The team gathers together in a huddle, the defensive team heading onto the field.

As the players take their positions on the field, the energy in the stadium is palpable. The coaches call out the plays and the team readies for the snap. The opposite team's quarterback takes the ball and the game resumes.

Thankfully your defensive side was able to stop the other team, and you're back on the field. Your team huddles up and the coach gives the next play. You take your position and get ready for the snap. As the ball is snapped, you make your move and the play is underway.

You make a break for the end zone, dodging and weaving past the other team's defence. Catching the ball with ease, you can feel the cheers of the crowd getting louder as you get closer. You feel someone hop on your back, but you continue running.

You keep going until you cross the goal line and score the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts as you raise your arms in victory. You look back to see your opponent still on your back, frustrated and disappointed.

The referee quickly signals for a touchdown and you can see the joy on your teammates' faces. You look back at your opponent and offer a friendly handshake to congratulate them on a good game. The team celebrates your victory as the crowd continues to roar.

You run to the sidelines, ecstatic about the win. The coaches congratulate you on your performance and the team gathers for a group hug. You look into the stands and see Vada staring back at you, her mouth open in shock. You take off your helmet, dropping it on the ground before holding up a heart.

Vada smiles and laughs, she mimes a heart back to you, and you smile widely. Ethan brings you into a tight hug, patting your back, "HELL YEAH!" You finally feel the euphoria of a victory. You had worked so hard and it had all paid off.

You look back at the field one last time, taking in the feeling of success before you turn to join your team in their celebration. You have made it, and nothing can take this moment away from you.

Moments pass and the entire team makes its way into the locker room. Everyone is in high spirits, laughing, hugging and even dancing to the sound of the music playing in the background. You can't help but smile, happy about the win.

As the team disperses, the coach takes you aside. He looks you in the eye and says "I'm proud of you. Great job today." You feel a thank him before leaving the locker room, walking outside to the front of the school building.

Ethan, Mia, and Vada are already there waiting. Once Vada sees you she runs to you, basically jumping into your arms. You hug her tightly, feeling a warmth inside. "You did it!" She shouts, her eyes bright with excitement.

"You like actually carried that guy onto your back? I told you you're Albert!" You laugh and hug her again. "Thanks, Vada." You are interrupted by a throat being cleared, and it's your mom.

"Hey, Ma." Your mom smiles at you, holding out her arms and you step into them, contentment washing over you. She pulls away slightly, with a proud smile and says, "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N. You did something remarkable today."

You smile, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you think so," She hugs you again and says, "I always have, sweetheart. Now go hang out with your friends." You smile wider, feeling a warmth in your chest and your eyes start to mist.

You hug her tightly and thank her, before turning to go. You pause for a moment and look back, feeling so thankful for the unconditional love you have been given.

"TIME TO PARTYYYYY!" Ethan shouts from beside Mia, who joins him. You shake your head at the two, turning to Vada who raises her head, joining in as well. You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm and join in, feeling the energy of the night.

The four of you make your way towards Max's house. He's known for throwing the best parties at your school, but you've never gone to any of them. You've never really had a reason to, but now you kind of do.

You knock on the door and Max welcomes you all in. The house is filled with people, and loud music and the air is thick with laughter and energy. You can feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as you all take in the scene.

You look around and take it all in, feeling a bit overwhelmed but excited. You make your way through the crowd, looking for a place to sit down and relax. You finally find a spot and settle in, ready to enjoy the party. "No way you're sitting down at a party," Vada says from beside you. You swallow your drink before sending a small smile at her.

She grins and grabs your hand, leading you to the dining room. "We're gonna play beer pong. I hope you have better accuracy."

"Any challengers?" A dark-haired boy says from the other side of the table, his friend close by. "Yeah." You speak up, wrapping an arm around Vada's shoulders. "Me and her," Vada smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?" you ask, and she nods.

The boy nods, "Okay. But just know beer pong is my calling." You and Vada exchange a knowing look, and you set up the table. The game begins and you soon find yourself in a heated battle with the dark-haired boy.

It's drink after drink, throw after throw, and soon the game is over. The boy is declared the winner with a triumphant grin on his face. Vada and you exchange an impressed look and congratulate him on his victory.

"I can't believe he won that." You mutter, a bit tipsy. Vada shakes her head, "I can. You still suck at aiming balls into stuff." You laugh and throw your hands up in defeat. "You're right, I do. But maybe I'll get better one day." You continue following Vada around the party until she suggests something.

"Wanna get high?" You look around the party and then back at Vada, "Let's do it." She smiles and grabs your hand, leading you away from the party. You quickly found a secluded corner outside, and she produced a joint from her pocket. Taking a lighter from her other pocket, "You always have a lighter and a joint in your pocket?"

She laughed, "No but... I knew I'd be going to this party. I wanted to prepare myself." You hum with a nod, Vada's eyes leave the joint before meeting yours. "Have you done this before?" You shake your head, "No. I haven't.."

She smiles, takes the joint and takes a deep breath. "It's ok, I'll show you how."Vada inhaled, and slowly exhaled. She passed the joint back to you and said, "Just take a tiny puff. Don't hold it in, just let it out." You took the joint and followed her advice. You felt a tingle in your chest as the smoke lingered in the air. You coughed a bit, but it was a good feeling. You exhaled and smiled. "See? Not so bad."

You handed the joint back to Vada, feeling a bit more at ease. You sit down on the grass, and Vada joins you laughing. "Just wait till it hits." You close your eyes and lean your head back, savouring the moment.

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the cool grass beneath you. You can feel the effects of the marijuana start to take hold, and a peaceful calm overtakes you. "I wonder what kind of high you'll be."

"There kinds?" You smile and nod, feeling content. "There's the body high, the mental high, and the spiritual high. Each one has its own unique experience." You take a deep breath and sigh, feeling the effects of the marijuana wash over you.

You close your eyes and relax, feeling the tension in your body slowly dissipate. You smile, feeling a sense of peace and clarity that you hadn't felt in a long time. You open your eyes and take another deep breath, feeling a deep sense of connection to the world around you.

"I wonder who wrote the script for How to Build a Better Boy," Vada's eyes widen. She can't believe that's what you're talking about mid-smoke. You laugh and shrug. "It's just something I thought of. I was just trying to relax." She smiles, understanding. "Well, it seems like it worked. You look much calmer now."

You take a deep breath and smile. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm glad I was able to take my mind off things for a bit." Vada nods in agreement, then takes a deep drag from the joint. You both take a moment to enjoy the silence and the feeling of companionship.

You turn to the shorter girl, smiling. "I wanna kiss you. Badly, I've been wanting to kiss you, but now I just really really really-" You're cut off by a pair of lips onto yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, savouring the moment. When you pull away, you can't help but smile.

You look into her eyes and feel a warmth inside you that you never thought was possible. "I've been wanting to kiss you too." You smile wider, bringing her back into an intense kiss.

Bringing the girl into your lap, gripping her waist tightly. You can feel her heart pounding against your own. You can feel her body relax into your embrace as you kiss her more passionately. You don't know if this is just Vada or the cannabis you've inhaled, but this is definitely one of the best kisses you've had.

She pulls away and smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. You can feel the electricity between you, like something that will never be broken. You know this moment will stay with you forever.

She leans in and whispers in your ear, "I love you." You can feel your heart swell at the words. You hold her close and whisper back, "I love you too." Everything around you fades away and all that is left is the two of you in this moment. You kiss her tenderly as your hearts beat in unison.

"You've gotta be quiet!" Vada whisper yells at you, trying her best to support your weight. You nod and press your lips together, trying your best to muffle the sound of your breathing.

You feel Vada's arms tremble as she carries you through the darkness. You can sense her fear. "Ma is probably..." You start snoring and begin laughing at your own joke.

Hopefully, your mother is sleeping because of the way you're acting right now, she'd definitely tell if you're not sober. Vada stops walking and scolds you.

She tells you to keep quiet and you quickly apologize. You try to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, but you can't help but feel a bit of excitement as you approach your bedroom.

On the second to last step, there's a creaking noise. You both tense up at the sound, waiting there a few moments before resuming your movements.

"Are we gonna make out, V?" Vada blushes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Shh, we're almost to your room." You make it to the room, closing the door behind you. Vada then pushes you onto the bed, plopping down beside you with a heavy sigh.

You begin giggling, turning to the girl beside you. She smiles, leaning in closer. You close your eyes, feeling her warm breath on your face. You both press your lips together, eagerly exploring each other.

Your heart races as you feel her hands on your back. You break away, looking into her eyes. You both share a knowing smile, "Are you sober enough to consent?" You nod, "Yes. Now hurry... sober thoughts and drunk thoughts."

Vada laughs at your mess-up, fuck it. She was high as hell as well. She was just handling it way better than you.

You both kissed again, feeling the warmth as your bodies pressed against each other. You felt the alcohol between you, but you both knew that you were sober enough to make a conscious decision. Your hearts were pounding as you embraced each other, both of you eager for more.

You pull away, climbing onto of Vada. Vada smiles up at you as you look deep into her eyes. You lean in and kiss them passionately, your hands exploring her body. You two stay like this for what feels like an eternity, until finally you pull away, and you begin undressing.

You throw your hoodie away, and try to rip apart your white tank top but fail. Vada notices your frustration and giggles, then helps you take off your tank top, revealing your toned abs. She smiles, before reaching up and kissing you again.

She then fumbles with the buttons of your pants, and pulls them down, before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you, and begins to passionately kiss your neck and chest. You can feel her hands trailing up and down your body as she continues to kiss you.

She moves her hands to your back and pulls you closer. You can feel her breath on your skin as she whispers into your ear. She then moves her lips to yours and you become lost in the moment.

You pull away slightly, "Vada take off your damn clothes." You say fiddling with her shirt. She complies taking off her bra as well. Your mouth moves to her chest, kissing, licking and suckling as your hands wander to her shorts. You slip them off her hips, leaving her in just her panties.

She moans in pleasure as you continue your ministrations.

You move your hands further down, gently stroking her inner thighs. You pause, taking in her beauty before slowly slipping off her panties.

She smiles at you, her desire and anticipation palpable in the air. "My heart is racing so much," she admits, smiling. "Mine too," you reply, leaning in to kiss her.

Her lips are soft and inviting, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating around you. You both lose yourself in the moment, the anticipation of what's to come envelops you both.

You flip her over, laying her on her back. You begin to explore her body with your hands. Her skin is soft and smooth beneath your fingertips. She moans softly, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Y/N..."

You move your hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasps softly as you reach her most sensitive areas. You press your lips against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

She grabs hold of your hair, her moans getting louder as you keep going. You feel her body quiver beneath you as you continue to pleasure her, her breathing becoming rapid and her body shaking with pleasure.

You can feel her nearing her climax and you increase the intensity of your motions, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulses with pleasure as she reaches her orgasm. "Ohmygod."

You kiss her body as she recovers from her orgasm, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you with a satisfied smile, her eyes still filled with pleasure. You return her smile, happy to have been able to bring her pleasure.

You feel yourself hard against your underwear, and you know that you're ready for your own pleasure. You pull her closer to you and whisper in her ear, letting her know that you're ready. She responds with a mischievous grin, her hand moving to pleasure you.

You moan as her hand slides up and down, the pleasure building inside you. She moves her lips to yours, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hand continues to work its magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you grab her hand to slow her down. She smiles in understanding and pulls away, the pleasure ebbing away. You look into each other's eyes, and you both know that this is only the beginning. "I'm gonna grab a condom." You mumble, rushing off the bed and into your drawer.

She nods in agreement, and you can sense the anticipation in the air. You come back to the bed, and she eagerly takes the condom from you. Opening the gold wrapper, you take out the condom and unroll it onto yourself, before moving to lie on top of her.

She wraps her arms around you as you take a deep breath as you slowly slide inside her, and you both gasp in pleasure.

You both moan in pleasure as you start to move, and she wraps her legs around you. You start to build up momentum, faster and faster, as you move together. The friction of the condom creates a warm, smooth sensation that sends pleasure through both of you with each thrust.

With each movement, you feel your connection with her deepen and you can feel the sensations in both your bodies become more intense.

"Vada," you sigh out, resting your head in the nape of her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. You kiss her softly and she wraps her arms around you tightly.

You can feel the warmth radiating from her body and you feel the love you have for her in that moment. You want to stay like this forever and the thought of having to part from her is too much to bear. You tightly embrace her and whisper that you love her. You feel her body trembling as she returns the embrace.

"I'm about to cum." She moans into your ear as she cums. You feel her body quivering and it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. You hold her tight as you release as well. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily. You lay there in each other's arms for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You kiss each other tenderly and drift off to sleep.

"Was I your first time?" She replies with a soft whisper, "No, Mia was." Your head snaps to her and she laughs, sighing out shortly after.

You take a moment to process what she said. "Really?" She nods, "It happened... multiple times... the fifth week of school." You take a deep breath and look away for a moment, trying to contain your confusion.

"Was I yours?" You shake your head smiling, "No, Ethan was." She lets out a loud laugh at your joke, laying her head on your chest. You take a deep breath and hold her close.

You feel a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for the moment of comfort. You are filled with a sense of peace, knowing that you have someone to talk to and share your feelings with.

"I need to shower." You say. Vada nods rolling over. "You can join me, but you gotta be quiet." You smile, "Oh, you're telling me to be quiet now?"

You chuckle and lead her into the bathroom. You both take your time showering, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's company. After, you dry off and return to your bedroom, both content and peaceful.

You wake up to a shout of your name. Looking to your left you notice Vada is still sound asleep. "Fuck," you rush up out of bed putting on your clothes before nearly darting downstairs to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.

Your mother is standing over the stove. Three plates of eggs and bacon already waiting for you on the table. She gives you a stern look before turning back to the stove. "There are three..." You mutter to her confused.

She points to the plates. "One for you, one for your girlfriend, and one for me. Now wake her up and come and eat."

You sheepishly smile turning on your heels to go wake up Vada.

#reader insert #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell #vada x you #vada x y/n #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader

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is-nini · 2 months

Text

Men who play with your life, knowing they have power, money, and the ability to.

Character: Wriothesley, Geto, Ayato, Nanami, Diluc, Zhongli, all your possessive business big husband<3

Warning: Overstimulation, size kink, yandere-ish behavior, possessive behavior, dumbofication

Started when he notice you being a bit messy then usual.. "Princess, clean up after your play things" you would do it but almost with a pouty lips drag your leg and clean it up. Those are just simple things, because it progresses.

"Did you play with yourself?" He asked almost breathlessly. You shrug and keep watching the television "When I ask you something, you answer it" his eye narrow down at your figure.

You felt the shiver but you try to ignore it, afterall your new friends told you that it's okay to be a little harsh once in a while-it "gave your partner a rush" they say.

He won't let you go with that bratty act of yours. Who taught you to act like that? He always raise you so nicely, so submissive.

He started to track your every single move. After he found out your little friend group that has just been feeding wrong things to you small pretty head. He decided that maybe you are not ready for the big world. Stupid, small girl like you should be protected all times and not be seen by the mean people that are just trying to take you away from him.

Oh well, it seems like it's time to cut you off for a while and remind your place. Who you belong to.

Couple of days after he "Take care" of your friends, he came home to you sitting on the small stair step in front of the front door, your lips are pouty, eyes puffy and face flushes red- oh how he misses that look of yours. It doesn't take a genius to know that you have been crying. Little sniffle pour out as you grasp your phone tight, cute chain dangling softly as your hand tremble.

"What's 'wrong baby?" he feign worry even though he knew exactly what's wrong. "M-my fr-friend-" he hugs you immediately, shushing you "Shh It's okay baby, calm down and we'll talk when you're ready okay?" he picked you up and bring you to the dining table. He sat you down and looked at the food that you have made.

Although he can ask for maid or chef to cook for him but he likes it more if you cook it. You always look so breedable and cute in those little apron while you focus on making a food for him.

He took a soup that you made and pour it to two bowl, feeding you some food himself. He took out your favorite drink from his work bag and put it in front of you. Your eyes immediately lights up and chug the whole drink, quenching your thirst. "Slow down princess" he whisper while playing with your hair lovingly.

After your hiccup dies down and the shine on your eye shimmer in a happier light, he brings it up again, pretending as if he knows nothing and are curious. "I-I want talk" you said. He cooed internally letting you spill what horrible things your "Friends" did to you. "A-and- they are my few friends- now I am alone" you whimper and looked down.

He take the chance to cups your face and smile at you "Baby, you will never be alone. I am here always for you" he took the time to put his hand and softly stroke your hair "B-but when you are working I am alone.." you whine softly. He hums and put his chin on top of your head. "True, it's not fair that I am busy but you're not right princess?" you nod and letting out a small "yes" as you hug him tightly.

The night ended with you hugging him tight like a koala and fell asleep. He pick you up and puts you on the bed. He washes and clean after himself and on he bathroom he got an idea.

The next day you find yourself as usual, engulf in your lovers arm. You slowly wakes up and cleans yourself as you make your way to the kitchen to cook your lover's meal.

Minutes later, the sound footsteps approaches you and a hand wrapped around your waist.

"Good morning my little princess" you can feel his soft smile as he looks over your shoulder. "How cute, my little wife is making a cute bento for me?" You giggle and enthusiasticly say "yes!".

The cute moments doesn't last though, as he place kisses all over your neck, his hand going down, slipping into your short pyjama and rubbing your pussy oh so softly.

You let out small moan and tighten your thighs, trapping his hand. He pulls away and spin your body as you now faces him. The stove are turned off but oh he is so turned on.

Next thing you know, your body was bend over the counter. His trust are hard as you beg for him to slow down but all he's hearing is faster. "A-Ahn! O- Please! Ha- S-slower!slower! Ngah!" he grunt and went faster as he hold your waist tightly. Mouth drooling, eyes seeing starts, tongue out and your breast jiggle up and down as your nipple once in a while graze the cold counter. "Fuck- cute fucking wife. will fill that stomach full huh?" he whisper as he makes sure that his cock stayed for a while inside you before hitting that spot again with hard and sharp thrust.

Your body tremble as it has been your fourth release. You squeal as your pussy clenching around him. His second release fills up your stomach, making you feel so so full. He puts his hand to your stomach, dick bulging out of your stomach. As he presses, he can feel his cock moving in and out and it brings him to his third cum.

Drips of cum are dripping to the pool of your feet. White rim form around his cock which is still on your pussy. He hugged your stomach so tightly, feeling his cum inside your stomach. Your body trembling with your shakey leg.

He kisses your cheek and slowly position you comfortably before picking you up koala style all the while his cock is deep inside.

Big arms protecting you from outsiders, it is dangerous afterall. He slowly lays you down and pulls out his cock, letting the cum flow out. "Ngh - where are you going..." you whine out, feeling the emptiness. He smiles and kisses your lips while softly patting your head.

"I'm going to take care of you baby. No worries" he kisses you once again before you felt a soft sense of tissue graze your skin softly. You hum in content, going back to relaxing.

He smiles at you, looking at your sleeping state before cleaning himself up and preparing the little present for you.

You woke up, feeling cold. You sat up slowly looking for your husband. "H-hubby?" You called out, slowly walking down the living room. "Princess come here" his deep voice makes you walk to him like a magnet "I have a surprise for you".

You immediately perk up and looks up at him. "Y-yes?" You hum, he pulls out a small box with some little hole and gave it to you. "What... Is this?" He sat down while pulling your waist. "open it dear, but becareful, it's sleeping" you ponder on his word while slowly opening the box, revealing a cute kitten sleeping away. Your face break out to a huge smile as you slowly took the kitten, careful as to not startle it.

"You have a friend how princess, so when I go to work, you can be with oscar for a while all the while waiting for me okay?" He softly said. You nodded happily as you kisses the kitten softly.

You may think that you are lucky to have a nice husband - little did you know all the misfortune that befall you is the cause of him.

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undercoverpena · 7 months

Text

i. aren’t repulsed by me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter one of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. smut. p in v. dirty talk.

an: the biggest hug to @ghostaholics because without her allowing me to waffle saturday night, all of this wouldn't be here. a huge thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this and telling me i should post it, and to my eyes all over my skies @guyfieriii

wordcount: 4k

“You’re late.”

Frankie smirks, watching you lean in the doorway, his hand lifting the sweating bag of food and the clanging paper bag containing the essentials, aka wine and beer.

He watches as the gesture makes your eyes narrow, forgiveness etching across earlier annoyance as you put out your hand, offering to take something, anything.

“The store close to mine was out of your wine.”

Shutting the door, he finds you glancing over your shoulder, the television already set up. The usual array of candles and blankets across your living room—the ones which aren’t romantic, just mood setting (a thing you’ve highlighted to him many times). Not to him—he knows. But to others. Those who don’t understand that a friendship that’s spanned over ten years can remain as innocent as it seems—that movie nights were just movie nights. Even if the group chat joked otherwise.

“I’m serious,” he adds.

“So it’s not because you left yours at the time you were supposed to be here?”

Snorting, he follows you into the kitchen—the light flickers on, making him blink. Once again thwarted by the phone you made him upgrade to—the one which spills his secrets, like location and when he’s read your message.

Grabbing a plate, you hold it out to him. “That’s what I thought.”

“Y’gonna forgive me, or am I gonna have to surrender my movie privilege next time?”

You scrunch your nose—an act that shouldn’t make him smile, but does. His eyes scan up and down your face, a calmness spreading over him as soon as he is in the walls of your place—a feeling he always has when he’s with you.

His friend—his best friend.

A person who has been there through it all. Not batting an eyelid when he knocks on past midnight, red-eyes, dripping with rain because he lost his license, and he can’t sleep, and he’s so impossibly fucking tired. Not fazed when he slumps next to you, detailing the heartache of finding out he wasn’t going to be a father after all, handing him a bottle of beer—his favourite, the only kind you keep, all because of him.

You don’t make him pay. You never do.

Forever there, a rock—a comfort and a safety. It’s why he doesn’t fuck around with movie nights—doesn’t fuck around with anything to do with you. A silent promise, a rule: Frankie will always be there.

It didn’t matter if the person you dated hated him, didn’t matter if you pulled away because life became hard and you wanted to decline invites to the bar with the others. Frankie was there, the two of you giving and taking, always balanced, forever shared.

Movie nights reflected this. Last time was his choice, and tonight, it’s yours. A romantic comedy, with a twist—you’d said. He didn’t ask questions, just nestled under the blanket you dubbed his—green, worn, “like you, Morales”, you’d said when you’d pulled it out of the cupboard for him.

Taking his plate, you pop them on the coffee table. “You think you’d ever do it?”

“What? Friends with benefits?” He watches as you nod, getting comfortable again in your place. “Be better than whatever I’m doing now.”

“Which is?”

Smirking, he rolls his head on the back of your sofa. Hat gone, thrown on your armchair, fingers carding through his curls as he glances at you. “Nothin’. I’m not… I’m not dating—don’t really have the time. My schedule is just…”

“Fucked?”

Laughing, he nods.

“Can’t say I’m much better…”

Nudging you, you lift your chin, meeting his eye line again—something there, flickering. An array of words you’d usually share, but stick, cling somewhere in your throat as you offer him a comforting smile.

One he knows, well.

It’s your ‘doesn’t matter’ smile. The one you give when you’re single again, not willing to explain it—not until you’re two glasses into the bottle he’s brought to cheer you up—mumbling about not wanting him to say anything. As if saying something would be at the top of his agenda with some of them.

“It’s just that… I don’t wanna do that dating bit. You know, doing the how are you? What do you do, shit? Can’t exactly go out and just say I want to be bent in half and stuffed full—“

“Fuck me.”

“—but really, that’s all I want. Fun, with someone I don’t dislike, but won’t ask me to do romantic things that make me fall for them, only to be let down by them like I always am.”

Letting his head rest on your sofa, he sighs. “Yeah, same. Just want the stress relief.”

You agree by letting the softest yeah fall from your lips before you glance back at the movie. But he knows you’re not watching it. Eyes glazed over, brain ticking, turning. His finger poking you, the same way he always did—something he began doing back when he told you he’d enlisted, and you didn’t say anything except ‘you were happy for him’.

“Just thinking, I could… I could probably help you solve it, the stress relief. You know? That is—if you didn’t find me so repulsive.”

It’s instant, the way he feels his forehead scrunch and his eyes narrow. The sound of the movie fading to nothing—mind filling instead with your words, them rolling, and rolling, and rolling…

Frankie stares. Watching, finding you, if anything, looking like you weren’t even expecting a reply, never mind needing one.

“I don’t—I don’t find you repulsive.”

You smile, with an added snort, before layering on a shrug for added measure. The embodiment of unbothered, the painted picture of I don’t care.

He’d believe it too if you didn’t stand so quickly—mumbling about getting another drink. Asking if he wanted one. So quick to leave, to remove yourself from the situation, from being close to him.

It isn’t until he watches you stand that it hits him. The realisation going straight through him as he sees your shoulders slide down, the knowledge tearing, ripping—it feels worse than a bullet because:

You don’t believe him.

A part of you having convinced yourself before you’d even thought the words, never mind said them, that he could possibly think you weren’t attractive to him.

It forces him up from his seat, blanket discarded, pursuing you—the television covering the sound of his feet on your wooden flooring, the tap filling your glass doing the rest until he’s behind you. The glow of the street light through your kitchen window halos around you as you keep your back to him. Hand twitching at his side, a part of him unsure if he should keep standing here or if he should turn you.

Think, Frankie. Think.

Because for all the usually loud reasons he normally has told himself as to why he shouldn’t pursue you, it’s now surprisingly quiet in his head.

Even more so when you turn, the glass in your hand, eyes taking him in.

The rest is just instinct—not even thinking. His hands come either side of you, pressing into the counter, swallowing, watching as you place your glass down.

“I don’t find you repulsive,” he says, low, almost gruff. It comes from deep within—laced in other confessions, wrapped in words he hopes you can’t hear. “Not in the slightest.”

His eyes burning, searing the words in. Watching as you don’t break from him, lips ever so slightly parting, before he sees your gaze drop to his mouth, before flicking back up.

If someone asks, he’ll never be able to confirm who moved first. The two of you finding yourself in the middle, mouth slanted over yours, feeling your tongue behind his teeth as you pull him close, his arms caging you in. He can taste the berries, the sweetness that he hopes is just you and how it’s mixed with the sauce from the food—heat licking up his spine, need spreading through his stomach as he presses himself flush against you, leaving no room between him, you and the kitchen counter.

It’s intoxicating, dizzying, the feeling of dipping his toe into the pool he has always thought was off limits. Feeling you moan. Frankie basks in the sound, paints himself in it—hoping he can hear you sing his name, hoping he’ll hear it—capture it, keep how pretty, it is all to himself.

You moan when he grinds his hips into you. It vibrates down his throat, marking him, scratching its claws into him as he grips the back of your head—deepening the kiss. Drowning in it—in you. You’ve always made him breathless, so now he just hopes you pull him under, your hands clutching him closer, as though he’s your anchor—when in truth, he’s pretty sure that’s you for him.

“If we do this,” he says, dragging his lips down your neck, feeling one of your hands slide into his hair, “We need rules.”

Teeth grazing against your skin, the scent of your lingering perfume infecting his nose. A scent that usually clings to him, buries itself in his clothes—one he finds comfort in. Like he always finds comfort in you.

“Like, we can’t tell anyone.”

Snorting, you meet his lips—kissing him, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he groans. Signing it, his proclamation.

“Deal,” you whisper. “I’m not staying over at your place. You can stay here, but I’m not… I won’t—“

He places his palm on your cheek, tilting your head, chaste, smaller kisses. A silent agreement.

Licking his lips, his heart thunders at the next. The one which is like acid in his stomach—one you could think is selfish, demanding. “You can date, but if we’re fucking, we’re fucking. I don’t share. So, if you want to do that with others, you tell me, and we stop this.”

“Okay.”

His other hand slid between the two of you, thankful—more than he can articulate and ever put into words—that you’re wearing sweats. His.

An old pair—one you’d borrowed when you’d spilt food on yourself and never returned.

Fuck, they always looked better on you.

Smirking, you turn your face, kissing his wrist. “But, you can’t buy me wine anymore. No flowers. No romance.”

Chewing his cheek, he mirrors your smirk. “You can’t cook me food.”

Sighing, you nod.

“So.”

Grinning, you loop a finger into his belt hook, pulling him close. His fingers toying with the knot on your sweats.

“So, you gonna put your mouth where your hand is?”

Raising his brows, you laugh—light, airy, fucking beautifully.

“Is that what you want, querida? Huh.” He says, voice dropping, hand cupping you through his sweats. “Cause I’m dying to see if you taste as good as I’ve imagined.”

“You’ve not imagined this.”

Lowering his lips to yours, he ghosts them over—your breath warm, teasing against his skin, the hairs above his lip. “Oh, I have.”

His fingers move, toying, teasing. Hearing you murmur a groan in the back of your throat as he imagines how wet you are. Whether there’s a patch on your underwear, whether you’ll coat his fingers when he finally touches you skin on skin.

“You need a ha—”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he whispers, the hand on the back of your head sliding around your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your head up, “I’m good with my hands.”

He’s not sure if the moan you emit is at his words or the fact he undoes the little knot at your waist with one hand. But fuck does he swallow it—he feasts on it. It fills him like no food ever could as he manoeuvres his hand, fingertips brushing cotton before he slides his fingers against your warm skin.

“Last chance,” he offers, light touches, all feathery. Not quite touching, but close enough.

Swallowing, you shift your weight, ever so delicately handing him the words he desperately needs: I want you, Morales.

Morales, he thinks—fingers dipping into your wetness, slick covering his fingers, and it’s his turn to groan. More so when he drags his finger over your swollen clit, admiring how you arch into him, mouth desperate to find him, breath ghosting over him as he grins, all cocky, likely lit up by the moon and the street light.

“You’re the prettiest fucking thing,” he groans.

Pressing two of his fingers inside your heat, the hand on your jaw—finger under your chin—keeping your eyes up, lifted, perfectly on him so he can watch how your flashes flutter. Watch in the highest of definitions what he’s doing to you.

“Always have been,” he continues.

His focus is only on you, and all you’ll give him as he pumps his fingers in and out—the sound of how much you want this, want him, coating the air. So much so that he can practically taste it.

A part of him knows how close you are before you whisper it.

Imagining the way heat is pooling in your stomach, that your fingers must be aching from how you’re gripping the kitchen counter for leverage as he curls his fingers inside of you. And fuck, does he hate jeans—hates how tight they feel on his hard cock, how all he wants is to relieve some pressure, to grip the base in his hand and squeeze so he can marvel at how fucking gorgeous you are like this.

“Eyes on me,” he says, gruffer, laced in gravel—all low, like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside of him. It has, truthfully.

The moment he began seeing your lashes fluttering, he knew he didn’t want them to close.

Your whine, peppered with a moan emitting. “I’m so cl—close.”

Smirking, he licks his lips—dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. The one you want where his fingers currently are. Almost wishing you could speak so you could ask, beg, plead.

“I know, querida. I know. It’s why I want your eyes on me.”

Your body pauses. Halts.

Then he feels it, the beginning—the telltale sign. The incoming he wants to have a second sight for by the end of the night, as he marries his lips to yours, desperate, needy, to taste what it’s like when you call his name as you come.

Fuck you even sound pretty.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him.

But dreams could never live up to him.

His hands on either side of your face, kissing you as you step out of your sweats, and underwear, that he’d yanked down your thighs when you’d caught your breath.

Fuck, he is good with his hands.

It’s the first thought you have since he caged you in the kitchen—all serious, something etched into his forehead that is now smooth, like it was never there. It’s also the first solid thought you’ve had since you returned to Earth from him making you come in the kitchen.

And you’re thankful that his fingers are on your cheeks, your body having turned into liquid—muscles having forgotten their role with your bones betraying you too. Your hand loosened on his wrist, the one you’d gripped to feel what it was he was doing to you, needing to be present with each thrust of his fingers.

Now, you’re leading him.

Body having taken over, while your brain is left still reeling.

Because fuck do you want this. You’ve imagined it, dreamt of it. Frankie, your best friend, the one who knows you better than you know yourself—clearly in more ways than you ever counted on for how quickly he undid you in the kitchen.

It’s why you turn, realising you know him too.

Stories coming to you, memories—ghostly snippets that had filled you with rage that now fuel you—as your hand grips him through his jeans. Quick, careful—well-versed—in the way you crash your mouth to his as his groan vibrates against your tongue. Your spine met the wall closest to your room, him thrusting into your hand, words falling, all laced in lust and dusted in desperation.

“Por favor, te deseo. Please, querida.”

You’re slow in the way you undo his jeans. The pop of the button is dramatic, a sign. Your mouth places kisses against his lips, his cheeks, jaw and neck.

Then, you’re unzipping his fly. The sound cutting through the pants, the heady breaths—the only other discernible sound is the movie the two of you have left playing.

“Wanna wrap my mouth around you, Morales.”

You can’t see him, but you can hear his throat swallow, likely imagining the way his eyes are staring at you, drinking you in, dragging them up and down your face like he was in the kitchen.

“Yeah, you wanna taste me?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, palm brushing over his covered cock—lashes fluttering at the feel of him. Because he’s thick, big—fucking hard. Something you should have known from the way his pants hugged him, the way it commanded a glance when he wore those lighter-wash jeans.

“You think you can take all of me down that pretty throat of yours, baby?”

Snorting, you flatten your palm against him—hearing him hiss, wishing there was light, wanting to see the expression on his face. “I’d give it a good go.”

Dragging his thumb over the curve of your breast, the fabric moving, applying additional friction before he’s lingering, drawing a circle over your nipple until it pebbles, just as you hear him smirk—adamant, somehow you can even see it.

“Later,” he adds. “Need to feel you come around my cock first.”

You couldn’t argue with him. Less so when more clothes fall, unveiling him. All soft muscles, defined when he flexes, the pair of you down to your underwear—a path of removed clothes detailing the route the two of you have taken.

Frankie kisses you hard.

Pulling you back to him, removing any other thought from your mind with ease. Not that you have the time to think about how you can’t believe this is happening, or the movie that’s still playing. Not when he’s leading you, walking you backwards, hand on your waist, thumb drawing circles, squares, triangles and everything else until the back of your legs meet your bed.

Then, you’re falling, landing on cool, cushioning fabric, bouncing ever so slightly as he wipes his hand across his bottom lip.

“Still can’t believe you ever thought you’d repulse me.”

Your skin warms, burns. A part of you wants to hide yourself, cover your stomach with your arm, hide your face in a pillow.

His fingers slide over the fabric at your waist, a whispered can I that you’re quick to nod at, until you’re bare in front of him. No hiding, illuminated by the moon and the stars outside, covered in milky-white light, hoping it’s forgiving on your curves.

“Querida, where are your—“

“I’m clean. Are y-you?”

He nods, direct, quick. Evident of a former soldier as his fingers slide under your chin. Mouth asking if you’re sure, he doesn’t mind. You just kiss his touch, bringing your hand around his wrist, sliding his fingers into your mouth.

I’m sure.

I’m so sure.

Then he’s crawling up you, his mouth slanting over yours. All tongue, all passion. His hand wraps around your head as the other guides the head of his cock through your slick, tilting your face up, opening your eyes to see him barely a breath away as he stares down at the two of you. Eyes pausing on the place where you’ll soon be conjoined.

“Look at me,” you say this time.

Watching his eyes drag back up to yours, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Please fuck me, Frankie.”

He nods, wearing the most gentle, sweetest smile on his face. “I will, I promise. Anything for you, querida.”

All you can think is fuck.

Not getting a second to comprehend his words before he sinks in, every inch of him making you feel so full. Your head going limp in his head, arms tightening around his neck, gasping as he keeps going, and going until he’s buried in you to the hilt.

And you’re sure, could swear on it with confidence, you’ve never felt such fullness—filled to the brim, stuffed.

“So full,” you moan.

You swear he smiles, lit up by the light through your undrawn curtains.

“Thought about this,” he says as he pulls out and slams back in. “After Ben’s party, when you wore those jeans—in the summer when you wore those shorts. Fuck, baby, your legs—”

He says it as he runs a hand over the outside of your thigh, gripping the top as he punctuates it with a thrust.

“Always thought you were pretty, too fucking good for those people you dated—”

Your hips push back, meeting him. “—Frankie—”

“—too good for me, really.”

And you groan, whimper, moan. Letting a no fall out, an attempt at arguing with him for what he said.

But he kisses it away.

Desperate, more passion and teeth than before. A silent pleading for you to bury your words. A mixture of all three coming out at once, hitting the air, tainting it in something good that should feel sinful. Your hand slides down over his neck, shoulder and torso, clutching his waist as you mirror his movements, meeting him with everything you have, lips ghosting over his neck, tasting the salt and smelling the scent you know is just him.

A scent you hope digs into your skin, able to wear it long after this. An aroma that has always brought you comfort, even if it shouldn’t—even if the two of you are friends, nothing more.

And you’re close, beads of sweat on his brow, and if he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever had above you. One that you want to flip onto his back so you can admire him from above—sitting poised on his cock, bouncing on him until your eyes are blazed with stars and satisfaction.

The sounds of the two of you, all obscene, wet, as he grips the back of your thighs and somehow fucks you deeper. Each thrust punches a breath from your lungs, fingers clutching his shoulder, the other buried in the duvet.

“Takin’ me so well, baby. Can’t believe I’m fucking you.”

“Fucking me so good, Frankie. Fuck.”

“Better than your exes?”

You nod, words at a loss. All stolen, punched from you by his cock—because you feel so good, he makes you feel so good.

You swear you hear him say good, all low, voice dark, as you feel his hand sliding between you before he brushes his thumb over your clit. Circling, circling, circling—

Frankie knowing what you need, likely skimmed his fingers across your skin and read you like a map.

That, and the fact he must feel you squeezing him, tightening, vice-like around him as he begins to pound into you.

“I always fucking hated your exes.”

Your back arches, like he commanded it. It sparking, what he’d been driving you to, erupting, rippling out from your core across your body, as his name rips from your throat. The sound of your moan blending into the air, tingeing it, painting it with his groans as he continues to work you through it.

Ever-determined, focused.

Your hand slides down from his shoulder to his chest, to his waist, feeling his muscles flex under the skin.

It’s only as you begin to catch your breath, that you realise how close he is.

You smirk, devilish, all laced with cockiness as you beckon him down, knotting your fingers in his curls, dragging his head down, so your mouth is close to his ear. “Always hated your exes, too,” you say, punctuating the words. “Now be good and fill me up, Morales.”

CHAPTER TWO ->

#jo: iltwy #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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leclsrc · 11 months

Note

happy 3k!! 🫶🏽

"grumbling" and "narrowed eyes" for carlos?

in my dream – cs55

Carlos tries his best to keep you from leaving him lonely.

auds here... title from this but i listened to this on loop while writing (1d girls unite!!!! i was a true blue zayn girl!!!!!)

“That is my shirt.”

You stare at the buttons you’ve been nipping at, realizing a tad too late that it is Carlos’ polo, a plain white one similar to yours, which is somewhere else on the floor. Caught, you turn and find your boyfriend half-awake, sleepy eyes staring at your half-dressed figure. Smiling at his drowsy expression, you roll your eyes.

He likes when you wake up before he does. He finds you on his chest, drawing idle patterns; in the shower, where he almost always joins you; or like today, getting dressed to leave before anybody spots you on his floor. But even in a rush, with your hair all fussed up and a bed mark across your face, he still feels he’s caught in a dream.

“Okay, mister.” You make quick work of unbuttoning the several bottom rows, exaggerating the movement so Carlos sees you’re not in some thick plot to steal his Hugo Boss shirt.

He squints. “And those are my hotel slippers.”

You laugh. “I’ll take them off, then. I was going to anyway, I don’t think they allow cloth slippers in the media pen.”

Dissatisfied, he presses on. “That’s also my bracelet.” He sits up, smiling mischievously, and heaves himself off to take both your wrists and drag you back to bed. “And my hair elastic.” He swipes his thumb over the bracelet and elastic on your left wrist.

“I doubt that,” you say, climbing atop his lap despite yourself. You have work, you have to sneak out before anyone sees and starts a flurry of nasty rumors—but he’s always been good at convincing you to stay. “Your new haircut means you can barely tie a loop around it.” You rake your fingers through his blunt-cut hair.

“Well,” he says, shrugging, “it’s true. And you cannot leave until you have given all these back.” He stamps a kiss onto your jaw. “Sí?” He moves lower, to your exposed collarbones, the area of skin left uncovered by his slouchy polo. He smiles into your skin, smelling faintly of your perfume mixed with his.

“Carlos,” you mutter, pushing lightly despite smiling. “I gotta go.”

He parts from you and narrows his eyes. “Don’t.”

“I’ll get fired,” you quip, buttoning two more. He reaches up to unbutton them and you gasp. “Carlos!”

“You still haven’t given back my…” he inspects your outfit to point out something “of his.” “…Shorts.”

“These are your shorts?” You tug on the hem of the denim that hugs your thighs, clearly not his.

“Fine. My panties.”

“Carlos.” You can’t help but laugh at his desperation, endeared by the fact that he needs you close by all the time. “If you’re into that, we can talk about it in bed tonight.”

“Your report can be about how good I am in bed,” he jokes, hugging you close. You kiss his head and clamber off, pulling your sandals on.

“As a journalist, I’m a firm believer in not spreading fake news,” you say, laughing as you grab your bag and escape the hotel room.

You fix your hair before leaving, still hearing him grumble with early onset separation anxiety on the other side of the door, which opens when you’re just two paces shy of it—

—and a hand comes through and yanks you in for one last kiss, sweet and yearning for more. “Good luck today,” he says. “I love you, miss reporter.”

“Good luck too,” you mumble into his lips, smiling. “Love you more, Carlito.”

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #carlos sainz #car #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Three for One 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Almost to the holiday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Well,” Ransom stops in the doorway as you stand on the tile, Ernie at your heels, “grab a bowl for the damn dog.”

You look at him but say nothing. Ernie isn’t mean without reason so you hardly feel bad for him. He must’ve done something really bad to make the giant sweetheart into such a beast.

You go to the counter and reach to the cupboard. He doesn’t offer any direction as you find only glasses and mugs inside. You move to the next; dry goods and cans. You shift back the other way and pop open another door; there’s a stack of bowls inside. A bit small but it’ll have to do.

As you clasp the edge of the bowl, you feel a sudden presence behind you. Before you can react, Ransom is against you, his arms hooking under yours as he cups your tits in his hands. He rocks with you as Ernie snarls.

“Get the dog to shut up,” he squeezes. “Or I’ll feed it bleach.”

You call Ernie’s name. He gives one last rumble but quiets. You set the bowl on the counter as Ransom leans into you, nuzzling your head as he fondles you. You hope he can’t feel your heart pounding.

“Mmm, they feel just as nice as they look. Why don’t you slip that sweater off so I can get a taste,” he pushes you against the counter, “you give that fuzzy-lipped bastard the good stuff–”

“Goddamnit,” Andy’s hiss cuts through the tension. Ransom sighs onto your hair, giving a tweak through the wool before reluctantly parting, “keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” Ransom spins and stomps his foot, “what are we even waiting for? We do all this–” He gestures with his hand, “and you’re bossing me around like a child.”

“You are,” Andy accuses as he approaches and puts down the bag of kibble on the counter, “I salvaged what I can,” he says to you directly.

“Um, thank you,” you swallow. He smiles before he faces the other man again, “we haven’t even opened our presents.”

Ransom narrows his eyes as his cheek ticks. He arches a brow and shrugs, “fine. So why don’t we get it over with?”

“Breakfast first,” Andy insists. “It’s tradition.”

“Who’s fucking tradition?”

“They have to start somewhere, don’t they?” Andy challenges.

You frown. Tradition. You really hope you don’t have time to build any of those.

“Honey, you stay, help me with breakfast,” Andy turns his back on Ransom, “the other two can get the table ready…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “you can handle that, can’t you?”

Ransom’s nostrils flare and he bares his teeth. He kind of reminds you of Ernie when he does that. The dog tilts his head curiously as he watches the scene, ignorant of the words but sensing the vibes.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” Ransom growls. “Have fun playing fucking house.”

He storms off, his shoulder hitting the door frame in his anger and drawing a grunt from him. You flinch and bring your hands up to wring. Andy tuts and faces the counter, glancing over at you.

“Are you alright, honey?” He asks, letting his hand fingers flutter to the edge of your cuff.

“Yeah,” you answer smally. That’s what he wants. For you to be helpless, to need him. And you do, just not the way he intends. “He… he isn’t nice like you.”

The corners of his lips curve just a little as his eyes search you, “you think so?”

You nod and slide the bowl off the counter, “I’m going to feed Ernie.”

“Alright,” he relents and takes a step back, “uh, yeah, he’s probably starving.”

You move around Andy and dip the bowl into the bag of kibble. He clears his throat and goes to work, pulling down ingredients. Nothing fancy. He sets a box of pancake batter as he pulls the waffle maker away from the wall. Your stomach growls loudly and Andy grins in your direction.

“You too, huh?”

You smile over the bowl of kibble in your hands, “a little, yeah.” You turn to Ernie as he sniffs the air and drools. You go to him and bend your knees to put the bowl on the floor. You know he’s watching. Good, he’s just as simple as the others.

🎀

You’re the only one who seems interested in the meal. Only because it gives you something to focus on to keep your imagination from straying too far. Of course, you’re not as stupid as these men think. You know all too well their intent. Yet there efforts continue to confound you.

You offer to clean up. Another excuse to keep yourself busy. Away from them. Andy insists that he does that task and sends you off the other two to the front room. You’re less than eager to walk between them as they get closer and closer, nearly squishing you as you reach your destination.

You flit away from them and claim a spot in the lone armchair. Ernie follows and sits at your feet. He keeps his head up, panting as he watches the men and you avoid looking at them altogether. Lloyd strolls along the mantle and sucks his teeth as Ransom sits on the extension of the sectional.

“Fucking lame…” Lloyd mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Ransom agrees, the clink of dishes sounding from the kitchen.

You hate to admit it so you won’t, but they’re right.

Your eyes drift along and settle on the tree. There are a slew of wrapped gifts underneath. They weren’t there the day before.

The awkward silence doesn’t last long as Andy emerges. He looks around, tucking his hands in his pockets as he takes in the room. He’s not in his typical suit. You didn’t take time to notice before but he looks cozy. He wears a blue sweater and a pair of jeans a shade darker. It makes him look softer than usual.

You check the other men. They’re not very festive. They wear what you can only assume is their usual look. Lloyd in a tight black tee which does little to conceal the buds of his nipples. Your gaze wants to fixate there but you resist that odd temptation. He’s paired the dark top with a pair of pine striped ankle pants and velvet loafers. You call it douche formal. The customers who dress like that usually don’t even understand how to check the website.

Then Ransom. Not too dissimilar to Andy but still himself. An ivory sweater with brown pants, a locket peeking out below his collar from the slim gold chain around his neck. It screams rich prick trying too hard to look like he’s not trying.

The one thing these men have in common is their ignorance. They don’t know, they never considered that you can read them. You spent years in retail, you know people. A little more than you like. They took your demeanour as innocent and naive, they don’t consider it as defensive.

“Alright, finally, let’s open some presents,” Andy claps his hands together.

“Before we start,” Lloyd leans beside the mantle, “I have a question?”

Andy looks at him, waiting.

“Shouldn't you be doing this with your family–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Andy snaps but stops himself, showing his palm, “that’s not for you to worry about.”

“I’m looking out for you–”

“I know what you’re doing,” Andy points at him.

Lloyd snickers.

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Ransom stands, Ernie tense as he does. They look at each other. “Can we put the dog away?

All three men look at Ernie. You look back at them as you reach to pet the dog’s broad head.

“He’s not hurting anyone,” you plead.

“Not yet,” Ransom scoffs.

“Look, pussy cat, you’re lucky that thing’s even here.”

You want to scowl and bite back. They knew you had a dog when they took you. You mentioned him several times. It’s not exactly your fault they didn’t factor him into the equation.

“We don’t want him to get worked up,” Andy assuages, “why don’t you take him to your room for now? We wouldn’t want him to ruin any of your gifts.”

“He won’t,” you argue, not quick enough to stop yourself. “He’s trained.

“I know, honey, but just for a little. He can come back out later.”

“Yeah, or I can drive him out to the highway,” Lloyd snorts.

You furrow your brow at him. He snickers as your anger amuses him. You quickly wipe it away. You can’t lose your cool yet. You slowly get up, stepping over Ernie and exposing a bit too much thigh. You call the dog’s name but he doesn’t move. He knows something’s wrong.

You bend and grab his collar, “come on, buddy, please.”

At first he doesn’t budge but relents as you coax him with quiet whispers. He lets you lead him out, dragging his large paws with your less than urgent pace. You get to the open bedroom and look inside.

“Sorry, Ern,” you say as you nudge him ahead, “it’ll be okay, I promise. Mama take care of you.”

He goes into the room and turns to stare back at you with his doe eyes. You want to melt into a puddle. He’s so cute and sweet. He doesn’t deserve all this. If it was just you, you’d fight, but you have to worry about him.

You shut the door and go back to the living room. The men seem anxious as you enter. Ransom pinches the locket around his neck between his fingers, Andy smooths the front of his sweater with his large hand, and Lloyd digs his heel into the floor as he picks his fingernail.

“Alright,” Andy exhales as he faces you, “so, honey, you start.”

You blink at him and cross your arms. You don’t know what he means. You glance around, between each of them.

“Open a gift,” Andy steps back and gestures to the tree, “they’re all for you.”

Your stomach churns and your heart flips. Something about this is off. Not just that you’ve been abducted or this weird house with locks on the doors and deafening walls. More than these men and their incessant leers. There’s more than a dozen presents, for you alone, but why?

“Me?” You pull your arms apart and force them down to your sides, clutching the weave of the sweater dress.

“Go on,” Lloyd encourages with a wink.

You restrain yourself as best you can. Fear courses through you as you try to unravel their riddle. What are they up to? They’re watching you like wolves, prowling, ready to pounce, so why don’t they?

You tiptoe forward and as you near Andy, he stays exactly where he is. You brush against him and feel his breath fan over you. You pass Ransom as he once more sits on the foot of the sectional.

You stop before the tree and consider the array of gifts; boxes, bags, and wrapped bundles. It’s the sort of haul any child dreams of. You remember the Christmas Eves you lay awake sleepless hoping for just this. Waking to only a new pair of socks and a couple toiletries from the group home. You didn’t often get what you wanted, but you could get by with what you needed.

You bend your knees, the hem of the sweater rising up your thighs as you reach for a small box. You stand and turn to the men, staring down at the red box with a gold bow on top. You gulp and peek up at them. They all just watch.

You wiggle the lid until it pops off. You reveal a pair of dangling pearl earrings. They’re pretty. Probably real but you don’t have the eye to tell. You peer up again, confused. It’s actually a very nice gift.

“Who’s it from?” Andy asks.

You flinch and check the tag. You should’ve done that first. You pull it straight as it hides under the tail of the bow, “Ransom,” you read.

“Ha!” He claps his hands, together then on his knees, “fuck yeah.”

“Huh?” You utter dumbly.

“Shit,” Lloyd mutters and Andy lets his disappointment flow out heavily.

“What…” you can’t finish the question.

“Pretty nice gift, huh?” Ransom taunts, “so, uh, what’s my gift, sweetheart?”

You grimace and examine the wall behind him, “I don’t… have anything…”

“Actually,” he interjects, “I think you do. Why don’t you pop those on, then pop your tits out?”

You gape at him. He bites his lip as you stand dumbfounded and humiliated. Lloyd chuckles and Andy growls as he paces, sitting in the armchair.

“I don’t…”

“It’s an exchange, not free for all, you got yours. I get mine,” he tilts his head, “so put those on and let me fuck your tits.”

You close your mouth. You’re not surprised but you’re not ready either. You didn’t expect them to hold out forever but you need more time. The problem is they’re not playing by your schedule, you have to adjust to yours. That means, you’ll be working from behind.

“I’m waiting,” Ransom huffs, “you know, you’re being pretty ungrateful there, sweetheart.”

Andy plants his elbow on the armrest as you look at him, “do it.”

“But…” you pout, “you said…”

“He gave you a gift,” Andy said. “He won’t hurt you. I’m here.”

You nearly drop the box. What does he mean he won’t hurt you? You don’t want to do that.

Well…

You don’t have a choice. As rotten as it is, it will only be worse if you refuse. You lower your chin and nod. You turn to set the box down on the small table just beside the couch, too close to Ransom. He snickers as you hear his zipper whisper down. Oh god.

You pull out your plain gold hoops and replace them with the teardrop pearls. You feel them dangle between your fingertips and raise your head. Worse than what you’re about to do is the audience. This isn’t just you being violated, this is that violation being witnessed.

You walk along the sectional and Ransom catches your wrist, pulling you forward impatiently. He turns you to face him. Your eyes widen as you try not to look lower than you need to. His cock bobs at the edge of your vision.

“Take this off,” he touches the hem of the dress.

You spread your sweaty palms over the wool. Slowly, you tug it upwards. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as you reveal your nakedness to the room. You stand only in the knee highs and panties.

“Damn,” Lloyd clucks, “an ass on this one.”

Andy doesn’t comment, he only hums as the chair creaks under his weight.

“Get down,” he orders.

You hold your breath and obey. You get to your knees as Ransom plays with himself. You can’t look him in the face and you definitely don’t want to look down. You stare instead at his sweater.

“Push your tits together,” he demands.

Again, you listen. It’s like you’re in a trance. The room is fuzzy and your body is hollow. He laughs again and taps his tip against your tits.

“Fuck, those are some nice tits,” he remarks, grabbing your shoulder to urge your closer.

He slips his dick between your cleavage. His throbbing head pokes up above the swell of flesh. He dips down and back up, rocking you by your shoulder as he guides you. You move with him, fighting back the tide of repulsion.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “come on and give it a kiss, sweetheart.”

You flinch. He squeezes your shoulder. A warning. You bend your head and kiss his tip as it once more pokes above your cleavage. He groans and his hand moves to cover one of yours, making you grope yourself tighter.

“Fuck,” he rasp, “you know what…” he turns to Andy, reminding you of the others, of them watching you, “I think I get it now.” He winks at you as you fuck his length with your tits, “good fucking choice, Barber.”

344 notes · View notes