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lotusbxtch · 8 months ago

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SoCal to NorCal: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x f!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together? - or - you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 2: Highway 101 & Beyond

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader x Joel Miller

Chapter Summary: As you road trip north, you and Frankie struggle to voice your growing feelings for each other. Joel suggests something surprising, and the three of you unexpectedly explore new territory together.

Word Count: 8.7k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, phone sex, video sex, masturbation (f and m), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum kink, cum eating, there’s a lot of cum lol i’m sorry in advance if that’s not your thing, squirting, slight size kink, mentions of food, mentions of Frankie’s young daughter named Isabella, mentions of drug addiction and recovery, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, she/her pussy pronouns, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Frankie the PEK, Joel’s filthy mouth is absolutely its own warning, idiots in love, a splash of angst, soft!Joel but also menace!Joel because we love a man with duality, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control.

a/n: The road trip continues! I’m so excited to dive more into Frankie and Reader’s relationship, and I KNOW you all have been waiting for Joel to get into the mix. Well, buckle up buttercups, because he is about to be THE BIGGEST MENACE lmao. A deeply grateful thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime, who encourages me every day, helped me massively flesh out some of the more emotional aspects of the chapter, and who I talk to almost every day, in addition to being my beta reader. Thank you @mountainsandmayhem, @alltheirdamn , and @mermaidgirl30 for screaming with me about these three when I shared excerpts with you. And thank you to everyone for being patient with me while I got this written up between huge life events (both good and bad)! Dividers & banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you. (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

You’re so happy.

After your short but memorable stay with Santiago, you and Frankie have been on the road, spending the last few days leisurely meandering up Highway 1 towards San Francisco. You take turns driving, playing car DJ, and sightseeing as you travel north. Tanned feet on the dash, chaste kisses to the back of hands while driving, a shifting playlist between your differing musical tastes. Nights spent snuggled up in a rental or hotel room, playing 20 Questions or “Would You Rather”, kisses turning into intertwining of limbs, labored breath and fingers gripping bed sheets, the murmuring of each other’s names like prayers.

In Ojai, you drank a little too much wine at the tasting room and biked back to the hotel with wobbly legs. Hearst Castle landed on your list for the formerly-captive-now-wild zebras (you) and to gawk at “ridiculously rich people shit” (Frankie). Ocean kayaking amongst the sea otters and sea lions in Morro Bay filled both of you with wonder. Frankie let you lead him into every little boutique shop that called your name, contentedly trailing behind you while you browsed.

Wherever you were, Frankie indulged your sweet tooth by sniffing out the best artisan ice cream shops. One time during a playful debate, you bopped your frozen treat to Frankie’s nose, giggling at his surprised expression and kissing the sticky-sweet remnants off of him before he picked you up over his shoulder. Your shrieks of joy ricocheted off the small town street until he tossed you in the backseat of his Jeep and crawled in after you, demanding a taste of something sweeter. Before you knew it, you were moaning and sighing under Frankie’s ministrations in an abandoned parking lot. The sight of his messy curls between your thighs as he lapped at your core propelled you into a stratosphere of pleasure.

The next morning, you continued your road trip north and stopped in Santa Cruz to experience the boardwalk since Frankie had never been. Sun-drenched wood slats under your feet, the crisp, briny breeze cooling your exposed skin. You and Frankie meander slowly, eating chocolate dipped soft serve cones and curly fries, hopping onto the slightly rickety carnival rides, including the famous wooden (and creaky) Giant Dipper roller coaster. (“This thing can’t be structurally sound if it’s making all that noise,” Frankie muttered, but you still got him to get on.)

Adrenaline trickling through your veins, giddy with endorphins from the coaster, you and Frankie debate who had the best strategy for the carousel’s metal ring toss game. “You can’t just huck it like a ninja star,” he gripes about your approach, shaking his head with a smile. “You have to finesse and time it, and throw it like a frisbee so it floats in.”

“I swear, I was way closer than you were,” you shoot back. “I’ve had my whole life to perfect my technique. One of my rings hit the clown’s mouth! More than I can say about your attempts.” You stick your tongue out at Frankie, and he rolls his eyes playfully. Neither of you had set off the lights and buzzers that indicated a successful throw. He’s about to point this out when his phone trills.

Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyebrows knit together a bit before answering. “Mamá,” Frankie says into the phone, “Que pasa? Is something wrong?” He had dropped off Isabella with her for the duration of the road trip, his mother always eager to have “girl time” with her only grandchild.

“No, no, mijo,” she responds, “Estámos bien. Isa is napping. I just wanted to call you and see how your vacation is going. You work so hard, you deserve to have this time to yourself!”

Frankie breaths a small sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, good. Well, I’ve gotta keep it short. We’re out here on the pier.”

“ ‘WE?’ ” you suddenly hear screeching out of the phone, her tone ecstatic. “Who are you with? Oh my goodness, are you with that girl?”

Frankie winces, holding the phone away from his ear as you chuckle. “Yes, mamá,” Frankie responds, “the woman I told you about. You don’t need to yell.” He looks at you, a blush slowly creeping up his face, a sheepish smile on his lips. He mouths “five minutes” while walking towards the side of the walkway. Nodding your head with a smile, you whisper, “take your time,” and kiss his cheek, settling on a bench nearby but out of earshot of the conversation, allowing Frankie his privacy.

“Oh, mijo, that’s wonderful!” his mother exclaims. “When do I get to meet her?”

Frankie huffs out a laugh. “Mamá, relax. You will get to meet her in time. We’re not quite there yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Haven’t you been together for a few months now?”

“Yes, but…” Frankie trails off, not quite sure his mother can handle a full explanation of your situation. Honestly, as he thinks about it, he isn’t even 100% sure what to call the two of you anymore. “It’s complicated,” he says simply.

The both of you agreed to enjoy what you had with no expectations. But “no expectations” changed over the days, weeks, months to become a desire to be around each other more days than not. Visits in the dead of night became dates during the day, morphing into waking up in each other’s arms, eating breakfast together over the weekends, bedhead and sleepy eyes and warm smiles. He thinks about the way you make him laugh, head thrown back, with his whole chest. He thinks about your playful debates, the way you tease him when he loses to you in Mario Kart. He thinks about the way you writhe under, on top of, beside him as he draws pleasure from your body again and again, your moans and gasps creating the prettiest song he’s ever heard. Frankie thinks about your soul, your heart, your innate goodness, and then he thinks about how he can’t possibly deserve any more than you already give him, despite him realizing more every day that he can’t imagine his life without you.

Frankie’s mother clears her throat on the other end of the line, and he snaps back to the present moment.

“Francisco,” she says softly. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just tell her how you feel, and see where it takes you. If she's as special as you say she is, you're going to regret not saying anything.”

Frankie looks down at his boots, and then back at you. You smile at him from the bench, your sundress fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Mamá, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“If you want something, Francisco, go for it. I always told you that you need to be more confident in yourself.” Frankie’s mother sighs affectionately. “You have done so much for your career, for Isabella… you have more than made up for your transgressions, mijito. Do this one thing for yourself. Take the risk.”

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship, when he said he didn’t want anything serious because he was focusing on his career and his daughter. Not only was he in a stable job with room for upward movement, and becoming the father that Isabella deserved, it was because of you that he was able to achieve his goals. You’ve always supported him, encouraged him, and given him reality checks when he needed it. Not once have you asked for more in the relationship, but he never felt like you had to. He was willing to give you that and so much more. He was nearly certain that you felt the same way about having each other as a more permanent part of your lives, but without ever asking the question directly, he couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t just all in his head.

Frankie swallows thickly. “You’re right,” he acquiesces. “I’ll talk to her soon, when the moment is right. I don’t want to lose her.”

His mother coos sweetly at him. “Now that’s the son I know and love! I’ll let you go have fun with your lady. I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, Mamá,” Frankie whispers, and then ends the call.

You’re people watching at the boardwalk as Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. There’s no surprise triggered by his arms around you, just a calm ease and warmth. He presses kisses into your hair and sighs deeply. Tipping your head to the side, you return the kisses up his arm and rub his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s your mamá?” you ask.

“Good,” Frankie responds, “just checking in to make sure I was having fun on my vacation.” A sheepish grin blooms on his face. “Sorry you had to hear her scream about you.”

You snicker as you stand up from the bench. “Nah, it wasn’t my ear she yelled into… But I didn’t mind at all. It’s sweet how she checks up on you.”

He grins, lifting his cap briefly to run his fingers through his hair. “She knows how hard I’ve been working to make things right with my job, and with Isabella, and she’s been pushing me to take some time off.” He sighs, looking off into the distance, and you know him well enough to know he’s doubtful of his progress.

“You deserve it, Frankie,” you murmur to him, lacing your fingers with his. You both start strolling along the boardwalk again, Frankie looking deeply in thought. “You’re always so hard on yourself, and at the very least, you deserve some time off.”

Glancing over at him, your breath catches. Frankie’s already staring at you, curls wild in the sea breeze, brown eyes warm and sparkling. Suddenly your chest feels like it’s cracked open, warm and aching. You feel the spark in your heart, and you realize that your feelings may be more than a simple affection. You search Frankie’s eyes and you can see a steady hidden layer under the warmth of his gaze as he lifts your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. It makes your heart do somersaults, the deeper unspoken emotions that flickered across his irises. A deep devotion that tugs at your soul.

He deserves the world.

Frankie huffs a laugh, dropping his gaze. “Everyone seems to tell me that. Guess I should stop being so damn stubborn and start believing them.” You continue walking, Frankie swinging your hands between the two of you as you settle into comfortable silence.

This is more than lust and companionship, you think to yourself. The way he looks at you, touches you with such reverence. It goes deeper than respect and fondness. Only Joel had ever given you butterflies and yet here you are, a fluttering in your gut, foreign but familiar. But what does that mean for you and Joel?

Can your heart love two people at once?

Whoa…. wait, “love”??

You push the thoughts away with a shake of your head, determined to be present in the moment with Frankie. Bumping gently into his shoulder to get his attention, you flash him a smile.

“Wanna see which one of us can win first at the dime toss game?” you ask Frankie, and his eyes crinkle at the corners the way you love so much when he smiles in return, his competitive streak flaring.

“Sweetness, I thought you’d never ask. Prepare to lose.”

After you absolutely demolish Frankie at the dime toss (he swears they rigged the bowls he was aiming for), you and Frankie hit the road towards the cute cottage you’d booked for the night. Among the draws was its proximity to good food while being simultaneously off the beaten path. You were dying to try the seafood restaurant nearby, which was recommended to Frankie by one of his coworkers.

Per usual for the northern California coast, the fog began to roll in from the beach, casting ghostly tendrils across the road. Fog was one of the things you missed most about home while in SoCal, where it was a rarity. You roll up the windows and flip on your seat heater with a content sigh, then drape your body over the center console to grab your oversized cardigan from the back. The move makes your short dress hike further up your thighs as you reach for the soft knit. Frankie glances in the rearview mirror, spotting a flash of the curve of your ass where it peeks out of your panties. The sight has him already hardening in his pants. A quiet groan rises from his throat involuntarily, and you smirk, knowing exactly what he’s reacting to.

“God, hermosa, that fucking dress,” Frankie grits. “I’ve been half hard all day seeing you in it.” You say nothing, but look over at him, your smirk growing bigger as you recline the seat a bit more and stretch your body just so, making the light blue eyelet lace material ride higher up your thighs, which you spread lasciviously.

“Oh?” you tease. “What are you going to do about it?” You see Frankie’s eyes flash with desire for a moment, but he works hard to keep his cool.

His hand inches up your inner thigh while he drives, teasing swirls with his fingertips across your soft skin. You pant quietly, your breasts heaving gently against the low, curved neckline, and bite back a whimper as more arousal pools in your cotton underwear. “Take off your panties,” Frankie gently commands.

Dragging the material down your hips and legs, you let your thighs part for him, inviting his touch. Frankie keeps his eyes on the road, calmly navigating towards a quiet backroad. His focused demeanor is a lie though; his increasingly rapid breathing is a dead giveaway. When his fingers brush against your drenched folds, he groans and grips the wheel tighter with his driving hand.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grits out. “You’re so fucking wet for me already.” His nimble fingers explore you, spreading the slick around, swiping a soft circle around the pearl of your clit. He plays with you, and you start to writhe. A smirk blooms on his face as he clocks your movement. Frankie loves teasing you like this, drawing things out until you buckle under the pressure of your mounting desires. But the throbbing of his cock and your soft mewling sounds are making him desperate.

Frankie pulls the car over to a small lot connected to an overlook, its parking spaces empty since the vista point is shrouded in fog. Trees block the view of your parking spot to traffic on the road. He throws the car in park, ripping his seatbelt off, and pulls your face to his for a passionate kiss. Swallowing your moans with his lips, Frankie tangles his tongue with yours while his fingers grip the base of your skull.

“You’re killing me with this slutty little sundress,” he pants, sliding his hand down to cup your naked sex.

You let out a strangled cry. “Frankie, I need you.”

Frankie shushes you gently. “Get in the back, nenita. I’ve got you.” You comply, scrambling over the center console and pushing your back up against the door, legs spreading wide and fingers tracing your glistening folds. He feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get his mouth on you in the next twenty seconds. He gets out of the front seat, yanking open the driver’s side back door and shutting it behind him after he slides in towards you.

“Gonna suck on that sweet little clit of yours ‘til you scream,” Frankie growls as he crawls towards your body, pushing your knees further towards your torso so you’re opened up lewdly for him. He slides his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them, slipping them out and immediately burying them to the second knuckle in your soft cunt. A high-pitched whine is ripped from your throat.

“Frankie!” you whine, eyebrows furrowing together as you lock eyes with him. The mocha richness of his eyes has given way to pits of nearly black desire, and he keeps them on you while he presses his tongue flat to your swollen clit. Your eyes roll back and you nearly scream in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he murmurs into your drenched folds, and then buries his face into you. You weave your fingers into his fluffy curls, opening your eyes to watch him at work.

Frankie’s eyes slip closed as he rhythmically pumps his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, curving them slightly up to hit that magical spot you can never quite reach the same way as he does. He sucks your hardened clit into his mouth, nestling it between the cleft of his lower lip and an almost imperceptible divot in the center of his tongue. That sweet, talented tongue swirls in precise tiny circles with the perfect pressure, while continuing to suckle exactly how you like it. Joel may go down on you like nobody’s business, but Frankie has cunnilingus nearly down to a science. At this point, he knows the exact series of moves to bring you to orgasm, and how long it takes really just depends on how long he feels like eating pussy that day. Sometimes, he’ll lay with his face between your legs for hours.

And right now? Frankie seems to want to break his own record for how fast he can get you to come.

Within seconds, you feel your orgasm gathering in your muscles. The tight shimmer of pleasure reverberates across your skin, in your bones, through every cell in your body, suspended in time, just waiting for a release. Frankie feels you tightening on his fingers, and you swear you feel him smirk against your slick folds. He keeps going, never faltering his movements, as the feeling inside you builds.

“Frankie,” you whine again, your body starting to shake. It shouldn't be physically possible for him to get you there so fast, and yet you feel that bowstring drawing impossibly tense in your body. “Frankie, I’m gonna… I’m so….” you keen, high-pitched, your chest heaving fast. Frankie moans against your folds, pressing just a bit harder with his fingers, crooking them just right, and sucks your clit hard.

You’re lucky that the area is truly secluded, because the scream tearing out of your throat as you shatter in ecstasy is loud. Your thighs lock around Frankie’s head as he moans deeply into your pussy, drawing out your orgasm expertly. Slick weeps from your cunt, soaking his lips and chin, and he slurps down every drop. He slows and gentles his ministrations on your core until he feels your thighs relax. Pulling back, he gives your folds one last kiss before he moves up your body to hover over your face, admiring the flush lighting up your features. Frankie kisses you gently, and you cup his face with both hands.

“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Frankie slurs, pussydrunk on you.

“God, you’re incredible,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him deeper, the taste of your own essence making you clench involuntarily. You can feel the thick, hard line of him against your thigh. Moaning, you press yourself into him. “Let me ride you, Francisco.”

Frankie lets out a groan as he pulls you up. You rest your knees on the backseat, littering kisses over his face as he unbuttons and shoves his jeans and boxers down. His cock smacks his belly, precum smearing on his skin. Leaning over, you lick it off, his salty taste invading your senses. Frankie groans again when you suck him into your mouth. You gently lick his foreskin and pull it down to reveal his ruddy head, the tip leaking. Slurping and suckling, you sneak a hand between your thighs to rub your clit, the action not going unnoticed by Frankie. It seems to snap him out of his trance.

“I need to be inside you so badly,” he grits out, pulling you onto his lap. The skirt of your sundress flares over the both of you. Reaching down, he brushes his tip against your folds, making you both whine. Swirling it through your combined slick and spit, Frankie presses his head into you slowly. You take over, grabbing his hand to place it over your hip, and grind down on him, letting his length slip further and further into you. Your breath hitches as he spreads your walls, always a stretch no matter how many times you’ve taken him.

Frankie drops his head back against the headrest, his hands gripping you tightly. “You’re always so fucking tight for me, querida,” he pants, his eyes glazing over with lust. His words prompt another wave of slick to leak out of you, aiding your descent down his shaft as you swirl your cunt around him. Both of you moan, and soon enough you’re fully seated on him. You lean down, kissing him passionately, and he responds in kind, slipping his tongue into your mouth to massage against yours. Your hips begin to roll and Frankie breaks the kiss, a deep rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s like hot velvet,” he grits out, grabbing your hips to buck up into you. He trails kisses down your jaw and leaves little love bites as he goes. The car is filled with the slap of flesh, the squelch of your cunt as you fuck yourself on his cock, your shared gasps and panted breaths. Frankie slips the straps of your dress down, pulling down the cups with it, your breasts spilling out of their confines. He ducks his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You whimper.

“God, Francisco,” you whine, riding him harder, spurred on by the way he laves his tongue over your pebbled nipple, gently catching and pulling it between his teeth. He switches to your other breast, his other hand anchored to your hip to guide your motions. His cock kisses that spot deep in you that only Frankie and Joel have ever found, and the feeling rips another moan from you.

“That’s it, fucking ride my cock,” Frankie pants. You lean forward, changing the angle a bit until your clit catches on his belly, which triggers your pussy to clench in pleasure.

“Oh god, you feel so fucking good in me,” you moan, grinding down harder onto him, massaging your walls with his thick shaft and your clit with the friction of his course hairs. “You fill me up so well.”

“Softest, wettest pussy I’ve ever fucked, I swear,” Frankie slurs, losing himself in the feeling of you wrapped around his length. “You feel like silk on me, nenita.”

Your clit swells with the stimulation of every roll of your hips, making your cunt clench around Frankie. He lets out a whine. Your brows furrow in concentration as you seat his length in you as far as it will go, and he nearly chokes when he feels his tip kiss your cervix.

“You’re so deep in me,” you moan, working yourself on his shaft. “Tell me how good this pussy feels.” You’re desperate to hear him lose it.

“You feel amazing,” he whines, his dick hardening and swelling even more as he approaches his high. It feels like he’s lighting up every nerve ending inside of you. At this point, Frankie’s lap is dripping with your arousal, slick squelching and slapping sounds as thick in the air as the smell of sex. Both of you are covered in a sheen of sweat. You can tell he’s getting closer, so you start fucking him harder, driving his cock deeply into you, to the point where you feel like you’re beginning to meld together, a writhing, wet, hot mess of pleasure.

“Yeah?” you ask rhetorically, riding him harder and harder. “Are you going to come for me, Francisco?” You continue to use his full name, knowing how much it turns him on when you say it. “I want you to fuck me so full of your cum; I wanna be dripping for days. I want you to fill me up so bad.”

“Oh fuck, nenita,” Frankie whines as he loses himself in your heat. “I’m gonna fuck you so full. Gonna give you all of my cum. Gonna put it right where it belongs, deep in this cunt.” You roll your hips harder, your tits bouncing with the effort, and Frankie fucking whimpers. Your pussy tightens at the sound. It always turns you on so much when he loses control.

“Do it, Francisco. Fill me up,” you pant, your own orgasm barrelling towards you. Frankie’s thighs begin to quiver under you, and you know he’s almost there, too. You grip the base of his skull with one hand while the other steadies yourself on his shoulder, and then you lean down, nipping his earlobe. He whimpers again, completely fucked out.

“Come for me, now,” you beg in a whisper.

Frankie shouts as his grip on you turns to steel, and at the first hot spurt of his cum inside of you, your orgasm rips through you. Your cunt clenches, prolonging his pleasure, as your release soaks Frankie’s lap and his cum paints your insides. You both cry out at the feeling, foreheads pressed together. Frankie leans in and latches his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss.

As you both come down from your highs, you lean into Frankie, and he rubs his hands along your back soothingly. The softest kisses pepper your face, your sweat cooling down your skin while you both heave breaths, trying to recover. You weave your fingers into Frankie’s damp curls and scratch his scalp.

“Couldn’t wait ‘til we got to the rental, huh?” you quip.

Frankie huffs a laugh and hums in pleasure at your ministrations on his scalp. “Not when you tempt me with those dresses, baby. You know what flashing me a peek under your skirt does to me.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” you tease, nipping his ear.

He jerks away at the ticklish sensation, then gently bites your shoulder in retribution. “Such a tease, hermosa,” he tuts. You both begin to untangle your sweat-slick limbs, and you slip yourself off of Frankie’s cock, groaning quietly in contentment as you stem the flow of his spend from your pussy with your fingers, shuffling around, seeking your panties. Finding them in the front seat, you slip them on, pressing the fabric into your cunt to keep yourself full of Frankie. Both of you get back into the front seats.

You fix your hair as you settle back in but pause, looking up to see your boyfriend staring at you, an achingly soft expression painting his whole face. Amber eyes, golden flecked irises, striking deep to your soul.

Breath catching in your throat, vulnerability rolling through your nerves. That flutter in your heart once again.

Before you can process anything, Frankie shakes his head slightly, as if emerging from a daze. “Well I’ve certainly worked up an appetite,” he quips, squeezing your knee gently. “Let’s get some of that clam chowder.” You nod, breathing deeply and shoot him a crooked little smile. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and then puts the Jeep into gear.

A couple hours later, you arrive at the rental, Frankie bringing both of your bags in. You close the door behind the two of you, kicking off your shoes, and survey the place. A small kitchenette to the left, cute velour loveseat to the right, and through adorable French doors, the king size bed, dressed in the fluffiest looking bedding. A dresser and full-length gilded mirror complete the decor in the bedroom, everything fitting perfectly into a cottagecore dream aesthetic. The last of the natural lighting filters through the windows.

Frankie drops a quick kiss to your forehead. “I need to scrub off the road,” he says in passing while stripping off his clothes. “Why don’t you relax a bit before we decide what we’re doing for the rest of the night?”

You snort out a laugh. “Frankie, it’s not like we’re on the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon. We’ve been driving in an air-conditioned car, Mr. Drama Queen.” He laughs and tosses his hat at you, disappearing into the en suite bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Settling into the plush bed, you set Frankie’s hat on the dresser and grab your phone to catch up on messages missed during the drive, when suddenly your phone starts buzzing. Joel’s name flashes onto the screen, and you hit the green button to accept the video call.

“Hey, baby,” you coo, grinning widely as Joel’s handsome tan face appears on your screen. His umber & silver hair is damp and slicked back, likely fresh out of the shower just like Frankie will be in a few minutes. The headboard of the bed you share with Joel sits behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?”

Joel chuckles. “What, can’t a man call his pretty wife just to see her face and tell her that he loves her?”

You giggle. “I suppose that’s a good enough reason.” His eyes soften, and then flick down the screen.

“I see you’re wearing that sundress I like so much,” Joel muses.

You smile, extending the arm holding your phone so he can see more of your body. “Oh, this little number?” You shift onto your knees, spreading them wide and running your other hand teasingly slow from your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, across your waist, and then down your thigh, retracing your path slightly to lift the hem of the skirt. “Frankie hadn’t seen it before, and he likes it just as much as you do.” Your cheeks flush at the memory of Frankie taking you in the car, and Joel hums lowly when you break eye contact with him.

“Did you and Frankie get up to some fun earlier, baby?” You pause, unsure of where this is going, and then nod your head.

“Words, sweetheart,” Joel reminds you.

“Yes, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

He nods approvingly, a small smirk gracing his plush lips. “I could tell, you got that faraway look in your eyes like you do when you’re thinking about me fucking you.” Joel shifts his seat on the bed, and you recognize the movement as a sign that he’s getting turned on. This is a new development, you think to yourself. He’s rarely asked about sex with Frankie before.

“Did Frankie treat your pussy right? Did he fill you up?” You nod again, your core beginning to pulse as you affirm with your words, and Joel groans.

“Let me see it.”

You choke on your breath. “What?”

This was not something Joel had ever asked before.

“You heard me, darlin’,” Joel asserts, his eyes darkening. “Let me see that pretty pussy full of Frankie’s cum.”

A full-body shiver ripples through you. “Yes, Joel,” you murmur obediently, sliding off the bed to retrieve the phone stand you use often when you’re away from Joel. You set it up on the dresser near the bed, the front-facing camera angled advantageously for him while allowing you to see him as well. Coming back into frame, you slowly unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor. You slide your damp panties down, the heady scent of Frankie’s cum wafting up from your heated core. Joel leans back and lets out a low groan.

You climb back onto the bed once naked, noticing Joel’s espresso brown eyes have deepened to the color of a moonless night, his pupils dilated in desire. Putting your back to the camera, you get onto your hands and knees, canting your hips forward and ass back. You rest your forearms on the bed, looking back at the camera, and snake one hand between your legs to spread your pussy open with your fingers. Joel moans unabashedly at the view, your glazed pussy glinting in the light, Frankie’s milky spend coating it and gathering at your opening. He watches as your cunt clenches at the sound.

“Fuuuuuck, darlin’, that little pussy always looks so fuckin’ good when it’s covered in cum, don’t it?” Joel asks rhetorically, running one hand down his chin through his greying scruff. You whimper in response, the movement of your contracting walls pushing a thin stream of Frankie’s cum out from deep in you, dripping onto the bed sheets. This feels so debauched, filthy, and you are incredibly turned on by Joel’s response to the sight of another man’s cum decorating your most intimate parts.

“God, if I was there I would be rubbin’ that cream all over your swollen little clit,” Joel drawls. “Can see her peekin’ out at me. Can you flip over? Wanna see you touch her for me.” You oblige, gathering the pillows to prop yourself up, and lean back against them as you butterfly your thighs open for your husband. Holding his gaze, you slowly trace your outer lips with your fingers, feeling the slide of Frankie’s spend lubricate your movements. You swirl your fingertips through the mess of slick and cum at your entrance, then glide them up to the pearl of your clit, throbbing in anticipation. At the first touch, your breath catches on the edge of a jagged little moan.

“So sensitive already?” Joel teases, and you see him shift in his seat at the same time that the rustle of his pants tells you he’s pulling them down. The thought of him needing to touch himself at the sight of your messy cunt makes a pang of need course through your core.

“Let me see it, baby,” you whisper hoarsely towards the phone, desperate to see the physical proof of his desire for you, for the sight of Frankie’s desire for you. The frame jostles a bit as Joel sets his phone up on the phone stand you have in your bedroom for times like these. It’s not the first time you have had video sex while apart and it certainly won’t be the last.

And as Joel walks backwards toward the bed again and into frame, you barely stifle a gasp.

His cock is an absolute marvel, still is after a decade of being together. Thick, long, and uncut, the sight of him always makes your mouth water and your pussy slick. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, stroking his length languidly, the gleaming cockhead a flushed pink, disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. His gray, worn sweatpants are pulled just under his ass. Heavy, sizable balls drape over the waistband. You’ll never get tired of the sight.

“See somethin’ y’like, angel?”’Joel teases, his Texas twang always thicker when he’s aroused. His thick thighs are spread wide as he sits on the bed.

“Yes… everything,” you breathe, starting to rub your pussy again.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tuts, and your fingers immediately stop. “I didn’t tell you that you could touch yourself. Let’s wait until Frankie can join us to have fun.” Your body flushes with more arousal; Joel’s never asked to include Frankie before. But then again, you’d never asked if he wanted to.

As if on cue, the bathroom door squeaks open and Frankie appears, freshly showered, dark curls dripping a bit onto his broad, golden shoulders. A white towel is wrapped around his narrow waist, and he takes a moment to assess what he’s walked into.

“Babygirl, are you getting started without me?” Frankie purrs as he strides towards you, then pauses when he realizes your phone is on the stand and positioned right at your dripping cunt.

“Hey, Frankie,” Joel’s voice floats warmly into the room. “I figured you’d want to watch our girl play with herself, so I made her wait.”

Our girl.

You shiver in arousal — and something else — at the moniker. Your eyes flick to Frankie, a smirk beginning to grace his lips but a bit of hesitation in his eyes. This was all new to him, too.

Frankie moves towards the armchair situated in the corner of the room, behind where you had your phone set up. He was already adjusting himself, clearly aroused, which you took as a good sign.

“Frankie, are you okay with this?” you inquire, trying to gauge his consent to what was unfolding. “If not, I can —“

“Yes,” Frankie grits out hoarsely. “I want to watch you with Joel.” His tone sets off another wave of pleasure through your nerves.

Joel chuckles, his voice smooth and deep as whiskey. “Well, darlin’, give us a show. Go on ‘n pet that pretty lil’ pussy for us.” Planting your heels on the bed, you use your fingers to spread yourself open as another trickle of Frankie’s previous release leaks its way out of you. Both men groan at the sight. Scooping it up, you glide your way up to your throbbing clit, starting to circle it just the way you like. A moan leaves your parted lips; you tilt your head back while you work yourself. Your other hand moves to pinch and thumb a nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.

“Mmm, good girl,” Joel praises you. His hand starts pumping his cock once again at the same time Frankie palms himself through the fluffy towel. Frankie’s eyes flick from you to the phone, still trying to feel out the dynamics of the three of you. But both men can’t keep their eyes away from your soft pussy and swollen clit, glazed in your arousal and Frankie’s cum. Holding both of them in rapture while seeking your own pleasure is a heady power trip that wraps its silken claws into your brain.

You feel like a goddess.

“Joel,” you moan, writhing in pleasure on the bed, but not quite where you want to be. “I need more.”

“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” Joel croons through the phone, the soft fapping sound of him working his cock audible.

“I want… more,” you whine, mind so hazy with pleasure that you can’t even articulate your desires. “Please.”

“Hmmm,” Joel responds, slowing down to consider his options. You look up in impatience just as a wicked smirk crosses his face.

That look always means trouble.

“Y’told me how good Frankie is at goin’ down on you,” Joel continues, “so why don’t you let him show me?” You hear Frankie’s breath choke in his throat in surprise as a whimper escapes your lips at Joel’s words. Frankie’s eyes dart from yours to the phone and back.

“Frankie?” you hear Joel say while your eyes remain on your boyfriend. “Would you be okay with that? Would you show me how hard you make our girl come with that tongue’a yours?” You let out a little moan at Joel’s filthy words, and Frankie groans involuntarily at the sight of another dribble of his cum escaping your pussy.

“Oh, baby, you’re still drippin’?” Joel coos at you. “Frankie must’a stuffed you so full’a his cum. Do you like eating yourself outta her sweet cunt, Frankie?”

In a flash, Frankie enters the frame as he spreads your legs further apart and wedges his shoulders between them, leaving enough space for Joel to watch the action behind him. “I fucking love it,” Frankie growls in response, immediately running his tongue in a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit, tasting himself and you as he swallows every drop of cum and slick you released. You throw your head back, keening.

“Damn,” you hear Joel choke out, his hand moving faster on his cock at the sight of Frankie diving headfirst into your cunt. Eager to prove his skills, Frankie works you up rapidly to your orgasm, your moans pitching higher and higher within a minute. He swirls his tongue over your clit, then slides two of his fingers inside to the last knuckle, aided by your copious slick and the remnants of his cum. Your back arches off the bed from the sensation as you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, angel,” Joel grits out, his breath coming faster. “He eatin’ you good?”

“Yessss, Joel,” you whimper, your hand holding Frankie’s head firmly to your center. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

Frankie moans encouragingly, reverberating across your cunt, and the tether inside your core snaps. You stutter out a groan, punctuated each time your pussy spasms with your release on Frankie’s fingers. The man between your thighs laps it all up, moaning in delight. He pulls back, kissing the inside of each thigh, and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel purrs at you as you catch your breath. You hear a slightly pained groan, and look at the screen to see Joel gripping the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. Hmm, that’s odd, you think. Joel usually comes when he’s decided he’s done making me come.

The realization hits you a split second before Joel’s deep, commanding voice spits out, “Again, Morales.”

Ohhhh, fuck.

You whip your head around when you hear Frankie suck in a breath as he stares at the phone, his chest heaving. Looking down, you see his cock achingly hard under his towel, his neck flushed with arousal. Frankie turns to you, his onyx eyes shimmering ferally. You know following orders gets him going, but you’re surprised that Joel clocked that about him instinctively.

In a split second, Frankie’s spread both of your legs again, pinning you open obscenely wide by your thighs. His tongue immediately begins to fuck into your pussy, the strong muscle prodding and curling just right. Your head slams into the soft mattress, a squeal leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue, you feel Frankie grinding desperately into the bed, trying to stem the intense arousal building below his waist.

“Talk to me, darlin’,” Joel’s voice floats in your ear, pulling you out of the cloud of intense pleasure momentarily. “Tell me how good Frankie feels.”

“He’s so good,” you moan, alternating playing with your nipples and curling your fingers in the bedding. “His tongue feels so good in my pussy.”

“Is he as good as me?” Joel asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s not a hint of jealousy, just charged curiosity.

“Yes, baby,” you coo, gasping as Frankie moves his tongue back to your clit and slides his fingers back into you, reaching that spot deep in you that makes your eyes roll back. “So good. Just… different.”

Joel lets out a quiet growl, his voice dripping with sex. “Good. Your pussy deserves the best.”

“Frankie,” Joel commands. Frankie lifts his head from your center, moving his thumb to replace his tongue on your clit, making your back arch again. “Have you made her squirt before?”

“Yeah,” Frankie breathes, looking back at you. “She’s so beautiful when she does it.”

“Good,” Joel rumbles. “Make her squirt for us.”

Frankie nods once, then pulls his fingers out slightly until he hits the spongy spot near the entrance of your pussy. He starts swirling the tips of his fingers against it, pressing his other hand down gently but firmly on your lower belly above your pubic bone, and then lowers his head to suck your clit back into his mouth. You keen, your body folding in on itself from the intense pleasure. Frankie moans into you, but you hear a growl rip from Joel’s throat.

“Don’t you dare hide that beautiful body,” Joel demands. “Lay back and spread your legs for us.”

You comply, barely able to shift yourself open again before Frankie starts intensifying his ministrations. You hear Joel’s slick fist jerking his cock again while he coos at you and praises you, telling you how good you’re being for him and Frankie, how pretty and strong you are.

“You can take it, angel,” Joel moans with the squelching of his cock in his hand acting as an obscene background track for your pleasure. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimper, your cunt making equally debauched sounds with every thrust of Frankie’s fingers. “I’m so close. Feels so fucking good.”

Frankie presses harder on your belly and sucks your clit more fervently, and your cries pitch higher. “Oh god, Frankie, you’re gonna make me come,” you whine, toes curling and thighs beginning to shake. A desperate moan from Frankie’s mouth is muffled by your cunt, making you cry out again.

“Let go for us, darlin’,” Joel grits out, his hand a blur on the screen as he approaches his orgasm as well.

Frankie peels himself away from your drenched folds just long enough to command, “Come for us, now,” and then latches back onto your clit, sucking hard, and that’s the moment you break, nearly screaming. Frankie works you through the first wave of your orgasm with his mouth, then pulls back, slipping his fingers out of you as your release gushes out, spraying your belly, thighs, and Frankie’s torso. With every pump and slide out of your pussy, Frankie brings forth another spray of release, drenching your body and his.

You’re barely aware of Joel’s groans of pleasure in the throes of your own, but when you come back down moments later, you can hear the edge of desperation in his sounds. You look over to the phone to see him with his teeth bared, the head of his cock an angry red, his fist slick with precum and spit. More pearly liquid slowly oozes from the slit at the top.

Joel is barely keeping it together.

“Joel, honey,” you moan, “I wanna see you come.”

Joel growls. “Francisco,” he grits out. Frankie, who’s looking at you in amazement and pride, snaps his head to the phone at the sound of his full name. You see his cock twitch under the towel.

“Get our girl messy, Francisco.”

A whimper worms its way out of your throat as Frankie whines. Unashamed and blind with arousal, he whips the towel off his waist and his cock bobs, hard and thick. You hear Joel’s breath hitch. I’ll tuck that reaction away for later, you think.

Frankie kneels between the damp sheets under your thighs, spitting into his hand and fisting his cock hard and fast. His muscles flex with the intensity of feeling, breathing rapid. His grunts get louder and longer as he swiftly approaches his peak. You hear a long, low moan from the phone, Joel nearly delirious with how worked up he is over the scene playing out.

“Where?” Frankie moans, desperately trying to follow orders before he blows his load. Precum drips onto the sheets.

“Her tits,” Joel pants, “and her pussy. Paint her like a fucking picture, Frankie.”

“Oh fffuuuu—“ Frankie grits out just before he explodes, his release shooting out onto your nipples, the curves of your breasts, and then he’s aiming lower, coating your mound and pussy lips with his seed.

You’re dripping with yourself and Frankie, an absolutely debauched sight.

Suddenly you hear a shout from the phone, and turn just in time to see Joel shoot his load all over his chest, belly, and even some on his neck with how hard he’s coming. Every spurt paired with a moan; one of the prettiest sights you’ve ever seen in your life.

For a moment all you hear is the shared heavy breathing of yourself, your boyfriend, and your husband, and then Frankie is kissing your forehead, your lips, and then working his way down your body. When he goes to lick off his cum from your tits to clean you up, you groan in protest.

“Too sensitive, baby,” you plead, and Frankie acquiesces, cooing at you.

“You did so well for us, nenita,” he soothes, stroking your face and planting kisses across your eyelids. “You’re so beautiful. Let me rinse off and get you cleaned up, okay?” With your mind pleasantly fuzzy from what just transpired, you simply nod, and Frankie goes into the bathroom for supplies. You let your head roll to the side, and smile tiredly at Joel, who’s watching you with pride and love while he towels off his release from his body and hands.

“I would have licked up all that cum off you to save you from having to add another towel to the laundry,” you giggle, feeling your own juices and Frankie’s cum cooling on your torso. You run your fingers through the slick release Frankie left on your pussy, teasing your clit with the silky fluid. Your body shudders a bit with overstimulation, and Joel shakes his head.

“You just like makin’ a mess and then cleanin’ it up, you dirty girl,” he chuckles, watching you enjoy the tactile sensations.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me like that, Joel,” you fire back with a smirk. “What is it you said exactly? Oh, right. ‘Get our girl messy, Francisco.’” You imitate Joel’s baritone, making him bark out a laugh.

“Fine, I do love seeing you drippin’, darlin’,” Joel admits. “Whether it’s my cum or Frankie’s.” You bite your lip and giggle, basking in the glow of this new era of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t expect he’d be so enthusiastic to see you with Frankie.

The door pops open, Frankie emerging with a warm, damp washcloth for you. Although you reach for it, he tuts and gently pushes your hand away, insisting on wiping you down himself. He gently strokes the cloth across your skin, softly smiling and pressing kisses to your face and body as he does. Joel’s heart warms at the sight before him, seeing how well Frankie takes care of you.

Tossing the cloth back into the bathroom, Frankie gets up from the bed. “I’m going to get some water for us. Do you want cold water to help you cool down, or your usual water cocktail?” Frankie asks, always remembering your quirky penchant for filling your insulated water bottle first with hot water until halfway, and the rest with cold.

“Water cocktail, please,” you giggle, snuggling further into the bedding.

Frankie grins, then lightly kisses your forehead, grabbing your water bottle off the bedside table in the process. He walks out, and you sigh contentedly.

“Wow, Frankie automatically includes Water Cocktail on his drink menu now, huh?” Joel chuckles.

You nod happily, grinning ear to ear. Laying your head on the pillow, you respond, “Yeah, he caught on fast. I think it was after the third week of seeing each other that he started asking if I wanted it instead of bringing me a glass of cold water. I didn’t even tell him explicitly, he just noticed me doing it.” You pause, brain pleasantly fuzzy in your post-orgasmic state.

“I… I really like him, Joel,” you whisper, slowly fading as sleep creeps to you. You blink your eyes gently at Joel, who looks at you with the softest smile on his face, like you are the linchpin of his universe.

“I know, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his heart flipping in response. “I know.”

When Frankie re-enters the room with a glass of water and your water bottle, he notices how quiet it is. You lay burrowed under the covers, gently snoring, but he notices your phone is the only one on the video call anymore. His nerves zap a bit in concern, but then he replays the recent events back in his head. Joel seemed totally tolerant - nay, enthusiastic, to include Frankie into sex earlier. He doubts Joel left because he was upset; you probably fell asleep and he needed to go. Nonetheless, Frankie pics up your phone and exits the call, tapping around until he finds your message app.

Hey, that was really fun, he types out to Joel, a tiny flutter of nerves alight in his stomach. Excited to meet you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your night. – Frankie

Staring at the words for a moment, he hits send before he can back out or second guess himself. Frankie then climbs into bed, wrapping himself around you before sleep claims him wholly.

a/n part 2: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your patience! I had so much fun writing it and I’m proud to be able to share it with you. For those of you not familiar with Southern/Central CA, you can view photo references here: the Santa Cruz carousel, Hearst Castle, info on Ojai, and kayaking in Morro Bay.

Have thoughts/thots, feelings, SCREAMS, asks? My inbox is open! 💌

Tag list: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @sin-djarin @nerdieforpedro @almostfoxglove

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Please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tag list!

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candycandy00 · 3 months ago

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EDIT: Here’s my progress! Crossed out titles have been written, formatted, and scheduled for posting!

So I finally got around to looking through the requests I got for my 3k followers event, which will be my Kinktober fics this year, and organize them all into a neat list with titles and descriptions. I’ve actually already started writing one of them. 😊

There ended up being 11 instead of 10, but the more the merrier! Here’s the list in case anyone is curious! As we get closer to October, I’ll make a better, proper post about them. But here’s what you guys can look forward to!

The Ruins - Ace x Reader [One Piece] Ace is exploring some ancient, vine-covered ruins looking for treasure. After falling and injuring his leg, you find him and tend to his wounds, intending to use him as a sacrifice. But before you can do so, he turns the tables on you, tying you up with the vines to teach you a lesson. Kinks: Bondage, Spanking, Creampies.

Run Sweetheart Run - Sukuna x Reader [JJK] You’re an innocent Omega who has to attend a business dinner with your boss’s client. He’s supposed to be a Beta, but when you arrive, you find Sukuna, the biggest, scariest, hottest Alpha you’ve ever seen. Turns out your boss has offered you up on a silver platter to sweeten the business deal, and you can’t resist the pull of Sukuna’s magnetism. Kinks: Dubcon, Forced Breeding, Knotting, Mating Marks.

Glorious - Togame x Reader [Wind Breaker] Professor Togame has been using a glory hole in the restroom of a bar near the campus to relieve stress, but the soft hands and warm mouth on the other side have captivated him completely. He’s totally unaware that they belong to you, his worst performing student who happens to have a huge crush on him. Kinks: Professor/ Student Power Dynamics, Glory Holes.

Night of the Demons - Dabi x Reader [My Hero Academia] You’ve been kidnapped and are being held for ransom by ruthless professionals. The problem is, they got the wrong girl! So no one is going to pay, and no one will save you. In desperation, you call out for help from whatever god or demon might be listening. Your plea is answered by Dabi, the Prince of Hell, who makes a deal with you. He’ll save you, but you’ll be his plaything from now on! Kinks: Master/Pet Power Dynamics, Improper Use of a Demon Tail.

The Hunger - Geto x Reader [JJK] Your boss is gorgeous, successful, and a total control freak. He micromanages everything you do in the office as well as the bedroom, but on the night of each new moon, when the sky is darkest, he gives the reigns to you, seeming to feel a hunger he can’t satisfy. Kinks: Spit, Overstimulation.

Fear - Suo x Reader [Wind Breaker] You meet a beautiful and polite man named Suo in the park and begin a relationship, not realizing he’s a powerful Kitsune who has already ensnared you and made you his! Kinks: Yandere Themes, Bondage, Dacryphilia, Mind Break, Knotting.

Night of the Demons 2 - Shigaraki x Reader [My Hero Academia] As a fun little prank on Halloween Night, you try to summon a demon, thinking there’s no way it will work. To your surprise, a demon named Shigaraki appears in your bedroom, and he wants to plant his seed in the human world. Kinks: Breeding.

Manhunter - Higuruma x Reader [JJK] *Currently Working On* You’ve teamed up with handsome prosecutor Higuruma to investigate a series of murders. You’re attracted to him, but he’s yet to make a move. When you start noticing some suspicious behavior from him, you do a little private side investigation into his background. Maybe he was waiting for someone to find him all along, and once you do, he’s ready to make his move. Kinks: Dubcon, Bondage, Edging.

Trick R’ Treat - Sanji x Reader [One Piece] You dress up as a sexy puppy girl for Halloween and go to a party with your boyfriend Sanji. You spend the night teasing him and whipping him up into a horny frenzy. But he’s totally in love, so even though you’ve “tricked” him all night, he only wants to give his cute puppy “treats”. Kinks: Pet Play, Exhibitionism, Breeding.

The Houses October Built - Umemiya x Reader [Wind Breaker] Your friends dare you to go through the local haunted house all by yourself on Halloween night. It’s scary at first, until you notice that the tall blue eyed ghost you keep running from is unbelievably hot. With horniness over powering your fear, you decide to flirt with him. To your delight, he flirts back. Kinks: Dumbification, Asphyxiation.

Grave Encounters - Gojo x Reader [JJK] You’re a YouTuber with a channel dedicated to horror stories and exploring haunted places. You get a tip about an abandoned house in the woods that no one dares to enter, so naturally you decide to make a video there! Once inside, you find yourself trapped with a hostile force that can take human form. A beautiful, terrifying human form. Kinks: Dacryphilia, Humiliation.

Why yes, I did title them all after horror movies! Thanks for noticing! If anyone would like to be tagged in these, let me know! You can ask to be tagged in specific fics or all of them or all from a particular fandom.

#x reader #ace x reader #sukuna x reader #togame x reader #suo x reader #umemiya x reader #sanji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #higuruma x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #kinktober

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kitasgloves · 7 months ago

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Hostage

tracklist

— ♬ "It's not like me to be so mean, you're all I wanted. Just let me hold you like a hostage"

— ♬ Edgar Allan Poe x Reader, SFW, gender-neutral reader, brief depictions of stalking, obsessive behavior, and kidnapping, Poe having separation issues, 3.5k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE NOR ROMANTISIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

Solitude is most favored among those who linger in their thoughts for hours. Stillness and silence are required to think and call forth one's imagination. However, prolonged solitude can affect one's spirit. Being isolated from society for too long can wear an individual down. Humans were created to mingle and tangle with others; it's their nature. No matter how long one can be content in solitude, the soul will always long for another.

Edgar Allan Poe longed to find someone who shared his preferences. His being ached for the relatability of another human. Growing up, Poe was accustomed to loneliness, which in turn, made him draw near to it. With his dark reveries of mysteries and murder, he figured that it would be a challenge to encounter someone with similar tastes. Poe spent the majority of his childhood writing stories of horror, he was undeniably attracted to the morbidity of the human mind.

Poe considered himself a passionate and emotional man. Though sometimes his writings can paint him as heartless, he reassures that he is not without a heart. When Poe felt, he felt deeply. In love, anger, or terror, he felt them all in an intensity that was unusual to others. Along the way, he managed to find companions he could express his interests and talent for writing. He felt his spirit satisfied with simple human interactions, but he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. His soul yearned for more than companionship.

Admittedly, romance wasn't Poe's forté. After all, how can romance mix with horror? It didn't make sense to him. Poe wasn't familiar with the methods of wooing someone nor the experiences of new romance. His heart will be yet to be stolen. However, he has read plenty of books circulating around romance to familiarize himself and paint a faint idea of what love is. Pride and Prejudice, A Room with a View, and the timeless Romeo and Juliet filled Poe's imagination with the different faces of love. Love grants hope, joy, and even sorrow. It was difficult to describe the definite meaning of love when he hadn't even experienced it yet.

For a long while, Poe was captivated by romantic novels until he got so pathetically hopeless that he returned back to writing his usual mysteries. He did make attempts at romantic writing through poems, but it was hard to write about romance when you don't have a lover as your inspiration. Sometimes, he will sit by his windowsill during downpours pondering if he will ever experience romance or will be forever achingly long for it.

As though heeding his wordless wishes, Poe has encountered you. It was around Spring when the flowers bloomed, and the sun smiled down upon them when he had met you. Poe, in a rare occurrence, decided to go do his writing outside of his stuffy room. He settled on a bench at the nearest park and began scribbling a draft in his notebook.

"Hello, would you mind if I sit beside you?"

When Poe looked up and met your eyes, he was speechless. A rare beauty graced him at this time of Spring. Your eyes bore the brightest colors as the sun caressed your skin. You held a book securely against your chest, and it was a novel that he held close to his heart. Poe blinked and gulped as he searched for the words to reply. However, he only ends up nodding his head instead.

You smiled and politely sat on the bench beside him, a respectable space was held in between you that made Poe wish he dared to remove. He turns back to his paper and finds himself out of focus, he has completely lost his train of thought for the next scene of his story. He sits there dumbfounded and unable to stop giving you lingering glances. You sat quietly reading your book with your legs crossed. Your features were filled with content as you delicately turned the page. Poe was transfixed by you.

Suddenly, you turned to your side to find him staring. Poe silently gasps as he reverts his eyes away and back to his notebook, pretending that he wasn't hypnotized by your aura earlier. You held back a smile as you observed the sheepish man. The brown curly hair that mostly covered his eyes, his layered clothing that didn't fit in with the season, and his elegant handwriting on his notebook caught your interest. Poe sweats as he thanks God, he didn't decide to bring his pet raccoon, Karl, with him for he knew he would only pester him to make a move.

"Are you a writer?"

You asked and pointed at his notebook. Poe stutters as he scrambles to find a proper response.

"I—I suppose so, but I'm not an established author...yet"

"Really? Oh, I like literature! What kind of genre are you writing?"

"Oh, just short stories and poems"

"About what? If you don't mind me asking"

"Ju—Just mysteries, murder, and horror..."

Poe found himself too afraid to look up as he covered his writing with the sleeve of his coat. He figured you wouldn't be interested but you've surprised him by inching closer. Your eyes beamed at him with fascination.

"That's so cool! Would you mind if I read a sample of your work?"

The writer panics as he flips through his notebook for the most impressive work he has written. Poe felt pressured as he wanted to amaze you with his talent. You found him flipping back and forth on his notebook, mumbling and deciding what to show you. The sight looks somehow adorable. Finally, Poe shyly hands you his thick notebook filled with his most precious and unpublished works. On the page, you notice his beautiful cursive writing of a poem entitled 'Nevermore'.

Poe was growing nervous with each passing second as your eyes read the poem silently. He thinks he's mistaken when he sees your eyes widen for a moment with astonishment. He kept tugging on the sleeves of his coat as he waited impatiently for your reaction. Eventually, you looked up to him with genuine amazement.

"This...this is beautiful"

"I—um...th—thank you, I haven't showed anybody that poem yet"

"Oh, what an honor! Your writing is very unique"

You complimented him with a smile. Poe's face felt unusually hot as he tore his eyes away in sheer bashfulness. You handed his notebook back and he felt a foreign spark course through him the moment your fingers touched his. He had never met someone before who immediately took an interest in his writing, most of the people he knew barely paid attention to his works or simply made fun of them. Poe is suddenly encouraged to know you.

"... Do you write too?"

"Oh no, I could never. I'm more of a reader"

You admitted with a flustered smile. Poe can feel the corners of his lips curling up as he slowly inches closer to you.

"My name is Poe, Edgar Allan Poe, by the way"

"Nice to meet you, Poe. I'm [Surname] [Name]"

When you held out your hand for him to shake, Poe instantly reached out for your hand and melted by the warmth of your palm even if it was merely a quick second. Ever since that Spring Day, Poe felt himself falling for you. He would begin meeting with you frequently at the park by the same bench. He spent the remainder of Spring getting to know you. Both you and Poe shared your favorite books. You would tell him exciting stories about your childhood, and he would dedicate romantic poems to you. He was beyond ecstatic now that he had the inspiration to write love poems. By the end of Spring, Poe has gifted you a bouquet of red roses and professed his love for you.

The beginning of Summer was promising. Poe has invited you over to his home and introduced you to his lovely raccoon Karl whom you spoiled endlessly. The blooming romance between you and the writer was prevalent through expensive dates. Poe has learned how to effectively shower you with gifts and affection, and you all returned them with your love-filled offerings. Poe continued to dedicate poems to you. By the end of Summer, Poe and you became lovers.

The opening of Autumn was exciting, it was Poe's favorite season because of the weather and Halloween festivities. The writer was thrilled to spend the rest of Fall with you either reading ghost stories or cuddling during the chilling weather. Poe was eager as he made precise plans. You occupied each waking hour of his mind.

Lately, you have been busy with personal affairs and Poe had to cope with being alone while you were unable to be there to shower him with your affection. He tried writing more poems about you or working on his new mystery novel, but he seemed distracted. He made attempts to find a new hobby, but it was futile. He felt restless when you weren't by his side.

A week has passed, and the writer grew anxious. You were spending less and less time with him and he got worried that his first romance would end tragically. Poe tried to do countermeasures to ensure your relationship with him wouldn't end. He would keep a cautious eye on you, making sure you went home safe and that you didn't have any nightmares when you slept. When the morning arrived, he would sneak out of your room without your knowledge. Poe followed you to your workplace to admire you and he avoided staying for too long to avoid gaining suspicion. You went to different places frequently and it was tiresome to follow you around that he eventually gave up.

When Poe felt desperate, he would send Karl to follow you instead. Fall was halfway over, and Poe was growing worried that you were slowly falling out of love with him. His heart couldn't bear the idea of experiencing the heartache he read about in novels. Albeit you would visit him sometimes and did your duty as a lover, Poe didn't feel reassured. He tried to calm himself by reading or listening to music, but the discomfort only grew worse.

Poe wants to be alone, alone with you does that make sense? He wants to steal your soul and hide you in his treasure chest. He doesn't know what to do, to do with your kiss on his neck. He doesn't know what feels true. But this feels right so stay a sec. Yeah, you feel right so stay a sec. And let him crawl inside your veins. He'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain. It's not like him to be so mean, you're all he wanted. Just let him hold you like a hostage.

Autumn was approaching its end with the beginning of the Halloween festivities. You were noticing weird changes in your boyfriend. Poe seemed antsy lately. He's been aggressively writing in his notebook and grumbling curses that Karl was too afraid to approach him. His appearance has been unkept whenever you visit him, including his place, there is scattered paper everywhere and you're left to question his mental stability. You try to make up for lost time with him but he's beginning to push you away that it was uncharacteristic. Poe was behaving unlike himself and it intrigued you.

You were aware that Halloween was Poe's favorite so made cute plans to watch a new horror movie or cuddle with a mystery book as a date. You felt bad for not being consistent with communication with him. When you approached him with your plans for Halloween, he seemed dismissive or angry that it annoyed you. However, you tried to calm your nerves to avoid saying what you might regret later.

"Look, if you don't want to do any of that, I'm open to do whatever you want, Ed"

Poe looks up from his desk, his eyes seem like he is glaring at you through his bangs and it makes you momentarily shudder. He sets his pen down and shuts his notebook. He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. His tall stature almost swallows you as he leans down to meet you in the eye.

"How about we go to that Halloween party your friend was throwing this weekend"

Your eyes went wide as you raised a brow at your boyfriend. Poe's white button-up was wrinkled with a few buttons undone, exposing his pale collarbone. His hair was all over the place, and it seemed like he was lacking sleep.

"But you hate parties!"

"I do, unless I'm with you"

For a moment, Poe's usual sweet demeanor returns on his features as he gently reaches for your hand and kisses it. You melted. Poe sighs as he corners you on his desk he leans down you kisses you. The kiss felt...odd. It was passionate but it's fueled with frustration. His hands start to roam your body as he plunges his tongue into your mouth with no warning. You moan in surprise as he French kissed you. He pulls away to trail kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Breathlessly, you shoved him away. Shocked and disturbed by his unusual actions.

Poe doesn't say a word while he stares at you before he turns away and leaves you alone. You stood there catching your breath and trying to comprehend what the hell was going on with your boyfriend. Karl crawls out from under the couch to rub himself against your leg. Your face relaxed as you picked up the raccoon.

"What's going on with him?"

Karl answers you with a timid squeak. The raccoon stared at you as if he was warning you of impending doom, but you shook your head and laughed it off. You carried Karl in your arms as you searched the kitchen for a snack.

You and Poe barely said a word but agreed to get dressed for the Halloween Party. You two silently decided to have matching costumes. The journey to the party was awkward since you two barely exchanged a word. The party was lively as drinks and people were flooding all over the place. Your friend goes to briefly greet you and your boyfriend. You ended up not enjoying the party because of how things were tense between you and Poe, he hardly glanced at you, and it gave the impression that he was upset.

Karl jumped off Poe's shoulder as he went to scurry god knows where. You took in a large breath and touched the writer's arm. He turns to you with a blank expression.

"Can we talk?"

You and Poe ended up leaving the party. Both of you were outside surrounded by the cold autumn air. You try to inquire about Poe's mood and the reason for his avoidance. Poe gazes at you as if stuck in a trance, he realizes how upset he has made you and it makes him look down embarrassingly at his shoes.

"... I'm sorry, [Name]"

The apology sounded timid but sincere and you can't help but sigh and walk over to your boyfriend. You give him a warm embrace that he returns gratefully. You smile up at him.

"Let's go home and watch a movie, yeah?"

A smile finally graces Poe's lips as he takes your hand before walking back to his place. You two didn't remove your costumes as you entered the door. You're convinced that all is well now that your boyfriend is smiling at you.

Poe couldn't describe the ecstatic feeling rising in him. You appeared so eager to be alone with him that it merely drove him delirious. He felt like he was going mad with fever after experiencing days without you. He spent his time scheming ways to make you stay with him for good to prevent tragedy. Taking you with him back to his home alone was the first step.

Gold on your fingertips, fingertips across his cheek. Gold leaf across your lips, kiss him until he can't speak. Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let him wear at home. Gold's fake and real love hurts. And nothing hurts when he's alone. When you're with him and you're both alone.

You were settled comfortably on the couch ready to watch the movie when Poe entered with a book in his hand. This arouses your curiosity as he goes to sit beside you. There was an excited grin on his lips as he offered you the book.

"I just finished my latest mystery novel, would you like to be the first to read, my dear?"

The writer watches your eyes sparkle with delight with a gasp as you excitedly take the book from his hand. You admired the fancy and intricate design of the hardbound book before turning to your boyfriend.

"Oh my god, I would love to! Thank you, baby"

Poe observes you as you softly opened the book, prepared to read the first lines of his novel, but you were engulfed with a bright light that blinded you. A startled gasp leaves your lips as your body disintegrated into particles before entering the light emitting from the book. There was silence as the book shuts abruptly, completely trapping you inside of it.

When you fluttered your eyes open, you found yourself in a windowless and doorless room. When you rose from the floor and tried to walk, you discovered that one of your ankles was chained. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized you were chained to a heavy metal ball. You frantically looked around and tried to find something that would help you break free. However, the room was empty, and it heavily resembled a prison cell. Your lip begins to wobble as panic strikes your heart.

What just happened? From what you recall, you were sitting in the living room when Poe handed you the book for his new mystery novel. You furrowed your eyebrows in thought. You huddled against the wall and tried to keep yourself from crying. All of a sudden, a figure spawns in front of you. Relief floods your heart when you realize that it is your boyfriend.

"Ed!"

You rushed to him but were stopped by the ball and chain, you hissed in pain. Poe hid his hands behind his back as he stood and looked at you calmly. You were convinced that he was going to save you from this weird prison until a twisted smile rose on his lips.

"You look more beautiful than what I have initially imagined"

Poe said. Puzzled, you tilted your head at him. He walks closer and kneels down to your crouched figure. The dark look on his face sent a dreadful shudder down your spine. Your lip starts to wobble.

"Wh—What the happening?"

He chuckles and goes to pet your hair, but you flinched away. Poe hides the pinch in his chest with a smirk.

"I can finally have you all to myself"

"...What? Ed, what the fuck did you just do?"

A menacing laugh erupts from Poe's chest as you gaze at him with pure horror.

"I have successfully trapped you in my mystery novel"

"What?! No, you're kidding. Please, tell me you're joking..."

"Oh no, you will be forever stuck in this novel unless you solve the mystery..."

Poe leans down and gives you a condensing smile that made your blood run hot.

"...That I highly doubt because this mystery is impossible to solve, and you are by no means a talented detective"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

You feel hot tears well up in your eyes as you glared up at him. His smile dissolves as he stares at you eerily and you quiver back against the wall. Poe wants you to let him crawl inside your veins. He has already built you a wall and given you a ball and chain.

"It's not like me to be so mean, you're all I wanted. Just let me hold you like a hostage"

Poe stares at you breathlessly. You couldn't believe what you just heard. You prayed that this was only a sick joke or a nightmare that you were waking up you're going to wake up from. But every second you waited, your unfortunate fate became clear to you. Poe leans forward to embrace you, he can feel you shaking in his arms as he hears the silent sobs breaking out of your lips. Nonetheless, he buries his face against your neck.

You'll never leave him, as long as you're trapped inside of his book, his romance with you will never end. Poe has lost sleep creating the most complicated mystery novel his twisted mind can create; he knows you can never be free because the mystery is impossible to solve. This truly felt a happy ending for Poe's life, there are no tragedies or heartbreak. For he will eternally hold you in his arms, and as his hostage.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs poe #bsd poe #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe bsd #bsd poe x reader #poe x reader #edgar allan poe x reader #Spotify

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tama-journey-to-inspiration · 6 months ago

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lmaooooooooo CM is really boarding the struggle bus! I could practically hear his heart attack at the word /love/. Your TB has a crush on SWK au is captivating. Maybe that drunken argument could lead to CM becoming TB's beta reader? *why not both gif*

Hear me out: a crossover between this au and Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. CM reads Journey To The West to prove TB wrong and becomes TB's beta reader anyway. He wants to hang out with TB, but he's still a SWK hater, tangcheong write themselves into being small time demons gunning for SWK, etc.

tangcheong write that fanfic for so long that they get really good at it (maybe TB decides to rewrite the beginning parts that he's unhappy with the quality of at some point or readers get to see the style shift). The fanfic is so good and so long that it gets a huge fanbase and enters the cultural consciousness of the gangho* and gets tied to their mythos just like their accomplishments as the Dark Saint, Plum Blossom Sword Saint, and Divine Dragon.

tangcheong have enough stories that they come back and ascend as constellations when the scenarios start. But the thing is, all versions of stories and characters become true if someone or something gets popular to become a constellation. So now TB and CM actually are a part of Sun Wukong 's stories, and actually have to fight him in some scenarios.

So CM isn't jealous because of TB's character crush anymore. He's jealous because TB's got a celebrity crush on what is basically their coworker, who he can't even beat in a 1v1 fight. At least CM can marry TB if he didn't before and CM's loved ones from both of his lives can hang out together...in a torment nexus gauntlet. Yay? Well, I believe in their chances of survival.

*I think that gangho is the murim equivalent of the jianghu but my bad if I got it wrong 😔

Well I have to say is a pretty nice concept you have there. I'm so glad to see people taking a silly concept and develop something from it! 🥰

However, I'm not familiar with ORV, and it's lore to provide and insight, and sadly my interest died when I realized how profound is that rabbit hole when it's story wasn't my cup of tea to begin with. However! I am interested in whatever you have to say about it! (specially when it comes to Bo simping over Wukong!!!)

That being said @chuliann (who happens to know about orv better than I do) is the person I've been talking with about the silly Sun/Tang/Chung drama. And they think you're a genius! And they wanted me to tell you that!

We would love to hear more about it, if you come up with new ideas♥️

All I can provide is a bit more info about Sun wukong, since I'm currently reading journey to the west, and being watching some adaptations recently:

Sun Wukong is, to some degree, like a child despite his high intelligence, he gets excited and jump out of joy, he's very impulsive and confrontative. He's like a more friendly version of Chung Myung (with a friendly approach). He likes being recognized. He gets excited when being assigned task like taking care of the stables or watch over the peaches, but takes great offense when he's diminished. As well, he was very enthusiastic about serving Tang Sanzang in his journey until he reprimanded wukong for attacking some bandids.

Wukong can be genuinely adorable, but also frightening. Of course. Hes not naturally mean spirited with people. So, belive me, if Tang Bo approach Wukong and tries to befriend him being honest, he'll be just like Tang Bō.

A passage I really like is wukong asking for a needle after his first bath to properly sew a piece of leather he previously got. Stealing a piece of cloth from Tang sanzang that he forgot to put back on, and then going back to him and walked all around asking if he looks good now.

Adorable!

#rotbb #rotmhs #chung myung #tang bo #Sun Wukong #Journey to the west #tangchung

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gurugirl · 8 months ago

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Hey Guru, I haven’t been on Tumblr in months. I’m subscribed to ur patreon so i’m always reading your work there which i love. But as I’ve been reading different book genres, a question came to mind.

Have you ever thought about publishing your own book? Every storyline, genre, trope, etc you tap into I absolutely love and I think it’s genuinely just your writing. It’s addictive and captivating. You’re truly talented beyond measure and I think so many people would enjoy reading a book from you. I would love to have novels written by you on my bookshelves.

Hi hon! Thank you so much for the support over on patreon 🥰 And also your kind words just make me smile so big 💕

So, I actually have tried going through the whole process to publish a book years ago. And while I did have some great feedback from beta readers (all of them - it took a lot of drafts and edits and time and new beta readers) it never got picked up for traditional publishing. I’m not sure I’d ever want to go through that arduous and time consuming process ever again. It was .. a lot.

I think nowadays my writing style is a bit different than it was back (better or worse -I’m not certain) and potentially I could consider self-publishing which is so much easier, cheaper, faster but we’ll see!

If I ever do I’ll let you know 🤭

Seriously, thank you for this nice ask. Made me really happy to this.

Xoxo

#ask

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bitchface24-7 · 5 months ago

Text

FORGIVE ME FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring and you were so scared you were going to lose it.

You were the perfect daughter. Until your church introduced two young, handsome priests. Father Viktor and Father Jayce.

warnings: religion (I'm roman catholic pls leave me alone with my dirty fantasies) power imbalance, age difference (reader is 19, J + V are early 30s), corruption kink, innocence kink (girly they go feral when they see the purity ring necklace), loss of virginity, voice kink, hand kink, inappropriate thoughts, mentions of masturbation, confessional, dirty talk, pussyjob, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, risky sex, squirting, semi-public sex (you're at the church but it’s not busy.) two smut scenes (VxR and JxR, the end suggests a threesome), J + V got big dicks, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f (m/m/f suggested at the end)

p.s. I know I don't want to seem like a horny degenerate but this was too good to pass up! If anyone wants fluff, angst, etc. shoot me a request and I'll write it as soon as I can!

PART 2

You've always been a good girl. You got amazing grades in school, participated in extra-curricular activities, you volunteered at the local food bank. You were everyone's dream daughter or potential daughter-in-law. You even wore a purity ring on a chain around your neck every day. You were allowed to do this since you were a nervous wreck when your parents first gifted you the ring; you were terrified you were going to lose it.

You wear modest clothes every day. A mixture of pants, long skirts (no shorter than just below the knee), button-ups, cardigans, sweaters, long-sleeve shirts, dresses, and the odd high-neck t-shirt. You have to have at least one option when the weather gets hot.

Luckily for you, you weren't picked on in school. But at the same time, you didn't have many friends. People liked you because you’re kind and helpful, but they didn't want to become friends because of how modest and prude you were. They were nervous you’d rat them out if they did something “immoral.”

Life went on as normal. The same old same old. You graduated top of your class two years ago, you just recently got a certificate to be a librarian in a little over a month of work, and you got a modest job at your local library due to glowing references, and the older ladies at the library love you. It's your home away from home.

And you still go to church every Sunday. This Sunday was different though. You knew from the service that was held two weeks ago that Father Paul was going to retire. He had gotten too old to do the necessary duties of a priest, and that he was going to find his replacement before he left.

And it looks like he did.

If you have anything to say about the two, young, handsome men standing behind the altar. Wearing the traditional black uniform and white collar.

You feel like your heart is in your throat as Father Paul introduces the two new priests to the congregation. The two men are… very handsome.

Father Paul gestures to one of the men. He's tall, with long hair, beautiful bone structure, and the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. He's holding a cane in one of his hands. Father Paul says his name is Father Viktor.

The elderly man then gestures on the other side of himself to the other man standing there. He's even taller than Father Viktor, bulkier too. His shoulders are broad, his hair is messy, and he has a beard. Father Paul introduces him as Father Jayce.

You subconsciously clench your thighs together as an unknown heat travels down your stomach and into your private bits.

Oh no, you can't help but think to yourself. This isn't going to end well.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Church on Sundays became very popular. Like… ridiculously popular. You saw people at church that you haven't seen since you graduated high school two years ago.

Father Viktor is leading the sermon. His voice was loud, clear, and captivating. His accent made every word sound like it was dripping honey. Before you know it, its time to take the holy communion and the blood of Christ. You rise up from kneeling on the pew and brush imaginary dust off your simple black skirt. You adjust your small black cardigan, and nervously look down at your white button up. Everytime you've ever worn white, you somehow dirty it and it always ruins your mood.

When it's your turn to reach the end of the pew, you curtsey and do the sign of the cross. Your skirt lightly touches the ground. As you follow in line to receive the body of Christ, you silently pray you don’t fall. Before you know it, it’s your turn; and you’re face to face with Father Viktor.

He holds up a small circular piece of bread and calmly states, “The Body of Christ.” You kneel and say, “Amen.” After that, you open your mouth and lightly stick your tongue out. Father Viktor’s hand goes under your chin as he raises your head, and he lightly places the Eucharist onto your tongue. You close your mouth and Father Viktor’s eyes darken as he swallows lightly.

You stand up and after a few steps, you stand in front of Father Jayce for the blood of Christ. The two priests share a look and it’s almost as if they sighed in relief. Only adults can obtain the blood of Christ.

Father Jayce holds up an ornate chalice, “The Blood of Christ.” You smile and repeat, “Amen.” Father Jayce then brings the chalice to your lips and you take a small swig of the wine. You then walk away doing the sign of the cross as you return to your pew.

Your undies are wet and you don’t know why.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been weeks and you feel like you’re going insane. Every moment of every day, Father Viktor and Father Jayce are on your mind. They even plague your dreams.

Your undies get wet, your breathing gets heavy, and your body heats up. You’ve started touching yourself to the thought of them.

It feels so good.

It feels so wrong.

You need to speak to someone about this, but how can you? Your parents will have a meltdown, and you don’t have any friends. You sit in your room stumped before an idea comes to mind. Confessional.

You quickly get dressed into a neutral plaid skirt that just brushes your knees with black pantyhose, a plain black top, and your black loafers. You make sure your purity ring necklace is centred and protected under your shirt before exiting your house. You get into your car and drive to the church.

It’s not too late, just past dinner time. No one will be at the church, except for you and one of the Fathers.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars for the church workers. You park and exit the car, quickly making your way inside.

You appreciate the beauty of the church before finding an empty confessional and ringing a small bell, letting the priests know that someone was waiting for them.

After a few minutes of silence, the other end of the confessional opens up and a priest steps in. It’s hard to tell which priest it is. The lighting is too dark to see.

“Peace be with you.” The priest states. Damn. You can’t even tell which one it is due to their voice, the confessional muffles it too much.

You lightly sigh, “And also with your spirit. It’s been a month since my last confession, Father.”

“And what do you need to confess for?”

Your lips press together as you try to find a way to say this without sounding bad. You can’t. So you decide to be blunt.

“I’ve had lust in my heart, Father. For two men I cannot have. They’re constantly on my mind throughout the day, and plague my dreams when I sleep. I—“

You hesitate to say the next part. You can feel your face heat up as you stutter the next sin, “I touch myself… to— to the thought of them, Father.”

The other side of the confessional is quiet and you feel like crying. Eventually, the priest responds with, “And who are these two men? Are they someone you shall not covet? Such as someone who is married? Someone you’re related to?”

You gulp.

“Someone who is devoted to only one, and that one is God.”

The confessional becomes quiet at that. Before you know it, the door to your side of the confessional is opened. You gasp at the sight of a disheveled Father Viktor. His hair is messy, falling out of the small bun at the back of his head. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge. There’s a small snarl on his face.

“Is this some kind of joke? Do you wish to tempt me to defile you?”

Your eyes widen, “No Father! I speak the truth. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry for my thoughts and desires!”

Father Viktor enters your side of the confessional booth and closes the door behind him. The booth is just big enough to do small adjustments in; but you’re chest to chest with the beautiful priest.

“Say no, and we can pretend this never happened. You can go home and nothing will have changed.”

You nervously bite your lower lip and Father Viktor growls at that, “And… if I say yes?”

Father Viktor crowds you, until you have no room to move and whispers in your ear, “Then you shall become mine.”

A whimper escapes your lips and that’s all the answer Father Viktor needs. He turns your head and kisses you, it’s passionate, it’s frenzied. It’s a little messy.

It’s perfect.

You pant against his mouth as he touches your skirt, “May I?” You nod vigorously and he hikes the skirt up to your waist, ordering you to hold it there with one hand. You can’t help but comply.

Viktor groans when he sees you’re wearing pantyhose. He grabs the seem at your crotch and rips it, causing a gasp to escape your throat. Your undies get even more wet. A diligent finger taps lightly on the soaked fabric, so soaked you might as well not even be wearing it. The thin, white cotton has gone damn near translucent due to your arousal.

The gusset of your undies is pushed to the side as the handsome priest touches you in places you’ve only started to recently touch yourself.

He rubs your clit until it’s pulsing needily. He drags a finger down and teases your entrance, Father Viktor brings his face close to yours; so that as he speaks his lips brush against your own.

“Can I—”

Before he can even finish his sentence, you whine out a small yes.

Father Viktor chuckles and puts his middle finger into your pussy. It's so much longer and thicker than your own. It's reaching places you didn't even know existed.

“You need to learn patience, darling. What if I wanted to shove my cock into you instead, hmm? I'm not sure you can even handle two of my fingers.”

A whiny moan is what he gets in return to his scolding, “I can take two fingers. You heard me in confessional, I've been touching myself constantly now.”

Father Viktor growls at that and starts to finger your pussy faster, a schlick sound is heard throughout the confessional. Eventually, he adds a second finger and rubs your clit with his thumb. You’re gonna cum. You're gonna cum on the hand and fingers of one of the most handsome men you've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Every time you go to church and obtain the body of Christ you'll remember how fucking good those fingers felt inside you.

At your dirty thoughts, you cum. Trying to muffle your squeal into the palm of your hand not holding up your skirt. Father Viktor fingers you through your orgasm, and licks his fingers clean when he's done.

You feel a large bulge on your hip, “Do you want any help with that?”

Father Viktor chuckles, “You can't handle too much more, but there is one thing you can do.” he calmly states as he undoes his belt and lightly pulls down his pants and boxers; showing off an impressive dick.

Ok, no wonder he said you can't do much. His dick is massive and you're in a cramped confessional. Not much wiggle room.

Father Viktor slaps his cock against your clit and you gasp, “I'll just rut into your pussy until I cum. Is that okay with you?”

You bite your lip trying and failing to hide your smile, “Mmhm.”

He smiles and slowly starts to rock his dick into your folds. The head of his cock brushes against your clit in such a delicious manner, you won’t be surprised if you cum again.

“Hmm, what’s this?” Father Viktor asks as he notices the chain hidden beneath your shirt. The hand he used to finger you comes up and softly takes hold of the chain, pulling it out of your top to lay outside for once.

His eyes widen and his hips stutter once he realizes what he's looking at, “Is that a purity ring?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Yes?” your tone questioning as it raises in pitch.

The older man groans in an almost feral way before resuming his rutting, going much faster and harder than he was before, “You’re a filthy fucking virgin. Letting a man over a decade older than you rut into your pussy like a common whore.”

You're feeling too much of everything right now. Everything comes to a standstill when the tip of Father Viktors cock catches on the entrance of your pussy. Father Viktor brings a hand down to rub vigorously at your clit and you yelp as you cum for a second time. This time a little dribble of arousal escapes you.

Father Viktor groans as he cums inside you, it’s so warm, and there's so much of it.

You both pant and Father Viktor gives you a final kiss before you both have to clean up to go, this one is much sweeter.

You readjust your underwear and cringe at the cold, wet sensation, you drop your skirt and you ironically thank god that your skirt is long enough that no one else can see the damaged pantyhose.

Viktor redoes his belt and fixes his hair. He exits the confessional and offers out a hand to you, you take it gladly.

You notice his cane is leaning against the outside of the confessional and gasp in worry, “Father, are you okay? I forgot you used a cane. Are you in any pain?”

Father Viktor just smiles at you, “The confessional booth was small enough that I didn't have to worry about moving too much or falling. But thank you for the concern. Also, after what we just did, you can call me Viktor.”

Father— Viktor’s smile turns into a smirk, “Drive safe darling. This Sundays mass shall be quite interesting, don’t you think?”

You giggle as you make your way to the door.

Your footsteps stop when you hear Viktor call out your name, “Shall I tell Father Jayce your confession, or will you do it yourself?”

You coyly look back over your shoulder as you open the churches doors, “You can tell him. I'm curious to see what his reaction will be.”

The last thing you hear before the church doors close is Viktor’s chuckles.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next Sunday mass you go to, you feel as if you have eyes on you the entire few hours you’re there. Every time you look up from your prayer, your singing, your kneeling on the pew, you see Viktor and Father Jayce looking at you.

They’re being subtle. They have to be. If they get caught staring lecherously at a young woman who's over a decade their junior, they'll be the town paraiah.

Everything goes smoothly until the end of mass. When everyone is leaving, Father Jayce lightly calls your name. “Are you able to stay behind? Father Viktor has had a flare-up of pain and I require a second set of hands to clean up the altar and the pews.”

You lightly chew on the inside of your cheek and shuffle on your feet. You think on it for a few seconds before shyly nodding your head. Father Jayce smiles, he has dimples; and his crows feet deepen the slightest bit. He has a small gap between his two front teeth.

Not only is Father Jayce handsome, he's... Cute.

The two of you break apart, going pew to pew, row to row, cleaning up as you go.

You raise the kneelers, place the bibles back on their shelf, pick up little pieces of garbage and bring them to the garbage bin near the front doors of the church.

“Are you done? I need some assistance cleaning up the altar.”

You turn around and hum, slowly walking to the back of the church, going up the few steps to the altar where Father Jayce is waiting for you.

The altar honestly isn't too messy. You just need put away the candles, the candle holders, the wine, the bread, and the lectionary. The massive book the priest reads from during mass.

Before you know it, the altar is cleaned, except for the wine.

“How did you think of mass today?” Father Jayce asks, as he fondles his rosary. You lightly gulp, “It was good. I enjoyed it.”

Father Jayce hums, “I’m glad. You're a very… good person.”

You feel your brows furrow in subconscious confusion, “Thank… you?”

The handsome man purses his lips as he saunters towards you, wrapping his hand around the wine pitcher and dragging it alongside him on top of the altar, “But you're not purely good, are you? No. You sin. Your perfected image is so ingrained into this towns mind that they can't imagine you in any other way.”

Your breath hitches as you lean back onto the altar, trying to put some distance between you two. Father Jayce crowds you against the altar, he's much bigger than you. It’s startling.

It’s arousing.

“You know, Father Viktor told me all about the the little rendezvous you two had. I thought he was joking, maybe he had a dirty dream. Because there’s no way such an innocent, good girl did that within the church. Within a confessional.”

You bite your lip and look down, Father Jayce tilts your head back up with a single finger under your chin. He brings the wine pitcher up to his mouth and takes a large swig.

“But I know he was telling the truth.”

“How?”

“The way you look at us is how the Devil tries to tempt the innocent, and Father Viktor and I are not.”

You gasp when Father Jayce brings the pitcher to your mouth and taps your bottom lip a few times. The glass is cold, and the wine is sweet.

But it’s not as sweet as the way Father Jayce’s eyes darken as you take a gulp of wine.

The pitcher is slammed onto the altar and Father Jayce gives you a passionate kiss. You sigh and lightly open your mouth, and Father Jayce’s tongue caresses your own.

Your arms wrap around him, your hands carding into the hair at the base of his neck. He growls and grips your waist, hiking you up onto the altar.

A gasp escapes your lips, he's so strong. Father Jayce parts your legs at your knees, your dress riding up to an almost obscene level.

His hands drag up your thighs to your hips under your dress, his fingers curling into the sides of your underwear.

“May I?”

“Yes. Please.”

With that, Father Jayce pulls down your underwear, unhooking it from your feet and putting them into his black slacks. He drops down to his knees and you grab his hair in shock.

No way. He's not going to— is he…?

Yes he is, he brings his face close to your core and licks from your entrance to your clit. You jolt, gripping his hair harder as you moan out in pleasure.

He groans and the vibrations make you want to cry. He starts to focus all his attention onto your clit, as he slowly fingers you. The double combo is dangerous. Your pussy is drenched, your face is hot, and your back is curling. Your thighs clutch around Father Jayce’s head and he goes even harder.

Your vision whites out and you cum. Hard. Father Jayce kitten licks you through your orgasm and eventually you shove his head lightly away due to the oversensitivity.

Father Jayce stands up and kisses you, his lips and beard are lightly damp. You feel embarrassed and aroused at that knowledge.

“Take it off.” Father Jayce orders, gesturing to your sage green dress. You gulp, and slowly raise the hem over your head. Your flats have fallen off your feet during your pussy getting ate.

Now you're sitting on the church's altar, only in your basic white cotton bra. Father Jayce is still fully clothed. “All of it.” he demands.

You bring your hands behind you to your back and unhook your bra, your breasts now free for Father Jayce to appreciate.

He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his slacks and lowers it just enough to free his cock. His cock is also massive.

Jesus Christ, your priests are hung.

Father Jayce lines up his cock to your entrance and slowly pushes in, you moan, your voice cracking at the immense feeling of pleasure. He’s stretching you so much, you’re so full. There’s a minuscule pinch but Father Jayce prepped you so well, there’s barely any pain.

Your parents made it sound like you’d die.

Father Jayce groans deep in his chest when he sees a few speckles of blood on his cock, your arousal making his entire dick shimmer in the lowlight of the church.

“Such a dirty girl. Getting fucked in public by a man who’s over a decade older than her, and giving her virginity to him. You’re a goddamn gem.”

You moan at his words, god you’re fucking soaked. His cock keeps hitting your g-spot, and you can’t help but lay back against the altar. Your tits jiggle as Father Jayce fucks you. He slowly starts to go harder and harder. Fucking you to the point where your skin slaps together.

The altar is shaking, you're moaning, and then Father Jayce grips your hair and turns you over. You plop your hands onto the altar as Father Jayce pulls your head back.

If someone were to enter the church now, they'd see Father Jayce fucking the shit out of a woman as her tits bounce and she moans out in pure pleasure.

Your purity ring necklace bounces with each thrust.

“Fuck. Father! You feel so— so fucking good!”

He chuckles, “I’m balls deep in you right now, sweetheart. You can call me Jayce.”

“Jayce! Fuck!”

Without you noticing, Jayce unhooks your purity ring necklace and it bounces down on to the altar, the metal making a small tinkling sound.

“W— what?”

“You don't need that anymore, sweetheart. You’re mine now, and Viktors.”

With that declaration, you shove your hand in between your thighs and viciously rub your clit. One circle, two, and then you're cumming again, and this time a gush of arousal escapes your pussy.

Jayce moans and pounds into you, before going as deep as he can as he cums inside you. You can feel each pulse of his cock as he dumps his cum into you.

You sigh at the feeling, fuck it feels so good.

Jayce sighs and drops his head down onto your shoulder, he sucks a few hickeys into your neck as he pulls out. You feel some of his cum drip down your thighs.

You pant as Jayce fixes himself and then helps you get re-dressed. You two look somewhat presentable when a very familiar accented voice echoes out into the church.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No, V. You're right on time.”

“It was a good show.”

You freeze, “Wait… you could see us?”

Viktor nods, “The personal office has a perfect view.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“So,” Viktor continues, “Are we only ever able to see you within the house of god?”

Jayce chuckles as your face heats up, “No. I'm more than willing to see you two outside of the church.”

With that, Viktor smirks and hands you a small slip of paper with an address written on it, “This is where we live. Hopefully, the next time we see one another, it's within the privacy of our home. That way we can see how loud you can truly get.”

You smile at the two handsome men. They've truly ruined you for anyone else.

Hallelujah praise the lord! This was filthy and I hope y’all enjoy it! Priest Viktor and Jayce would be so hot, I’d start going to church if they were there LMAO

I started writing this when I was certain JayVik x Reader was going to win on my poll (I know cause I voted for other to see which the percentages, I was too impatient to wait 23hrs 💀)

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sgt-seabass · 2 years ago

Note

the idea of steve kemp being mean and dark and manhandling you to your knees and slapping you around and making you worship him and lick his shoes is so hot 🥺 especially if he's threatening and degrading the reader through it

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

✧˚ · . 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯.

pairing — steve kemp x little!reader w/c — almost 900 words this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — little!reader, dd/lg elements, implied kidnapping, referenced cannibalism, referenced murder, threats, degradation, pet names (sunflower), face slapping, spanking, shoe licking, shoe grinding a/n — this ask made me go fucking FERAL i swear to god. i could kiss your brain, thank you for blessing me with this thot. i was going to write other things but couldn't get this idea out of my head. i love you. not beta read.

Steve didn’t know you were different at first.

He had wined and dined you the same as his other victims, and with a bit of smooth talking, you’d been an easy catch.

You were sweet. Wearing pretty little dresses with a gorgeous smile that beams to all those around. Like a sunflower, which was the nickname he’d chosen for you.

It wasn’t until the reality of the situation had set in that he started to see the hints of uniqueness. Typically, his captives would scream, fight, and try to claw his eyes out. But you had receded into yourself. A meek thing that cried in the corner. Like a kicked puppy.

Steve wasn’t one for affection, not in the traditional sense. But he liked you. And so, he kept you around.

Many girls came and went while you were kept in your little cell. Steve often talked with you, sitting on the ground while he ranted about his day. And if you listened well, you’d get a new stuffed toy. He’d learnt you liked them after you bundled your pillows to cuddle them like a bear.

It was amusing. His little sunflower was an exciting thing to have around.

Except when you weren’t good. That he hated more than anything.

You wouldn’t eat your dinner, picking at the meatloaf with disdain. Steve had made it especially for you, with beef, not his usual cuisine. You weren’t ready for his diet yet.

He’d grabbed you by the hair, dragging you across the room and into a new, empty cell. You’d wailed for your stuffies, for comfort, but bad girls don’t get privileges.

“What am I meant to do with an ungrateful little girl, huh? Do you want to end up like the rest of them?” Steve watched the fear flash across your face, your little sobs becoming so hard snot and spit dribbled down your face with your tears.

“What a pathetic little baby. Too stupid to even kill,” Steve cooed, swatting your hands away when you tried to cover your face. He wanted to see all the anguish. “Who am I, hm? Who am I, sunflower?”

“My— My— My G-God…” You snivelled out, and Steve scoffed, slapping you hard across the face.

You turned to him again, and he slapped you again. “Speak properly. This isn’t the time to be a bumbling mess. Face your consequences,” Steve was harsh, as he often was when things didn’t go his way.

“You’re my God,” you managed to get out amongst your sniffs and hiccupped sobs.

“That’s better. Now, you want to get back in my good books, right?”

You nodded desperately, and Steve smiled. His sunflower was always so eager to please.

Steve grabbed your hips, pulling you to sit on his manicured oxford shoes. He started you off, rubbing your cunt over the laces and leather below you until you got the idea. “That’s it. Rub that dirty pussy all over my shoes. I bet you like it, don’t you?”

The way you looked up at Steve had him almost cumming on the spot. You looked like an absolute mess, your tear-stricken cheeks and puffy eyes making him harder. “Fuck.” He muttered, looking down to the sheen left on his shoe from your sopping cunt, your wetness soaking through your underwear. “You’re my disgusting little baby, aren’t you, sunflower?”

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

Steve always loved hearing his two favourite words. He didn’t really have a kink for being called daddy, but how it made you all shy and submissive was well worth it.

You kept rubbing yourself with little moans and sobs until your hips started shuddering, and Steve knew you were getting close. He drank in the sight of you, your nipples peaked through the fabric of your dress and muscles tensing throughout your body. It was a picture-perfect sight. “You’re doing a good job, sunflower. But you were a bad girl. And bad girls don’t get to cum.”

Steve pulled you off him, your sounds turning to whimpers as you were denied your orgasm. His shoe shone with your juices, and Steve stuck it in your face, rubbing it with the leather. “Look at this. You’ve made it all dirty. I’d normally kill someone for dirtying my things like this.”

There wasn’t much Steve wouldn’t kill someone for, but he loved to taunt you nonetheless. “But I suppose I can forgive you if you clean it up.”

Steve laughed as you looked around the room, trying to find a rag or something to clean it with. “Stupid baby.” He grabbed your hair, ignoring your yelps and cries as he shoved your face against his shoe. “With your tongue.”

He held you there, not allowing an ounce of movement. With your ass in the air, he smacked your cheeks, watching as you tried to lick away your wetness as the spanks kept coming. He wanted you sore. Perhaps that would teach you a lesson.

You licked at his shoes, having to go over the same spot when your tears fell and made a mess all over again. It was an endless cycle that Steve was all too happy to witness.

Steve hummed, watching you contently. Maybe he’d get you another toy from the hospital gift shop after his shift tomorrow. He loved seeing his sunflower smile after being a crying mess, like a blooming flower after the rain.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #cherished anons #steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x you #dark fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp imagine

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weskin-time · 3 years ago

Text

Rest

Captain John Price x GN!Reader

youre a prideful idiot who wont take a break even when their body is screaming at them to heal and rest, and Price humbles you.

not beta read

i know more about the air force than i know about the army. i used to be in ROTC so i have very faint ideas on how the military works im also still loopy on pain meds so i apologize for any mistakes this also just fuckin sucks ass im sorry.

I took the saying "fuck the military" too literally and now im writing fics for old british army men

You were the definition of exhausted. For three weeks you were deployed out to a frigid Russian forest trying to find the location of some worthless man. You were sent out with a team of men to lead this mission, you knew you could handle it, you knew Gaz and the other men who came with you could handle it, but no one can handle Russian winters better than Russians.

It had been a useless hunt at first, slow and steady making your way through bases and killing dozens of men before you got intel on where the man you were looking for was hiding. After three weeks in Russia, you finally arrived back home with new intel and the man in question captured.

Your bones ached with chill that never left you, as if the snow had sunk itself into your flesh and kissed your bones, your fingers ached the most, even through heavy gloves you could never shake the numbing chill. Your body felt heavy as if your collar bones weighed 40 pounds, every breath you took was deep and sore, you legs were made of lead as you limped from the helicopter pads to the weapons bay. Your eyes strained in the darkness of the night and you tried your hardest to not close them as you walked the path. You didn't have time to sleep or rest you had to clear and turn in your guns before even thinking of rest, you had paperwork to fill out, reports needed to be made to be processed, a meeting with Captain Price and Laswell needed to be scheduled, you didnt even want to think about the paper work you needed to fill out for capturing a man, and you told Gaz you would take his weapons to the bay to clear them for him so he could get some much needed rest. He looked the worst out of the two of you and you couldn't just not help him and his puppy dog eyes, the two of you were very close even though you were a higher rank than him, which he hated the hell of and you teased him for it.

You did sustain a few injuries over the three weeks, sprained left ankle, you were stabbed in the same leg in the thigh, and a bunch more cuts and bruises but those were minor, Gaz helped you patch up your stab wound as you tried not to punch him out of reflex when he got out a needle and thread. Gaz took a few scrapes here and there but he mostly was just exhausted from the cold, probably more than you were, or maybe he flashed you his puppy dog eyes knowing your heart couldn't say no to him, either way he was probably already resting up in his warm bed trying to sleep away the cold ache.

You noticed you were slightly swaying when you entered the weapons bay, your limp wasn't the only thing causing it, you were exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Not surprising that the bay was empty, it was almost 1am and almost everyone from your squad was sound asleep in their beds, lucky them. You didnt know or care at the moment with what they do with the Russian captive, youll figure it out after the meeting with Price and Laswell.

Setting down Gaz's sniper you began to de-arm yourself taking the M17 from your thigh holster and the M4 off you back, unloading the clips and mags from them and began to take them apart for cleaning. Cleaning guns was always fun for you, taking them apart and putting them back together, the little clicks and sounds they made were satisfying. Your eyelids felt more like lead as you took apart the pistol, you swear you blinked for a second and when you opened them back up again your head was almost on the table, you knew you were tired but you didnt think you were that tired. You exhaled and scrunched your eyes closed before opening them wide as if that would help you. Youre so sore you can feel the muscles in your shoulders straining as you picked up Gaz's rifle and began to clear that. There was no time to sleep you needed to get so many things done before you even had the idea of resting, you wondered if Ghost ever got this way and you wondered what could keep him up for so long and maybe you could pull the answer out of him.

"Master Sargent Y/L/N!" Rang a deep British voice, husky like whiskey and cigar smoke, Captain Price has entered the building.

You stood up fast from where you were sitting, shooting up straight and turning around as you stood at attention and saluted your commanding officer, the little surprise woke you up enough to jolt you fast enough. You took him in as he walked to you, why the fuck was he still wearing that dumb bucket hat at 1am? He was without his gear, just wearing an army green tight cotton shirt that was tucked into his light sand camo cargo pants and held up with a belt. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes straight ahead of you at attention but it was very hard not to stare at the way the shirt hugged him way too well. It was still loose enough to leave some idea of what was underneath to your imagination but tight enough to shift and move over his muscles as he walked to you. Gaz and you one time joked that he looked like a cranberry farmer or a dad who got into fishing after retiring with that bucket hat on his head. He was in his late 30s but you swear he was one of the most attractive men you've ever seen in your life, even his weird beard was hot on him.

"At ease kid." He stood next to you and watched you slightly relax out of attention and sit back down to work on the guns again.

"What're you doing up this late Captain?" you asked him as you began to finish up Gaz's gun to avoid his blue stare.

"Just got done talking to Gaz about your mission, wanted to check in to see how things went with you." you were grateful you could have a small debriefing now to get one thing out of the way before you had to work on the rest of everything else. He placed a large hand on your shoulder, putting some weight on your sore body and asked about the mission to which you tried your hardest not to slur your words in a sleepy haze as you gave a simple report of everything, keeping in the story of your injuries and how you got them.

His hand was so big his palm alone covered your shoulder by itself and they were so warm too, it almost unfroze your aching bones just by his touch alone, and the warmth lightly spread to your face, which tickled your eyes making them even more sleepy. You wondered why he put it there in the first place and why he was slightly leaning on you.

"I wanted to have a small word with you." he announced after you finished up the short debrief. your interest was peaked quickly at his words and you sheepishly looked up at him in confusion. He took a small breath in before sighing, "I'm putting you on leave Sargent."

That peaked something that wasn't pleasant in you. Call yourself stubborn because you instantly began to drag your heels into the conversation, "Price I cant go on leave!"

"Just for a week at most y/n." His voice was that of a parent telling their child that they couldn't get Maccas on the way home.

"I have so much I have to do, I cant just sit on my ass while everyone else gets on with it." You argued although your brain was a tad fuzzy from how his hand was on you and the lack of sleep so your arguing wasn't very good in the slightest.

"You're exhausted, I can see it in your eyes kid-"

You cut him off, "Im not-"

"Let me finish solider."

You fell quiet.

"You do this every time you get back from a mission that you're commanding." He explained. "You get back on base and while everyone else takes a few days off to heal and rest you run around like a bloody chicken with its head cut off trying to get work done. I'm helping you out here y/n."

Your ego didn't like that. "Sir I'm fine, I'll get sleep tonight and I'll be chipper by morning, good as new." You tried to be polite with your arguing back.

"And what? Walk around on that healing leg of yours?" His eyes flicked to your left thigh before meeting your eyes again. "I saw you limping when you got off the helo. I think you're the first solider that's fought with me about getting a break."

"I'm alright Captain, really, I'll just finish up here then go to bed and I'll be back to myself in no time tomorrow and get all the reports and paper work ready and done." If you weren't so sluggish you would have felt more anger bubbling in your throat then the little spark that you felt now. Your words were slurring slightly and you knew deep down he was right but you didn't want to hurt your pride and admit it.

"Stand up." He ordered.

Confused you tried to push your body up but was completely halted by his hand on your shoulder. He wasn't even leaning his full weight onto you and your thighs shook at you trying to stand up against him, this should have been easy but it felt like your body was shutting down, you were being provided proof in what he was saying was true and even then you still tried to fight it, but nothing came of it. Were you really that weak? You weren't weak. This should be nothing compared to what you can do normally and yet you felt a sting on your ego. Your whole body protested trying to get up again.

You hung your head in a sign as you stopped trying. A very very tired part of your brain popped up with the thought of liking this weird imbalance of power being displayed, it liked the way he looked when you had to crane your sore neck up to see him, loved the way his eyes felt as they looked down upon you. You need to shut that part of your brain off before you eat your own shoes.

"It's an order Sargent." his voice was firm.

Some dumb part of you had one weak last attempt at an argument in you as you slurred, "I'm not even that tired." and as soon as it left your mouth you cringed at how fucking stupid you sounded.

"Oh come on that was pathetic." he was right it was a very pathetic last attempt.

Your eyes trailed up his toned arms and to his eyes, "Fine."

"Good cause you had no choice. I already had it approved." He blew out some air from his nose in a small laugh.

A break did sound nice, the thought of your shitty cot and thin blanket sounded like heaven to you, like the thought alone lifted your bones of some of the deep ache. You knew your past actions labeled you as stubborn, stubborn enough to warrant this entire situation. You probably were the only solider in the world who protested a vacation. You sighed as he removed his hand from your shoulder, the anger you once felt sloshing away down the drain as your head began a dull thrumming.

"Cant have one of my best men running around like that sweetheart." his voice was course and sent a shiver down your spine, you closed your eyes and mulled over the pet name in your head, you loved the way it made your heart flutter and your chest tighten. If only would call you soft names all the time, you dont think you could get tired of hearing him talk ever.

Your eyes opened wide when you felt a thumb and a finger pinch your chin and force you to look up, your eyes looked into his blue ones in tired confusion mixed with shock. Your face felt even warmer than before, it spread from your face down your neck and seeped into your aching bones and began to thaw them out, the warm that you so missed in those weeks settled into your flesh.

"Hey, how about i take you out tomorrow? There's this new pub Soap wants me to try and since you're not doing anything might as well come with me for a drink or two."

You have to be so very tired with how long it took to register in your mind that your captain was asking you out on a fucking date. You just sat there for a second in shock before your brain caught up to your ears and sent your heart into overdrive. You were defiantly not tired anymore.

"I-, wha- uh, yea sure! i mean." You were so flustered that you fumbled over your words which made you even more flustered. "Yea I would love that, it would be fun Price." you coughed out finally.

"Good. I'll come by your flat in the afternoon." He leaned down to you and he pulled you closer to him by your chin. "Now please go get some sleep, kid. Youll need it for tomorrow sweetheart." and placed a kiss to your forehead before turning away and leaving you as if he didnt just ask you on a date, call you pet names, and kiss your forehead. His beard was scratchy and the skin still tickled after he departed but it felt nice, comforting. You totally didnt stare at his ass as he walked away and left the weapons bay. How the fuck are you going to be able to sleep now??

#tezi post #call of duty modern warefare #modern warefare 2 #captain john price #captain price #john price headcanons #captain john price x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 headcanons #cod imagine #mw2 imagine

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jessybarnes · 2 years ago

Text

Just A Taste

Title: Just A Taste

Pairing: Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 1,643

Tags: Smut, angst, fluff, face riding, oral sex (female receiving), clit play, tongue fucking, kissing, crying, feelings of not being good enough, being held captive, out of character Steve, squirting, explicit language, and I think that’s it.

Written For: KINKMAS 2022

Day 1: Face Riding

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

A/N: Okay, so this was supposed to be posted on the 14th but because I received anon hate I decided to wait because I just wasn't feeling good about myself. I'm still not, but here this is anyway. I'm sorry it's bad. I know Steve is way out of character. Sorry, for my bad writing.

Steve opens the door to his cellar and heads down the stairs. His fingers wrap tightly around the key card as he exhales harshly through his nose. Today was stressful. Well, every day is, but today was even more so.

His shoes click methodically on the hard floor as he walks slowly toward your cell. The other ones are all empty except for two, but those women don't matter to him. Not in the way that you do.

You're...different.

From the day he saw you standing in line at the little deli he frequents, he was captivated by your beauty. He'd never seen someone so beautiful before in his life.

So beautiful, in fact, that he can't bring himself to use you the way he's used all of the other women he's captured. Every time he opens your cell door and sees those big, doe eyes of yours looking up at him, his stomach fills with butterflies.

Even on bad days like this, you bring a light to him that illuminates his darkness.

Steve can see you sitting cross-legged on the thin bed roll, a Cosmopolitan magazine open on your lap. You're chewing on your bottom lip, something he's noted as a habit of yours, and it makes arousal coil in his lower abdomen.

He raises the key card to unlock the door and slides it open. You look up and offer him a soft, nervous smile.

"H-Hi"

Steve smiles at the fear and innocence in your eyes. God, he loves the power he holds over you.

"Hey, sweetheart. Reading anything good?"

You look down at the magazine and move your gaze back to his. It really should disgust you that your attraction to your kidnapper outweighs your motivation to escape. There's no way he feels the same. At first, you'd thought that's why he hadn't harmed you, but now you're starting to think there's something else wrong with you.

You've been here for a long time now, and he still hasn't done what he said he do the first night he'd brought you here. Maybe you're not good enough for him now and he's just keeping you here as a prisoner because he's afraid you'll rat him out and ruin his whole operation.

Wow, I'm so undesirable not even the man who took me captive wants anything to do with me... how pathetic...

"Just the horoscope page," you say quietly.

The sadness in your tone doesn't go unnoticed and Steve realizes it's a different kind of sad. Not the kind he's used to anyway. He pushes off the doorframe and walks closer to you. His knees pop as he crouches down, his fingers tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes.

"Somethings wrong, and it isn't just because I've got you imprisoned in this room."

It isn't a question, but you know he means to ask what's bothering you. The lump in your throat rises and you're certain if you try and speak the dam inside you will break.

Your lower lip trembles and Steve brushes his thumb over it to keep it still. He watches as tears gather in your eyes and feels his heart constrict with another foreign feeling.

He's been angry before, but never this kind. This kind is new to him. This is a protective type of anger that makes his blood boil.

Steve sits down and pulls you into his lap. You curl into him as soft, quiet sobs shake your body. A deep scowl etches onto his features and even though he's the only one who's had any type of contact with you for the past two months, it still doesn't change the fact that he'd kill anyone who brought you harm.

...Oh...

That's when it dawns on him.

He's fallen for you.

Hard.

Your small voice breaks through your sobs and Steve wipes your tears away with his thumb as he looks down at you.

"Th-There's some...something wrong with m-me, isn't there?"

He shakes his head, "why would there be anything wrong with you? You're the least fucked up person in this house, Y/N."

You sniffle and adjust yourself so you're looking at him properly. He really is attractive, and you're so close to him. Close enough that you could just lean in and-

"Sweetheart?"

Your eyes fall to your lap along with your hands, the chain around your wrist jingling reminding you of where you're at. Maybe you do belong here if you're having sexual thoughts about your fucking abductor.

"Because," you sigh, "I've been in here for a long time and...and you've...well, you haven't...haven't um..."

You can't bring yourself to even say it, but Steve seems to get what you're trying to tell him. He tilts your chin back up again and for the first time in a long time, he actually looks sincere.

"You think because I haven't done to you what I've done to the others that you're not good enough?"

You nod and he swallows thickly. He's normally desensitized to seeing women cry, but with you, it's like someone's torn open a wound in the middle of his chest. He can't stand it and he can't help himself as he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

You gasp and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips into your warm, wet mouth. He kisses you fiercely, his arms holding you tightly against him, and for a moment you actually believe he wants this...wants you.

Steve pulls away and you search his eyes for a moment before speaking up.

"I...don't...I don't understand... how come-"

He shushes you with another kiss and taps your thigh so you'll get up. He stands with you and pulls a set of keys from his pocket, the same sincere expression still on his face.

"We'll talk more later, baby. Right now, I've gotta taste you, and I need you somewhere more comfortable for that."

The look of horror on your face catches him off guard, but he quickly recovers and shakes his head, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly.

"Oh, angel, I didn't mean it like that. I promise I'm not going to harm one hair on that pretty, little head of yours."

He pulls you flush against him, one of his large hands sliding underneath the elastic band of your sweatpants.

"What I meant was," two of his fingers apply delicious pressure on your clit making your breath hitch, "I wanna taste this sweet, little cunt, Y/N."

Heat pools in your belly at his words, and you let yourself feel the way the pads of his fingers roll over your sensitive bud. He removes them just as quickly and you let out a little whine in protest.

"Don't be impatient," he admonishes and unlocks the cuff on your wrist.

Steve leads you out of the cell and down the long hallway. You come to a set of stairs and he climbs them, unlocking the door at the top with his key card before taking you through the main part of his house. His bedroom is cozy and neat, but you don't get a chance to really look at it because, in the next second, he's practically tearing your clothes off.

"So sweet...so pretty and innocent, baby. I bet your pussy tastes like heaven."

Steve lays down on the bed and tilts his head back so he can look at you. His cock tents his pants and your mouth waters at the thought of him fucking your throat.

"Come here, princess. Come sit on my face and let me taste you."

You climb over him, your knees just above each of his shoulders. He groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he looks up at your glistening pussy.

"Fucking soaked, baby."

He pulls you down and drags his tongue from your soaked hole to your hard clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, fuck! Steve!"

He begins to devour you, switching from slipping his tongue inside your pussy and sucking on your sensitive nub. You start to rock your hips and whine when he holds you still.

Steve's insatiable.

He can't get enough of the way you taste, the way your dripping cunt clenches around his tongue every time he pushes it inside you. He's instantly addicted and he's determined to see how many times he can make you cum just from his mouth alone.

"Oh, my god! Fuck! Please!... Steve, I...it feels so fucking good, baby."

He lifts you up and looks up into your eyes, "ride my face, princess. Make yourself cum all over my fucking tongue."

You moan loudly and roll your hips, the sensation of his mouth on your pussy making you toss your head back in pleasure.

Your hands grip his hair and you move your cunt faster across his tongue, the spark of arousal now a full-blown inferno as you climb closer and closer to pure bliss.

Steve grips your ass and flicks his tongue faster, his name falling past your lips over and over in a desperate plea.

"Steve! Oh, God Steve! Please! Steve, you're so good...fuck, m'gonna cum you're so fucking good, baby!"

Your legs begin to shake and moments later the coil inside you snaps as you gush all over him. He growls possessively and takes everything you give him until you're too sensitive.

Steve rolls you over so you're on your back, his body caging you in.

"I'm gonna need you to do that again, baby."

Your eyes go wide, "Steve, I don't think that's possible. I'm too sensitive and-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off and kisses down your body, a smirk dancing across his lips, it's definitely possible, princess."

He kisses your clit and you suck in a sharp breath.

"And you're gonna give me as many as I want."

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freelancearsonist · 3 years ago

Text

Oh, Bollocks

Steven Grant x gn!Reader

Rated PG for reader is a teacher, au where steven got promoted to tour guide and is living his Best Life, lots of fluff and pining

1,417 words

A/N: huge thank you to @aellynera for betaing, and to @winchestershiresauce for commissioning this story!! i hope you love it sara thank you 🥺🫶

Normally, you dread field trips.

Your class is just at the right age where they can actually engage like adults but act like toddlers, and for most poor employees at places frequented on field trips, the age range of your class is the one they dread the most.

You say a silent prayer for your poor tour guide as the bus parks out front, and then it’s off to the races. You have little to no hope that you’ll be able to wrangle in the legged cloud of prepubescent angst that filters out of the bus and up the steps into the museum.

But this time, it’s different. The man at the door doesn’t look at all annoyed to see the throng of preteens storming at him. He has a sweet smile on his (admittedly handsome) face and he actually looks… excited? That can’t be right. He must be new. Or incredibly drugged up.

“Hi, I’m Steven,” he introduces himself to you with a smile and a sweet little wave. “You must be the teacher.”

You try to meet the enthusiasm of his smile as you tell him your name, but your smile really isn’t real until he repeats your name—rolls the syllables around on his tongue like he’s committing the feel of it to memory.

“Are you new here? We come every year, but I don’t think I’ve ever met you.”

“Yes and no,” he tells you with a gentle smile. “Used to work in the gift shop, I did. But I suppose my boss got tired of my begging and finally promoted me to tour guide.”

He laughs with you—it’s a sweet, soft sound, and you don’t quite know how to process the fact that you would do nearly anything to hear again.

You write it off as simple fondness for the first tour guide you’ve met that doesn’t groan with contempt when they see you coming.

But it turns into more than that as you see how sweet he is with your kids. He keeps a watchful eye over the entire group and makes sure no one gets left behind, keeps them engaged better than even you can. You’re starting to think he must be some kind of wizard for how effortlessly he conducts a tour that even you, after years of hearing all the same information over and over, are completely captivated by.

It’s hard not to get lost in his enthusiasm for his craft—there’s really no better word for it than that. He’s perfected the art of the tour in a way that you didn’t know possible. His optimism and the pep in his step are intoxicating; you’d give just about anything for simply a drop of his energy.

“So, how did a gift shop worker get so good at giving tours?” You ask with a soft smile at lunch break.

“Oh.” He says it as if it’s a completely outlandish question—as if he doesn’t know he’s the best damn tour guide you’ve ever had the pleasure of following. How could he not know? He’s incredible. You’ve never met anyone quite like him.

“Umm… I s’pose it’s just luck?” He tells you with a shy chuckle. “I mean, I’ve always been rather fascinated by Egypt. Had a bit of a sleeping condition once, so I’d spend a lot of nights studying and the like.”

“I’ve been bringing my classes here for years, to the point where I practically had the whole tour spiel memorized,” you explain, unconsciously leaning closer to him. There’s just something so magnetic about him—all you want to do is crawl into his lap and listen to more stories of Egypt. “I didn’t think there was anything more for me to learn about Egypt. Until you, at least.”

Impossibly, his face grows even redder. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty of guides here that know more than I.”

“Nope,” you counter with confidence. “I know all of them by name. And actually… not a single one of them can stand my class.”

He actually looks scandalized at that remark. “What? Why wouldn’t they like you? You’re an absolute delight, you are.”

He seems to realize what he’s said just a moment too late and he goes to retract it, but you speak before he can second guess himself.

“It’s a difficult age group,” you explain. “They’re right at the point where they can actually learn and engage, but they refuse to do so. I’ve never seen anyone hold their attention the way you do. I don’t think even I can keep those kids so focused.”

“You’re full of compliments, aren’t you?” He chuckles. “I’m sure you’re much better than you give yourself credit for. I find it hard not to pay attention to you.”

There he goes again, using that innocent honesty and saying things that nearly make your heart stop. It’s not fair, how much power this man has with his words.

This time, you’re not quite sure how to reply. But he’s bolder now—he doesn’t make any effort to take it back. The proverbial ball is in your court.

You’re fumbling it. Seconds pass by like hours and is it too late to reply? What the hell should you say?

“You have a good face,” is what comes out, and you want to punch yourself in the head for it. “For being a tour guide, I mean! Very… oh, what the hell am I saying?”

You’re an absolute mess. You’re such an idiot and it was so stupid of you to ever think you might be able to make a somewhat smooth move on this beautiful man.

But instead of grimacing or scoffing like you expect him to, he giggles. “Why thank you. You have a good face, too.”

Thank god your lunch break is over, because you don’t really know how to recover from Steven Grant, sexy tour guide, telling you that you have a nice face.

It’s another whole hour of you following him around like a lost puppy, clinging to his every word in a way that you haven’t listened to anyone since you were in college.

If there was any doubt left in your mind that you’re a total mess, there isn’t anymore. You don’t think you’ve ever simped for anyone so hard, especially not this fast, and you would be embarrassed about it if you were so taken aback.

This isn’t like you. You don’t fall in love with every cute bloke that flashes you a smile.

Steven’s different, though. In every way. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever known, and it’s impossible not to be drawn towards that aura of mystique.

And suddenly the tour is wrapping around to the gift shop, and you know what that means.

You have maybe ten minutes before Steven leaves your life—for only a year, if you’re lucky. Or forever if he leaves his job, or you leave yours, or any infinite number of possibilities. You have ten minutes to make it count.

“Steven!” You say it a little too loud considering the fact that he’s standing right next to you, and you give a nervous smile and a quick apology that he’s quick to sweetly wave off.

But then you don’t say anything, and he quirks a brow slightly. “Did you have something you wanted to say, love?”

Oh god, the way he calls you “love”. You could melt into the floor right now and die happily, having heard him call you that.

“S-sorry,” you try to recover. “I just wanted to ask… y’know, if you’re not busy…”

He senses your struggle, and a sudden surge of confidence washes over him.

“Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

You stand with your mouth opening and closing like a fish’s for a solid second before regaining control of your jaw long enough to tell him, “yes, please, I’d like that very much.”

He suddenly looks shy, as if he wasn’t even remotely expecting you to say yes. “I’ve got one more tour today, but perhaps I can pick you up after school is out?”

“Yeah,” you grin with an eager nod. “Yes, that sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

And then you regain awareness of your students, and the fact that your entire class is currently dead-silent and staring at you and Steven with wide eyes.

“Oh, bollocks,” he whispers with a giggle.

“Oh bollocks indeed.”

THE END

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#steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel #cece writes

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littleoanh · 3 years ago

Note

Hiii may i ask if u can write a kakucho fic like how you write about ran and i’m really obsessed with it! LOVE your writing style. Can you make one about a yandere y/n joining bonten because of how strong and reliable u are and kaku being inlove with u the moment u walked in to the room when mikey introduced u.. and ran having crush on u as well and tries to make u his but y/n only has eyes for kaku kun🥰🥰🥰 they end up together ofc✨✨

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for your kind words <3 At the moment, I am busy with my current writing projects BUTTTT this is such an interesting idea that my brain came up with a story :D. I haven’t written a yandere theme reader before, hopefully I represent [Y/n] well!

You Belong with Me

Characters: Bonten!Kakucho x Yan!Reader (G/N, no pronouns)

Warnings: Dark Content [MDNI, 18+ ONLY], cursing, violence (threats, kicking, stepping, blood, severed finger, fighting, breaking bones), love at first sight, brief mentions of Izana (possibly manga spoilers?), yandere reader, stalking, obsession and unrequited feelings (not Kakucho).

Special Thanks: My Editor Bestie (EB) for proofreading and being my beta reader.

Like, reblogging, and kind comments are appreciated.

By agreeing to keep reading, you are confirming you are 18+.

[Photos for banner is by Satushi Icon from Facebook]

“Does anybody know what this impromptu meeting is about?” Mochi asks once the executives are seated. Everyone received an early morning message from Mikey to be in the conference room at exactly 8 AM. Did someone fuck up a mission or was there another traitor in the organization? Whatever it is, this meeting might not be good.

No one seems to know what this is about, but the chattering stops when Mikey’s commanding presence appears in the conference room. “I have an announcement to make.” Everyone closely pays attention to Mikey’s words. “We have a new executive on the team that is joining today.” Their eyes widened, why did Mikey suddenly recruit a new executive? Were they not up to Mikey’s standards? No, that can’t be it because they would all be dead by now if that’s true. This new executive must’ve done something that caught Mikey’s interest. He is not an easily impressed person. Then there are firm knocks on the door, “Enter.”

The doors open, everyone glues their eyes to see who this new executive is. The clacking of your shoes echoes the room, however there is one executive who’s heart is racing… Kakucho. The moment he lays his eyes on you, it feels as though he is in a beautiful daydream. The way you stride into the room with such confidence and gracefulness, your appearance is refined but most of all, it is your eyes. When you meet his gaze, there’s fire in them that ignites the burning flames in his heart. He’s not one to believe in love at first sight, but you are the first to change his beliefs.

What Kakucho fails to notice is that his fellow executive, Ran shares the same interest. Though his feelings are not quite as strong as Kakucho, but he is captivated by you. Your perfect features and fortitude makes him want to ruin you. It’s been awhile since someone caught his attention, he’s got to have you and put another notch on his bedpost.

You stand next to Mikey with a levelheaded attitude and break into a charming smile. “This is [Y/n] [L/n].” Mikey continues your introduction, Kakucho thought it a heavenly name. “You guys can introduce yourselves later, we still have that contract we need Ryosuke to sign.” Mikey’s black orbs land on Kakucho, “Kakucho, take [Y/n] and Ran with you and make sure to get him to sign it. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Yes, Mikey.” Kakucho is discreetly excited he has first dibs to be working with you even though Ran is tagging along.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Your voice is like music to his ears. “We’ll make sure to get him to sign that contract this time.” Your self reliant attitude makes Kakucho feel like he can do anything.

“Can’t wait to see what you can do, [Y/n] chan.” Ran’s playful lazy smirk appears as he stands up with Kakucho and is ready to meet Ryosuke again. Last night's meeting didn’t go well and Ryosuke refused to cooperate.

“I’m sure my actions will speak louder than my words.” You match his playfulness, Ran is determined to make you his. You will be so much fun to play with. The three of you take the elevator down to the lobby and find the usual security guards to have bruises on their faces. Kakucho and Ran thought it was strange because they didn’t have those bruises when they came into the conference room earlier.

In the car ride, Kakucho feels a bit left out as you and Ran are having an easy going conversation. He wants to say something to get your attention too but he’s afraid his shyness would make him stutter or say something idiotic. He wants to show you he’s easy to talk to as well. But your radiating presence makes it difficult for him to speak. This is the only moment he would ever feel jealous of Ran.

“So [Y/n] chan,” Ran takes his downturned eyes off the road to take a side glance, “how did you impress Mikey into making you one of the executives?” Kakucho looks into the rearview mirror, he is too wondering what you did to impress him. There has to be a reason why Mikey chose you.

A sly smile spreads across your plump lips, “Now now, that’s between me and Mikey. If you really want to know, why don’t you ask him?” Ran scoffs, Mikey is full of secrets and will never utter a word about anything.

Ran pulls into the parking lot of the club Ryosuke owns, the three of you step out of his car and approach the entrance. The security guard sees the Bonten tattoo on Ran’s neck and immediately notify you that Ryosuke is not in the club. Before Kakucho or Ran can say anything, you knock the security guard down and step on his back, digging your heel into his lower back. He is screaming in pain as you shove the side of his face into the pavement. Kakucho’s heart beat is pounding, now he understands why Mikey chose you.

You are so strong and ruthless. Your swift movements are exhilarating and almost majestic. Your hair even reminds him of his old king, Izana Kurokawa. No wonder, he was instantly in love with you. You are similar to him.

“Tell me where the fuck he is.” Your tone changes, sending shivers down the security guard’s spine. Even the look in your eyes has altered. “For every minute you don’t talk, I will break every bone in your spine until you become a useless piece of shit.” The heel of your shoe is dangerously about to break a bone. “I suggest for you to start talking while I am feeling generous.” The security guard blabbers about Ryosuke's location. “Wow,” Your eyes widened in amazement, “you are the worst security guard ever. You should really consider finding another job.” Ran is barking in laughter, you step on his face before heading back to Ran’s car to go to Ryosuke’s real location.

“That was amazing, [Y/n] chan!” Ran is showering you with compliments while Kakucho quietly praises you for your quick thinking. He wasn’t sure if you even heard him but then he feels your eyes on him and he makes eye contact with you.

Your soft smile and adoring eyes set his heart ablaze, “Thanks, Kaku kun.” Kakucho’s cheeks are blushing, he wasn’t expecting you to give him a nickname, let alone what he had praised you for. He hopes you continue to call him that.

When you three find Ryosuke’s real location, Ryosuke sets out his men to ambush you three. What a pathetic fucker, who does he think he is to do a surprise attack on Bonten? You and Kakucho have the same stamina and brute strength. The way you fight is an art form, like you’re performing a classical ballet. Kakucho’s mind is occupied with thoughts of you that one of Ryosuke’s men almost hit him in a blind spot. You quickly threw yourself in front of him and took a hard blow that almost knocked the wind out of you.

“[Y/n]!” Kakucho’s chest is aching, how could you have protected him? He should be the one protecting you. He wants to repent for letting you take a hit for him.

“Don’t worry about me.” You still have your fighting spirit, you spit out the blood from your cut lip, “Get to Ryosuke! I got your back!” Kakucho will not let your determination go to waste, his anger fuels his brute strength and fights on while you defend him from behind. You, Kakucho and Ran caught up with Ryosuke and Kakucho seized him. Ran talks to him into signing the contract, initially he refuses until you step on his bloody hand possibly breaking it and he screams in agony. “Yes, scream louder.” Your crazed eyes dilated from adrenaline, “That’s okay if you don’t want to sign it, I will make you sing instead.” You are about to step on his other hand and he sputters to sign the contract. “Geez, should’ve done it sooner instead of hiding like a goddamn coward.” You still have the heel of your shoe on his bloody hand to ensure he would use his other free hand to sign it.

“Thank you!” Your beaming smile brightens the bloody scene and you release his hand from your heel, “A pleasure to be doing business with you, Ryosuke!” Ran and Kakucho are enamored by you. They started walking off but you haven’t moved from your spot.

“[Y/n]?” Kakucho is confused and worried about why you are not following along, “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“Go on, first.” Your velvety tone sounds so honeyed to Kakucho’s ears, “I just want to have one quick word with him.” Kakucho and Ran take a glance at each other wondering if they should leave you alone with him.

“Ran, go to the car first. I’ll stay here with [Y/n].” Kakucho doesn’t want to leave you, he has to make sure you are okay. You are still injured and he refuses to let anyone take advantage of you. Even if your same stamina and brute strength matches his. He doesn’t want the love of his life to be in harm’s way.

“Don’t be silly, Kaku kun!” You playfully dismiss his kindness. “I won’t be too long, I promise.” Your soft expression is hard for him to say no to you. Why do you have to look at him like that?

“If you are not back by 3 minutes, I’m coming back for you.” Kakucho makes this promise to you and you nod enthusiastically.

“I’ll be back by then.” Kakucho and Ran reluctantly leave you behind, once they are out of earshot. Your demeanor changes into a dangerous and violent aura. Ryosuke knew he was fucked. You smash your shoe into his face and he groans in pain. You continue to kick him, releasing your anger, “You fuckin piece of shit! This is for running away like a stupid fuckin coward.” Each kick is harder than the last, “This is for one of your men almost hurting my Kaku. And this is for having my lip cut on my first day of work.” You did a finishing blow on his ribcage, breaking his lower ribs. “If you pull another stupid fuckin stunt like that,” You yank his hair and pull closer to your face, “I will kill you.” Your crazed eyes scared the shit out of him. You release his greasy hair and wipe your hand on his shirt and start walking back to the car before Kakucho comes looking for you.

“Wai-wait.” Ryosuke weakly calls out to you, you stop but not turn around. “Wha-what about my finger?” Your shoulders start shaking and let out a joyous laughter echoing the warehouse. Then you finally turn your face with an enchanting smile that easily masks your psychopathic personality.

“You really think you deserve your finger back?” He lets out a gasp, how could someone who looks normal as you be a maniac. “Just kidding!” You laugh that is almost childlike again, “Your finger is left with that security guard of yours at your club.” Then you tilt your head to the side with a cute thinking face, “Though I didn’t ice it. So you may not be able to get it reattached. You might want to hurry!” You continue to amble your way out of the warehouse.

When you step outside, you find Kakucho pacing around Ran’s car with a worried expression. How cute, your heart swells with so much love. He stops when he sees you approaching and he meets you halfway. “Are you okay?” He couldn’t help but to cup your cheek and look at the cut on your lip.

“Of course, Kaku kun.” You wish he didn’t have to see you like this. “I am really fine.” You collectively reassure his worries. “Now, let’s go back and show Mikey the signed contract!” You smile, though you can feel the burning cut by smiling.

The ride back to Bonten's Headquarter, Ran is openly flirting with you in front of Kakucho. Though he doesn’t like how forward Ran is, he feels like you and him have a connection. Maybe you feel the same way as he does (maybe not as strongly as him). When Ran parks his car in the private underground parking lot, he tries to be all touchy with you.

“Come on, [Y/n] channnnn!” Ran cutely calls your name and opens up his arms, “Let me carry your injured body into the building.”

“My legs can still walk, there’s no need to carry me.” You brush off Ran’s offer, but he persistently wants to touch you in some way. His hand touches your lower back, dangerously close to your ass.

“Don’t be shy,” Ran leans forward and talking huskily into your ear, “I promise I will take care of you.” Kakucho is fuming, how dare Ran touch you so vulgarly. You should be treated with respect and be cherished. He is about to step in to pry Ran’s grabby hand off of you but you beat him to it.

“Now now, Ran.” Your voice is sickeningly sweet but that thin smile of yours is not to be messed with, ”It’s impolite to touch someone without their consent.” You strongly take his hand off of you. “One might accidentally break these pretty hands of yours one day.” Ran’s eyes widens in surprise but quickly recompose himself by laughing.

After showing Mikey the signed contract, he nods in approval knowing that this would have been resolved today. Sanzu, Rin, Koko, and Mochi interrogate Ran and Kakucho about how you were on the mission today. Ran is singing you praises while Kakucho watches you disappear into your new assigned office. Fortunately it is next to Kakucho’s. He walks out of the conversation to check in on you.

“Ahh!” He hears you hiss, Kakucho looks inside to see you are dabbing a cotton ball on your cut lip while looking in the mirror. He saunters into your office without you noticing and takes the cotton ball from you. “Kaku kun?” You are a bit flustered to see him.

“Let me help.” Kakucho gently cups your soft cheek then leans forward to clean your cut lip. Your fiery eyes make him feel nervous, but he mustn’t let you know that. He focuses on how pretty your lips are even if there is a cut. Kakucho wonders what kind of kisser you would be. Would you be shy or passionate? Next he notices your scent is pleasant and calming, if he could he would nuzzle his face into your neck. His eyes trail back to your eyes again, they are so daring. He should say something, “I’m sorry you got hurt because of my carelessness.” Your eyes widened in surprise.

“There’s no need for you to apologize.” You shake your hands to reassure him that you were not angry with him. “As long as you are okay, that’s all that matters to me.” How are you so selfless?

“I should look out for you, not the other way round.” His soft smile appears and cheeks are lightly tinted, “But thank you.” Your cheeks are also blushing, how is this man so adorable?

“You’re welcome.” You two share a quiet intimate moment while he cleans your lip. This feels right, being with you brings Kakucho some light in this darkness. He has been stuck in the shroud of blackness after Izana’s death. Kakucho feels he has no purpose and is just letting life pass by. Your glowing aura has broken through and he needs you to stay with him. He vows to protect you and refuses to let anything happen to you.

“Done.” Kakucho carefully tosses the bloody cotton ball into your trash can.

“Thank you.” You both stand there, admiring each other and Kakucho bravely breaks the silence, wanting to be the first to ask you out.

“Do you want to go out?” Your eyes dilated, he wasn’t sure if your reaction was a good thing and continued to ramble while averting his gaze, “I-I mean, to have lunch. You know, since it’s uh lunch time. I’m-I’m sure you are hungry from all that fighting. You don’t have to if you don’t-” You gently place your hand on Kakucho’s cheek for him to look at you again.

“I would love to go out with you, Kaku kun.” His chest feels light and easy, “Do you want to go to XX?” Kakucho is surprised that you suggested his favorite place.

“Sure, I’ll drive us.” Kakucho is discreetly elated to go out on a date with you and so quickly. Maybe soon, he will be able to confess his love for you. In your mind, you feel all your hard work has finally paid off…

What Kakucho didn’t know is that you had been stalking him for about 6 months. You’ve happened to cross paths in a passing glance. He didn’t notice you, but you obviously did. You thought he was the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. Without realizing, you secretly started to follow him. You’ve learned he was from a dangerous crime organization called Bonten and he is no. 3. You needed to be closer to him somehow, you felt compelled to get stronger. You’ve watched him train at a gym, finding out his favorite food, what his hobbies are, where he lived, and you learned about his respect for his old leader, Izana Kurokawa. During those 6 months, you changed your hair color to match Izana’s hair color and trained yourself to become stronger, ruthless, and to show no mercy when you fight.

Last night, you discreetly followed Kakucho and Kokonoi to Ryosuke’s club. You overheard their private conversation and found out Ryosuke refused to sign the contract. Kokonoi was frustrated and Kakucho tried to persuade him but Ryosuke didn’t give in. Your hand turned white as you clenched your fist. How dare Ryosuke refuse Kakucho’s offer. He should be grateful Kakucho would even talk to this fucker. Once you saw Kakucho out of sight, your legs began to move to the VIP section and approach Ryosuke.

Your alluring presence didn’t raise any red flags and you charmed him enough to be invited into his booth. When you had the chance, you tugged his hair and slammed his face into the glass table several times. His guards raised their guns at you and you grabbed a big glass shard threatening to cut Ryosuke’s throat if they pulled the trigger. Ryosuke asked what you wanted from him, you demanded him to agree to sign that contract from Bonten. He couldn’t understand why you wanted him to do that and so you used the glass shard to cut one of his fingers. He was screaming in agony, the guards were in shock and didn’t know what to do. You threaten to cut more of his fingers if he doesn’t reach out to Bonten. He swore that he would call Bonten to sign the contract.

You told Ryosuke if doesn’t sign, you would break more of his useless fat fingers. As a safety deposit, you kept his finger and if he less incompetent, maybe he'll be able to get it reattached. When you left the VIP section with his bloody chubby finger, you felt someone was following you. This was a strange feeling. You were never the one to be stalked. You led your stalker to an abandoned arcade and your stalker revealed himself to be Mikey.

“You’re … you’re Manjiro Sano.” You never thought to be face to face with the man himself. For as long as you stalked Kakucho, you were well aware how intimidating this man is. You knew how strong Mikey was and you know your own limits. You would never win a fight against him. You felt a bit nervous, was he angry that you interfered with Ryosuke? You couldn’t tell from his empty dark pupils.

“What is your goal?” Mikey questioned you and took a seat on one of the stools. “You have been following Kakucho’s tail for quite some time. Why would someone like you get involved with us?” He also couldn’t get a read on you either, you appeared to be ordinary.

“To be closer to Kakucho.” You brazenly answer him, you knew better to tell him the truth. “I will do anything for Kakucho and make him be one of your top men. Whatever is important to him, it is important to me too.” Mikey’s eyes narrowed.

“You would blindly follow his path? That’s stupid of you.”

“I could say the same for your right hand man, Sanzu. Yet you let him stay by your side.” Mikey’s eyes were no longer narrowed, “I am infatuated with Kakucho, I would do anything to be with him. If you want, I can cut my own finger to prove my loyalty to him and a promise that I won’t get in Bonten’s way.” Mikey remained quiet, you were not sure what was on his mind.

“It would be a waste.” Your eyes widened, you weren’t sure if cutting your own finger would be a waste or you are a waste of his time and he'll just kill you on the spot. “If you want to be by his side, you should be part of my executive team.” Your ears were ringing, you weren’t sure if you heard him right. “Your strength and ruthlessness reminds me of my brother.” From what you learned from Kakucho, Izana is Mikey’s half brother (well not by blood). “Based on how you handled Ryosuke, I could tell you are reliable too.” You couldn’t believe Mikey was actually praising you. If you impressed Mikey, would Kakucho be impressed too? “Come join my team.” He extended his thin arm out for you to take his offer.

“If I join… will you tell Kakucho about my feelings?” You didn’t want Mikey to tell Kakucho about your stalking and obsession with him.

“As long as your feelings for Kakucho do not bring him in any harm’s way, it’s none of my business.” You let out a sigh of relief, then you extended your arm out to shake his hand. Based on the handshake, you could feel Mikey’s power. It is no wonder he is one of the most notorious crime leaders in Japan. “Welcome to Bonten. Come meet me at the Headquarters at 7:45 and get yourself situated.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, you were too excited to finally be in the same presence as Kakucho. He will finally notice you and you need to make him yours. The following morning, you walked into Bonten’s Headquarters with light footsteps until the security guards stopped you. You looked like a normal citizen, what business could you possibly have with Bonten? You were not going to let them ruin your day. You’ve beaten their faces until Mikey showed up and you stopped. Mikey informed the security guards you were the new executive for Bonten.

Mikey led you to his office telling you Ryosuke did reach out and offered to sign the contract. He planned for you to go on your first mission with Kakucho but also having Ran Haitani to tag along. You don't care as long as you can be with Kakucho. Mikey informed you to wait outside of the conference room for about 5 minutes before knocking to come into the conference. Your heart is rapidly beating, you made sure your clothes are in order and that you would make a good first impression for Kakucho. When you heard Mikey tell you to enter, you walked into the conference room and your eyes met. You saw the look in his eyes that he was intrigued by you.

You belong with me, Kakucho.

[End]

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leahblackk · 3 years ago

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Do you dare?

(Thanks to @writer-in-theory for this amazingly beautiful moodboard. I can’t thank you enough for this)

Summary: Spencer visits his favourite library, but then he sees a notebook with the title “do you dare?” that catches his attention… would he dare?

Warnings: none?

Taglist: @ssavanessa22, @all-tings-diego, @doctorspenceryeet, @cance1medaddy, @hey-dw, @demigirl2007, @matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @nomajdetective, @reidselle

If you wanna join my taglist please press the notebook 📕

Disclaimer: this fic is based on the Netflix show “Dash & Lily” which is also a book, whoever it’s not as exactly.

thanks to @reidselle for being my beta reader and for leaving such kind comments!

Spencer Reid, the young genius doctor did not consider himself as someone adventurous and someone who got out of his comfort zone as much, he liked the feeling of the known, of the routine, something he already knew, something he has experienced before. The feeling of trying new things gave him bad feelings, anxiety even.

Already saying this, he got out of work, thankfully without cases and he went to his favourite library, one ha hasnt had the chance to go after being busy with paperwork and cases at work, apparently criminals did not have free days, therefore, neither did they.

He hugged himself closer, the snow falling down the sky. The winter came along with the lights of Christmas, something Spencer was excited about; He loved Christmas like a little kid would. Even though he didn't have a great childhood he had good memories from this holiday. He remembers how the city would light up and there was music and Christmas carols everywhere.

He sighs as he sees the light outside of the window of the library, books also being there to draw attention to the people who passed by.

When he entered the place, the sweet smell of old and new books made him feel like he was floating, and now there was no cold.

“Good evening, doctor Reid,” the girl who was in the information desk greeted Spencer. The truth is, almost everyone knew him there. He spent half of his time taking it as his second home.

Spencer does his typical smile, “Hello.”

The woman sweetly smiles, “Something interested in reading?”

Spencer shakes his head, “I'm not sure really. Probably gonna read the same books,” he said.

And that was because he had read half of the books that could be found in the library, and let's say the library wasn't as small as other people would think. From the outside it seems so, but once you enter a surprise would be shown.

Spencer smiles at the girl to then go to the shelves trying to find his next reading. He takes more than one book as he reads faster than other people, but there was a red notebook, not a book but a notebook between the other informative books. He frowns, they almost never place the books wrong. He takes the notebook and makes his way to the desk, but he sees the cover and its black messy words as if they were handwritten.

“Do you dare?”

The frown still prominent, and curiosity takes place, he opens the book, one, two, three pages blank until the actual words appear.

What is better than a clue game, don't you think? I've left some clues for you, if you want them, turn the page. If you don't… put the notebook back on the shelf.

Spencer, captivated by the narration, quickly turns the page.

So you decided to play, an interesting choice. Shall we begin?

Spencer, again, turns the page as fast as he can. He has never felt this curiosity within him, he wants to know more. As he turns the page he sees eight blank lines, apparently he has to write on them. His gaze goes down where the instructions are.

A coded message, you can decipher with the right books, only if you can find them. Simple rule; If you bother to use your phone while playing, put the notebook back on the shelf.

Spencer chuckles, he doesn't like the Internet anyways.

Your first clue requires good taste. Look for astronomy, especially something that might have cosmo on their title.

Spencer slightly opens his mouth to think about all the astronomy books he has read and knows that have cosmos in their title, but then he remembers; If the notebook is in this specific library, it means the book must be there as well.

He closes the notebook and makes his way to the astronomy section, one he loves going from time to time. He looks between the variety of books until he finds the one; Calculating the Cosmos; How mathematics unveils the Universe.

He opens the notebook again, where's the code?

96/8/1-2

Spencer knows what that means. He opens the book on page 96 he looks for the fourth paragraph and looks for the first and second word. When he finds them, he takes his pen out of his pocket and writes on the lines.

There are

He can't help but frown, there are?

Now, this one is in ancient Greece, gods wikipedia. Maybe something that has fable on its cover?

He knows, the age of fable.

He walks to where he knows that book is and grabs it.

177/4/5-6

There are too many

He's getting closer to completing the sentence and his excitement cant stop growing and growing.

Let's keep it with the Greeks shall we? What are your thoughts on the name Homer?

The odyssey, 727/3/2-3

There are too many lonely hours

I hope you know this one. Feminism, writing, music, romance, women. Rings a bell?

Little Women 23/7/38-39

There are too many lonely hours on Christmas

And without noticing, Spencer completed the sentence, yet the frown was still prominent on his forehead.

He turns the page hoping to get some explanation, and there is one. He sits down on the floor, his back against the shelf, and carefully reads.

Congratulations! You successfully completed the sentence.

A few rules before I explain that sentence. If you're not a boy older than twenty, please return the notebook back on the shelf, if you have used the internet even if I said not to, return the notebook back on the shelf, and if you're a creep… obviously return the notebook back on the shelf.

Now, you're probably wondering what I meant by that. We are a few weeks into December, also well known as Christmas month. The truth is, I can't stop thinking there are too many lonely hours in this month. You get your presents, you get all the things for the special date, you decorate, but sometimes there is this void that does not fill up, not even with the most beautiful house with the most beautiful decorations. Don't get me wrong, is not that i don't like Christmas, but people call it the happiest month, but you can see the sadness in people's eyes, the pain…There are too many lonely hours on Christmas even if you spend with your loved ones, there are too many lonely hours when you've done so much and you just don't know what else to do. Don't you ever get this feeling?

When is gonna happen is up to you. Let me know your feelings about Christmas, leave the notebook on the information desk and if I like your answer, you might hear from me.

Spencer sighs, and bites his lip. He grabs his pen once again and turns the page and starts writing.

He closes the notebook with shaky hands, hoping they like his answer. He reads one, two, three times to make sure his answer is well written and explain what he wants to say. He sighs and puts his pen back where it belongs, standing up and walking to the information desk.

“Hi,” he nervously said.

“Hi,” the girl turns around and sees the notebook in his hand. Her smile grows.

“Uh they told me to leave the notebook here?”

The girl nods, “Yes, yes. She's gonna be happy to read your answer,” she takes the notebook and puts it in a drawer. Spencer smiles, she. “Do you know her?” He can't help but want to know more about this mysterious girl.

“I'm not sure if i can tell you about her… but she's nice, and pretty i promise, “ Spencer chuckles and nods.

“Okay i uh… I'll be back then,” the girl nods and Spencer waves goodbye.

He leaves the library nervous and goes home just the same, thinking about the mysterious girl and hoping and wishing to the universe for her to answer back.

Y/n made her way back to the library excited when her cousin told her someone answered her notebook. She thought no one would even see it, but thanks to the universe everything worked in her favour. She held her cardigan closer to her body watching her converse move on pilot mode.

She entered the library and sighed, the beautiful and usual warmth gave her a hug, taking the cold of the streets out of her bones.

“Y/n you're not gonna believe it,” her cousin approached with the notebook in her hand, “Hes-” but before she could say more, Y/n shut her up.

“No! I don't wanna know…” she said, grabbing the book.

“Why?”

“I want to get to know him through his words, through the notebook, besides it would be cheating,” Y/n explained, her cousin nodded and she smiled going to her little spot to read what he had to say.

Hello, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid… maybe it is a little unfair you knowing who I am and me not knowing who you are, but I just want you to know I'm not a creep and you're safe with me. May I mention how this might be a little dangerous to do? But I don't wanna ruin the mood. I read your words, and I totally agree. My feelings about Christmas are various. Sometimes I feel joy. I have good memories about this holiday, my mom used to read all the classic books and sing Christmas Carols to me, but since I grew up, I am either working or I don't wanna spend Christmas with my friends. They all have a family they have to return to at the end of the day. A wife, kids… I have none of that, just my books and it is rather sad, but I guess that's the life I chose to live. Sometimes it can be stressful. I hope my answer is enough for you , and for me to hear about you.

If, i have the amazing opportunity for you to answer back, I would like for you to answer this question.

What makes you feel less lonely?

With love and curiosity, SR.

She smiled at his words, it felt like she could hear his voice while she read. She imagined the person he might be… a doctor. Why was a doctor reading and participating in her silly little game? She did not know, yet it excited her to know more about this mystery man.

She remembers how she felt lonely this Christmas, how she saw her coworkers leave and brag about the perfect Christmas with their respective families…It wasn't like she was not happy about them, of course she was! They deserve the best… but didn't she deserve the best as well?

She shakes her head and turns the page ready to answer his question, her heart squeezes with excitement because he's participating as well.

She rants and rants on the pages explaining her feelings to this unknown man but she feels like she knows him, maybe it is the hope of finding this true soulmate she has been searching for, or maybe because he gave her the chance to open up, and she gives him the chance as well.

“I'm gonna leave the notebook between the greek mythology books, tell him is there, okay?” Y/n says.

Her cousin just nods, and Y/n goes to her home, laying on bed thinking about him.

Spencer first thing in the morning goes to the library, the curiosity not letting him go to work first. His heart jumps up and down with excitement, and his hands sweat, he doesn't know why he's so nervous but he honestly doesn't pay as much attention.

He opens the door, the girl in the information desk there as always, and Spencer makes his way, before he asks the question, she answers with a smile, “Between the Greek mythology books.”

Spencer smiles, “Thank you.”

He makes his way there, playing with the end of his satchel, and he sees the notebook. Without thinking more, he grabs it and reads through.

Hello, Spencer. Thank you for being so thoughtful and kind to give me your name and tell me about you. A doctor, huh? I would never even imagine I'd be talking through a notebook with a doctor, is not that is bad but i just never imagine it, it makes things more interesting though.

Your question made me very happy, I'm glad you're participating just the same.

What makes me feel less lonely?

Would you do me a favour? Maybe consider this a dare even.

Libraries are one thing that makes me feel less lonely, so many characters and some of them you can relate to, even. My favourite books also come from Greek mythology. I might say I am a very passionate fan. There is this National Gallery of Art in the constitution ave, here in DC. They have beautiful Greek mythology paintings, you might go and once you are there answer my question.

If you could relate to one Greek god, who would it be?

Spencer happily smiles, looking down at his watch. He still has time.

He makes his way out of the library and takes the metro, while being there reading her words over and over, looking at her handwriting. He didn't even think of profiling her, he does that all the time, it's something that's there in his brain, but no, he wants to meet her through her words, to know what she has to say.

He still doesn't know her name, he wonders the way she would sound saying his and without noticing, he arrives.

He goes directly to the mythology art, he looks at every single detail in the canvas, the colors, the characters. He knows about mythology, but one of the paintings draws his attention. The name of the painting is “Apollo pursuing Daphne.”

He knows Apollo, of course he does. It has been Spencer's favourite Greek god, he never knew why, but now she made him see.

Apollo being the greek god of light, music, healing in other stuff. One of the Olympians. His myth with Daphne wasn't as romantic, rather tragic. He remembers reading about how Apollo was mocking the god of love, Eros, and the god watching him do so. He threw two arrows, one of gold and one of lead. One to Apollo, who fell so hard for Daphne, and one for Daphne, that made her hate Apollo.

Daphne in her desperate state, pleaded to her mother, Gaea, to help her because Apollo kept chasing her, and then she became a laurel tree, which then Apollo claimed at his sacred plant.

But this one wasn't the only bad experience in the love field the god had.

Spencer felt like Apollo. Feeling like he had a bad curse in the love field, one of his lovers dying just like Apollos.

He looked down at the blank page, and decided to write his feelings down.

“Lover boy left the notebook,” Y/n's cousin, Jolene, said.

Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed the book, making her way at the back of the library. His handwriting was messy, and for some reason that attracted her even more.

She opened the page where they were left. His explanation was long, making her excited.

Apollo. That's my answer.

I know you like Greek Mythology and I'd bet Apollo is your favourite Greek god, and he is mine. I relate to his myth, not much in general, after all how would you relate to a god, but in the lovers' part…. It's not that I dated a lot in my life, but the little ones I've experienced made me feel like I mocked Eros and he threw an arrow at me, and not the gold one.

I don't like talking about it, but you, mystery girl, bring that part of me I don't let people see, at least not easily. Funnily enough how my coworkers of years don't know half of the way i'm feeling, and you know it almost all and i'd be honoured to tell you it all, if you let me, of course.

Now is my turn to give you a dare, if you call them so.

Go to the immersive Van Gogh exhibit here in DC, and tell me which of his paintings you feel attracted to the most.

With love, SR.

She smiled softly, and sighed out of love. The little detail he has of putting his initials makes her heart squeeze, and love his notes even more.

She gets up walking to the exit with confident steps and a smile on her face, Jolene frowns, “Where are you going?”

“The Van Gogh exhibit,” she says, still walking.

“Bitch… it's midnight…”

“Oh true…” Y/n says turning back around, “Nevermind.”

Road with Cypress and Star;

I could easily have said another one a few years ago, but while being there, the painting just being there in front of me made me feel a connection, a strange attraction I cannot explain. You see, I love astronomy, you might have noticed because of the first clue on the notebook, but it just calls me in. I love Van Gogh in general, but his illustration of it in some of his paintings might be one of my favourite things. So I must thank you for the experience. I wouldn't have discovered that so easily without your help, and now is your turn.

I bet you've read Edgar Allan Poe, so, if you have, tell me the first work you've read of him, and your favourite at the moment, and if you haven't then go and read one!!

How demanding, mystery girl. So bossy.

And yes, luckily for both of us I've read his work. The first work I might have ever known was Annabel Lee, my mom used to recite it for me but read it on my own; The Masque of the Red Death. It was beautiful however my favourite work might be The Lake.

Hope my likes are enough for you.

With my love, SR.

The Lake? Burn out genius kid, are you? How does it feel to be so cool? And yes, your likes are enough for me, I also read The Masque of the Red Death for a school thing, and I ended up loving his work, and hey don't hurry up in asking me which one is my favourite!

Oh sorry, sorry! I might ask you if you tell me your name. I want to know the beautiful name behind such a mastermind.

With all my love, SR.

Oh please! You're the mastermind here… Wanna know my name? You gotta earn it… with a dare.

A dare? How exciting. I'm in.

Yours, SR.

Oh well, such an adventurous soul. We've been talking for quite a while, and these moments have been incredible. You've read about me and I've read about you but here is the real question… Do you know me, Doctor Reid?

Such a deep question. And my answer is; I absolutely do, mystery girl.

Yours, SR.

I hope you're right about that one. Because the way you're gonna earn my name is through knowing me. I've talked about books with you, but my favourite i've never mentioned, if you know me, like you say you do, then go ahead. My name is in a paper between the pages of my favourite book, good luck, doctor ;)

Spencer breathed in and out, chuckling at the same time. The air has been stolen, by no one else than the mystery girl. She had this beautiful energy, and Spencer couldn't get enough. Her dares, questions and way to write did nothing but excite him, to make him want more of her, and his feelings had been growing and growing with every letter, every period, every coma and every character in those pages.

Her favourite book? Spencer thinks. He thinks about all their conversations, which luckily he has tattooed on his brain, maybe because of his eidetic memory, or maybe because of what he feels, but he does and he doesn't care how or why, he just does.

Her favourite book, one she must appreciate beyond words, one she could, maybe, read every once in a while, something that spoke about her and who she was… For some, it might be difficult to decipher, but for him, oh for him, it was clearer than cristaline water.

He walks up, where he knew her favourite book was and made his way to the shelves, his fingertips touching the margins of every book while reading their title, until he came up with hers. He took it and held it in his hands, smiling at the cover, and opening the book, a paper fell off of this o and he leaned down to grab it, turn it around to read the words.

Apparently you do know me, and because of it, you have truthfully earned my name. Hope it was what you thought it might be.

Truthfully yours, Y/n.

He smiles while holding the thin paper, he doesn't know why he should be happier, the fact that he does know her, or the fact he knows her name. Y/n… Y/n… it sounds so right in his mouth, and mind.

He decides to be happy for both, and keeps the paper in his satchel, he sits down and writes to her once more.

Hello, Y/n, my mystery girl. It feels nice to know your name, finally. I might have to mention it matches your personality, or at least what you have given me the privilege to know.

Hopefully, when the time is right, we can put a face to the beautiful name.

Always yours, SR.

“Come on! It's gonna be fun…” Jolene begs, once again.

Y/n sighs, while reading Spencer's most recent words, she might have let one or two squeals while reading it, but he didn't have to know that. On the other side of the story it was Jolene, who tried to convince Y/n to go to her party, one Jolene's friends had invited her, wanting Y/n to come along.

“I don't wanna go to a party, those are boring,” Y/n said.

“It's not a party… it's a reunion… at a friend's house… where alcohol might make an appearance.”

Y/n rolls her eyes for the fifth time that evening, “Come on, i don't wanna be alone,” Jolene begged for the last time.

Y/n groans, “Fine, but if I'm bored I'll let you there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Jolene says as she makes her way out of the library, “My friend is an FBI agent, she might even know your secret man,” she moves her brows up and down.

Y/n doesn't answer as she caresses the cover of her notebook, thinking about him again while making their way to the car, she wishes Spencer was there with her, he doesn't like parties either.

Spencer, indeed, did not like parties, but being Emily's welcome home party, of course he had to go. Penelope offered to drive him to Derek's house, where the party would be, and how could he say no?

“How many people are gonna be there?” He asks as he looks out the window.

“I don't know, a few? You know how Emily is anyways, and Derek… he invited some friends too.”

Spencer nods, and sighs. He can't wait to go back to the library and find Y/n's response, he always looks forward to her responses. And thinking about her drove him to dreamland, not noticing Penelope parking the car.

“Ready, boy wonder?” she asks, getting out of the car

“No,” Spencer answers, more to himself.

He makes his way inside, the house almost full of people he could even verily see his friends. The huge “Welcome home, Emily,” sign on the wall, and Emily with a hat while drinking and laughing. He shakes his head and goes to her, with a smile.

“Spence!!” She says excited, obviously already drunk, and goes to him to hug him, Spencer tries to hug her back, but she's moving too much, “I'm so glad you're here.”

“Of course, how could I miss this?” He jokes.

Emily smiles and then gasps, “Oh there is jello on the table over there, you love jello, right?”

“Yeah I do,” he chuckles.

“Oh that's nice, then go and eat and im gonna try to find more drink,” she says before waving Spencer goodbye making her way to Derek. He shakes his head once again and goes to the table, another girl being there. She's grabbing jello too while she seems uncomfortable.

Spencer frowns, probably she doesn't like parties.

He looks at her, she's stunning, but not as stunning as he thinks Y/n might be, she looks concentrated in grabbing jello and Spencer looks at her, “Not a party person?”

She looks up at him, he's stunning. Beautiful hazel eyes and brown curls falling on his face, but surely not as beautiful as she thinks Spencer is, however, she smiles, and shakes her head, “Not really, my cousin brought me here…” She says looking around for her, “And apparently she disappeared,” Spencer chuckles looking at her, “What about you?” she curiously asks

He scrunches his nose, and shakes his head just like she did before, “Not really.. My friend Emily just came back from Paris, so,” she nods.

“Oh yeah, she seems really nice,” it's now Spencer's turn to nod.

“She is.”

They both sigh, and giggle. Spencer grabs a cup and puts the jello on his cup, “Im…” Spencer was gonna introduce himself, until Derek came up to him.

“Pretty boy…” He giggles, drunk as fuck as well.

“Morgan,” Spencer chuckles.

Spencer turns around to look at the girl, but she's gone. He frowns looking around but she's nowhere to be seen.

Morgan gasps, “I'm sorry… Did I interrupt you and that pretty girl?”

The young doctor shakes his head while looking down, “No, it's fine.”

“Oh, okay. Let's go with everyone else,” Morgan grabs Spencer by the arm and drags him to his friends.

He looks back looking for the girl, but she's not there. He feels weird inside, but decides to ignore it.

Y/n bored of the party, makes her way to the library. Luckily for her, being a family property, she could get in and out whenever she wants. She opens the door, turning the lights on while walking around and breathing the air, the smell of books and the warmth that hugs her. Memories all over that library… getting to know Spencer being one of them, and she smiles and closes her eyes. Wishing, once more, he could be there with her. She can't take the feeling of not being able to hug him, to talk to him face to face, to just even see his eyes and hold his hands. She takes the notebook, but then, a page falls off of this one. She frowns and goes to pick it up.

I don't know when you're gonna find this page, hopefully soon enough. I am currently at the Van Gogh exhibit. The painting you talked to me about a few weeks ago is just in front of me, and I just can't take it anymore. The way you think, the way you describe things… Your taste, your personality, who you are, it's making me go crazy, and I can swear at you that I've never felt this love for anyone, ever before. Some might call me crazy cause I don't even know your name! I don't know what you look like, I don't know anything about you besides what you've written. But I know your mind, and I know your soul and I know your heart and that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Like psyche loved Eros, blindly but strongly, I love you, my mystery girl. I love you and your thoughts and your mind. I love your letters and your words, I love your handwriting and taste. I love you, and I pray to the Greek god of love for you to love me back, cause I don't know what I would do with myself if you don't. Maybe he would understand because he loved like I love you… He threw a gold arrow at me, and hopefully, this time, he doesn't throw the lead one at you. I love you, and I hope you love me back.

Always and forever yours, Spencer Reid.

Y/n giggles, at the same time she wipes her tears. She feels happiness, she feels loved for the first time, and she wants to tell him she feels the same.

“Y/n?” A voice speaks from behind.

She jumps in her place as the book and the page falls onto the floor, and she turns around. It's the same man from the party… she frowns, who does he knows her name? But before she can get to ask, the realisation is there.

“Spencer..” she lets out.

Spencer smiles, knowing he was right, but taking his time to look at her. She's gorgeous, just like he imagined her… his mystery girl, his dreams right there in front of him.

“How did you…”

“I came to the library because I was feeling weird hoping it was open, and I saw you inside, reading the page…” he makes his way to her, leaning down to grab the items on the floor. Y/n looks down at him and follows his gaze as he stands up, slowly while looking at her, “So you read the page huh? I just wanna say that…” but before he gets to talk she kisses him. Spencer is speechless but he doesn't complain, dropping the items again on the floor, and Y/n chuckles against his lips. He smiles as his hands travel to her sides, stroking softly, and kissing her back.

They eventually pull away, their forehead pressing against each other while trying to recover their breath.

“Gold arrow,” she whispers, and Spencer smiles as he goes to her lips again, and again, and again.

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident.

Maybe destiny, maybe Eros. Believe what your heart wants the most.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer x you #spencer x fem!reader #spencer x y/n

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pleasantanathema · 5 years ago

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Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader]

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

#writer recs #bnha #haikyuu #attack on titan #fanfiction #bnha fanfic #hq fanfic #aot fanfiction #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader #aot x reader #amazing writers #pleasant speaks #my hero academia #haikyuu!!#my hero academia fanfic

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leah-bobeea · 4 years ago

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Magazine Girl; Steve Rogers

You ever start writing a fic about a journalist reader at two am who’s eventually gonna end up doing steeb, over his desk, biting down on his expensive leather belt?

❀ ❀ ❀

Warnings: CEO!Steve x Journalist!Reader, Angst, Steve’s a little mean, Bossy Steve, Shy/Anxious reader, Dom!steve, mentions spanking, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, coercion (a little teensy bit), Bad writing lol

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Terrible writing w/ a terribly rushed ending. Written on my phone, in my notes app, not beta read, and barely proofread.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yes, your hands were busy. Not busy typing out a rough draft of this stupid article on Steve Rogers, not busy calling his secretary to set up a meeting with the man, or the closest to him you could get, not busy doing their job at all. They were busy tapping your pen against the glass tabletop of your desk, successfully annoying Wanda, who sent you an aggravated look from across the room.

“Seriously, Y/n?” Wanda moved from where she was at her desk, clearly not making a breakthrough on her article for this month's issue either. You could only shake your head in reply. Throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling, you starting explaining. “Maria gave me this huge article, Wanda. Cover! And, trust me, I know she’s testing me and doesn’t think I’ll actually be able to do it so she can fire me, or belittle me, or- or something! I don’t know what to do, help me, bestie.” As you finished rambling you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, hoping for some of that amazing advice she gives.

Wanda laughed and pulled a chair over from an empty desk, sitting down and haphazardly throwing her feet on top of your cluttered tabletop. “She wouldn’t give you an article you couldn’t handle, she loves you, Y/n. If it’s truly as difficult as you’re making it out as that means that she knows you’re ready for it, and you’ll do amazing. Who’s it on anyway?”

She was doing such a good job at easing your nerves until she brought up the topic. You whined high in your throat and threw your head to the side before uttering, “Steven Rogers,” you turned your body back to Wanda, “What more do I need to say?” Her eyes widened just a little. “Sheesh...I’d start making phone calls, and praying, maybe?”

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hello, Miss. Carter, um- this is Y/n L/n with Shield Mag-“ “Please hold, dear.”

You pulled the phone away from your head and let it rest on your naked thigh, quickly pressing the speaker button. It was times like this when you were grateful that you let your grandma convince you to buy a house phone. Peggy Carter was the fifth person you’d contacted trying to get an interview with this man and she was the second lady that humored you enough to at least pretend like she’d get back to you.

She’s his main assistant so you might have better luck this time...

Thirty minutes later you had your head inches off the ground and your toes wiggling in the air. Humming the annoying hold music to yourself, you braided, unbraided, and re-braided a single strand of your hair. At thirty-nine minutes you were ready to give up until you heard a click on the other line.

You scrambled to turn off the speaker and press the phone back to your ear.

“Miss. Carter I was hoping to set up an interview with Mr. Rogers, over the phone, in person, or through email, if that’s possible?” You asked, hopeful that she wouldn’t shoot you down immediately like everyone else.

“Well, Magazine Girl, I only do in person. But I am a very busy man, so I need to know right away, what’s in it for me?” Your breath hitched and you almost fell and cracked your head open from how startled hearing his voice made you. Then, you nearly gave yourself a head rush from how fast you sat up.

“Well, um, Sir, you would get a headlining article, and uh, a cover on the June issue of Shield Magazine. That’s um, that’s if you want a cover- you don’t have to be on the cover if you don’t want to, just the interview would be mentioned on the cover, but-“ His chuckle was gritty and vivid, effective in stopping your babble. “I’ll see you Friday around noon. Goodbye Magazine Girl.” He hung up on you before you could even comprehend anything but that captivating laugh.

You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed your planner and pen. “Friday at noon...”

❀ ❀ ❀

The next day you were back in the office, sitting in Wanda’s stiff chair with twin caramel lattes sitting in front of you. That was the thing about you, you’d come to work early bearing gifts just to tell your closest friend your good news. You’re sweet like that.

When Wanda arrived it was fifteen minutes later and your latte was halfway gone. Hearing her black stilettos click on the glossy linoleum made you perk up immediately. As she approached, you stood, handing her the latte and wrapping your arms around her lithe body.

“I got an interview!” You squealed, rocking your bodies side to side. She stilled you and smiled. “Gosh, that’s great, Y/n. How’d you get it?”

“Well, I called, like everyone, and he picked up, Wanda! he picked up! I’m scheduled for Friday, and my Lord, Wanda, his laugh, it's like honey...” You trailed off, sighing at the thought of him. Your head was rested on her shoulder, a faint smile on your face. “You’ve got a crush on him!” Wanda exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and holding you an arm's length away to get a good look at your bashful face.

You gasped, “No I do not! That would be totally unprofessional!” The cackle that erupted from her made her sound like the wicked witch of the west. And honestly, under her stare, you felt like Dorothy stuck under that house.

When Wanda was finally done laughing maliciously she let you go, plopping down in her desk chair and sipping her latte. She pointed over and your desk and gave you a look. “Better start drafting those questions... we wouldn’t want you to blank on your crush.” “Wanda!”

❀ ❀ ❀

The days leading up to Friday were excruciatingly long, yet the hours until twelve flew past all too quickly.

It seemed as if your wardrobe was never ending, full of clothes that you deemed inappropriate for a meeting with the CEO of American Enterprises. You threw yourself back onto the bed, hair and makeup done but body still wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Oh Milky, what am I gonna wear?” The soft white kitty glared at you from the pillow she was perched on, meowing at you aggressively.

Ten thirty blinked on the clock and you sat up, glancing at all of the clothes that were scattered on the floor. “I guess this will do.” You picked up the same emerald blazer you had chosen originally and layered it over some basic Levi’s, and gray low cut blouse flowing over your form. A belt was necessary, so you grazed over your options. Brown wouldn’t go, even though it was your only fancy belt. The only black one you had was old, the leather cracked and worn, but it had to do. You slipped on some pretty black heels, lucky that you painted your toes a similar color to your blouse. After accessorizing you sprayed your signature perfume, the one that got you your first college-aged boyfriend, and the same one that you were wearing when you got your first real job.

By the time you were on the Metro, it was eleven o’ six, and you were worried. If you were late you’d lose this chance, and probably your job. The car stopped around eleven fifteen, giving you fifteen minutes to make your way to the building, check-in, and try to not seem so nervous.

Finding the building wasn’t difficult at all, after all, it is the second biggest building in New York City, competing with Stark Tower. The “A” at the top wasn’t illuminated, but it still stood out against the other buildings, cowering over them.

You found that the doors were heavy and if you denied Wanda of going to those burn boot camps you would have extreme difficulty prying them open. The inside was classy, just as you expected. The lamps had blue shades and the front desk lit up with a design that resembled the American Flag, but with less curved stripes and only one large star.

The receptionist was one of the women who shot you down immediately when you called and was a little surprised when you checked in. “Hello, I’m here for Mr. Rogers, twelve o’clock?” She searched for something on her computer, clearly trying to see if the appointment was legitimate. When you were proven correct, she handed you a temporary security badge and a sharpie to write your name on it. “Have a seat over there when you’re finished. I’ll call for you when Mr. Rogers is ready for you.” She smiled, it was fake, but it helped you feel more comfortable.

The red couch was stiff and small, clearly not meant for long periods of sitting. The badge was clipped onto your blouse, not your blazer, and the weight of it was pulling at the already low cut neckline. You thought about moving it, but your attention was quickly turned to the coffee table, where your magazine sat, opened to an article you wrote. Your hands were a little shaky as you went to close the magazine, but you were interrupted before you could grasp the bent pages.

“Miss. Y/n? Mr. Rogers is ready for your interview. Head up to floor thirty six, the door on the right.” Miss receptionist sounded bored, her eyes never left the monitor in front of her. “Thanks.”

Some of the others in the waiting area looked up to you after hearing where you were going, causing you to blush.

You felt lucky to get the elevator to yourself. Thirty-six floors is a long way to go, yet you got there in under three. In the elevator you adjusted your outfit and flattened your hair, hoping it wasn’t frizzy.

The door on the right was clearly not just a meeting room but an office, which you thought was odd. You also found it odd that no one was in the room, you expected to at least be met with his assistant or secretary, if not Steve himself.

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure it was completely empty before taking a seat on the leather chair on the opposite side of the big desk. You opened your notebook and got out your lucky rooster pen before going over your questions once again, hoping he didn’t think they were stupid.

You waited fifteen minutes for him, growing increasingly irked as the minutes built up. When he walked through the door you felt like your heart stopped.

Six-four build covered in a black suit and tie, white undershirt pristine. Blonde hair disheveled and a perfectly manicured beard. The door slammed shut and you heard the clinking sound of a glass being set down. Steve lifted his head and you snapped yours to the front, hoping he didn’t catch you checking him out.

The room was silent besides a rustling coming from behind you. You busied yourself with your notebook, highlighting the questions you wanted to ask most.

“You’re a very patient girl.” He observed. Steve made you wait on purpose. He knew from the first person you called that you wanted an interview, he was friends with Maria Hill after all. But he wanted some entertainment, and after looking into you, he knew you were the right girl. So far he’s made you wait an hour and fourteen minutes for just a smidge of his attention.

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled, accidentally stopping the highlighter too soon, pressing it down, and letting the pink ink bleed to the next page. He hummed in approval as he rounded the corner, drink in his hand, coat jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, first couple buttons loose. Finally, Steve sat in the big chair, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mahogany table.

“Give me that.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement, “What?” You asked, putting your pen down on your lap. Steve motioned for your notebook, and you opened your mouth, starting to stumble over your words. “Oh? um- Okay?” You handed it over to him and he relaxed back into his chair. A question bubbled in your throat, but you didn’t let it escape. Instead, you watched as his eyes scanned the papers, blue cursive, and pink highlighter, little stars and flowers drawn in the corners. “Mr. Rogers, are you ready to start the interview?” You tapped your watch, twelve twenty four.

He nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.” You cleared your throat and went to ask for your notebook, but he beat you to it. “Miss. L/n, is there an achievement or something that you’ve contributed to me that you are most proud of?” Why was he asking you your own questions? “Sir, I-“ He cut you off once again. “Answer the question, doll.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I- um, no. I haven’t contributed anything to you that I should be proud of, Sir.”

“Is there a particular moment or memory of building this relationship that stands out to you?” He continued with the questions, tilting his head to the side. Why was he twisting the questions onto you? When you didn’t come up with an answer he chuckled, sounding sickly sweet like molasses dripping straight from the sugarcane. “Patience finally wearing thin, honey?” You nodded eyes staring at his chest, you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to look him in the eye.

He snapped your notebook closed and slid it towards your side of the grand desk. “You couldn’t answer my questions correctly, Y/n.” You nodded, eyes now downcast, admiring the pattern on the blue carpet. You felt like you were going to cry. This big scary man was mean and just wouldn’t let you conduct your interview and you didn’t know why. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are, doll. But, if you can’t answer my questions how can I answer yours? You have nothing to offer me.” This was it, you were losing your chance. “Business wise, that is.” Your head shook, and your hands were clasped together, your left thumb rubbing your right nail back and forth. “I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I’m friends with Maria, Y/n. If you’re able to get this article done and get me on the cover you’re gonna get a promotion, you want that, right doll?” Your eyes went wide, “Yes, Sir.” Now, he stood, coming around to the front where you are and leaning against the desk. “She said to make it difficult, but I don’t care enough to do all that. So, doll, I’ll answer your questions. They’re quite good actually. And I’ll do a little photoshoot for the cover, but you’ll need to pay me back.” You gulped, hands suddenly sweaty, you felt like a little chihuahua, trembling under his gaze.

“How? Um, how do I pay you?” Gosh, even your voice was shaky. “Stand up. Lose the blazer.” Steve commanded, slowly unbuckling his belt. You could faintly tell from the buckle that it was Hermès. You stood and took off your blazer in a rush, folding it poorly and setting it on the arm of the chair. “Atta girl.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and then ran them down to your hands, giving them a little squeeze before he hooked his index fingers into your belt loops, pulling you closer. So close that the tips of your shoes were touching. He leaned down to kiss your neck and you stiffened, but when he grazed his teeth over the bruised spot he just created you melted into him, your hands grasping at the pristine white button up, letting out a little whimper.

Steve pushed you back a little and took in your form, then he pulled the little security badge off, tossing it to the side. Like a little kid, he pulled at the neckline of your shirt. “Off.” You would’ve giggled at him if he didn’t look so scary right now. His blue eyes were piercing into yours, left hand so tight on your hip you thought he might leave bruises.

By the time your shirt hit the floor, he was pushing at your shoulders, hinting at you to go to your knees. “Sir, I don’t know-“

You started, knees hitting the carpet underneath you. He shushed you and guided your head to look up at him. “It's okay, baby, you don’t have to know how. I’ll do all the work, doll. Now, undo your bra.” As expected you did as he asked immediately, fumbling with the clasp until it fell down your arms. It ended up next to your thigh as you watched him pull his belt through the loops.

Steve walked around you and kneeled down, belt in his hands. “Put your hands behind your back.” You nodded immediately, so submissive, completely at his mercy. “Yes, Sir.” Steve loved how polite you were. He made quick work of restraining you, tying your hands to rest against your jean clad ass. The metal felt harsh against your skin and the soft, expensive leather snaked up your arms.

When he was back in front of you he sighed and shook his head. “I should’ve had you unzip me first.” Hearing Steve say that finally brought you to the reality of what was about to happen. You watched with big eyes as he undid the button and then the zipper, the sound making you tremble. His dress pants puddled on the floor and you were in awe as he massaged his bulge through his boxers. Slowly, he pulled them down to the middle of his thighs. His cock bounced up to hit his abdomen and he hissed as he stroked it a few times. “Open as wide as you can, honey.”

As always, you did as asked. Your tongue stuck out a little, wetting your bottom lip. He grasped the back of your head and leaned you forward a little, then you felt his blunt tip on your tongue. You gagged and spluttered when Steve was about halfway seated, he pulled out and leaned down, kissing you sloppily. “Breathe through your nose, baby. Don’t forget.” Then he was back at slowly entering your throat. “Fuck...” he grunted, finally fully seated in your throat, your nose pressed against his nicely groomed pubic hair. He caressed your throat then, rubbing the bulge in your throat, resisting the urge to press down and have you choke on his cock even more. “So good, Y/n.”

Steve started rocking into your throat, slowly fucking it as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth. After minutes of abusing your throat, he finally pulled out, adoring the way tears ran down your cheeks and how you hiccupped, wanting to desperately rub at your raw throat to soothe it. Your hands pulled at the belt and your eyes begged Steve to undo it. “Up, doll.”

He hoisted you up from your armpits and bent you over the desk. Steve pressed kisses down your back and reached in front of you, unbuckling your belt and throwing it somewhere to the left of you, then he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, tugging them down with fervor.

Steve undid your restraints and left more kisses down your back until he reached your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole and glistening cunt. “I’d love to see this ass all bruised and red, but I’ll have to save that for another day.” His index and middle finger ran circles on your clit, your back arching to press into him more. “Sir, please!” You gasped, your hand flying out to the edge of the table and nearly knocking over the glass of whiskey he left on a coaster when Steve finally pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Gotta open you up first, doll, get you all sloppy and ready for my cock.” You cried out as he hooked his fingers, rubbing the magic spot inside of you. “Please, Steve, please.” He cooed at you, pulling his fingers out, and instead traced his name over your clit. “You gonna come, baby? Huh? You gonna drench my fingers, little girl?” You were moaning in wanton, hips humping his hand desperately. He brought his other hand down and started fingerfucking you again, giving you just enough to push you over the edge.

Your moans were breathy, your legs twitching, and you were panting by the time your orgasm faded. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet, doll, I still haven’t come inside you.” That made you whine high in your throat and you tried, to no avail, to slam your legs shut around his hand.

Steve’s right hand fisted his cock a few times, making sure he’s rock hard and dripping with pre-cum, while his left kept your lips spread, showing him your gorgeous pussy. The blunt head at your entrance shocked you, and you yelped at the intrusion. “Sir!”

He leaned his head down and spit where you were joined, trying to make the glide even easier. “Shut up, doll.” He snapped after you cried out. Once he was as deep as possible inside of you he reached for his belt, looping it over as if he was going to spank you, and stuffed it into your mouth. “Bite down,” Steve demanded, a hand snaked around to the front of your neck where he was applying light pressure.

When you tried to push back against him he held your hips down against the wood steadily and started snapping his hips at a fast speed. Each thrust pushed you down onto the table, letting your clit rub against the mahogany wood.

Your vision felt spacey like you could black out any moment as he choked you. Your orgasm washed over you and you had to use all the strength you had in you to keep biting down on the belt. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed his and let it go. Steve’s hips harshly snapped against your ass a few more times before he stilled inside of you, filling you with his spunk.

Before Steve cleaned you up and let you leave his office he had to finger his cum back inside of you, making sure none of it went to waste. Then, he made sure you had a way home, and a way to contact him, because, “Now you’re no longer Magazine Girl, but My Girl.”

@lo-bells

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve smut #steve rogers smut #dark!steve #dark!steve x reader #marvel #avengers fanfic #captain america #ceo!au #chris evans #leah-bobeea

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